#Let Our Hearts Collide | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lightseoul · 11 months

Text

endearment

synopsis. first, second, and third instances; it's official, there's something going on with bakugou and you're determined to find out.

cw. fem!reader, pro hero!katsuki, aged-up (26 yrs old), established relationship, a lot of cursing

word count. 1.9k words

The first time it happens, you don’t think too much about it.

“Bakugou,” you call out from where you’re snuggled on his corduroy sofa. “Can you pass me some tissue?”

From the bathroom, you could hear a faint ‘tch’.

The sound of house slippers colliding with the tiled floor grows louder and louder until he finally emerges with a roll in his hand, which he promptly tosses to you.

You catch it—barely—and grin when you feel the thickness of the 3-ply roll, no doubt a staple in Bakugou Katsuki’s pristine apartment unit.

Go figure.

He’s circling the coffee table and plopping down next to you when your phone rings.

Confused, you pick up your phone to see a picture of you and Kirishima from your last get-together—his caller ID. Curious, Bakugou peers over your shoulder, frowning upon seeing his other best friend’s name.

“Isn’t he on patrol right now with Midoriya?” you ask.

Bakugou shrugs. “Answer it.”

Humming an okay, you click the accept button.

“Hey, Y/N! Is Bakubro with you right now?

You eye Bakugou, who’s pretending to be disinterested and not at all eavesdropping. “Yeah. What’s up?”

Kirishima laughs, “Can you tell him to check our group chat? Limited edition All Might merch just dropped.”

At that, you chuckle. “Got this Ei. He’s actually just beside me right now. I’ll make sure to tell him. And tell Izuku I said hi.”

You can practically hear the smile on his face when he says: “Thanks, bro! You’re the best.”

With that, you press the end call button and turn slightly to regard Bakugou, who’s now staring at his hands on his knees, what looks like a scowl etched on his face.

You poke at his side, trying to be playful.

“Aren’t you curious about what he had to say?”

He shakes his head before standing up and heading—again—to the bathroom.

Huh.

The second time it happens, it leaves you and your friends bewildered.

“And so that’s how yesterday’s patrol ended up with me getting a special interview with TBS,” Mina says proudly.

You chuckle, amused. “That’s amazing, Mina.”

From where she’s seated beside you in the booth of your favorite bar, she grins. “Yeah, well I try!”

Kirishima, who’s sitting opposite the both of you, chimes in. “You have to tell Bakubro that story.”

“Where is he, anyway?” Mina asks.

You squint, looking through the glass windows of the bar. “I think he’s still searching for a parking space.”

At that, Mina cocks her head to the side in confusion. “But it’s been a while since you guys arrived?”

“Yeah…”

You pick up your phone, thumbing through the contacts until you arrive at the one marked with the red asterisk.

Emergency contact.

You’re in the middle of quickly typing out a where r u when Mina, the ever meddling Mina, peers over your shoulder unbeknownst to you.

“You named his contact…Bakugou?”

Attention divided between texting and talking with your friends, you retort lamely with: “Why? What’s wrong with it?”

“Nothing,” Kirishima pipes up. “It’s just that couples usually save each other’s contacts as sweet pet names.”

Mina nods in agreement. “For example, I have Ei saved as baby, with a red heart.”

Before you can even defend yourself, let alone playfully gag at the nickname Mina has given Kirishima, Bakugou appears at your table, sitting down at the booth next to Kirishima and in front of you, uncharacteristically quiet.

When you lock eyes, you raise your eyebrows ever so slightly— denoting a question: everything okay?—but he doesn’t sustain eye contact.

Instead, he stands up again quite abruptly.

“Restroom,” he explains curtly, stuffing his hands in his pockets before walking away, leaving the three of you speechless.

The third time it happens, it happens in his childhood home.

You didn’t expect to meet his parents this early on in the relationship; you haven’t even been together for a year. Yet Bakugou was determined to introduce you to them, said something about his sharp intuition telling him something or whatever.

Which is how you now find yourself in the living room of the place where he grew up, poring over photo albums like how dehydrated animals in hot climates pore over water.

With his mother, of all people.

“And this is him when his quirk first manifested,” Mitsuki explains, speeding through the pages of the album whilst grinning. You can’t help but grin back.

She points to a rather old photograph on the last page. “And this one is him playing baseball in 8th grade.”

Intrigued, you move closer to see the picture, smiling when you spot him, crimson eyes and ash blonde locks sticking out like a rose amidst the thorny bushes—impossible to miss.

Wanting to fill the air, you offer: “Bakugou was a very cute kid, Mitsuki-san.”

In a flash, she looks up at you, a puzzled look decorating her beautiful features, instead of the look of gratitude you were aiming for.

When you look back at her with confused eyes yourself, she asks, “You still call each other by your last name?”

“Oh—I—uh…”

You eye Bakugou who’s in the kitchen, chopping fresh vegetables for the salad, as per his mother’s instructions.

You convince yourself that he’s got to be out of earshot.

Stumbling over your words again, you scramble for purchase. “Well—”

To your relief, Mitsuki only laughs good-naturedly in response, cutting you off.

“Don’t worry, Y/N. I know my Katsuki can be a bit intimidating sometimes, but inside he’s a real softie who appreciates the little things.”

You could simply nod in response.

From the kitchen, Bakugou announces: “I’m going to the restroom. Start eating without me.”

A fourth time does not end up happening.

Instead, you find yourself riding the elevator to the rooftop of Bakugou’s apartment complex, where he’s already waiting for you.

‘I’ll just go ahead’ is what he said after both of you finished cleaning the dishes from dinner. ‘Make sure to catch up’.

Before you know it, the elevator doors slide open and you step out, suddenly becoming acutely aware of the heavy feeling now sitting in your stomach.

Will you finally figure out why Bakugou’s been acting a bit off lately?

You immediately spot him, back turned against you, and arms folded across his chest, resting on top of the railing.

Slowly, you walk towards him, ultimately situating yourself to his right.

A tense—albeit not uncomfortable—silence falls upon you.

Neither of you says anything until you pipe up with: “Is there bad news?”

At that, he finally turns his head to look at you. “Hah?”

You school your expression into a pensive one. “Are you breaking up with me?”

“What?” he exclaims, his entire body now facing you in a frantic hurry. “No!”

You chuckle. “Then what’s with the bad news face?”

“Bad news face?”

Nodding, you continue. “The face you make when you hear or are about to deliver bad news. It’s the more solemn iteration of your scowl.”

“What—” he scoffs, although he sounds pleased, “—You’ve fucken memorized my expressions?”

You shrug sheepishly.

When he doesn’t say anything in return, you prod further. “How bad is it?”

He huffs, breaking eye contact. “No bad news. Just—it’s…shit, never mind.”

“It’s just me,” you remind him. “It’s okay.”

With your reassurance, you can see his body relaxing a little bit, though he still refuses to say anything.

A few more seconds of tense silence pass before Bakugou finally looks you straight in the eye.

“Why the fuck do you call me Bakugou?

You stare at him. “...because it’s your name?”

Whatever he wanted to hear from you, it sure wasn’t that.

He scoffs. “Yeah? Well, why do you call shitty hair Ei or shitty deku Izuku? Have I failed some fucking test to qualify for first name privileges?”

“What are you talking about?”

This is what made him act weirdly the past week?

“Don’t make me say it again, woman,” he spits, although there’s not much venom coating his words.

“God,” he combs through his hair in frustration, “this is fucking humiliating.”

“I call you Bakugou because that’s what I called you back when we were just friends,” you try to reason. “Also, I…I didn’t want to start calling you Katsuki out of nowhere.

“I didn’t know you wanted me to,” you finish, voice small.

“Who said I wanted you to call me that?”

You shoot him a knowing look.

You stare at each other for a few more seconds before he groans in defeat, turning to face the city skyline instead of you. You follow suit, opting to look up at the stars that seem to be twinkling extra tonight.

Moments pass with neither of you saying anything.

You gently bump his shoulder with yours.

“For what it’s worth,” you start, “I don’t think there’s anything to be embarrassed about.”

He only grunts in response. You press on.

“The fact that you just told me all this…I don’t know. It makes me happy. It’s sort of like saying you care enough about our relationship to communicate even the most ‘humiliating’—your words not mine—of concerns.

“Of course I fucking do, dumbass,” he retorts. “Wouldn’t have confessed to you if I was just gonna chicken out at some point like a loser.”

You smile at him and his words, and you hope your adoration translates to your face, because the thing with Bakugou is that sometimes you have to deliver the message without having to utter the words—all to preserve the moment before it’s adulterated by shame.

“Right,” you look at him, “why don’t you call me by my first name?”

“Figured I haven’t earned it yet,” he says bluntly.

Amused, you push forward. “And how were you planning to earn it?”

He shoots you a glare. “By being the best fucking boyfriend, that’s how.”

At that, you cannot help the delighted laughter that erupts from you.

He side-eyes you, annoyed, though a smile manages to crack through the facade.

“Stop laughing at me.”

And when you don’t: “Hey.”

“Sorry, sorry,” you exclaim, trying to catch your breath. “I’m just happy.”

He studies you for a beat, eyes fluttering across your face as if he’s searching for something. You feel yourself grow warmer under his piercing gaze.

There’s a pregnant pause before he finally says: “Call me Katsuki.”

You grin, “Okay, Katsuki.”

At your mention of his name, the scowl plastered on his face eases a little into a neutral—borderline happy—expression.

“And I’ll call you by your first name…” he declares, “if you’re fine with it or if not, just forget I said that.”

You take his hand and squeeze it before he can ramble some more.

“Sounds good to me, Katsuki.”

bonus:

“I swear,” you argue while putting on your shoes, “I can ride the subway, Katsuki.”

“At this hour?” he snorts.

“Best fucking boyfriend, remember?” he sneers as he obtains his car keys by the doorway. “Just let me do this for you.”

You relent, knowing better than to fight with Katsuki on the matter of your safety, when suddenly a brilliant idea dawns on you.

Straightening up, you say: “I don’t think I saw you drinking water after dinner, Katsuki.”

“What?”

“Go hydrate yourself,” you command.

At that, he grumbles but submits to you anyway, walking back to his tidy kitchen.

Once you see that he’s in the middle of chugging down a bottle, you call: “Katsuki?”

He grunts—the best he can do while downing a bottle of water—in response.

“Can I call you babe?”

Bakugou chokes on his spit.

tagging. @katsukis1wife @rinalou @loverboyrin @brunnetteiwik @beabe19

#as i said #we love an emotionally constpiated bakugou <3 #bakugou x reader #bakugou x y/n #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou imagines #bnha imagines #mha imagines #bnha scenarios #mha scenarios #mha x reader #bnha x reader #bakugou x you #bakugou imagine #bakugou fluff #bakugou angst

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pucksandpower · 6 months

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A Gentleman’s Guide to Courtship

Max Verstappen x reporter!Reader

Summary: Max decides to get relationship advice from a book written in 1815 and it goes about as well as you would expect. But sometimes the wrong formula still gets the right answer

“In our modern age, when so many standards of propriety have shifted, a gentleman may find himself at a loss when attempting to court a young lady. The rules of etiquette that governed such relationships in decades past offered a framework to guide conduct and ensure all was done properly.

This humble volume intends to provide today’s gentleman that same guidance, so that he may pay suit to the object of his affection in a manner befitting them both. Within these pages, the reader will find what constitutes proper introductions, suitable topics of conversation, appropriate gifts or tokens of regard, and protocols for exchanging correspondence.

While society evolves, there remain certain courtesies that bespeak good breeding. Master these, and you shall go far in winning the hand of any respectable young lady.”

- Excerpt from “A Gentleman’s Guide to Courtship” by Reginald Worthington, 1815

A gentleman must display impeccable manners, never using foul language and maintaining a calm and collected demeanor at all times.

“So Max, tell us how you’re feeling ahead of the British Grand Prix this weekend,” you ask, microphone in hand.

Max shifts in his seat, avoiding your gaze. “Uh, yeah, feeling good. The car has been quick so far this weekend in practice.”

You nod enthusiastically. As the newly appointed F1 reporter for Sky Sports, you’re eager to prove yourself in the paddock. And getting an exclusive interview with the reigning double world champion is a great start.

“You have not won at Silverstone before. Do you think you can do it for the first time on Sunday?”

“Absolutely. The team have been working hard and I think we have a good chance,” Max replies.

You glance down at your notes. “Now Max, let’s go back to last weekend in Austria. The incident with Lando on the first lap — can you walk us through what happened from your perspective?”

Max feels his face getting hot. The controversial collision is still a sore point after the race stewards penalized him. He takes a breath, pushing down his true feelings.

“Well, it was racing incident,” he says slowly. “Lando had a good start and was alongside going into turn one. It was tight between us and unfortunately we made contact.”

You raise an eyebrow. “But do you feel that you were more at fault? It seemed to be quite an aggressive move.”

Max clenches his fist under the table discreetly. Calm and collected, he reminds himself.

“Like I said, it was just racing. These things happen sometimes between us drivers.”

“So you don’t think it was an unsafe maneuver on your part?” You press. Your piercing gaze makes Max shift again.

Just stay polite, he thinks. But his frustration boils over.

“It was freaking racing, okay!” He snaps, his calm demeanor vanishing. “Shit happens! Lando didn’t leave me space and we collided. Don’t try to blame me!”

You lean back, eyes widening in surprise at his sudden outburst. Max’s heart drops, immediately regretting his loss of composure.

“Uh, sorry about that,” he mutters, not meeting your eyes. “I didn’t mean to curse.”

“No worries, I understand it’s a sensitive topic,” you say evenly. But inside, you’re taken aback. You’ve never seen Max Verstappen react like this.

Desperate to get the interview back on track, you move to the next question. “Let’s talk about your rivalry on the track. Do you feel the tension has somewhat decreased this season as you run ahead with the championship?”

Max nods, clinging to the redirect. “All twenty drivers on the grid are competitors at heart. For sure the rivalry grows each season. Not everyone is fighting for the title so there’s less at stake for some but that can change at any moment. There is always respect between us.”

His standard PR answer seems to bore you. Glancing at the clock, you start wrapping up the interview.

“Last question, Max. Any special plans for the British Grand Prix weekend?”

“Eh, not really,” Max mutters, still kicking himself for losing his temper earlier. So much for gentlemanly manners around ladies. You’ll surely think he’s a foul-mouthed jerk now.

“Okay, I think that’s all we have time for,” you say, standing up. “Thanks again for the interview, Max, I know you’re quite busy here.”

“Yep, no problem,” Max mumbles, avoiding eye contact.

You turn to leave, but stop. “And Max? Don’t worry too much about the clash with Lando. It happens to all drivers sometimes. See you around!” You flash him a smile before exiting.

Max sits stunned for a moment after you leave. Even after his swearing and temper, you hadn’t been upset with him.

A grin slowly spreads across his face. Maybe he hadn’t ruined his chances after all!

Walking back to the Red Bull motorhome, Max can’t stop thinking about you. The way you smiled at him, so warm and understanding. And how you smelled vaguely of lavender.

Max has been captivated since you arrived in the paddock but he has no idea how to approach you … or any woman for that matter.

His only experience is with fast cars, not beautiful reporters.

Pulling up to his driver room, Max is greeted by his physio, Bradley.

“How did it go mate? You look bothered,” Brad asks.

Max sighs. “That interview with Y/N was a disaster. I screwed it up!”

He recounts his slip-up angrily cursing about Lando to Brad, who tries to stifle a laugh.

“Really, that’s what you’re worried about? A little swearing? I’m sure she’s heard far worse around the paddock!”

“But the book said to never use foul language around ladies! To be a gentleman at all times! And I failed at the first test!” Max runs an agitated hand through his hair. “Now she’ll never consider me as a suitor.”

Brad gapes at him. “A suitor? Max, what century are you living in?” He glances down and notices the antique book peeking from Max’s backpack.

Grabbing it, Brad starts flipping through the pages incredulously.

“Wait, you’re actually trying to follow advice from this ancient thing to get a girl?”

Max tries to grab the book back, his cheeks reddening. “Give it back! Yes it’s old but shouldn’t dating still be proper and polite?”

“This stuff is wildly outdated. Just ask her out for drinks. Be yourself!” Brad gestures exasperatedly.

“I can’t just ask her out, are you crazy?” Max sputters. “What if she says no?”

Brad places a hand on his shoulder. “You’re the bloody world champion. And you’re not too hard on the eyes. She’d be mad to turn you down!”

Max cracks a reluctant smile, appreciating the confidence in him. Maybe Brad is right, Max considers. He just needs to relax and stop overthinking things.

“Tell you what, the team is throwing a big party after the race on Sunday. Why don’t you invite Y/N as your date?” Brad suggests.

Max’s stomach flutters nervously at the thought. “I guess I could try ...”

Brad claps him on the back. “That’s what I’m talking about! Now hand that daft old book over so I can throw it in the bin.”

“No! I mean … I’ll hold onto it,” Max says, snatching it back.

It may be outdated but it still has some wise words, he thinks. Even if he doesn’t follow everything word-for-word, a brush up on manners couldn’t hurt.

Max feels reenergized. One mishap wouldn’t ruin his chances with you.

This weekend he would focus on winning the British Grand Prix. And then he would ask you to be his date for the after-party.

Properly, like a gentleman.

What could go wrong?

A gentleman should compose handwritten letters with eloquence and embellished language to express his sentiments, as these missives often carry great weight.

Max sits at the desk in his driver room, pen poised over a pad of stationary borrowed from the hotel.

He takes a deep breath.

My Dearest Y/N …

He pauses. How exactly does he eloquently express his feelings here? Chewing the pen anxiously, he tries again.

My Dearest Y/N,

Since first you did arrive upon the Formula 1 scene, I have been captivated by your beauty and grace ...

Max groans, crumpling up the paper. This sounds ridiculous! But the book had stressed the importance of handwritten letters to woo a lady. And with his shyness around you in person, writing a letter seemed the best approach.

If only he could find the right words.

Staring at the blank sheet of paper, Max thinks back to the British Grand Prix last weekend. He had taken Brad’s advice and invited you to the post-race celebrations as his date.

To his delight, you had happily accepted.

The party had been going perfectly. You both laughed and chatted easily over drinks. Then the DJ started playing and Max got the courage to ask you to dance. With your hand in his, bodies swaying gently together, Max was sure this was his moment to finally tell you his feelings.

But when he tried, the words tangled up inside. His throat went dry and he could only stare mute into your eyes. The song ended and the magic of the moment faded. You slipped away back to your friends, leaving Max cursing his nervousness.

Which is why he’s now resorted to writing a letter. If only he can find the right poetic phrases, he would be able to express everything in his heart.

Chewing his lip, Max starts again.

My Dearest Y/N,

Ever since you did arrive in this paddock, I have admired you from afar. Your beauty and spirit doth light up the Formula 1 world. Being in your radiant presence doth make my heart soar ...

Max frowns. He sounds like Shakespeare on steroids. This is getting him nowhere. Crumpling up another attempt, he gets an idea. He needs advice from someone more eloquent. Pulling out his phone, he selects Daniel Ricciardo’s number.

“Maxie! To what do I owe the pleasure?” Daniel answers cheerily.

“I need your help. I’m trying to write a letter to Y/N telling her ...byou know, that I like her,” Max mumbles. “But I’m struggling with the words. You’re so smooth and charming — any advice?”

Daniel laughs loudly through the phone. “A love letter mate? That’s adorable!”

Max rolls his eyes. “Haha. Yes, it’s hilarious. Do you have any tips or not?”

“Hmm okay, don’t stress too much over the fancy wording. Keep it simple and heartfelt, you know? Just speak honestly about why you like her.”

Max nods. “Right, speak from the heart. I can do that.”

“Go get her champ! Let me know if you need any more romantic advice,” Daniel teases.

“Yeah, yeah, sure,” Max hangs up with a smile.

Taking a fresh piece of paper, he starts writing.

Dear Y/N,

I wanted to properly tell you how I feel about you. From the moment I first saw you in the paddock, I thought you were the most beautiful and amazing woman.

Your smile makes me weak. Being near you gives me butterflies in my stomach.

Spending time together at the party was really special for me. I wish I had told you then how I felt. But I get so nervous around you that the words don’t come out right. So I thought writing this might be easier.

I know we haven’t known each other long. But I would love the chance to get to know you more. Maybe we could have dinner sometime, if you feel the same way?

Let me know.

Yours,

Max

Max reads over the short letter and nods, satisfied. It’s simple and honest, just saying the thoughts he can never seem to speak out loud around you.

So, after carefully folding the stationary, Max slips out of the Red Bull motorhome in search of you.

Max finds you chatting with some other journalists near the media center. He hangs back shyly, waiting for you to be free.

You glance up and catch his eye, giving a smile and wave. Taking a deep breath, Max approaches.

“Hi, Y/N. Can I talk to you for a minute?”

“Of course!” You say, turning to him. The other reporters conveniently scatter, leaving the two of you alone.

“So uh, I wrote you this letter.” Max mutters, pulling the folded paper from his pocket. His palms are sweating and he rubs his neck nervously. “It’s just some thoughts I wanted to share with you.”

“Aww Max, you didn’t have to write me anything!” You beam at him sweetly.

Max shoves the letter toward you, willing himself to just give it over before he loses confidence. But as you reach out for it, anxiety grips him.

What if you reject him after reading it? Or worse, what if you show the soppy love letter to your coworkersto laugh about?

His pulse pounding, Max swiftly yanks the letter back. Before he can think twice, he starts hastily ripping it up into tiny shreds.

“Max!” You cry out in surprise. “What are you doing?”

“I, uh, just realized how weird it was to write you something so personal,” Max stammers, face flaming red.

He lets the shreds of paper fall from his fingers.

“Oh.” Your face falls in disappointment. “That’s too bad, I’m sure it was very thoughtful ...”

An awkward silence follows. Max curses internally, hating himself. Why had he chickened out at the last second? He scrambles for something to say.

“Yeah, it was too forward of me,” he rambles nervously. “I wouldn’t want people to get the wrong idea about us. Not that there is an us! I mean, we’re colleagues.”

You frown slightly in confusion. “Colleagues? I thought we were becoming friends ...”

“Right, yes friends!” Max amends quickly. “Friends is good. Don’t want rumors or gossip spreading. Not that what I wrote was gossip worthy! It was boring really, nothing important.”

He forces out a laugh, cringing at his bumbling excuse. You just stare at him in bewilderment.

“O-kay then ... well, I need to get back to work. See you around, Max.” You give him a strange look before turning away slowly.

Max watches you walk off, letting out a long groan once you’re out of earshot.

He slaps a hand to his forehead. Could that have gone any worse? He’d absolutely butchered it and now you must think he’s a complete weirdo.

Dejected, Max trudges back to the motorhome. He replays the scene in his head, berating himself over and over. If only he had the guts to just give you that letter!

Instead he had to go and make a complete fool of himself. There’s no way you have any interest in him now after witnessing that trainwreck.

Sulking back to his driver’s room, Max finds his teammate in the hallways.

“What’s up with you? You look like you just lost the championship,” Checo remarks.

Max just opens his door and flops down onto the sofa with a dramatic sigh. “I really screwed things up with Y/N ...”

He recounts the whole awkward encounter to Checo, who tries and fails to hold back laughter.

“It’s not funny!” Max snaps, tossing a scrunched up sock at him.

“Sorry, hermano,” Checo says, composing himself. “But really, I doubt it was that bad. Just explain to Y/N what happened and try again.”

“No way. It’s hopeless now,” Max moans. “I can’t face her after that.” He grabs one of the shredded letter pieces off the table, smoothing it out to reveal a fragment of his confession.

Crumpling it back up, Max tosses it aside bitterly. He definitely lost his chance thanks to his own nerves and stupidity.

Max does everything he can to avoid you over the next days, too embarrassed to face you after the letter fiasco. For your own part, you seem equally uncertain how to act around him now.

At races you keep interactions strictly professional. The ease and friendship that was developing between you is gone.

Max hates that he ruined everything before it could even really begin.

It’s not until the Dutch Grand Prix weeks later that you finally confront him.

“We should talk,” you say, catching Max alone after practice one day. “Why have you been avoiding me since Silverstone?”

Max shuffles his feet, staring at the ground. “I just made things weird with that letter. I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

You step closer, tilting his chin up gently so he meets your eyes.

“I thought the idea behind it was really sweet. I was so disappointed when you just ripped it up. I care about you, so don’t push me away, okay?”

Heart pounding, Max manages a sheepish nod.

You lean in slowly and kiss his cheek, pretending not to notice how his skin turns rosy.

“I’m still waiting to see what you wrote for me one day,” you whisper with a smile before walking off, leaving Max stunned.

Touching his cheek, a grin spreads across Max’s face. Maybe he hadn’t ruined everything after all.

The book might know a thing or two.

A gentleman should present small tokens of affection: Offering a lady flowers, a lock of hair, or a sentimental keepsake is a cherished practice.

Max paces the floor of his Monaco apartment, phone in hand as he scrolls through a website about flower meanings and symbolism.

Max clicks on the different options, overwhelmed. Who knew flowers were so complicated? Red roses mean passion but are too strong for courting. Yellow roses signify friendship. White lilies convey purity and innocence.

Max frowns. None of these seem quite right.

Finally he comes across the perfect choice — peonies. According to the guide, pink peonies signal romance, prosperity and good fortune.

Isn’t that romantic? This will be the ideal flower to to show how much he cares for you.

Satisfied with his floral choice, Max orders an impressive bouquet of pink peonies to be delivered to you before the upcoming race.

As soon as you receive them, he anxiously waits for your reaction.

To his disappointment, no thank you comes. In fact, you don’t acknowledge the flowers at all.

When Max finally spots you in the paddock on Thursday, his smile fades at your red-rimmed eyes and congested voice.

“Are you okay? You don’t look well,” Max frowns.

You give a stuffy laugh. “Thanks, just what every girl wants to hear.” Dabbing at your runny nose with a tissue, you sigh. “Sorry, I’m a mess today. Turns out I’m quite allergic to peonies. Those lovely flowers you sent put me out of commission the past two days.”

Max’s eyes widen in alarm. “Wait, you’re allergic to peonies? I had no idea, I’m so sorry!”

He mentally kicks himself. Some romantic gesture this was, practically making you ill. “I was just trying to do something nice ...” he says guiltily.

But you wave off his concern with a smile, touched that he went to such effort. “It’s really sweet of you, truly. They were beautiful. My immune system just seems to have other plans.”

Max shoves his hands in his pockets. “Let me make it up to you. What if I cook you dinner next week instead of flowers?”

Your cheeks flush slightly. “I would really like that.”

***

The following Tuesday, Max puts his meager cooking skills to use whipping up pasta. Pretty soon he has an aromatic tomato sauce simmering away while he slices bread for garlic toast.

When you arrive, bottle of wine in hand, Max greets you wearing a “World’s Okayest Chef” apron. Laughter and light banter flow easily between you two all evening. The domesticity of sharing a meal together feels wonderfully natural. Lingering glances and touches over the table make it clear this is now a proper date.

After dessert, you help Max tidy up the kitchen. Playfully flicking soap suds at each other soon turns into a full-on bubble fight. Laughing and stumbling into each other, Max ends up gently pinning you against the counter.

Your giggles trail off, smiles fading into something warmer. Slowly Max leans in, lips meeting yours in a soft kiss.

When you eventually pull apart, he rests his forehead against yours contentedly. No flowers or grand gestures needed.

Just this — being together.

***

Before free practice of the following race, Max seeks you out, fidgeting nervously with the small pair of scissors in his hands.

“I … I wanted to give you something special. A token of my affection for you.”

Before you can react, Max takes a lock of his light brown hair and starts snipping right there in front of you. Your eyes widen in surprise as the severed strands fall into his palm.

“It’s uh, a lock of my hair. For you to keep,” he explains, holding it out to you sheepishly.

You have to stifle a laugh at how earnest he looks. “Wow Max, that’s really thoughtful but you didn’t have to cut your hair for me!”

Max’s cheeks flush pink. “No, I want you to have it! To show, you know, that I’m devoted to you and all that ...” His voice trails off at your amused expression.

Maybe this romantic gesture is a bit stranger than he realized. But you take the lock of hair from him with a gracious smile.

“Well, I’ll always treasure a piece of you.”

His grin brightens. Then he remembers the other part of his gift. “Oh wait, there’s more!”

He pulls a small oval locket from his pocket and clicks it open to reveal an empty compartment.

“I thought you could keep the hair in this locket, close to your heart,” he explains earnestly. “That way you will always have a part of me with you.”

Your eyes soften, touched by the sentiment if not the unconventional nature of his gift. But seeing how much thought Max put into it makes you melt and you give him a quick kiss.

“It’s perfect, thank you. Here, would you put the hair inside for me?”

Carefully, Max places the strands into the golden locket and fastens it around your neck, face lit up.

“So you really like it then?”

You nod, gently clasping the locket in your hand. “I’ll cherish it always.”

A gentleman should bring a tasteful gift, such as a book of poetry or a hand-painted fan, as a gesture of appreciation for her hospitality when visiting a lady’s home.

Max double checks the address on his phone as he pulls up outside your London flat. He’s visiting for the first time today and wants to make a good impression.

Max looks down at your gift on the passenger seat — a squirming bengal kitten, licking up the treat Max had brought to calm her for the car ride.

You had completely fallen for his two rambunctious bengal cats when you met them at his apartment.

“They are just the cutest! I’ve always wanted a bengal,” you had cooed as Jimmy curled up contentedly in your lap while Sassy climbed across your shoulders.

So when Max saw that the ethical breeder he bought his cats from had this spirited little kitten available, he knew she would be the perfect gift for your first proper date at your home.

A living reminder of the night your relationship began.

Scooping up the wriggling furball, Max walks up and rings your buzzer.

You greet him at the door with a smile and quick kiss, then abruptly stop short at the sight of the kitten in his arms.

“Max, what is that?”

“It’s a bengal kitten!” He announces proudly, holding her up like he is reenacting The Lion King. “I got her for you, as a gift.”

He holds the mewling kitten out to you eagerly. You stare back, mouth agape.

“You got me a kitten? Max, that’s insane!” You exclaim. “Bengals cost thousands of euros, you can’t just show up with one. Oh my god, please tell me you didn’t seriously buy me a €3000 cat.”

Max’s smile falters, realizing suddenly how over-the-top the gift seems.

“I mean, I just wanted to do something really special for you,” he mumbles, face reddening.

The kitten lets out a pitiful meow. You bite your lip, conflicted. She really is adorable. And you know Max meant well with his lavish gesture. Sighing, you open your door wider.

“Okay, I guess I can’t turn away this cutie now. Come on in.”

Max’s face lights up in relief. “You’ll keep her then? That’s amazing!”

He carefully sets the energetic furball down and she immediately starts exploring. You have to laugh as she pounces and tumbles over her paws.

“She’s going to destroy all my stuff,” you stare resignedly as she claws her way up your upholstered couch, claws snagging the fabric.

Max waves off your concern. “Don’t worry, I’ll pay for anything she ruins. And I’ll make sure she can come to races too, so you’re never apart.”

You raise an eyebrow. “You think they’re going to let a kitten into the paddock?”

“Lewis brings Roscoe so they have to allow cats too or it’s not fair! Don’t worry, I will make it happen,” Max declares confidently.

Despite yourself, you smile at his determination. Gazing down at the kitten now nibbling your toe, your reservations melt away.

She really has stolen your heart already.

“Well, I guess we’re in this together now, huh little one?” You murmur. “Thank you. I think she’s the perfect gift.”

His whole face lights up at those words. Impulsively, you stand on tiptoe to kiss him.

“I think I’ll name her Emiliana,” you suggest softly. “Since she’s my special gift from Max Emilian Verstappen.”

Max grins. “I love that idea.”

Maybe Max is out of touch with normal gift-giving. But looking into his smiling eyes, you know everything he does comes from a place of love. And you wouldn’t change his thoughtfulness for anything.

Even if it means welcoming a hyperactive €3000 kitten into your life.

A gentleman should exercise prudence and restraint in the event that his family honor is insulted. Engaging in a duel must be the last resort, pursued only when all other means of resolving the matter have been exhausted.

“Who’s ready for her first race?” You coo to Emiliana, clipping a leash on to her harness. The energetic bengal kitten twirls in excited circles hearing the jingle of her collar.

Max chuckles, scooping Emiliana up. “I know you’ll love exploring the garage!” Kissing her furry head, he nestles her safely in his jacket pocket for the walk over.

Arriving at the bustling paddock, Max gently puts Emiliana down to allow her to explore, the kitten’s wide eyes reflect the flash of cameras and bright team colors swirling around. With Max’s hand securely in yours, you both smile proudly showing her off to the other drivers and staff.

Most are delighted, stopping to fawn over the curious feline. But as you pass by the Alpine motorhome, she ends up scampering across the asphalt and almost tripping Esteban Ocon in the process.

“Ugh, control your overgrown rat!” He grumbles loudly.

Max freezes, blood boiling at the insult toward Emiliana. Clenching his fists, he spins to confront Esteban. But you grab his arm firmly.

“Max, stop. He’s not worth it,” you murmur. After a tense moment, Max reluctantly relaxes his stance, not wanting to cause a scene.

You steer him away, stroking Emiliana comfortingly. “Don’t listen to the mean man, sweetie. You are perfect.”

But Max continues seething silently.

The remainder of the weekend passes uneventfully and you assume Max has let go of the unpleasant encounter. But once the race starts, you grow anxious seeing the two drivers battling unusually close together.

Sure enough, despite leading comfortably, Max slows his car to allow Esteban to catch up. Your heart drops as Max then swerves aggressively into Esteban’s side, sending him spinning off in a blaze of shredded carbon fiber. Meanwhile, Max continues on unfazed to take the chequered flag.

You’re fuming when Max finally makes his way back to the garage. Seeing your crossed arms and fiery glare, his triumphant smile fades.

“I know what you’re going to say ...” he starts guiltily.

“That you promised not to seek revenge and then deliberately crashed Esteban?” You snap.

Max winces. “Seeing him just brought back all that anger ...”

“So you decided to punt him at 200 mph?” You throw your hands up in exasperation.

“I was not thinking clearly,” Max scuffs his shoe. “My temper took over again.”

Your anger melts slightly seeing Max’s remorse. With a sigh, you pull him into a tight hug. “Do you have any idea how badly you both could’ve been hurt by pulling a stunt like that?”

Max looks down, properly chastised. “You’re right, it was really dangerous what I did.”

“Not to mention nearly ruining your own race!”

“I didn’t care about losing position,” Max admits. “I have already secured the championship. Defending Emiliana’s honor was more important in the moment.”

You shake your head. “Our kitten’s honor is not worth you risking your life! Please think these things through before acting so rashly.”

“You’re right, I wasn’t thinking straight,” Max says sincerely. “I promise to be more responsible going forward. No more putting myself or anyone else in danger over petty spats.”

He hugs you close again. “Thank you for keeping me rational and safe.”

You smile up at him with a soft laugh, letting some of your tension melt away. "Someone has to.”

A gentleman should keep a strict code of chivalry: Offer your seat to a lady, hold doors, and protect her from harm, both physical and emotional.

The Singapore Grand Prix is always a grueling one thanks to the heat and humidity. But this weekend, Mother Nature seems intent on making it even tougher.

Dark ominous clouds have been building all afternoon before finally bursting open right as final practice ends. Fat raindrops pelt down rapidly, sending the paddock scrambling for cover.

Safely under the shelter of the Red Bull garage, Max keeps an eye out for you. He knows you’re stuck in the media pen finishing interviews along with the other reporters.

Sure enough, he spots your ponytail across the pen, soaked through as you attempt to shield your equipment from the downpour.

Without thinking, Max hands off his mic and races out into the rain toward you. Holding his team jacket over your head, he guides you under the shelter of a nearby awning.

“Oh my gosh, Max! You’re soaked!” You exclaim, taking in his drenched state.

But Max just shrugs it off. “I’ll be fine, don’t worry. Couldn’t let you get caught out there though.”

He rubs your arms briskly, trying to warm you up. Seeing you shivering in your thin blouse — now transparent from the rain — Max feels a pang of protectiveness.

“Here, let me get you something dry ...” He sprints off, returning minutes later with a Red Bull hoodie and umbrella from his driver’s room.

Bundling you up in the warm dry clothes, Max finally relaxes. “Sorry I couldn’t get here sooner. But I wasn’t about to leave you stranded in that!”

You smile up at him, sincerely touched. “My hero! Thank you, superstar.”

Leaning up on your tiptoes, you give him a soft kiss. Max thinks that heart swells three sizes, thrilled that he was able to protect you.

As the weekend goes on, Max keeps finding little ways to display chivalry. Opening doors, giving you his seat, shielding you with umbrellas whenever the rain returns.

You assure him that the fussing is unnecessary but Max insists. He wants you to feel cared for and safe at all times.

Unfortunately, not everyone in the paddock shares that sentiment.

You’re rushing to grab some coffee before the race when you overhear a muttered conversation by a group of reporters that are huddled together.

“There she is — Verstappen’s girl ...”

“Ugh, it’s so obvious she only got the job with Sky Sports because they’re dating.”

“Sleeping her way to the top if you ask me. No way she’d be here otherwise ...”

Their cruel laughter cuts through you sharply. Blinking back sudden tears, you hurry away before they can notice you.

Of course you’ve dealt with doubters questioning your skill and merits before. It’s an occupational hazard as a woman in motorsport.

But having your relationship with Max twisted in such a way stings deeply.

Arriving at the grid, you paste on a smile and try not to let the nasty remarks ruin your day. You have always had to work twice as hard to prove yourself and you were not going to give up now.

But Max notices that something is off immediately. And, when you keep avoid his concerned gaze, he gently presses for answers.

“What’s wrong, liefde? And don’t say nothing,” he adds, seeing you open your mouth to brush it off.

You sigh, reluctantly telling him about the reporters’ hurtful comments. Instantly Max’s jaw tightens, anger flashing in his eyes.

“Who said that? Point them out to me.”

You hesitate, not wanting to cause a scene. But Max takes your hand firmly.

“I won’t let them get away with questioning your integrity like that. It’s unacceptable.”

So you subtly point out the gossiping reporters huddled nearby. Max’s gaze darkens. Turning on his heel, he marches straight for the media center.

By the time you catch up, he’s already deep in a terse conversation with Formula 1’s head of communications.

You watch in astonishment as the offenders’ media access is promptly revoked despite their loud protests. But Max stands firm, insisting this is non-negotiable if he is expected to keep participating in his media duties.

When he finally returns to you, his anger has melted away into concern. “I’m so sorry you had to hear their garbage. Don’t ever listen to it, okay? You are brilliant at what you do.”

Your eyes well up again but this time from gratitude. Even during the pre-race chaos, Max made defending you his top priority.

“Thank you,” you whisper, hugging him tightly. “My knight in shining racing gear.”

Max just holds you close, wishing he could shield you from all harm. Because your happiness and comfort are paramount to him. And Max will gladly take on any dragon — or unscrupulous reporter — that dares to threaten that.

With Max by your side, ready to come to your aid in rain or shine, you know everything will be okay.

A gentleman should always be well-dressed in the latest fashions and ensure that his cravat is tied to perfection.

Max frowns down at the open suitcase on his bed, clothes strewn everywhere. He’s digging through the wardrobe he packed trying to find something stylish to wear for the United States Grand Prix.

The problem is, Max has no idea what the latest fashions even are. Jeans and a team-branded shirt are his staples both on and off the track. But he needs to make more effort for you.

Sifting through his options unsuccessfully, Max sighs. There’s nothing here that screams high fashion. He would have to do the unthinkable and ask advice from someone … like Lewis Hamilton.

Max cringes at the thought of approaching his rival for fashion help. But Lewis is always complemented for his outfits so he is clearly an expert on the subject.

Swallowing his pride, Max fires off a text before he can overthink it.

To his surprise, Lewis responds enthusiastically with suggestions and styling tips. Their competitive rivalry is momentarily forgotten as the veteran driver dedicates all day to helping Max looking sharp.

Arriving at the paddock on Thursday morning, Max scrutinizes his reflection anxiously while scanning his pass. He’s wearing slim-fitting distressed jeans with a silky patterned shirt that Lewis instructed was to be left half-unbuttoned.

Definitely way flashier than his normal attire but Lewis assured him it was very on-trend. So Max takes a deep breath and heads out to find you.

Your eyes widen in surprise taking in his dramatic style overhaul. “Whoa, look at you!”

Max preens a bit, relieved that you don’t seem to be put off by his bold fashion choice.

“I figured it was time to elevate my fashion game,” he spins cheekily to show off the full look.

You have to stifle a laugh at seeing straight-laced Max suddenly dressing like a runway model after fans used to be shocked to see him in anything other than a white shirt.

It’s certainly different but cute that he’s putting in so much effort for your relationship.

As the weekend continues, so does Max’s parade of high fashion outfits. He turns up looking like he stepped off a catwalk in trendy printed shirts, embroidered jackets, and even sequined trousers.

By Sunday, the dramatic style transformation has paddock tongues wagging. Max appears entirely oblivious to the gossip though, just happy that his attempts to impress you seem to be working.

But watching him awkwardly fidget with the billowing oversized silk sleeves of today’s shirt as he tries to focus on preparing for the race, you realize that this isn’t your Max. Not really.

Catching his eye, you gesture for him to join you out of earshot and away from the view of cameras. Gently taking his hands, you meet his gaze.

“Be honest with me, what’s going on with the makeover? This isn’t like you at all.”

He ducks his head with a sheepish smile. “I just wanted to dress nicely for you this weekend. Like a proper gentleman.”

You lift his chin until he’s looking at you again. “You don’t have to try and be someone else for me. I like you for you — jeans, team kit, and all.”

Max’s shoulders relax in relief. “Yeah?”

“Of course! Please don’t feel like you ever have to change.” You lean up to kiss him softly. “Now let’s get you into some racing gear, champ.”

A gentleman should know that prolonged eye contact is a powerful tool for conveying one’s intentions.

“So Max, I have to ask about the incident with Carlos last race. Do you think your aggression was over the line?”

You fixes Max with an inquisitive gaze, microphone poised as you wait for his response. But instead of answering, he just stares back intensely without blinking.

After a long awkward pause, you shift in your seat. “Uh, Max? Did you hear my question?”

“Hmm? Oh right, yeah. It was just racing, these things happen,” he says vaguely, eyes never leaving yours.

You move on to the next question, puzzled by his distracted behavior. Throughout the interview, Max continues gazing at you unwaveringly.

It’s a bit unsettling to have him stare so fixedly without looking away.

Finally you wrap up the stilted conversation, feeling relieved to escape his laser focus. What was up with that?

Over the weekend, you catch Max staring silently at you on numerous occasions — in hospitality, on the grid, across the garage. Without blinking or looking away, he’ll fix you with that powerful gaze until you flush and look away first.

By Sunday you’ve gotten used to the drawn out m moments of extended eye contact.

But during the post-race press conference, Max cranks it up a notch. As you ask Charles a question about the race, you feel Max’s eyes boring into the side of your face. Glancing over, you nearly fumble your recorder.

He’s just ... staring. Blatantly. Right at you as you’re trying to have a professional conversation.

The other drivers keep sneaking amused looks between you two and trying to hide their snickers.

You finally wrap up hurriedly, flustered by Max’s unrelenting eye contact. As the rest of the press file out, you hang back.

“So the whole staring thing ... we’re really doing that huh?” You raise an eyebrow at him.

Max has the grace to look sheepish. “Oh, sorry, I didn’t mean to throw you off! I’ve just been trying to connect with you even more.”

You have to stifle a laugh imagining him sternly holding his own gaze in a mirror for practice. “I could tell! But maybe dial it down a little bit during interviews?”

Rubbing his neck, Max chuckles. “Yeah good call.”

He’s quiet for a moment before meeting your eyes again, this time softer. “I do like the way it makes me focus just on you though. Like the rest of the world fades away.”

“Yeah,” you duck your head, “I like that part too.”

Max’s eyes crinkle at the corners as he smiles. Reaching out, he gently tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

When Max leans in, eyes fluttering closed, you let yourself get lost in the moment. The outside world disappears and all that’s left is his lips on yours, saying more than words ever could.

A gentleman should never speak of his own accomplishments or wealth in a boastful manner, instead let your actions and character speak for themselves.

“Liefde, have you seen my phone charger?” Max calls from the living room of his apartment. “Nevermind, found it!”

He grabs the charger off of the coffee table, narrowly avoiding knocking over the World Drivers’ Championship trophy displayed prominently in the center.

You stifle an amused smile as you enter. Ever since you jokingly teased Max about being humble, he has made his accomplishments strangely hard to ignore.

Like the fact that his trophy room door now mysteriously stays wide open whenever you’re over. Or how he keeps offering for you to take Air Max whenever you need to travel instead of flying commercial. It’s his unique way of bragging without actually saying a word.

Joining him on the sofa, you have to shoo away one of the cats that is trying to swat the trophy off the table. Max just grins.

“Sassy really loves that thing! Although I guess I can’t blame her, it is very shiny.”

You laugh, curling into his side. “It certainly seems to belong front and center lately. Along with your three championship-winning helmets on the table in the foyer.”

Max attempts an innocent look that doesn’t quite stick. “What? They’re nice decorative pieces!”

“Mmhmm,” you hum skeptically. Glancing around, you note magazine covers bearing his face displayed on the walls along with a framed race-worn suit hanging randomly next to the kitchen.

Meeting his eyes, you give him a knowing look. Max holds your gaze for a moment before cracking.

“Okay fine, I may have highlighted some ... accomplishments since your little humble comment,” he admits with a sheepish grin.

You have to laugh. “Max, you know I was just teasing you! I would never want you to downplay your achievements.”

Twisting to face him, you take his hands in yours. “You’ve worked so hard for everything you have. Please don’t feel like you can’t be proud about it.”

Max’s expression softens. “I know and I am really proud of my racing success.” Glancing around the trophy-filled apartment, he chuckles. “Maybe a bit too loudly recently.”

You lean in to kiss him tenderly. “I love you and I’m so proud of you. But it’s this,” you tap his chest on top of his heart, “This is what made me fall for you, not the jet or the trophies.”

“Yeah?” Max asks, eyes crinkling happily.

You snuggle into his shoulder. “Of course. You’ll always just be my Max.”

But then the gifts start arriving. An Hermes Birkin bag here … some Van Cleef jewelry there. Presented nonchalantly but you know that their extravagance is no accident.

Finally, you have to say something when a couture Chanel gown appears in your hotel room one day.

“What’s going on with all these gifts all of a sudden?” You ask gently.

“Nothing! I just want to treat my amazing girlfriend the way she deserves to be treated.”

You raise an eyebrow and look … and look … and look … until Max cracks. “Okay fine, I may have been trying to show off a bit,” he admits. “But it’s hard not to when I want to give you the world!”

Your expression softens. Taking his hands, you wait until he meets your eyes.

“You could give me plastic rings and clothing from the thrift store and I would be just as happy. Your love means everything to me, not material things.”

“Really?”

You nod and climb into his lap to connect your lips in a slow kiss. Pulling back, you add teasingly, “But I am keeping the dress.”

He laughs, all tension vanishing. “Of course, it will look incredible on you. Like everything does.”

A gentleman should demonstrate a willingness to adapt to a lady’s interests and preferences, cultivating shared hobbies and passions.

“Here we are!” You announce, gesturing at the entrance of the padel club. “I know you’ll love this. It combines the best parts of tennis, squash, and racquetball.”

Taking Max’s hand, you lead him inside eagerly. You’ve been trying to get him to try padel, your favorite hobby, for ages. Finally convincing him to play while visiting him in Monaco, you do a quick rundown of the rules in the locker room.

“So basically we score just like in tennis but the walls and mesh are also in play. You can use them to bounce shots off of strategically,” you explain, miming hitting the ball off the glass wall.

Max nods along, game face on. He’s determined to share your passion for this sport.

“Got it. Use the walls, beat the opponents, win the match,” he summarizes confidently.

You laugh. “Pretty much! Now let’s go kick some butt out there.”

Gripping your paddles, you head onto the slick court. Max gravitates right to the mesh wall, intrigued by the unique setup.

You have to hide your grin — he’s like a kid exploring and testing shots out eagerly. His competitive nature means that he is completely engrossed within minutes.

And Max certainly has a knack for padel. His fast reflexes and coordination transfer over as he adapts his technique. Soon you’re both moving seamlessly around each other, dominating the points against a random couple Max had convinced to play against the two of you.

Hours later, sweaty but exhilarated, Max slings an arm around you grinning.

“That was epic! This is such an awesome game, I can’t wait to play more.” His excitement makes your heart swell. Nothing better than sharing your interests with someone special.

Over the next weeks, you find any excuse to play padel together. On lazy mornings, Max coaxes you out of bed. During race weeks, you even manage to squeeze in a few matches after media day.

Soon Max transforms into a padel fanatic, always scouting new courts and competition. His dedication to mastering every shot warms your heart. And the silly trash talk and celebrations make every match so much fun.

It was no surprise when Max decided to organize a players tournament between races. Getting the other drivers involved had your makeshift paddock league battling it out.

“Here for the padel party!” Daniel crows, showing up in head-to-toe tennis gear.

Charles, Carlos, Lando, and Pierre are there too, warming up their swings. You help Max demonstrate the rules, the other guys teasing him good-naturedly about his new obsession.

Once play begins though, the intensity heats up quickly. Max’s laser focus kicks in as he charges around you protectively, looking to crush anyone who dares hit near you. Luckily you hold your own plenty well too against the drivers.

When the final point is called in your favor, Max tackles you in an exuberant hug, the guys applauding around you. Grinning and flushed with exertion, you all head inside to refuel and celebrate a fun day of sport and competition.

One padel date turned into a shared passion that bonded you both with the other drivers too. And seeing your smile reflecting Max’s own euphoric one, you know this is only the start of many joyful tournaments and casual games together.

Maybe Max went a bit over-the-top in his newfound padel fever. But his willingness to dive headfirst into your interests fills you with more love than you ever thought possible.

Having someone care enough to enter your world so fully and share the things that light you up — that’s the most meaningful gesture of all.

A gentleman should learn to play a musical instrument or be a connoisseur of music, as serenading a lady can be a charming expression of affection.

Max turns the acoustic guitar over in his hands, plucking experimentally at the strings.

With your birthday coming up, serenading you seems like the perfect romantic gesture. Now he just has to actually learn how to play this thing. It seems simple enough — how hard can the guitar really be?

Max starts pressing on the strings randomly, the resulting discordant notes making him wince.

Okay, this might take some work.

Pulling up a beginner tutorial on his phone, he starts practicing the basic chords. But his fingers fumble clumsily, refusing to contort into the proper shapes. The more he tries, the worse the mangled sounds get.

Frustrated after the thirty minute lesson yields little improvement, Max sighs. “How am I supposed to woo my girlfriend with music if I can’t even play a damn C chord?”

Time for a professional to step in. Max books lessons with a private guitar instructor, determined to nail this down in time for your birthday surprise.

At the first lesson, the instructor eyes Max’s hands critically. “Right, let’s start by getting your fingers conditioned ...”

He takes Max through various stretching and dexterity exercises to limber up. Max nods along dutifully until the instructor pulls out a contraption with rubber bands and metal prongs.

“What the hell is that thing?” Max asks warily.

“A finger strengthener — we need to work on your independence and stamina,” he explains matter-of-factly, fitting the device over Max’s hand.

Max grimaces as the rubber bands strain against his fingers. The instructor just nods approvingly. “Perfect, twenty minutes per day with that.”

By the end of the torturous lesson, the only progress Max has made is identifying the parts of the guitar. He’s nowhere close to actually playing.

Max leaves discouraged but even more motivated to conquer the instrument somehow before your birthday. He continues meeting with the instructor multiple times a week, practicing rigorously outside of lessons too.

You notice his new habit of constantly stretching his fingers but Max plays it off casually not wanting to spoil the surprise.

The week before your birthday, Max has made marginal improvements but is still far from properly playing full songs. Desperate, he invites the instructor over for one final intensive lesson.

After two grueling hours of relentless drills, the instructor throws his hands up. “I’ve never had a student struggle this much with guitar basics. Maybe we should consider something easier, like the triangle or a recorder ...”

“No!” Max interrupts forcefully. “The guitar is a classic romantic instrument. I just need more practice before her party tomorrow.”

The instructor sighs. “If you say so. Just keep working on your fretting transitions and we’ll hope for the best.”

After he leaves, Max stays up late into the night strumming determinedly. By your birthday, his fingers are sore and calloused within an inch of their lives. But he can semi-confidently stumble through a love song and that’s enough for tonight.

When the moment arrives, he takes a deep breath and begins gently playing the intro to “Thinking Out Loud,” ready to serenade you. Max makes it halfway through before the chords descend into choppy noise.

You still applaud enthusiastically after, smiling ear to ear. “That was amazing, my love! Thank you so much.”

Max ducks his head bashfully. “It still needs some work. But I’m glad you liked it.”

Laughing, you take his tortured hands and kiss each fingertip. “I loved it because it came from you. That’s all that matters to me.”

Warmth blooms in Max’s chest. No matter how imperfect, you appreciated his efforts because of how much heart he put into it just for you.

In the end, no amount of lessons could transform Max into a virtuoso overnight. But he did become accomplished in one universal language — love.

And at the end of the day, that means everything.

A gentleman should recognize and appreciate a lady’s accomplishments, whether in the arts, charity work, or society.

“So Max, what are your thoughts on taking pole position here in Brazil?” The reporter asks.

Max grins into the mic. “Yeah, feels great to put it on pole here. The team has done an amazing job dialing in the car.”

He pauses and then adds, “Of course my girlfriend Y/N also put in a stellar qualifying effort yesterday covering the action for Sky Sports. Her commentary is always so eloquent and insightful.”

The reporter smiles amused as Max continues raving about your on-air skills for several minutes before remembering to refocus him on the results of the actual qualifying seasion.

This has become a familiar trend lately in Max’s interviews. No matter the question, he manages to redirect the conversation to highlight your various talents.

“... our pace was really strong today, I think we will be able to keep the top step tomorrow. Oh, speaking of strong pace, Y/N just ran a personal best 5k time last week during training ...”

In team debriefs, the same thing happens. Engineer queries about race strategy are derailed into praise about your presenting skills. PR reps trying to discuss Max’s social media posts somehow end up hearing about your recent venture into pottery making instead.

Even in casual conversations, you come up constantly.

“Morning, Max! How are you today?” His trainer asks while spotting a weight lifting session.

“Doing great! Y/N is also doing great, she’s learning Dutch and picking it up so quickly. Have I mentioned how talented she is with languages?”

By now the whole paddock is highly familiar with your many accomplishments, since Max seizes every possible opportunity to spotlight them.

You find it rather endearing, if a bit silly at times. Like when Max commandeered an entire interview just to detail the charities that you volunteer with.

“You know I’m capable of mentioning my own accomplishments if they come up naturally, right?” You tease him later.

Max looks sheepish. “I know, I just like bragging about you! I’m really proud of everything you do.”

You soften, giving him a quick kiss. “That’s really sweet. But maybe tone down the constant spotlight a little?” You suggest gently.

“Noted,” Max chuckles.

He makes an effort after that to highlight your achievements only when truly relevant. Because while he could praise you all day, Max also respects your wishes.

And he realizes you don’t need him to validate your worth — your talents speak for themselves. But he still can’t resist sharing little proud snippets whenever your accomplishments come up organically.

Over time you appreciate Max’s admiration and support more and more. Having someone so genuinely invested in all aspects of your life is incredibly touching.

Maybe he goes a bit overboard in his praising sometimes. But knowing that Max is always your biggest cheerleader, when it comes to racing coverage or otherwise, means everything.

A gentleman should seek the permission of the lady’s father or guardian before proposing, demonstrating respect for her family and social conventions. Once granted, he should choose an intimate setting for the proposal, away from the public eye. He must then express his intentions with sincerity, dropping to one knee and presenting a ring as a symbol of his commitment.

Max takes a deep breath, fidgeting with the small velvet box in his pocket. Today’s the day — he’s going to ask your father for permission to marry you.

You’ve reassured Max time and time again that your dad loves him but that does nothing to settle his nerves as he knocks on the front door of your childhood home.

When your father welcomes Max inside warmly, he relaxes slightly. Clearing his throat, Max launches into the speech he prepared.

“Sir, I’ve come today because I want to ask for your daughter’s hand in marriage. We have been together for years now and I want to spend the rest of my life with her, completely committed to her happiness. She is the most amazing person I’ve ever known.”

Max pauses, blushing. “Sorry, I had this whole thing planned out better. I guess what I’m asking is — may I have your blessing to propose to Y/N?”

Your dad grins, clapping Max on the shoulder. “You know you didn’t have to be so formal about this. I already see you as part of the family.”

Max smiles bashfully. “I just wanted to show my respect for you and Y/N. Your blessing would mean a lot to me.”

“You have it absolutely. I couldn’t imagine anyone better for her than you.” He pulls Max into a hug. “Welcome to the family, son.”

Max leaves on cloud nine, thrilled to have this traditional step done right. Now on to planning the perfect proposal location away from prying eyes ...

After scouring options, Max selects a peaceful mountaintop in the Swiss Alps. Complete with luxury chalet just for the two of you — intimate but romantic.

Max painstakingly decorates it with flowers, candles, and photos of your relationship throughout the years. For the ring, he chooses two large natural diamonds in an unique asymmetrical setting, symbolic of two imperfect halves making a flawless whole.

Now fully prepared, Max just has to wait for your upcoming vacation to pop the question. He spends the days leading up to it buzzing with nervous excitement.

The helicopter ride to the mountain is pure torture for him. What if you say no? What if he fumbles the proposal speech? Endless doubts race through Max’s mind.

But as soon as he sees your delighted smile taking in the warmly lit cabin, his anxiety melts away. This evening is about letting his heart speak.

Through a private chef-cooked dinner, your laughter echoes in the chalet just like it always sounds. Full of joy and life and love.

Max knows that he’s ready.

Taking your hand gently, he leads you outside onto the moonlit balcony. Time to finally ask you to be his forever.

Max clears his throat, meeting your eyes. “Y/N, from the moment I met you, my world changed. Your smile and your light fill my days with meaning. You make me a better man.”

He slowly kneels, pulling out the ring box with trembling fingers. “I want to laugh with you, cry with you, share every high and low for the rest of our lives. Will you make me the luckiest man in the universe by becoming my wife?”

You clasp a hand over your mouth, eyes glimmering with tears. You only manage to get out a watery “Yes!” before also dropping to your knees in front of him.

Grinning ear to ear, Max slides the ring onto your finger with a kiss. “I promise to always love and cherish you.”

“And I promise the same to you, today and always.”

You throw your arms around him, both giddy with joy under the stars.

The customs that got you to this moment may have been old-fashioned but your love is timeless.

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daddyricsdoll · 2 months

Note

Could you please write something with “Fuck, I’ll make it fit.” For Oscar ? And can it be smut?

1k ✭ Celebration

📜⋆.ೃ🕯️࿔*: 🕰 ˚⊹

“Such a fucking good girl.” Oscar stands up from between my thighs, keeping my feeble body pinned to the wall. His pupils blown out and my arousal coating his lips. “So good I think you can take my cock.” Oscar’s hands now doing the work of his pants, before he stops and looks at me. “Can you take my cock?”

“Y-yes.” I stutter out, heart pounding in my ears and pussy throbbing. He smiles to himself before finally sliding his pants off. Revealing his large cock, from girth and length. And to think that just an hour ago we were strangers.

It was no lie that he was big, but I’m also tight, bringing me to awe at how Oscar will force himself inside of me– because from the short time of knowing him, I’ve learnt that this isn’t a battle he’ll lose.

Using his foot to spread my feet apart even wider, Oscar lifts one of my legs up to linger beside his hip. Teasing my folds with his tip that already drips with a bead of precum. Tantalising my clit and making each second feel like hours.

My eyes hooded as I tried my best to look up at Oscar, a sheen of sweat coating his light skin and hair fallen to cover his forehead. He pushes against my stubborn entrance, his groan intoxicating. Pushing again, and forcing my hips closer to his.

“Fuck, I’ll make it fit.” Obliging himself to it. Making short vigorous thrusts, Oscar manages to slowly get his dick deeper inside of me. A sharp searing pain between my legs, being coated with rapture and turning the pain into ecstasy. I held onto his broad shoulders for stability.

My legs shaking once Oscar finally fits his whole shaft in me.

“It’s so hard to not just cum in you right now.” He groans, head coming to rest in the hollow of my neck to bite my skin. Pulling out and then thrusting back in. Replacing his mouth with his hand to choke me. Oscar's other arm grabbing the bottom half of my body, ravenous to reach spots no one ever has before.

He holds dominance over my whole body. The brunette’s lips are so alluring that I try to close the gap between us. But his hand against my throat, denying me of any action I try to make on my own.

Any normal day there would be a fight for control, but with Oscar I’d let him ruin me and then come back to do it again. Cock already stretching me out, turning everything surreal, stars appearing in my eyesight. Every part of me on fire and Oscar just pours more gasoline. Making me helpless.

My desire for him grows even as he forces each breath out of my lungs. Every detail of his dick being ingrained into my memory as he rams in and out. Hot tears crawling down my face.

“Being such a good dumb slut for me. Gonna let me cum deep inside of your tight cunt.”

Words became foreign to me, so I hummed in response, being interrupted by a moan that involuntarily left my swollen lips. “That’s it.” Oscar grunts, hands gripping my ass and throat tighter.

Skin colliding becomes the loudest noise in the room, overpowering our pornographic moans and whines.

“ ‘m gonna cum Osc.” Squeezing against his throbbing dick and wailing when Oscar starts attacking my neck with his mouth, other hand playing with my breasts.

“Release, my slut.” The name would usually bring disgust to me, but Oscar saying it has a different effect. Being the last thing to tip me off. Finally letting go and coming. Still on a high as Oscar reaches his climax. Shooting his cum deep inside of me, and covering my walls in him.

“Fuck, you feel too good to pull out of.”

“Then don’t.”

697 notes · View notes

mclqren · 27 days

Text

SPORTING SECRETS ★ CL16

PAIRING ✦ charles leclerc x fem!footballer!reader

SUMMARY ✦ you are a famous footballer & you have been dating charles in secret for some time, but your fans start to piece together the clues when they spot him at one of your matches [ SMAU ]

WARNINGS ✦ cursing

REQUESTED ✦ here!

NOTES ✦ reader plays for the arsenal women's team. the fc i've used is alessia russo, but feel free to picture whoever you want! my requests are open so feel free to leave a request :)

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

liked by leahwilliamsonn, bethmead_, and 214,990 others

yourusername match ready for this weekend ❤️

view all comments

user1 i literally aspire to be like you when i get older

user2 she does it againnn!!

user3 london is RED ❤️❤️

liked by yourusername

bethmead_ my girllll 💘

yourusername love youu!!

user4 i look up to her sm

user5 sameee!!

user6 HOW IS SHE SINGLE STILLL

user7 literally NO CLUE HOW

charles_leclerc

( caption one: guess where i am 😍 | caption two: london 🇬🇧 )

liked by kimlittle1990, charles_leclerc, and 252,111 others

yourusername walking back after a victory this weekend:

view all comments

user12 LETS FUCKING GOOO

user13 KNEW YOU COULD DO ITTT!!

leahwilliamsonn ❤️❤️

yourusername foreverrrr! ❤️

user14 is no one going to talk about how CHARLES LECLERC is in her likes??

user15 i swear he's been following her for a while, though?

user16 yup!! but this is the first time they're actually interacting with each other on the internet

liked by bethmead_, charles_leclerc, and 292,400 others

yourusername best end to the weekend!! ft millie 💘

view all comments

user17 MILLIE IS BACKKKK!!

user18 ugh y/n is such a cutie i can't

user19 OKAY BUT WHO IS THAT GUYYY??

user20 Y/N HAS A MAN??

user21 i'm kindaaa surprised but not really bc LOOK AT HER

bethmead_ so who's the man that's replaced me

yourusername shhh look away ❤️

charles_leclerc millieee!!

yourusername my fav 💘

user22 THE COMMENT FROM CHARLES HELLO?

user23 my two worlds colliding is this a fever dream.

liked by yourusername, carlossainz55, and 1,101,767 others

tagged yourusername

charles_leclerc my y/n - aka the best footballer i've ever met (other than myself, of course) i'm so happy we can finally share our love with the rest of the world. forever and always, i love you ❤️

view all comments

user25 WHERE IS THAT GIRL ON TWITTER BC SHE MUST BE PUNCHING THE AIR RN.

user26 SOMEONE GIVE HER A MEDAL

user27 AHHH SHES SO CUTE!!

user28 NEW PARENTS UNLOCKED

user29 wait can someone tell me who she is??

user30 y/n l/n!! she's a footballer for the arsenal wfc and she's sooo fucking perfect!

user29 ahh!! she's so gorgeous! 💗💗

yourusername the way you posted this without my permission is crazyyy...

charles_leclerc had to let the world know at some point 😘

yourusername i love you tooo! (the caption abt you being better is def a lie but okay!)

charles_leclerc excuse me i dominated the game??

yourusername how - by falling flat on ur ass??

user30 OKAY THEIR DYNAMIC>>>

liked by charles_leclerc, bethmead_, and 401,928 others

tagged charles_leclerc

yourusername charlieee my love!! thank you so much for supporting me for just over a year (crazy how no one managed to clock us for it until now), you mean so so much to me! p.s. if you ever want to say ur better than me at football, take a look at the last pic. you're welcome. 😊😊

view all comments

user31 STILL CAN'T BELIEVE IT TOOK US SO LONG TO FIGURE OUT

user32 FR like we're meant to be so diligent??

user33 AW MY HEARTTT

user34 icl him in that first pic>>> WOW

bethmead_ still can't believe you replaced me :(

yourusername no one could ever replace you, come over rn 😘

bethmead_ omw!!

charles_leclerc i love you

yourusername LOVE YOU MORE

user35 my heart can't handle this sedate me now.

charles_leclerc WHY THE LAST PIC

yourusername i get to insult you every once in a while 💘

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

#f1 x reader #f1 #f1 smau #f1 imagine #f1 imagines #formula one x reader #f1 x you #formula 1 #f1 fanfic #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc x y/n #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x reader #smau #formula one x you #mclqren #f1 x female reader #f1 x y/n

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tflaw · 8 months

Note

Bless u for papa neuvi 😩👌

now im brainrotting about the melusines that absolutely treats neuvi’s son like their own little brother and helps the reader takes care of him whenever his papa’s too busy with a trial 😩😩😩

౨ৎ ⋆˚ where the heart is ft. neuvilette. reader is referred to as ‘wife’. fluff — or at least an attempt was made ;; ++ here’s another one of papa!neuvillette <33 enjoy !! this is not proofread.

—

having a kid results in a lot of different things. one of which is a perpetually chaotic house right at the crack of a glorious morning. it’s particularly in disarray during weekdays and whenever court necessitates neuvillette’s absence from home.

“i’m sorry to leave you alone this early, darling. but i must, so i can be home before the sun goes down.” neuvillette kisses the top of your head while carrying your little boy in his arms.

“you needn’t worry; this little guy and i can manage. right, sweet boy?” with a smile, you poke at your son’s chubby cheek, earning a soft giggle from his precious lips. “you’ll help mama clean up, won’t you?” he merrily claps his hand in response. “see? that’s our boy.”

“it seems like we have a gentleman in our midst,” neuvillette comments, soft delight evident in his eyes. “take care of mama for me, alright?”

and it’s majestic: the scene before you. neuvillette has struggled a long time to morph emotions that can suffice his heart’s content. looking at him now standing against the sun, its rays forming a halo around his and your son’s bodies while the latter sizes up his tiny hand with his father’s huge one, sudden warmth caresses your chest.

you clasp both their hands tightly with your own, tip-toeing to bestow neuvillette an airy kiss on the lips. “take care, my love,” you murmur.

the unforeseen affection blows open neuvillette’s eyes, casting a hue of glowing red on his cheeks. you’ve been married for years already, and yet his world keep tilting upside down whenever your lips collide. as though the eruption of his world seems not to bother him, he leans in for another kiss— fervid with passion this time.

neuvillette brushes your forehead with his lips as a final seal to the magic you shared. you close your eyes, drinking in his scent, before responsibilities stow him away and buries him neckdeep in work.

“come on, darling.” the little boy lifts his arms reluctantly to you. under his curling brows, on the verge of tears, are twinkling eyes glued to his father.

the father takes his little chin, leaving the little one with a promise of returning home as soon as work permits. then, neuvillette tramps towards the door, only to see three melusines carrying their baskets, smiling from ear to ear.

“father!” they call in unison. sundry of greetings soon followed; each of them eager to wish neuvillette an agreeable and smooth journey ahead. “mother!” they beam, canting their heads to peek at you from the doorstep. it’s mamere, puca, and canotila.

neuvillette steps aside to let the children inside the house. they dash for the boy, faces gleaming with joy at beholding their sibling’s little frame.

“will you stay with mother while i’m gone?” neuvillette inquires, crouching to meet the melusines’ level.

three heads nod at once. neuvillette opens his arms, then, to embrace the three melusines. they murmur their goodbyes and promises that you and the baby will be alright. albeit flooded with the need to stay, which is exceedingly evident on neuvillette’s face, he departs for the court of fontaine. and thus, your day with the children begin.

“who wants to help mother bake?”

all three jump on their toes; puca and canotila have followed you to the kitchen, while mamere occupies herself by playing with your son.

not a day goes by that your house wouldn’t be flooded by the melusines. they contribute a great degree in making the air much vibrant with all their jovial disposition.

it’s a life you’ve been well-acquainted with ever since sealing the vow with neuvillette. the melusines are a part of you as much as their father is.

—

people used to name neuvillette as an immovable pillar; before the heaps of paper on his desk, he’s a man of patience and perseverance. he passes the opportunity of sleep without second thoughts if work demands his extended time in attending matters concerning the region.

however, he has acquired a strict sense of time after his marriage. once the clock finally signals his departure, it matters not whether papers keep piling on his desk, neuvillette will stand up and journey towards home.

he cannot help it; the tightness between his ribs and the ever-growing need to be with his family are too palpable to ignore. and it would seem as though a great part of him is being cut down the longer he’s away from home.

only the image of the house, with lights glowing from the inside, has been a salve to his rather impatient need to be in your arms.

“welcome home—”

he embraces you, then, cleaving the words you wish to speak. he embraces and sniffs at your hair, letting the heat of your body travel to his own, caressing the coldness away.

“i’ve missed you dearly, my love,” he murmurs, a little embarrassed, yet a whole lot fulfilled.

you giggle against his chest, the sound going straight to his heart where it marked yet another reason of why neuvillette loves you more than life itself.

“we’ve missed you, too. come into the house, darling. taste the cake we’ve made.”

“where are the children?” neuvillette asks, noticing the silence prevailing inside. normally, the melusines together with the little boy would be all around the house this time around; laughing and filling the corners with their merriment.

“oh, come! let me show you something.” you tug at your husband’s hand, exuding radiance that almost blinded him. “all of the children are currently in dreamland.”

you open the door to your room. upon the sight which greeted him, all the day’s worries and baggages shred off his skin. there, on the bed, the melusines are sleeping soundly. they’re formed in a cirle around his little boy, their chests heaving slowly. everything is peaceful.

“welcome home, my love,” you whisper once more, squeezing his hand and rubbing your cheek against his arm.

voice mixed with a sweet cadence, he answers, “i am home.”

#neuvillette x y/n #neuvillette x you #neuvillette x reader #neuvillette fluff #genshin fluff #genshin x you #genshin x reader #genshin impact fluff #genshin impact x you #genshin impact x reader

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mauvecherie-writes · 2 months

Text

filthy: l.hamilton.

warning: 18+ mdni, extreme sexual content, slight dom!lewis, mating press, dirty talk, unprotected p in v.

notes: this gif set sent me and @hopefulromantic1 down a sinful path. our dark thoughts collided. Also I didn’t watch the episode lmao - a small section of this - paragraph 3 - is purely based on the gifs I’ve seen 😂. either way ennjjooyy 😘🤭.

I’m thinking about how you can’t get over just how buff Lewis got over the winter break. You love the way he just fills his t-shirts more, the way his thighs stretch the fabric of his pants - just how every inch of him seems to be bulging.

Just watching him do mundane things has you all hot and bothered. Like you’re in the living room watching his episode of DTS and you’re squirming in your seat as if he’s not somewhere in the house.

It’s the weirdest thing that sets you off. He’s by the track in his white tee, talking to the kids from Mission44 and he moves to clap his hands before swinging his arms. holy fuck. you’re creaming for your man.

You move so quickly off the sofa, you startle your sleepy boy Roscoe. You throw an apology to him before running to the security system and search the camera footage to see where he is.

He’s outside, fixing up the trampoline for the kids. You run to the backyard and for a moment you stop and just watch him. His arms flexing as he tightens the bolts on the legs.

When you catch his eye, he smiles at you. So bright and wide, his eyes crinkle in the corners and your heart beats faster causing you to blush.

“What’s up baby?” He asks you as he stands to his full height.

You don’t answer and in that moment Lewis sees the glint in your eye and he immediately knows where your heart is at. It makes him smirk.

“I have a problem.” You say as you tip-toe toward him.

“Tell me love.” He says, wiping his hands before taking your hand pulling you closer before he settles his large palms on your waist as yours wrap around his neck and you play with the strands at the back of his head.

“I see you on the show and you’re all buff and shit, muscles spilling out of your shirt and then I see you out here doing work.”

“Did that turn you on baby?” He licks his lips as he trails his hands down to your ass and cups your cheeks.

“Yeah.” You let out a breathless sigh as he massages your flesh.

“How do you want me to fix it sweetheart?”

You give an all knowing smile and next thing you know, he’s picking you up in his arms and running back into the house. You don’t even go all the way to the master bedroom.

He bulldozes his way into the guest bedroom downstairs and chucks you onto the bed like you weigh nothing before pulling at your clothes and barely stepping out of his before he’s back in between your legs.

“You’re so fucking wet. Did I really do that to you sweet girl?” He smiles as he stretches his knees apart - pushing yours further apart too.

“Yes!” You gasp as you arch forward trying to press your cunt against this dick. “I’m also ovulating so that could be it too.” You confess.

Lewis grunts at your words as he presses into you. Once your eyes roll, he doesn’t hold back. He’s fucking you so good that you’re screaming and trying to run away from him. He’s deep in your guts as you struggle for words.

His shoulders and chest are folding you and pressing into you as you struggle for air.

“It’s t- too much baby.” You hiccup as his skin slaps against the back of thighs. His mark was all over your body despite the way that he has you folded. The contact bites at your skin from the ferocity of his thrusts.

He’s fucking you into the bed and crushing you until you’re gasping for air and he laughs at you - mocking you for how much you said you could take him but you’re clearly having trouble doing so.

You keep trying to run away.

You try to beg but he’s not having it, the laughter is gone from his voice - he’s serious again. Your legs are back on his shoulders and he’s got you in a mating press as he fucks you harder and harder into the bed.

“Where the fuck do you think you’re going huh?” He hisses in your ear as he thrusts until you. “I’m fixing your problem aren’t I? This is what you wanted. Why you running?” He taunts you.

You cry louder as tears trail down your cheeks and settle into the crooks of your neck.

“This is what you wanted. Fucking take it!” He growls. “Take this fucking dick, it’s yours.”

ru’s letters 💌: I’m ending it here. Let your imagination run 😝😌

tags: @queenshikongo3 @dhlfastestlap @lewisinlace @emjayewrites @saintslewis @serpenttines-library @hopefulromantic1 @cocobutterqwueen @bluesole16 @chaneajoyyy @melodichaeuxx-lacritquexx @felicity-x0 @lewisroscoelove @lh44adore @hellomadamebutterfly @scorpiobleue @qveenmelanink @tremendousstarlighttragedy

#mauvecherie writes #lewis hamilton x black reader #lewis hamilton fanfiction #lewis hamilton smut #lewis hamilton fic #lewis hamilton imagine #lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton blurb #lewis hamilton one shot #lh #sir lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton

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greycaelum · 4 months

Text

Kaleidoscope Series—Clouds and Mochi Chapters: { Welcoming }

—Gojo Satoru X Wife Reader

𑁍 Genre: pregnancy journey, parenthood

𑁍 WC/CW/TW: (4.4k)—/suggestive hints, pregnant reader, labor, fluff, domesticity, subtle talks of clan matters, dad satoru, set on winter—/

𑁍 A/N: this took a while because—my holiday turned to a rollercoaster of events and gatherings, anyways happy 2024~ everyone! let me take you to the first chapter of this year~ ☕︎✍︎,

WEEK 10: Kumquat

"Oh... you bought a kumquat? Did you go to the grocery, Love?"

Satoru looked up from the net of kumquat he bought and shuffled towards you, leaning down excitedly to litter butterfly kisses on your tummy.

"How are you, my babies? Did you miss Dada? Bet you missed me more though?" Satoru stood up and grinned at you. "You're 10 weeks, Honey, our babies here are as big as kumquats!"

You can't burst his bubble when he is sparkling in excitement as he leans back down and kisses your belly over and over and over until you get annoyed by the smooching sounds and pull him up. Satoru pulls you up to still on the kitchen stall while he peels some kumquat for you. He pushes a bowl with three peeled kumquats.

"Two kumquats for my sunshines and one for my pretty wifey, hehe, imagine, they're so tiny like this... and and... they're all curled up and..." He started mumbling as he giggled tracing patterns over your still small belly while you ate a piece of the kumquat.

"Don't start Satoru." You can't help but reign him down before he starts something.

"Try me." He giggled and kissed you, sneaking a lick to taste the kumquat zest on your lips.

WEEK 12: Lime

"Mama! Mama! We bought you a green orange!" Saika ran towards you as you joined in their stroll after Satoru told you they were in the shopping district just near the meeting you had. She collided with your leg and grinned up to you.

"A green orange? You mean a lime, sweetie?" You took the net with three limes inside. Bending down to kiss her is starting to be taxing with your growing belly that's a bit bigger than normal since you're having two of them inside.

"Papa said sunshines are as big as limes. When are they gonna get big enough so we can play with them, Mama?" Kouki held your hand as Satoru subtly kissed your forehead before taking your bag.

"We're gonna wait until winter, maybe by then our lil' sunshines here will be ready by then."

"Winter?! That's too long!" Saika bemoaned making you and Satoru laugh.

"Believe me, sweetie, it'll fly by."

WEEK 14: Peach

"Look what I haveeeee~" You didn't have to turn around as your feet were swept off the ground.

"Hey! 'Toru?! Put me down!"

Satoru giggled and pushed you up the counter standing between your legs to kiss your belly.

"Our babies here are as big as these peaches~" On his hand, there's a clutch of three peaches. "Lemme peel them first. Bet you missed me the whole day."

"Of course... I did not."

He held his heart and feigned death before chuckling as he peeled the sticky peach.

"How was the clan meeting? I heard they've been a pain in the ass regarding the new education system for the kids in the clan?"

You hummed and held your belly while he opened the fruit, and there were two seeds inside. "Love, keep those seeds and have someone plant them in our villa at the estate."

"Why?" Satoru looks up to you in curiosity.

"Nothing much, it's a good omen." You shrug. "Anyway, the kids in the estate like the idea of it, but you know the elders, I understand that they worry that more and more kids in the Gojo clan would prefer to work in civilian jobs rather than the jujutsu society. I'm still gauging on what extent this will benefit the clan but mostly it'll end up compromising some of the kids with higher potential with their curse energy."

Satoru placed the bowl with three slices of peaches in it.

"I'll drop by the estate training grounds tomorrow, have the kids come around for a light spar." He hums as you bite in the sweet fruit.

"What for?"

"They gotta be strong enough to defend themselves before leaving the nest." He shrugs making you raise a brow. "I'll bring Kou and Sai along, gotta learn whatever they can learn." He chuckles as he hears the kids running down the stairs.

WEEK 16: Avocado

"Honey?! Why didn't you tell me you're coming over? I could've sent someone to pick you up from the foot of the mountain." Satoru shuffled from his seat and rushed to the door where you were standing with a bento box at hand. "You smell so creamy." He buried his nose in the space of your neck taking a good amount of inhale before letting go and looking at you up and down.

"You can't keep me in bed all day besides walking is good for pregnant women." You scrunched your nose at how stuffy his office is. "I brought you lunch too, it's been quite a long time since I dropped by to bring you lunch."

Satoru excitedly opens the bento box you got.

"Oh!!! You made me a tako wiener!" He guffawed at the octopus-shaped sausages you added in the lunch box popping one of them immediately to his mouth and chewing with gusto. "I'm so glad you married me." Behind that blindfold, you could already imagine the puppy eyes he was giving you.

"What the heck?" You chuckled as he started to eat without sitting down.

"Y'know, I bought something for you later, but since you're here, lemme get it for you? Just, sit right here..." He guides you to sit on his super comfy and soft swivel chair while he grabs something from his small fridge hidden from plain sight by a sliding door. "I saw this in the convenience store earlier and thought about you."

He places three rows of sliced avocados in front of you with a small bowl of tuna flakes. Satoru sat on the table facing you—sitting on his chair.

"Just eat as much as you can, I'll eat the rest if you can't finish it."

"And you keep telling me to stay still? If you keep feeding me and not let me work, I'll be a whale." You pouted as you savored the avocado and a bite of the tuna flakes.

"No, you won't be, I'll have you exercise in the bedroom under my supervision." He winks making you kick his shin and he lets out a laugh. "Just kidding, don't be pouty my pretty Mrs. Gojo, okay?"

WEEK 18: Capsicum

"Before you judge me, I have my reason." Satoru took off his apron and sighed.

"Put that apron back on." You sighed, it's one of his tactics in distracting you... wearing nothing on top but just his apron and cotton pants, barefoot in the kitchen with his bedroom hair.

Hormones... You fanned yourself and looked away from the sight of his hard abs and pecs.

"No, and okay, I'll explain." He chuckles, leaning closer to give you a man's eye view of his pecs and abs ridge, stirring your attention on his body rather than the plate before you. "I wasn't sure what to do with the bell pepper, okay? I didn't know if you want to eat spicy food while pregnant so don't judge me if I made it a garnish instead."

"Love..." You bit your lips, you weren't angry or even annoyed, it's just that Satoru didn't happen to like your stifled giggle at his artwork. "You massacred the capsicum..."

"It's a flower! Look these are the petals and the spinach is the leaf." Satoru frowned, reasoning with you as he showed you the YouTube video tutorial, he based his work on. "It looks the same to me."

WEEK 20: Banana

"Banana for you, for me, for you, and you, and those two~" Satoru held two bananas and danced towards you while playfully aiming the banana at you, and the two munchkins cuddled beside you.

"Is it banana week now?" You chuckled and reached to kiss him welcome home as he bent down to accept your kiss with a wide grin.

"Well, our sunshines here must be as big as a banana now." Satoru kneels down and kisses your pointy belly. "You want banana shake, Honey?"

He strips off his dark turtleneck uniform leaving him in his white compression shirt, holding three bananas as he walks to the kitchen.

"Mama..." Kouki opens his eyes from sleep, rising from your lap still somehow a bit groggy.

"Hungry, Sweetheart?" You kissed his forehead making the boy beg for more as he clung to your neck.

"Mama..."

"Mnnn?"

"Mama, Mama, Mama..." He mumbled over and over, hugging you tight and burying his face in your neck.

"My Sweetheart needs some lovin'?" Kouki nods and whines. Your 5-month baby bump proves to be hard to hug your little boy closer so you opted to kiss his face all over and rub his back soothingly. "How was your sleep?" Lately, he's been so sleepy that it's worrying sometimes since he used to hate sleeping when his curse energy was all over the place.

"T'was nice... I dreamt of playing with babies all day... we'll sleep in the crib together... and..." Kouki hums. "It's a good dream."

"Really?" You chuckled before letting him go as he saw his Papa holding a tray of banana shakes.

"Papa!"

"My Kikufuku's awake! Gimme a kiss and a hug, fluffball." Satoru sets the tray on the table before sweeping off his son from your arms and throwing him up in the air giving you a small heart attack as he perfectly catches the boy and blows raspberries on Kouki's tummy much to the boy's delight.

You sighed. Boys will be boys. You satisfied yourself in sipping the banana shake while combing through Saika's long hair while she slept peacefully unbothered by the noise of her father and brother. Halfway through you'll also have your little ones in your arms, joining the huddle filled with love.

WEEK 22: Lebanese Cucumber

"I wasn't sure when I got this but I remember we could enjoy this together." Satoru squirmed a bit with his hand clasped over his stomach. "'s coldddd brrrrr!" He shivered.

"Yeah? Well, I'm not complaining." You chuckled as you put the slices of cucumber over his eyes. Beside him, Saika is lying on her father's leg with cucumber slices over her eyes too.

"You like it, Sweetie?"

"Yes, Mama, will I look pretty like you after this?" She asks confidently.

"You'll be pretty like me Cat." Satoru pipes up, blindly patting his daughter's head.

"I don't want Papa, Mama is prettier."

You could see the pout on Satoru's lips as he whines.

"But you have to take care of your eyes because I love that you and Papa have the same eyes."

That easily blew the pouting between your cats.

"Kouki don't eat that!"

No wonder your son was so silent he was already eating the bowl of cucumber slices behind the bed and ran away when you saw him taking the bowl with him as he laughed.

WEEK 24: Ear of Corn

"Grilled."

"Stir-fried."

"Grilled!"

"Kikufuku, it's better to grill corn."

"No, Papa, we need stir fry."

"Mama!"

"Baby!"

They chorused and looked at you.

"Me?" You look up from the corn pudding Satoru's mother sent over. You wiped your mouth and cleared your throat.

"Mama, I want stir-fried corn." Kouki immediately ran to you and hugged your leg, blinking up to you with his puppy eyes.

"Honey, grilled corn is better, I promise you." Satoru took off his blindfold and also flashed you his puppy eyes."

"Why don't you just make both? Grilled and the other stir fry?" You hummed.

"No way... I'm tired." Satoru pouted.

"Mama... I want stir fry, pleaseeeeeeeeee."

Really... you gotta do what the light of the house does.

"Let's have some corn soup. So, no one fights."

WEEK 26: Green Onion

"How are you feeling?" Satoru opens the door with a tray in his hand.

Your body feels so heavy and your nose is clogged up, to put it simply you're feeling under the weather.

"Must be from working in the backyard all afternoon." Satoru sets the tray beside you and helps you up to sit. "The kids are asleep, I need to go out for a bit for work, I'll be back by 9 o'clock." He gets the thermometer to check your temperature.

"38.2... should I change your fever patch?"

"No..." You shook your head and opened your mouth for the egg drop porridge he made with lots of green onions on top.

"Should we... go to the doctor? Or I can make the doctor come here." Satoru blows on the spoon before feeding it to you. He looks tame and gentle with how he cares for you.

"It's fine... it'll go down by tomorrow." Hopefully... your pregnancy with Kouki and Saika was fairly smooth, even though Saika was a bit harder without Satoru and that incident with the Tachibana Clan, still... those pregnancies were still easy compared to now.

You feel twice the effect at the same time, so much heavier that even walking for 10 minutes is physically taxing already. There are nights when you are simply restless, unable to sleep with the heat pooling in your body despite the full-blast aircon.

You tried to reach for your phone on the bedside when something constricted.

"Ouch!" Your leg stiffened as you tried to flex your feet.

"Lemme..." Satoru quickly put down the bowl and held your cramping feet, easing the muscles.

"Gently..." You hissed at the crawling tightness in your muscles as you gasped for air.

"There, there... still hurts?" Satoru looks up to you as he gently massages the muscles to loosen up.

"A bit..." a sigh left you as your cramps gradually subsided.

"Hey, Honey..." Satoru took you in his arms and rubbed your back. "It's okay, you're good. It's going to be alright."

You listened to the way he breathes, following Satoru's calm breathing as you also calm down.

"Will you come back soon?"

"Baby, I'll be back by 9 or even before 9," Satoru assures you, pressing kisses to your head. "Want me to bring you some fried chicken from that new kaarage place you mentioned last time?

You shook your head and stared at the bowl of egg rice porridge, and the glass with tall green onions inside.

"What's that for?" You pointed to the green onion.

"I asked Mom—your Mom—what to do with cold and she said to wrap a green onion around your neck, but I can't do that to you." Satoru grimaced at the thought. "So I put it in a glass and put it in your bedside so you can sleep better instead. Hopefully, it works."

"Did you really have to call Mom?" You can't help but find it amusing.

"Of course, who else am I supposed to call?" He grumbles and feeds you another spoonful.

"Funny because remember that one time you got a really bad case of diarrhea?"

Satoru gave you a dry look at bringing that event again.

"What about it? It's not funny, that expired bread was so good even though it was already bad."

"That time I also called your mother what to do about you."

WEEK 28: Eggplant

"Mama, did you know that if Papa dyes his hair green he will look like an eggplant?"

You let out a strangled choke to keep the orange juice you are drinking from spurting out your mouth. Your daughter has another strange observation once again. You're sitting on the couch watching some horror movie together.

"Don't say that to your Papa, he will sulk." You hum as you eat the doughnuts.

"But he always wears his weird long uniform, he should wear our new shark onesies," Saika pouts.

"I think Papa looks very handsome in his uniform though." Makes it a bit easier to hide his body from any possible homewreckers. But you didn't say the last part.

"Papa! Mama said you look handsome!" Saika giggled and ran behind the kitchen wall where Satoru was grinning ear to ear his arms were on his back as Saika clung to her Papa's leg, giggling.

"You little snitch." You chuckled as Saika ran to hug you back on the couch and Satoru got on one knee before you and cleared his throat. He brought his hand forward and offered you a basket filled with eggplants.

"Will you have my eggplant?"

"What the heck?" You laughed and took the basket from him.

"So your answer?" He grins and caged you between his arms on the couch. Saika giggled and ran upstairs talking to her brother about having some stir-fried eggplant for dinner.

"You're so obscene." You chuckled at the three big eggplants in the basket. "It's a yes, isn't it obvious?" You cradled your heavy belly.

"Right..." Satoru laughed and kissed you. "Got you pregnant with my eggplant eh?"

You end up taping his mouth as you cook some fried eggplants for dinner.

WEEK 30: Cabbage

"You're buying too much."

You watch him keep adding to cart maternity dresses to the cart. It's the kind of dresses that cost above than what you would spend on clothes. You don't have to say much knowing how much he spends on his T-shirt which you don't complain much, Satoru spends a lot but he makes a lot besides the bank account used for the spending in the home is enough to maintain everything.

"But you will look cute in these dresses." Satoru hums his hand resting on your hips while the other scrolled through the iPad on his knee.

"You know that I won't get to wear that much anyway because I'm due in two or three months. Besides, my gifts from friends and family were more than enough." You lay your head on his shoulder, watching him scroll for a new baby clothes set.

"It's okay, we can always have them fixed so you can wear them after. But for now, as much as possible you can have as many dresses as you can choose from." Satoru kissed your forehead and added.

The doorbell rang and Kouki ran to get it followed by Satoru. When they went back they holding a grocery bag.

"For our sunshines and Mommy!" Satoru walks inside and Kouki runs to give you the long bag.

"What's this?" You chuckled seeing three big cabbages inside of the bag.

"We're having okonomiyaki tonight, like it?"

"Okonomiyaki? With cabbage?"

"Yes, just wait here, I'll make dinner."

You didn't complain as you watched him make his way through the kitchen, wearing an apron as he skilfully chopped through the ingredients he was going to use, soon Kouki came over to help with well, sneaking some bites of the carrots and shredded cabbage.

"We don't have a teppan." You sighed as you stood up, holding your heavy belly as you walked to them, kissing Kouki's head as you stood beside him.

"I'll use the regular pan." Satoru hums and finishes making the batter of the pancake.

"I can't wait for my baby sister and brother, Mama. Do you think they will like the squishmallow I bought?" Kouki kissed your belly and rubbed it gently.

"They will love it." You assured him.

Satoru gave you the first sample of his pancake which you took a bite and gave a thumbs up.

"It's very yummy, Honey."

"I promise I will be a good brother to you too sunshine..." Kouki rested his chin on your belly and grinned at you.

WEEK 32: Small Pumpkin

"I can't believe I'm currently having two babies this big inside."

You marveled at the small pumpkins Satoru gave you.

"How are they? Did they kick you or anything?" Satoru rubbed your belly and kissed you before bringing the three pumpkins he brought to the kitchen and went to the common bathroom to change.

"Not really, they were very good." You caressed your bump and smiled. "What are we gonna do with those pumpkins?"

"C'mere, Baby." Satoru pulled down his shirt and opened his arms for you. "Anything you want to do with it?"

"Mnn, not really." You inhaled his scent and gave him a thumbs up. He smells nice.

"Y'know my students are asking why I smell like the dishwashing liquid. And I have to explain that we don't have detergent liquid because I don't want them to know you don't like my smell."

You laughed, rubbing your face in his chest inhaled his scent, and put your hand on his waist making him squeal in tickles.

"Don't start." He bit your ears in exchange and hugged you tight before you could escape. "My mother sent a pumpkin pie for you, she said you called last time about wanting some pumpkin pie."

"She did?" You chuckled and looked at the side looking for the box of pie.

"Yeah, don't worry I tasted it and there's nothing in it just... pumpkin."

"What the heck?" You laughed. "Of course, there's pumpkin, last time Mother also made a coconut pie for me, it was delicious."

"Mama! Mama! It's so yummy!" Saika came running from the kitchen with some crumbs on her lips with her brother trailing behind holding a plate of the pie slice.

"You want one Ma?" Kouki offered you the slice.

You accepted the slice and ruffled your son's head for thanks.

WEEK 34: Cantaloupe Melon

"That's big..." You stared in awe at the cantaloupe he just brought home.

"Want a shake, Baby?" Satoru hums.

"Yes please, it's so hot here."

Satoru looked at the aircon already in full swing.

"Mnn..." Satoru pulled the blender out and started prepping the ice and cream. "Baby, I've been thinking... You're now close to your due date and we should probably stay in the Gojo Estate for now."

You look up to him.

"Or maybe in the hospital itself," Satoru added.

"I'm fine, Love..." You sighed. "There could be someone more in need of the room I will be staying in the hospital and besides, I feel more comfortable in our home."

"But, Baby... this is not your usual pregnancy... I can't sit still at work worrying about you..." Satoru stopped making shake and walked over to you, holding your hand as he brought it to his lips. "Please? If you don't want the hospital, then the house in the villa... It's near the main house where the machines needed for childbirth are ready.

"But I wanna stay here, I even starting a little cuddle nest here." Sure you did and it was in the kids' nursery room. You pouted and looked up to Satoru.

"I'll stay in the hospital three days before my due date or maybe in the villa, okay? If ever I feel something is off I will go there as soon as possible but not for now. Okay?"

Satoru sighed and nodded, accepting the peck you gave him.

"Okay... Still want that melon shake?"

"Yes!"

WEEK 36: Romaine Lettuce

"We're having yakiniku tonight!" Satoru held three bunches of romaine lettuce as he barged in the door only to find you on the couch with the two kids by your side holding two bags... the unmistaken baby bags he packed himself.

"Oh, what's this?" Satoru put the grocery bag on the table and looked at the three of you. "What happened, Baby?"

"We're having the babies I think~"

Satoru gasped and the two munchkins giggled.

"Then why are we still here?! Wait, where do you want to go? Hospital? Villa?" Satoru stood up.

He grabbed the bags and kneeled to put on your shoes.

"I don't think I'm going to give birth yet, besides my water didn't break yet." You held the hem of his shirt. "I will go to the hospital..."

You know more than anyone that this pregnancy and childbirth will be different from the previous one you had. You don't want to ever take the risk despite knowing Satoru will never hesitate to ensure all your needs are met, and yet it is better to be in the hospital since this is an uncanny situation you have...

"We're going now, kids you'll have to stay with your grandparents." Satoru barely listened as he called someone and soon enough the car rolled up to get you both.

"Satoru, breathe Love." You chuckle when you feel he's barely breathing as he holds you.

"I am. What do you think I'm doing?" He huffs. Sweat beads were forming on his temples

"I dunno, you're not breathing when you're holding me." It's one of the few times he's genuinely panicked for a bit.

"Right, doesn't matter, let's go." He huffs and closes the door.

"What's gonna happen to the romaine lettuce?" You raise a brow.

"I dunno! All I know is that's supposed to be the size of our baby coming out of you."

WEEK 38: Mini Watermelon

"Love, I want a watermelon."

"Baby, you're in labor." Satoru stood up from the couch offered by the hospital and went to your bedside. He took your hand in his. "I could go ask the doctor if it's okay..."

"We've been here since last week's Friday and it's Thursday now... I deserve to eat before my active labor starts Satoru."

You didn't have to tell him twice with how your eyes narrowed. He swallowed before nodding.

"I'll ask someone to buy—"

"No, I want you to buy it."

"Baby!"

"Sa.To.Ru."

"Fine..." His imaginary tail fell down and his shoulders slackened. "What if you give birth and I won't be there?"

"Do I look like I'm giving birth in the following hour?" You pointed to your belly as he helped you sit on the bed. "I feel like I could do cartwheels and the babies would still be sleeping in my womb. Besides, the watermelons are just in the cafeteria, just 10 or 20 minutes and you'll be back here."

Satoru looked at you doubtfully but followed your cravings.

"I'll be back, sit tight, okay?" He walks to the door, like a kicked pup. "You call me okay? Or the nurse."

"I know, I know, go already." You waved to shoo him out. When he's out you finally stand up, somehow walking around the private room for a bit to move your muscles. Kouki and Saika have been very excited to meet their sibling, especially Kouki who kind of remembers that you also had to stay in the hospital for some time before you gave birth to Saika.

Your OB doctor decided not to induce you at 36 weeks since your other baby who is still developing might be affected, instead, you all decided to wait it out since you are still in your prodromal labor. At this rate, you might even give birth at full term to both of them... It's 4 in the afternoon already.

You reach for your water jug on the table. It's a bit heavy. You drank a bit. Some spilled down... and some more... and more...

You looked down at your legs and the puddle of trickling water on the floor.

"Satoru!"

—GreyCaelum

PLAGIARISM IS A CRIME

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All rights and credits of the Jujutsu Kaisen character(s) mentioned images(s) and songs(s) used, belongs to their respective owner(s)

General/Kaleidoscope Series Taglist: @ice-icebaby @aeanya @gummy-dummy @tender-rosiey @lexiene @nevermoresworld @loml-riri @pelicanpizza @emichou-chan @patat-gurl

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crinkle-eyed-boo · 1 year

Note

Hey! I just wanted to let you know I'm like half way through Let Our Hearts Collide and I am CACKLING out loud. The dialog at the family gatherings is SO GOOD omg it must have been so fun to write. There is so much i love about this story. As with all your fics I am torn between wanting to savour it slowly and also lock myself in the bathroom and read it all in one go. 💘

Awwww, thank you!! I’m so glad you enjoyed it. For the big dinner scene I literally had to draw a diagram of where everyone was sitting so I could keep track of where each line was coming from. It was really fun taking the screenplay and changing the pop culture references to something that would fit my characters. I hope you enjoy the rest!! ❤️

#let our hearts collide #nice things

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westwiing13 · 4 months

Text

caught

matt sturniolo x reader (female)

warning: this story contains smut and rough sex

hi everyone! this is my first story and i’m proud of it tbh, but i also apologize if you think it’s bad or… if i did something wrong. lmao idk, enjoy 🫶 oh also, sorry that it’s SO long 😭 i like a good build up.

It was a Friday night, 7PM, and I was hanging out at my boyfriend’s place, Matt. We decided to do a casual date night. That was something I loved about our relationship. We didn’t care for fancy dinner dates. Eating fast food at home, in the car or grabbing a quick meal at a restaurant was enough for us.

We are both sitting at the black kitchen table eating Mc Donald’s.

I pick up a french fry and before I put it in my mouth I ask, “So, we have the place to ourselves the entire night?”

“Yep.”, Matt says then grabbing his root beer soda and taking a sip. “Chris and Nick went to a party and won’t be home til later.”

I chew the french fry and swallow it. “You didn’t want to go?”, I ask.

“Nah. I’d rather spend my night with my girlfriend.” Matt places his right hand on top of my left and gives it a gentle squeeze.

A few moments have passed and we were both done eating our dinner. Matt takes our empty cups, french fry containers, wrappers from our burgers and toss it in the trash can.

I enter into Matt’s room with my right hand in his left. I lead him to the bed where I guide him to sit down and I sit in his lap with my legs wrapped around him. I wrap my arms around his neck, feeling the cold chain of his necklace against my bare arms. Matt places his arms on my lower back holding me. We look into each other’s eyes for a few moments taking each other in. Matt smiles at me and gives a little chuckle.

“What, babe?”, I ask while gently running my fingers through his brown hair.

Matt says, “Oh nothing. I’m just thinking to myself how did I get so lucky to have you?”

I blush and smile not knowing what to say because he still manages to give me butterflies and leave me speechless.

All I could say is “I love you.” I place my right hand on his chiseled jawline feeling his rough stubble underneath my hand, and trace his lower lip with my thumb. Matt says I love you back and moves his hands lower and gently squeezes my ass. I lean in placing my lips onto his. I slide my tongue into his mouth. Our tongues collide dance all around swapping saliva. I feel Matt getting hard underneath me. I slowly grind against his hard length. Matt lets out a deep moan. I feel his warm breath against my lips. Matt brings his lips back to mine and we continue to make out. I pull away from our kiss and teasingly bite on his lip. To finish it off I give him a quick peck.

I yawn feeling tired. I unhook my legs from Matt’s waist and get off of him. Matt says, “Hey! What are you doing? You can’t tease me like that.”

I giggle. “I’m going to take a quick nap if that’s okay.” I say while I move the decorative log pillows aside and untuck the sheets to get into Matt’s bed.

“It’s only okay if we get to continue this later.” he says while giving me a sexy smirk and a wink. I shake my head agreeing to his words. I climb into bed and get comfy.

Matt stands up from the foot of the bed, walks over to to me and leans over to give me a gentle kiss on my head. “I’m going to hang out in the living room so I can let you sleep, baby.” I let out a soft mhmm. Matt turns off the lights and shuts the door as he leaves the room.

I wake up in the comfort of Matt’s bed. I grab my phone to check the time. 9:30PM. I place my phone back down on the side table and close my eyes again. A few minutes went by when I suddenly hear, “God, Nick, you fucking suck at this game! You made us lose again! We haven’t won a single game tonight.” I jolted up and saw Matt sitting at his computer playing Fortnite.

“Geez, babe! You almost gave me a heart attack!” He didn’t seem to hear me so I grab one of the log pillows and threw it at him. “Hey!”, he says to me. He turns around and says, “Oh you’re up, baby. Did I wake you?”

“Sorta!”

“I’m sorry.” Matt puts down the PS4 controller and says into the microphone, “Hold on you guys, Y/N woke up. Be back soon.” I could hear Chris and Nick through the headset both saying alright.

Matt walks over to me and sits on the bed. “How was your nap?” he asks moving a piece of hair out of my face and tucking it behind my ear.

“I needed it.” I grab his hand that is near my ear and bring it down onto the bed. “Is that Nick and Chris you’re talking to? I thought they weren’t going to be home til later.” I slowly move my thumb side to side across his hand.

“Yeah, they decided to leave the party early.”

“Don’t they know that we’re doing a date night?”

“Yes. I tried to convince them to stay longer but they wouldn’t. Assholes.” Matt rolls his eyes and lets out a heavy sigh.

“Hey, Matt, it’s okay.“ I lean in and give him a peck on the lips. “I’m ready to continue where we left off now that I am well rested.” I say in a flirtatious tone. I can see Matt instantly get hard underneath his Nike grey sweatpants just from my words. I love knowing that I have that kind of control over him. “But Chris and Nick are here. And you and I both know you scream my name when I am absolutely destroying your sweet pussy.”, Matt says softly with a smirk and licks his lips. I lean forward and whisper into his ear, “Well, I’ll just have to learn to be quiet and if I can’t… well… that’s Nick’s and Chris’ problem. They knew we were having a date night.” I bring my hand to Matt’s throbbing dick, I glide my hand across it and he squirms under my touch. I continue to whisper in his ear, “Look at you. Already going crazy from my touch. You tell those boys that you are done with gaming for tonight.” Matt gets up from the bed, walks over to his desk and puts back on his headset and says into the microphone, “Hey, you guys, I am done with Fortnite for the evening.”

“Oh we knew the moment we heard Y/N say, ‘I’m ready to continue where we left off now that I am well rested’ .”, Chris says laughing. “Shut up, bro!” Matt raises his voice. Chris continues to laugh and says, “Forgot to mute your mic, bro.”

“Okay, this got weird fast.” Nick says.

“Goodnight.” Matt says with a serious tone. Matt takes off his headset, logs off of Fortnite and turns off his PS4.

I stretch my arms out in front and wiggle my fingers telling Matt I want to be snuggled up in his arms. Matt walks over to me places his arms around me and rests his head on top of mine. I breathe in his addictive scent of cedarwood and hints of citrus.

“I love it when you get mad, babe.” , I say with a laugh. “It’s both cute and hot.”

“Yeah?” he asks.

I nod. “I love big bad boy Bernard.”, I tease. Matt just rolls his eyes not even knowing what to say to that. Matt lifts his head off of mine, takes his hand puts it under my chin and tilts my head up. He stares into my eyes and puts his lips on mine. He slides his tongue into my mouth and our tongues are once again dancing.

I reach for the drawstring on his sweatpants and untie them while we are still exchanging a wet kiss. I tug on the waistband of both the sweatpants and his underwear. I break the kiss and say, “Take these off.” Matt stands up and removes his grey sweatpants first and I immediately become wet at the sight of Matt’s bulge compressed in his red underwear. He then removes his underwear and his dick springs out fully erected. I get off the bed and kneel in front of him.

“God you are so beautiful staring up at me like that. Put those pretty pink lips to good use, yeah?”, he says.

I first tease him by delicately moving my fingers along his shaft and then I gently lick the tip swirling my tongue around it.

“Please stop teasing me, Y/N.”, Matt begs. He bunches my hair into a messy bun and without warning he bucks his hips and all the sudden I feel his dick at the back of my throat. I place my hands onto his thighs for support. He then starts to thrust in out of my mouth at a steady pace.

“Your pretty mouth feels so fucking good around me.”, he says.

I unclip my black bra and remove it from underneath my shirt. I then lift my shirt up exposing my tits. My nipples go hard from the cold hair. I place both of my index fingers and thumbs to massage my hardened nipples for added pleasure. I begin to moan.

“Fuck, baby, with you moaning like that. I’m not going to be able to last much longer.” he says. He begins to speed up his pace forcing me to have to put my hands back on his thighs for support.

“I’m so close, Y/N.” Matt says with heavy breaths. He removes his dick from my mouth and begins to stroke his dick at a fast pace. Shots of his hot cum lands on my tits. “Fuuuuuck.” Matt says in a deep moan.

I stare up into his beautiful blue eyes and move all of the saliva that formed from the blowjob to my lips and Matt leans down and kisses me as we share the wet sloppy mess.

“You are such a dirty girl for me, huh?”, he says. I glide my fingers across my tits collecting his cum and licking it all up.

Matt takes my hand and helps me up.

“Now it’s my turn to make my princess feel good.”, he says.

He removes my shirt fully exposing my top half. He leans down and takes one nipple into his mouth. His warm tongue gliding across my nipple causing me to moan. I place my hands on his head and move my fingers through his soft messy brown hair. Matt stops for a second to help me lay back on the bed with him on top. He starts planting kisses on my neck and makes his way back down to my tits. He takes in the opposite nipple and swirls his tongue around it. He then makes his way further down while his hands massage my tits. Once he gets to my jeans he moves his hands down to unbutton and unzip them. He removes my jeans leaving me only in my black thong. He also removes his black tank top over his head.

Seeing Matt completely naked with only his horse chain/necklace on makes me feel a warmth down in my core.

Matt stands at the foot of the bed and I feel his blue eyes scanning over my body taking in the sight of me.

“Come on, Matt. My pussy is aching for you.”, I say as I begin to touch myself. I can feel the black fabric becoming wet.

Matt leans over and wraps his arms around my legs bringing me closer to the edge of the bed so he has easier access to my pussy. I can feel his hot breath against my flesh. I stop touching myself and let him take over.

Matt firstly moves my thong to the side with his teeth and then starts licking away at my clit. The intense pleasure caught me off guard and I yell, “MATT!” I immediately place my hand over my mouth knowing that Chris and Nick could’ve possibly heard. Matt says against my pussy, “Shhhh… Don’t want my brothers to know that I am eating the shit out of you right now.” He goes back to licking every crevice of my wet aching pussy. The clit, the folds and even inside. “Fuck, Matt. Don’t stop, please.”, I say with heavy breaths. I place my legs over his shoulders and place a hand in his hair grabbing it. Letting him know to not stop and that I am close. I begin to squirm under him and let out deep heavy moans. I feel his tongue going in and out of me at a rapid speed. God he knew how to use that tongue of his. He then goes back over my clit and that’s when I lose it. I feel a pleasuring sensation come over me as I reach my climax. My legs shake uncontrollably and I can’t help but yell his name.

A few seconds later I say, “Holy shit, babe. I think… that was… your best job yet.”, I say trying to catch my breath. Matt then licks me all over and tells me how good I taste.

He comes up, leans forward, and wraps his hand around my neck, whispering, “I told you to be quiet. Turn around and get on all fours for me.”

I do as he says and put my ass into the air. Matt removes my thong by ripping it off me in one swift motion. He spanks my ass and I let out a whimper. He grabs his hard length and glides it in between my folds teasing me.

“Babe, plea-“, before I could finish my sentence he thrusts into me super deep with no warning. I let out a gasp. He gives me a moment to adjust to his size before he starts moving slowly in and out of me.

“Goddamn, Y/N, you are so tight.” He gives my ass another slap and continues to move in and out of my wetness. Matt grabs my hair and pulls my head back as he begins to pick up his pace. My eyes begin to roll to the back of my head I can feel the familiar sensation forming in my stomach knowing I am close.

“Matt- I- I’m—“

“Me too, babe.”

His dick twitching inside of me knowing he is close. I reach for my clit and rub it with my fingers in a circular motion.

The door opens and Nick walks in, “Hey, Matt, do you know where—“ Both Matt and I look over and see Nick with terror in his eyes. I try to say something but I am so overwhelmed with pleasure and also close to reaching my climax that I can’t get any words out.

“Hey, bro! Get outta here!”, Matt yells.

Nick exclaims, “Oh shit! Sorry!” He exits so fast closing the door behind him.

Right after the door closes I feel my pussy clenching around his dick while I reached my peak. “Matt! I- I’m cumming! Holy—!”

“Yes, baby, cum for me.”, Matt says out of breath continuing move in and out of me.

Seconds later I feel Matt bucking his hips and his warm cum filling me up. Matt pulls out and collapses next to me.

“Holy fucking shit.”, he says, “that was so hot.”

I turn over and lay next to him. Our hot sweaty bodies touching.

“You should’ve locked the door, silly.”, I say with a giggle.

#matt sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #the sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #chris sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo smut #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo smut #matthew sturniolo smut #matthew sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #fanfic

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elysiansparadise · 2 years

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Astro Observations X

🟫Something that I have notice with acquaintances that have a mutable Venus is that they are attracted or intrigued by people quite quickly, however it is very difficult for them to deepen those feelings, which usually fade rather quickly. Love for them is fascinating and complex at the same time, and it is common to see that some of them want to fall in love and experience love and at the same time that desire collides with themselves and their own ideals. "I want to be in love but at the same time not."

🟫I have noticed that those with Pisces Moons are incredibly magnetic and attractive, people are subconsciously drawn to them and many times the people around them perceive them as irresistible. Neptunian in nature, they can easily become the dream or fascination of anyone, they can also become very popular either for their beauty or some talent they have. People don't know much about them and that makes them even more attractive and interesting, there is something in them that makes you curious that you may not have felt for anyone else. It is worth mentioning that these natives, despite their politeness, stand out for their intelligence and strong intuition, which makes them difficult to impress or to "catch".

🟫Those with a Capricorn Mars have a tendency to suppress their anger and many of them are forced into this by "being professionals". This is because being a Mars ruled by Saturn, the planet of limitations and work, prevents them from expressing that explosive nature that is natural on Mars. This placement of Mars can also cause differences with authority figures such as fathers or bosses.

🟫The planets or houses in which the sign of Aries is (or even if we have planets in degrees of Aries) tell us about the areas of our life in which we put more energy, focus and passion. For example, people with Aries in the 5th house put their energy in their hobbies and care a lot about expressing themselves authentically. Aries in the 7th house puts a lot of effort and focus in their relationships, in making them comfortable and open. Aries in the 10th house puts effort in their image, profession and work, at the same time when it comes to achieving their goals.

🟫Having Mercury well positioned by house (either in the 3rd house or the 6th house) together with a stellium in Water sign (Cancer, Scorpio, Pisces) or house (4th, 8th, 12th) makes a person have a beautiful way of writing. Mercury in any of the two previously mentioned houses stands out for their ease with words and for their way of writing and communicating the idea that crosses their mind with grace and charm, while the Water touch sweetens the verses and gives them an incredible capacity to convey your message almost immediately. They are people who easily reach the hearts of people and know how to provoke millions of emotions with just one piece of writing.

🟫Many people highlight the intensity with which those who have a Scorpio Venus love, have you ever been loved by a Leo Venus? These natives can match or exceed the intensity of Scorpio Venus. These people always have you in their mind and give you a lot of importance in their lives, if someone harms you, they are dead. They are very protective people, they can be somewhat jealous and they are extremely devoted. They seem to have indifferent shades, because the truth is that it is difficult for them to fall in love with someone, but once they fall in love they totally lose their minds, they give everything and you become the most important person in their life. This happens not only because of the intense, passionate and iconic nature of Leo, but also because this Venus is ruled by the Sun, which gives strength to that way of loving, a lot of vitality. Love for these natives is a source of joy and vitamin, they see love as that cure for that bad or heavy day.

🟫Since we mentioned Scorpio Venus, let's talk a little more about them. These natives are often singled out for their "extremist" nature in the eyes of many, when in reality the only thing they ask for is two things, a deep and sincere connection, and of course a lot of loyalty. Of course they like to be shown interest, they like to see that their partner feels a lot for them and that they are lost in them, but they dislike those who are too absorbent, who do not give them their space and who try to control them, because they love to spend some time for themselves. They are fascinated by having a lover who loves them totally, especially those times when they find it difficult to love themselves, because they will love you also in those circumstances, but they also need an independent partner, who shows them that they know how to do and achieve what they want. Independence and emotional depth call their attention, a person who seems not to depend on them, or on anyone.

🟫Many with the Ruler of the 12th in the 9th or vice versa tend to get a lot of benefit from spending time alone, many of them feel as if they are recharging or regenerating in some way, especially if they have been in social situations constantly. Many of them see solitude as a way to grow and introspect, which they usually enjoy. This placement also indicates that the trips that the person undertakes can bring them a lot of inner peace and profound change, especially if the Ruler is well aspected or is Venus or Jupiter. Not to mention this is a placement common in people that travel to foreign lands or that make long distance trips.

🟫Those who have Moon-Venus tense aspects are people who find it difficult to accept affection or who feel that they do not know how to react to it. Many of them may not be very used to being shown a lot of affection, this they could feel especially from their childhood where it is likely that they felt that they were not enough or did not receive much affection, especially from their mother or female figures. Another scenario that is possible for them is that many demands or standards were placed on them from a very young age, that people asked them more and more of themselves.

🟫Mars in the 3rd house is more than the stereotypes of a person who yells a lot. Those with Mars in the 3rd are people who infect you with emotion when they talk about something they are passionate about, they are people who do not hesitate to express their opinions directly and clearly so that people are able to understand them. These people transmit strength and power with the way they speak, they make you feel motivated and enthusiastic about the topics they are passionate about. They are that kind of people incapable of hiding when they like something, because it is simply sublime to see how their face lights up when they hear them talk about how much they enjoy a certain topic.

🟫Neptune in the 12th house is a placement as beautiful as it is complex. It gives the natives an ability to heal and charm others with ease, even without realizing it, as well as being endowed with powerful intuition and hidden talents. However, many of them may have been in a somewhat tense environment that made them prone to being aware of the people around them, often being able to sense the intentions of others. This in some cases leads them to see enemies where there are none or to think that people criticize them behind their backs or they are simply bad. Many times they have a struggle between trusting their intuition or not.

🟫Those with Moon in the 2nd or Venus in the 2nd are great gift givers, as they stand out for being very detailed and attentive to those around them. Have you ever mentioned to them that you like certain chocolates? They will buy them from you. They love to make gifts that are not only useful, but also meaningful, and many of them may enjoy adding letters or notes to them. They may even think ahead about what they are going to give you and may be too excited to see you open and enjoy your gifts.

🟫People with 05°, 07°, 17°, 19°, 29° in the angles are incredibly charismatic people who are easily liked by others. These people are intelligent enough to function in any environment and amaze many not only for their beauty, but also for their authenticity, witticisms and sense of humor, which easily adapts to that of other people. Many of them catch other people's eyes without paying much attention to their own appearance. People will always think that they have a very high self-esteem and that there is nothing and no one that can bring it down, even if the natives know that this is not always the case, because they always set high standards for themselves and are somewhat harsh when they make a mistake.

🟫Many people underestimate the charm of people with Jupiter in the 8th house, these natives throughout their lives will attract the attention of many even if they do not want it. They are people who have a naturally mysterious and magnetic aura, as well as an attractiveness and appeal that freezes and amazes everyone instantly. I have noticed that if Jupiter it's in an earth sign (Taurus, Virgo or Capricorn) this becomes more prominent as time goes on. These natives intimidate and fascinate people because their gaze seems to be able to analyze every corner of their soul, a penetrating and hypnotizing gaze that remains impregnated in your mind for a long time.

🟫Those with Cancer Mars don't necessarily cry when upset [although this is generally attributed to those with Mars in a water sign], these people keep everything you make them feel to teach you a lesson later. As this is a Mars ruled by the Moon, these natives keep verbally hidden what you made them feel, but if you keep picking on them, they will decide to hit you where it hurts you the most, where you are most vulnerable. They are not very direct or violent and some can even be somewhat passive aggressive. Taking into account that they are ruled by the Moon, they will be upset if you make them feel vulnerable or hypersensitive, if you do not value and make fun of their emotions, if you do not respect their needs or if you tell them that they worry to much for stupid matters. Never make them feel that their concerns and issues are less. This fact also applies with them not being able to forgive or forget easily.

#astrology notes #astrology observations #astro notes #astrology #astro observations #natal chart #aries #cancer mars #capricorn mars #leo venus #scorpio venus #jupiter in 8th house #neptune in the 12th #venus in the 2nd house #moon in the 2nd house

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salveticn · 2 years

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;; shipping tags !!

#♡ || your name is like a melody . it warms my heart and never tires me ;; fandaniel / hermes (banairai)#♡ || lay me down safe and sound in your arms . i could stay a thousand years ;; eris (eredeha)#♡ || my shields were down and you crashed right into me ; beautiful sparks collide . nothing matters just you and i ;; alzahar (crystalblut)#♡ || come and let's get lost in each other deeply . drown me altogether until our hearts beat slowly as one ;; fandaniel (surpassinglimits)

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daddyricsdoll · 5 months

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To Love ✭ Lando Norris

Summary: Lando Norris is easy to love, and how lucky I am that he's mine. These are the five moments that made us feel so much more than just love!

Warnings: Unprotected sex, Fingering, Oral (female receiving), Choking, Creampie. And fluff! I know fluff doesn't count as a warning but I just thought you should know.

Word Count: 3.7k

A/N: This is based off of the song To Love by Suki Waterhouse. I did kind of get carried away but I don't regret it. I'm in love with the song, and I'm in love with Lando. And I started writing this nearly 2 weeks ago so yay! I've finally finished! I really hope you enjoy reading this! Lando birthday post? 🤭

I remember his face from that room, the one where we made eye contact for moments, moments that I had only hoped would never end. But then someone walked in and we both never saw each other again. But I remember the feeling of him. When his soft hands covered my eyes and his warm breath tickled my ear. I forced the tips of my lips not to curl as his presence finally enveloped me. The feeling wasn’t familiar but it felt like home, it made my dead heart flutter and breathing ease.

I hadn’t even known his name, or heard his voice, but I let him grab me by the hand and drag me away. I knew it was him, the one I thought I would never lay eyes on again but I remember. I remember him. I remember his lips finally against mine and then trailing against my jawline. Hands sliding down my sides. He lifted the flimsy fabric of my dress and glided his fingers through my folds–encouraging my breathing to get hitched and face too warm to make out words. He didn’t slip inside of me just yet, watching the way I would squirm and flicker my eyelids when he was millimetres away.

I whined when I lost his touch, feeling so empty, more than when I lay alone in bed, in the room not a single other soul had entered. But my eyes healed me when they opened and he was still there standing before me. His fingers hurriedly undoing his pants, lips planting open mouthed kisses around my neck–heightening my pulse and my fervent desire for more than just his touch. The one he had given to so many others before me, but it would change, I was certain I would be the last, and I was sure that he would agree.

One of my legs was pulled up against his firm body, perfectly fitting along his waist. He ran his tip through and along my folds before very leisurely making his way in, inch by inch filling me up. Sucking in deep breaths and tangling my hand into his hair, he finally fit his whole length in.

Hushed curses left his mouth and my stomach curled at his voice, and it was like he knew because he looked up to me and parted his full lips. Mouth emitting an distinguishable noise and he ultimately asked for my name, and without hesitation, I gave it to him while asking for his in return and the interesting timing. “It’s so I know which name I can moan out.” He looked at me directly in the eyes, a little glimmer in his, coating the splashes of blues and greens. I couldn’t help but chuckle before he cut me short with a quicker thrust. He pulled all the way out, glistening with my arousal and then teasingly easing his way back in.

I whined out his name, the one I now know—Lando. He groaned out my name as my walls started clenching around him. He squeezed his eyelids shut- concealing the mesmerising colour of his pupils making me acknowledge the delicacy of his features. His flushed lips pigmented with hues of pinks and reds- slightly parted sucking in sharp breaths.

I was impelled to him and our lips collided again, my hands gliding to his curls and he lowered his head to begin devouring my neck. Not reducing his performance or pace–internally making me do backflips and beg to hold him like this eternally. The tears glimmering in my eyes finally fled as the knot in my stomach ultimately burst. I cried out his name in broken sobs and rough hands, pulling him closer to me, harmonious praise filling his ears. His manly groans and childish whines fused together as he released inside of me with a last string of thrusts. Each one emitting a new sound from me. Simultaneously we both look up at each other, beads of sweat on his tan forehead, reddened cheeks, lips ajar trying to catch the stuffy air around us.

I remember, that was when we had first met, in the crowded room where we had caught the other's eyes, but it was like we knew each other. We had confidence that we were right– and we were. From when he placed his hands over my eyes like it was the 100th time, and I chuckled at him like it was. He showed me intense and mild– first and last, but most importantly love. I always thought it was hard, hard to find, hard to hold onto. But with him it was easy. He made himself so easy to love. When his hand holds mine or rests on my back, when he loves me tenderly and never lets go.

✭

“Come on, read to me” The brunette lays his head on my lap and his feet rest off of the side of the couch. I chuckle at his gesture- wide grinned and oh so gorgeous. We both chuckle and he examines my face as I open my mouth to start reading. “To be fond of dancing was a certain step toward falling in love; and very lively hopes of Mr Bingely’s heart were entertained.”

My eyes glance down at Lando, a content smile plastered on his face. “Are you fond of dancing?” He asks me, full of interest and curiosity. “Yeah, well I’ve never done it before, but I’m sure I’ll love it.” Just as quickly as he lay down, he gets back up and reaches a calloused hand out to me. “Let’s dance” Enchanting grin on his lips as his other hand goes into his pocket and fishes out his phone.

I place my bookmark between the thin pages and grab his solitary hand as “Can’t take my eyes off you” by Frankie Valli plays from the speakers of his phone. He effortlessly throws his phone on the couch and places his free hand on my waist. One of my hands rested on his shoulder and the other tangled with his.

We slowly sway to the music trying to keep up with the rhythm of the song. Pupils staring into the other, no need for words to express our feelings as we already know. We read the other from the twitch in their smile to the furrow in their brow and emotion in their gleaming eyes. I let him lead us, the pace and our movements. As the song progresses, our speed changes, he sings it with much emotion, head swinging everywhere but gaze upon me. And when the infamous chorus comes up he starts swinging our arms up and down, feet jumping all around the room.

Both of our faces beaming with happiness and loud simultaneous laughs fleeing our mouths. We betray dancing and he wraps me in a tight embrace, still keeping our bodies swaying to the music, but having nothing except our clothes keeping us from each other. His big hands splay out on my back and my smaller ones laze on his nape, tickling the little hairs on the back of his head. We listen to the others breathing trying to reach the same tempo while our lips inch closer and closer, ultimately meeting.

The kiss wasn’t rushed, it was captivating. Forcing me to stay, and let him steal my breath, only ever releasing from him when his hands have to force me to. He holds either side of my face and plants firm pecks along my features, trailing them from my eyebrows to my nose, cheeks and jawline. My face heats up and I’m sure my cheeks go the same shade as my lips. Words don’t seem possible for me so I let out little mumbles, the words–I have no clue of, but I think he knows from the small curve in his lips.

We held each other that night involved in a physical love not one that was severe but serene.

✭

“Did you- did you ever expect me? Like did you think there was always a place in your life that was…missing something or waiting for it and that thing was…”

“Yes. There was always a part in my world for you. A space waiting for that girl from my dreams and now, I… I have her.” His voice was soft, almost a whisper and his cheeks speckled with pink, I could feel myself rising in temperature. Still after months I couldn’t control myself around him, becoming flustered and flushed every time he looked at me or made a noise.

✭

He intertwined one of his hands with mine, other arm holding our cart bag full of golf clubs. He looked so beautiful under the sunlight, the beams of light shining onto his tanned skin and shifting the colour of his irises. On this day I’d let him take me out to play golf. I had lied to him, claiming I’d never even held a club before. But all I wanted was to feel the warmth of his body against mine and breathing in my ear.

He became so euphoric, having the opportunity to show me one of his favourite things. I had altered my stance and swung the club miserably. I nearly cried myself, but then his hands gripped my waist and pulled my body into his. As his warmth surrounded me I nearly melted like ice cream vulnerable to the sun. His hands wrapped over mine and I could feel his breathing against my neck and scarcely caressing my ear.

He whispered words in my ear, but my mind was stuck in a haze that I could only hear the outline of them. He tried swinging the club with me, expecting for it to turn out just like the movies we had watched together but we failed. Although we did succeed in laughing together like a couple of idiots, knowing we could rely on the other for laughter was another one of our strongest holds.

Our fits of chuckles eventually died down and we tried a few more holes. Tilted lips still intact and little giggles along the way, from when he wouldn’t get the best putt or chip and would react overdramatically. Hands in the air, gripping my shoulders or stomping like a kid.

We hadn’t even made it to the 10th hole when he suggested we try something else out, he kept telling me it wasn’t because this isn’t enjoyable but he wanted us to try something new. So he tangled his hands with mine again and led me to his car.

His hand rested on my thigh as he drove us around, having no location set in mind but just the feeling of being together without having the worry or stress of life. I let him drive us to a secluded area, it has a perfect view of Monaco and it’s where we usually go for our runs. I don’t question him to why we’re here, but my breath hitches as his fingers travel further up my skirt. I didn’t have a need for him right now, but suddenly it has risen and I push my hips forward, making him teasingly chuckle at me, but finally slide his fingers under the fabric of my panties.

“Fuck, you’re drenched. And how long has it been? A few seconds.” I look down innocently, but still spread my legs wider.

“Come here” He demands of me and helps me cross the middle console so I sit directly on his lap. Holding his shoulders for stability. It was a tight space, but we both knew we could make do with it. My core brushes against his bulge and he lets out a deep groan, lifting me up the slightest bit so he can undo his belt and pull his pants down at just the right length.

My hands do the work of lifting my dress up and bunching it up by my chest. He moves my panties to the side and slowly lowers me onto his dick. His eyes squeeze shut and mouth opens wide as a long whine leaves my lips and I feel his dick stretching me with his thickness. His large hands continue lowering me, as deep as he can get. Once he strokes that one spot that has my release escalating, we stay there and just savour the feeling. Once I feel the need for more movement I leisurely lift myself up and then fall back down onto him. My clit brushes against his skin and I writhe my hips to gain more friction and pleasure. He helps me by shifting his hips along with mine and we moan simultaneously.

“You want more?” He breathes out, and when I nod he lifts his hips up and somehow thrusts deeper into me. My head goes into the space between his neck and shoulder and I bite his exposed skin. I expect the sudden action to shock him, and it did, but a pleasurable moan leaves his mouth and I start to cover his skin in love bites. He continues his motions at a gratifying pace and I move my hips along with him, so we both meet at the middle making the escalation of our releases rocket.

The moment was so risky but oh so intimate that we didn’t care if someone caught us. And that was what drove our desire for this more, the risk, the danger. A long whine left my mouth as I came and the tears that pooled in my eyes finally fled. He continues lifting my hips up and down– riding him out of my high and into his. I place more bites and kisses on his neck and his thrusts become sloppier, losing pattern and then he lets out a low groan as he ultimately cums in me.

He doesn’t stop but goes faster, the noise of our motions even louder and I can feel the knot in my stomach tightening at every ram. I feel more sensitive to his touch and I slam down onto him with more force as he brings me to my second climax of the afternoon. He whispers such dirty words to me in such soft voices, one hand leaves my hip and goes to the back of my neck, pulling my head back to watch the tears that left my eyes before guiding my head back to his, and our lips collide. I let out whimpers into his mouth and he groans into mine.

“Are you gonna, cum?” He asks between thrusts. I can’t manage to find words but noises come out oh so very easily and once again I cum on him. Only seconds later I feel him twitching inside of me and just like the first time he releases into me. I feel so high as his cum fills me up and instead of resting like I thought we would, he opens the door and while he’s still buried deep in me, I wrap my legs around his waist and he walks us out to the front of the car.

My back lands on the bonnet of the car and he pulls out of me. “Fuck look at that, you’re dripping with my cum.” He groans out as he bends down to look at the mess he made. His beautiful lips curl into a grin before his bright eyes become darker and he commands me to turn around, so I listen to his demands and my chest presses against the hot surface of his car.

His big hands open my feeble legs wider and he pushes into me with much vigour. My whole body moves with his, one of his hands moves to my hip and the other grips my hair in a makeshift ponytail. He hadn’t ever shown this much power, force, dominance, and I can say, I enjoy this side of him. The one where he tells me what to do in that one voice, where he wants to wear me out, fill me up.

I feel so sensitive to his touch now, more than I had been before and an endless string of moans emit from my mouth. The hand he placed on my hip now slid up and down my side, splaying out on my abdomen before moving up to hold one of my breasts. His pelvis slamming against the skin of my ass, and sharp breaths leaving his mouth. I whine and wail little begs of please. Not asking for anything specific, not really having a clue what to ask for.

His hand leaves my hair and wraps around my throat. Light enough for me to breathe, but firm enough for me to feel it. His thrusts become messier but still hold the same amount of power and every time he strokes that one spot in me, I know I’m close. “Gonna fill you up again” He murmurs between each ram and at his words and actions I finally release with a loud whine and moan. Not even seconds later I feel him cum in me again.

After a few short thrusts he pulls out and I feel the loss of him before two of his thick fingers fill the empty space. I soon realise why, as he pushes his cum back into me. I moan at his touch and then whine at the loss of it again. That was until he turned my body around and before I gained my stance he pushed me back and shoved his fingers in my mouth.

“Taste me” He whispers and I swirl my tongue around his two fingers, till he slowly drags them out. I watch as he slips them into his mouth, his eyes beam into mine– sultry and tantalising. My legs couldn’t bear to move so when he bent down and spread them apart again, I didn’t do a single thing to stop him, or help him. I did know that I would barely be able to handle more, but oh lust is a strong feeling. And so is his tongue against my swollen clit. He helps my body lay down on the bonnet of the car just like a bed so he can perfectly watch the way I clench my walls and keep his cum deep in me.

My legs urge to close when he makes contact with my clit again, flicking it up and down while his fingers start pumping in me viciously. “Gonna push my cum deeper in you huh. You like that?” He asks my helpless figure, arms splayed out next to me, head pointed to the sky and eyes shut closed. My involuntary moans and blaring whines are the only sounds beside his harsh thrusts. His name leaves my mouth a countless amount of times people could mistake it for a mantra. “Oh Lando. Please Lando. Fuck…Lando. ”

The most I had ever said his name, oh his sweet name. So recognisable from others and when he first told me it, it never left my mind. I think of his name with hearts around it, but now, I’ve added fire.

My back arches at every curl of his fingers and stroke of his tongue. My release only mere seconds away, and he knows as speaks against my clit, telling me to cum in his mouth and cover his tongue. My legs shake and my overstimulated walls flutter around his overactive fingers.

I whine out loud as I release and he sucks on my clit, licking it and trying to gather all of my cum. His fingers don’t stop driving in and out of me that I have to beg him to stop. And when he finally does I watch his head lift up and a boyish grin mixed with a smirk dances on his face. He opens his mouth and shows me the last of my cum sitting on his tongue before he closes his mouth to swallow it.

His hands come beside me as he stands up just to lean back down on my body and give me a soft kiss. Once he pulls away he slips in two of his fingers in my mouth which makes me whine but I comply as I suck on his fingers not failing to get a groan from him. Very slowly he slides his fingers out then starts placing small kisses all over my face. Wrapping his arms around my body and digging his head into the crook of my neck to land more kisses on my skin. It makes me giggle and I wrap my arms around him too, pulling him closer to me than before. We lay on the bonnet of his car until the sun sunk in the sky, full of laughter and love.

✭

“That’s my top five favourite times with you” He gives me a delicate smile and grabs my hands in his. “Lando, that’s four.”

“Oh…you're right” I can see the gears turning in his head as he mentally counts all of the moments he had talked about.

“Sorry but you’ve got to think of another one, unless I’m that boring.”

“Ok then, the last time is now.” He says with much certainty and confidence.

“Why now…?” I question.

“Because of this” I watch as one of his hands reaches into his pocket and he pulls out a small box. My mouth slowly gapes open and my eyes pool with tears as he opens the box precisely and then my eyes land on the ring.

I look back at Landos beautiful tanned face, eyes vibrant and adoring. They gleam with unshed tears too, and he nods at me. Letting me know this is real and he wants me, forever and always, through richer and poorer, thick and thin, till death do us part. Yes becomes the only word that leaves my mouth and I don’t stop saying it even after he put the ring on my finger and I leapt into his arms. Sitting in his lap, surrounded by his devotion and love.

I remember his face from that room, the one where we made eye contact for moments, moments that I had only hoped would never end. But then someone walked in and we both still managed to see each other again. And oh how lucky we are.

#f1 #f1 smut #lando norris #f1 x reader #formula 1 #lando norris x reader #lando norris smut #lando x reader #lando norris x you #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #lando norris fic #lando norris fluff #lando norris fanfic #lando norris imagine

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duhnova · 7 months

Text

Dancing Queen | Choi Seungcheol

Pairing: disco club owner!choi seungcheol x performer!reader (fem)

Genre: smut, fluff, tiny bit of angst if you squint but its almost nonexistent

Synopsis: the stage is where you felt the most comfortable, letting go and singing for everyone that would sit and listen. but it was hard making a living in America, every corner you turned there was trouble waiting for you because you were too comfortable with your sexuality for the public’s liking. so when you stepped off the ship that took you to your new life in Paris, you were surprised to collide with a disco club owner who was in a similar boat as you.

Warning(s): smut under the cut (mdni!!!), mentions of food and alcohol, joke about marriage, ambiguous sexuality, talks on sexuality and swinging any which way, cat calling, talks of sexism and a little power imbalance, mentions of religion and leaving the church, mentions of immigration, implications of a future threesome, cheol has a sir & daddy kink (big surprise), spanking, bruises (cheol has a bit of a heavy hand and thrust), office sex, a bit of praising (both ways), lowkey breeding kink (are we surprised?), i feel like the sex was a bit tame in this but please let me know if i forgot anything else! - don't mind grammatical errors and typos, i tried!

A/N: biggest shout out to @onlyseokmins & @the-boy-meets-evil for proof reading for me and offering feedback/opinions, and for also putting up with my late night bullshit these last few nights of constantly putting off finishing this - jess really saw my turmoil with this one and BLESS her heart for not telling me to go fuck myself after id message her late saying i either finished a section or i didn't end up writing like i wanted too (and then id send her an idea right after for her to read in the morning). anyways i spent the last few months struggling with this fic and i hope ya'll like it and if you don't... keep it to yourself <3

70s;teen collab masterlist | my svt masterlist

Paris was beautiful, the long voyage was more and more worth it the longer you spent in the city that bustled and thrived. America was nothing compared to France, the countrysides and the cities alike felt like they were straight out of a book.

Life was starting to finally look up for you, even if you weren't fully able to escape the turmoils you faced in America, you were given more opportunities in the so-called city of love. Cars driven by men still honked at you and women with their children glared and covered their kin's eyes as you walked down the street, your cleavage and shoulders on display and your skirt far above the knees.

Despite the business of the city during the day, there were plenty of shops downtown that didn’t open up until nightfall. One in particular, Club Kidult, was said to be the best nightclub in all of the country. It’s owned by a man from Korea who is a wildcard, with a knack for “adopting” foreigners - or so you’ve been told.

“Can’t you read? We’re closed right now.” A man glares at you after knocking on the front door of Club Kidult.

“Is the owner here?” You brushed the strange man’s hostility off. His glare turned to curiosity as he finally eyed you up and down in a manner that wasn’t unfamiliar.

“Why? Does he owe you money, doll?” The man moves to fully stand in the doorframe, letting you get a nice view of the inside of the shop behind his tall stature.

“No…” You huff quietly at the insinuation before giving him your sweetest smile, knowing exactly how to play with a man. “I wanted to see if I could perform here tonight.”

“You a dancer?”

“I can be if you want.” You couldn’t help the flirty tone, the man was attractive and so far he hasn’t treated you like an object. “But I mainly sing.”

“A singer?” He hums quietly, his grin showing off his sharp teeth. “We don’t get many of those around here, most women want to dance on our stage.”

“I could imagine,” You cross your arms, pushing your boobs up slightly. “So… Is he in?” The man hums quietly.

“Ah, no.” He was very blunt with his answer before he looked back over his shoulder to look at the empty building. “But…”

“But?”

“He might kill me for this but,” he looks back at you. “I’ll let you wait for him. He likes to stop by and make sure everything is ready for the night before he goes to get dolled up.”

“Well I don’t want to get you in trouble now.”

“Oh, I’m sure you’ll get me in a lot of trouble, doll,” He gives you a wink before he’s moving out of the way to welcome you into the club. “Too bad I’m not scared of Cheol.”

“Cheol?” You question as you hesitantly walk into the establishment. Despite it being closed still, there was music playing and you could hear a lot of voices coming from somewhere in the back - easing your nerves of possibly being alone with this stranger.

“Choi Seungcheol is the name of the owner, but don't call him that or he might bite your head off.”

“So what do I call him then?”

“I’m sure he’ll tell you, but you can address him as sir, I guess.” The man shrugs. “I’m Mingyu by the way, head of security at this joint.”

“So head of security, do you just let all the people that come knocking on the door looking for your boss in?”

“Only the pretty ones.” He smirks as he walks around the bar. “Our bartenders don’t show up for another hour but I can whip you up somethin' simple if you like.” He leans against the counter as he watches you take a seat at one of the bar stools.

“Whiskey please.”

“Just whiskey?” He looks at you with raised eyebrows as you nod your head. You never felt comfortable in bars back home, the majority of them filled with only men and so the list of mixed drinks intimidated you. The only thing you were comfortable with was bourbon and whiskey as your father always had them in stock in his cabinet. “I like you.” Mingyu grins as he pulls the most expensive bottle of whiskey off the shelfs to pour over ice for you.

“I��m wonderin'…” You mumble as you pull the glass towards you after Mingyu set it down on a napkin for you.

“About?” The tall male leans against the counter top.

“Is it true?” You take a sip of your whiskey and before you can reiterate what you mean, Mingyu beats you to it.

“If the rumors are true?” He shrugs at your scoff. “Most of us workin' aren’t from here… Couple of the girls are from across the pond like yourself.”

“They're American?”

“Well… A little more south. Brazil I think.”

“Are they dancers?” You take another sip of your drink. “I’m assuming that’s what Mr. Choi likes.”

“A few are but one of them is our head chef.” Mingyu hums quietly. “And dancers aren’t Cheols favorite, they're mine.” You laugh quietly at his wolfish grin.

“Well what does Mr. Choi like?”

“Well he doesn’t like to be called Mr. Choi, that’s for sure.” He pushes off the counter just as the door to the club opens. “And he likes singers!” He’s quick to rush out as he speed walks around the bar to stand in front of you a little.

“Wha-” You stop midway through your word as you spin in your chair to see a man dead staring in your direction.

“Cheol!”

“Mingyu…” His voice was low and dangerous as he tried to scope you out from behind the tall wall of a man.

“Hiya boss… Look.”

“What have I told you about bringin' strays in while I’m not here.”

“C’mon man look at her, she’s smokin'!” He whips around to quickly apologize before he’s turning back towards the man you presumed was Choi Seungcheol. “She wants to sing here.” He doesn’t give anyone a chance to breathe as he steps to the side to give Seungcheol the full view of you. He falters for just a millisecond as his eyes scan you from head to toe before he’s turning to Mingyu.

“Next time ya bring someone in here without me knowin', I’m cuttin' your pay.”

“Noted.” Mingyu nods quickly.

“Come with me upstairs.” He doesn’t give you a second glance before he’s walking towards a set of stairs that are blocked off that lead up to the upper level where his office sits.

“So, ya wanna work here?’ Seungcheol wasted no time as he offered the seat in front of his desk for you to sit in. His accent a little different from his friend downstairs and you figured it had to do with the duration of time each had spent in the country.

“Yes,” you take the seat with a small nod of thanks. “I wanna sing on your stage.” The look Seungcheol gave you as he sat back in his office chair, the slight glare of his eyes as they raked your body, caused shivers to run up your spine.

“A singer?” He mumbles behind the hand that rested over his mouth as he propped his elbow on the arm of his chair.

“Yes. I used to sing in New York an-”

“New York? You're American?”

“I... yes,” you mumble. “Is that a problem?”

“No... Not one bit.” He sat up straighter, fixing his coat as he eyed you up again. “My whole staff is foreign, as are my performers.”

“So I’ve heard.”

“My reputation carries, I see.” He smirks.

“So... Will you let me sing here?” You lean forward a little, letting your chest pop out a little, hopefully his eyes will linger long enough for him to fold.

“I’ll need to hear you first before I let you on my stage.” His eyes don’t waver from your face, he knew the game you were trying to play - it’s one he’s played plenty of times to get where he was.

“Oh...” You huff quietly before sitting back in your chair.

“Don’t sound so disappointed darlin’, I didn’t say no.” He has to bite his tongue to keep from grinning at the way your demeanor changed in seconds. “We’re closed on Sundays, come back then and show me what you got and I’ll decide if I have room for you or not.”

“Sunday?”

“What? Don’t tell me you’ve got plans already.” He watched the way you messed with a beat up rosary sticking out of your pocket.

“I didn’t take you for someone that got on their knees for men that were higher than them.”

“Only the rich ones.” You smile back. “But no, I don’t go to church anymore. I just have a date with the eiffel tower.”

“I see, sorry I assumed because I saw the rosary. I’ve only known church goers to carry them.”

“I abandoned the church a long time ago, it just used to be my grandma's, it’s kind of like my good luck charm now.”

“I abandoned the church a long time ago too.”

“Yeah?” Your eyes lit up in curiosity.

“Times are changing, life’s too short to not love who and what you wanna love.”

“So you swing one way… two ways?...” Your voice trailed off as you tried to guess his preference.

“I swing anyway you want me to, darlin’.” He leans over his desk and rests his chin on the back of his interlocked hands so he can give you a cheeky grin. “We can even invite the idiot downstairs that let you in if that floats your boat…” Your legs squeeze closed at the idea and his eyes can’t help but wander this time. “And I’m sure it does.”

“So Sunday?” You whisper, your voice getting lost in your throat at the way Seungcheol's eyes looked back up at you through his lashes.

“Sunday, nine in the morning. Can you do that?” You nod quickly.

“Yes!” You clear your throat as your voice cracked from the change in volume. “Yes, I can do that.” He laughs a little at your contained excitement as he sits back in his chair again.

“Good, don’t be late. I expect you to be here the second the clock hits nine and if you’re not… My doors won’t open.”

“Got it... Sir.” You smile sweetly at him, his adam’s apple bobbing a little as he scoffs quietly.

“Good… Girl. Now go, suns goin down and we open soon.”

“Right. Well, I’ll see you on Sunday.” You stand up and straighten your shorts before you give him a curt nod and scurry to the door. Just as you open it you turn your head back and give him the cutest smile you could muster. “Thank you, Sir.”

Before you could get any kind of response from him you close his office door quickly and rush down the stairs, cheering quietly to yourself. You were going to spend the rest of the week anticipating this little “audition.”

“I take it he’s lettin' you in?” Mingyu was leaning against the bar top, a shaggy brown haired male working behind him, cleaning glasses.

“Well, not exactly.”

“What?” The unknown male stopped what he was doing to look at you wide eyed. “You’re the finest girl to walk through those doors and ask to work here and he just turned you down?”

“Chan…” Mingyu's voice was laced with warning.

“Sorry…” He mumbles to you before he goes back to cleaning his cups.

“It’s alright, I’m used to it.” You shrug with a smile. “But he didn’t turn me down, he just said I have to show him what I got first before I can sing on his stage.”

“First, ya shouldn’t be used to men treatin' you like that, this world is disgusting.” Mingyu pushes off the counter so he can walk you to the door. “And second, Cheol has never allowed just any singers to sing here. You have - ”

“I have to be good, I know.” You smile up at him and pat his arm that was firm under your touch and it took everything in you to not do it again just to feel the muscles that laid under his shirt.

“Piece of advice...” He mumbles to you as he opens the club’s doors for you. “He likes upbeat songs, things that are funky and out there.”

“Has he heard of Abba?”

“Honey... I don’t know who that is.”

“So I know what to play then.” You both mirrored the same grin as you stepped out into the dimming light.

“Will you be okay walkin' home?” You nod your head as you turn to walk backwards to watch Mingyu watch you walk while he leans against the doorframe.

“I live close enough to see your neon lights shine!” You call out over the loud roaring of a car passing by. “I’ll be fine!”

“You better be! I wanna see you perform!” He yells back, waving at you as you wave and turn to start to run down the sidewalk in joy. You laugh to yourself, twirling and jumping over the curbs - your dream was one step closer to coming true.

Sunday couldn’t come any quicker as you spent everyday exploring Paris just to sit at your window and watch the crowd in front of Club Kidult every night. To think that that many people could be lining up next week to hear you sing - if all goes well - when you meet Seungcheol again.

When you woke up to the sun barely peeking over the horizon, you groaned in frustration. Your little alarm was set to go off in forty more minutes but the excitement of what was going to happen in a couple hours had you jumping up to take a long hot shower.

You let your hair air dry for a little bit before you set it up in curlers so you could finish off drying them with the fancy new hair dryer you splurged on when you moved here. You could never afford these types of luxuries back home, the prices being drastic.

You hummed the tune of the song you were going to be performing quietly as you danced around your room getting clothes out so you could change while your hairs cooled off in the curlers - hopefully making your curls last longer.

“I can’t believe today is the day,” you mumble as you buttoned up your high waisted pants that flared a little at the bottom. Tucking your shirt in a little, you make your way to your front door where all your shoes sat waiting for you to choose from.

You go back to humming your song as you slip your shoes on, fixing the straps on them before standing up straight to check your makeup in the mirror by your door. You yelp quietly at the sight of your curlers still in before you are carefully rushing to take them down.

“Can’t believe I almost walked out the house lookin' like a clown.” You laugh quietly at yourself as you go back to your bathroom to hairspray your hair, mumbling that you’ll clean your apartment floors later tonight as you trudged your outdoor shoes through your living room.

Once you were out the door, you all but skipped down the hall, taking the steps two at a time as you happily jumped down them so you could make it to the club on time - early even, which you hoped made a good first impression on the owner.

“You’re early.” Mingyu chirps from behind you as you make your way up to the front doors of the club.

“Jesus!” You yelp in surprise.

“Sorry darlin’, didn’t mean to scare ya.” He walks past you to unlock one of the doors. “Cheol ain’t here yet, it’s barely eight.”

“Guess I’m earlier than I thought.” You laugh nervously.

“He’ll like that. Most of us barely run on time.”

“You’re here early too, though.”

“Actually, between me and you I’ve been here since seven.” He laughs quietly as he hangs his coat over one of the bar chairs. “We have a delivery comin soon and I was supposed to be here waitin' and cleanin'.”

“Well your secret is safe with me.” You smile at him as you watch the way he messes with the clock on some machine on the wall before he’s putting a card through it. “Don’t forget to set that clock back.”

You watch Mingyu almost break his back as he jerks back around to make sure the punch machine clock reads the same time as the clock on the wall before he’s putting the glass cover back on it.

“Thank you, darlin'’” He gives you a grin full of teeth.

“No problem, handsome.” You giggle at the way he puffs his chest out a little at the comment. “If you need any help I obviously have some free time.”

“Just sit there and look cute while I restock the bar to make room for new inventory in the back.” He winks at you. “Wouldn’t want you gettin' hurt before you're supposed to perform for me and the big boss.”

“Lookin' pretty is no fun.” You huff as you sit at the bar just as the club door swings open to let in a bunch of natural light.

“You must never have fun then.” Seungcheol doesn’t waste a beat as he locks the club door before shrugging his coat off and making his way to the staircase.

“I have plenty of fun, thank you very much.” You cross your arms and watch the way his pants accentuate his ass.

“Do you now?” He stops in front of his office door to look back at you. “Hard to believe for a pretty face like yours.”

“You think I’m pretty?”

“Doll… I’d be dumb to not think it.” You can’t help the little happy wiggle you do as Seungcheol turns back around to walk into his office.

The bar doesn’t stay quiet for long as Mingyu hauls a bunch of boxes from the backrooms that are filled with supplies.

“We had a busy week.” He drops the last box on the counter in front of you. “Had to call in this month’s shipment early.”

Your eyebrows rose in curiosity as you peek into the box to view its contents. Packs of little drink umbrellas filled half the box, and with even more curiosity, you pull one of them out.

“You mind pullin' those all out for me?” Mingyu sets an almost empty container on the counter next to the box that had a couple little umbrellas left. “Just put 'em in there and Chan will unwrap them later.”

A nice silence fell between the two of you as he replaced missing alcohol bottles on the shelves and put more cups under the counter. Mingyu even gave you a box full of straws and told you to wash your hands so you could fill all the straw dispensers with what was left in the box.

“Are you makin' her work before she’s even hired, Gyu?” Seungcheol walks down the stairs to smile at the sight of you stocking straws and Mingyu stacking more receipt books under the register.

“Hey, she wanted to help.” Mingyu shrugs as he goes about his business unbothered.

“It’s fun stocking things.” You shrug in a similar manner as Mingyu without even looking up from the dispenser you're trying to symmetrically stuff straws into.

“You two are strange.” He shakes his head before sitting at the bar to admire the way you floated behind the counter, moving around Mingyu's clumsy figure like he didn’t even exist.

“Strange how?” Mingyu scoffs as he finishes his task before turning to stuff the last straw dispenser despite your whining that you were just about to do that one. “There was time to kill before her performance.”

“There was only time to kill cause someone here is an early bird.” He smiles at the way you cross your arms. “Which is nice… It’s refreshing to see someone here before me.”

“Hey, I was here before you.” Mingyu butts in.

“It’s a miracle.” Seungcheol raises his eyebrow at the tall male in a manner that challenged him to keep arguing.

“Fuck face.” Mingyu mumbles under his breath in a playful manner before he starts gathering all the empty boxes to break down and toss out.

“So.” Once Mingyu took all the trash to the backrooms Seungcheol put all his attention back on you. “Any reason why your early?”

“Gonna complain already?” You lean against the counter so you were closer to his vicinity. Mimicking you, Seungcheol leans forward too – you're so close your breath mingles together.

“Who said I was complainin'?”

“Well you don’t seem too happy I’m here.”

“Oh darlin’, I’m over the moon.” He smirks at the way you bite your lip, your red lipstick unwavering.

“Maybe I just wanted some alone time with your little guard back there without any distractions, like you.” You hum playfully.

“Ouch, you’re hurtin' me doll.” He runs his tongue over his teeth.

“Aw.” You fake pout before you're grinning. “You could hurt me.”

“The only thing I’d hurt on you, doll, are your hips.”

“Is that a promise?” You lean over the counter, a little more in excitement. Flirting came naturally to you, it was a great way to get what you wanted but you’ve never felt more genuinely attracted to someone like you are to Seungcheol. Before he could respond, Mingyu comes sauntering through the backdoors with his arms full of cleaning supplies.

‘Great timing, Gyu” Seungcheol pulled away at the same time as you jumped back from leaning on the counter.

“Sorry,” He looked at you, then his boss before he was dropping the supplies on the counter. “Did I interrupt somethin'?” Neither of you answered, which was enough of an answer for Mingyu as he starts to clean the bar, mumbling another apology to you as you scurried from behind the counter to stand a little awkwardly off to the side of where Seungcheol was sitting.

“It’s almost time for you to sing for us, need me to set anything up for you?” You shake your head no, you were more than familiar with the systems that were used in clubs like this. “Everything you’ll need is either behind the stage or off to the side, yell if you need me.”

While you were turning the system and speakers on, you realized you forgot your vinyl record that had the song on it at home. Cursing quietly under your breath you pray that they somehow have the record as you start to flip through the hundreds of vinyl records they had in the back.

“How the hell are you not gonna have Abba in here?” You whine quietly as you made your way through the last couple of vinyls. “Mr. Choi!” You yell loud enough for him to hear you from behind the stage. You could hear what sounded like the chair hitting the counter (or floor) and Mingyu cursing as Seungcheol’s quick footsteps approach from behind you.

“Are you okay?” His voice was filled with worry.

“I forgot my record at home and you don’t have it here for me to use in the background.” You huff quietly, a small pout on your lips.

“Aw darlin'; you gave me a heart attack, I thought you hurt yourself.” Seungcheol sighs in relief. “Just sing without it, wow us even more without the sound.”

“I haven’t performed for people without the music before.” You mumble, a little self conscious of your raw voice.

“It’ll just be me and Gyu, you got nothin' to worry about.” He reassures you with a smile. “I’m gonna sit down, come out when you’re ready.”

When Seungncheol went back out to the front room, you started to pace back and forth. You focused on the melody of the song in your head – you’ve sang this song a million times, both with and without the track, so it shouldn’t be too hard.

After a couple minutes pass by, you finally take a deep breath and push your nerves down. Without much of a second thought, you walked out onto the stage and up to the mic that was already setup. Seungcheol was sitting at the bar with a glass of what looked like orange juice while Mingyu leaned against the counter to watch you intensely.

“This song is supposed to be upbea.t so it might not sound as good without the music but,” you took a deep breath. “I’ll be singing Dancing Queen by Abba for you.”

“You’ve got this!” Mingyu cheered quietly as he smiled encouragingly, while Seungcheol offered a soft smile that calmed you down instantly.

You did a count in your head before you closed your eyes so you could feel the song deeper before you started to sing. Even without the music playing, you managed to stay on beat almost perfectly and as far as either male knew, the way you were singing the song was exactly how the song was supposed to sound.

“That was…” Mingyu broke the silence right after you had finished singing before he started to clap and cheer loudly for you. “You’re amazing!” He flicks Seungcheol’s ear to snap him out of whatever trance he was in to give you his thoughts.

“I told you you didn’t need the music playing.”

“Wow you start off with ‘I told you so,’.” Mingyu mocks him playfully which earned him a rather harsh smack and a giggle from you.

“Well I’m glad you both liked it since I was up here shakin' like a leaf in the wind.”

“Couldn’t even tell.” Mingyu calls after you as you go to shut the system off before joining the two in the front room again.

“I don’t know what I was expectin' when you said you were a singer.” Seungcheol watches you take a seat.

“Yeah he’s picky with his women, I mean singers.” Mingyu quickly excuses himself when Seungcheol glares at him hard.

“Don’t listen to that idiot.” He sighs quietly.

“It’s ok, I’m picky with my men.” You shrug and smile playfully at Seungcheol as you hop up onto the bar stool that was one away from where he was sitting.

“Do you wanna sing here Friday nights?”

“Are you serious?”

“It’s just to start off with, if the people like you I’ll book you for more nights.” He takes a sip of his juice to hide his smile as he watches you practically jump in your seat out of excitement.

“I’d love to!” You bite your tongue to keep from squealing too loud. “I’ll remember my record this time.”

“You’ll have to show it to me so I can buy it for here.” You nod your head quickly.

“I can’t believe it,” You smile brightly again, your excitement hard to contain. “Thank you so so much.”

“Of course, don’t disappoint me now, okay?” His voice was playful.

“Never.” You sounded one hundred percent serious.

“Good girl.” He mumbles under his breath before he’s taking another sip of his juice.

“I should get going now, I still have that date with the eiffel tower and a cafe to get breakfast.”

“Right.” He stands up from his chair so he can walk you out. “The view from the tower is beautiful.”

“So I’ve heard.”

“You hear a lot of things don’t you, doll?”

“Only good things I fear.” You give him a cheeky smile as you sigh quietly at the feeling of the warm sun hitting your face as you step outside.

“Well, have fun. I’ll see you Friday?”

“Maybe sooner if you’re lucky.” You can’t will yourself to step away yet.

“Well I hope I’m lucky then.” He leans against the doorframe, unable to move himself.

“We’ll see if you are.” A car horn in the distance finally broke you from whatever was keeping you glued there as you stepped backwards down the sidewalk like you did when saying bye to Mingyu the first day you were at the club. “Bye Mr. Choi, See you soon!”

“I hope.” He mumbles to himself as he waves back at you, yelling to be careful as you almost run into a lamp post.

“Bye Darlin’!” Mingyu pushes Seungcheol out the way so he can yell down the road before you were too far out of earshot.

“Bye Mingyu!” You turn back around to yell. “By the way, my name is Y/N!” Your laugh could be heard even from that distance as you make your way towards the Eiffel tower, flipping off a man who cat-called you from his car.

For some reason you found it hard to sleep, the birds were extra loud outside your window and the sun had barely breeched the horizon. Groaning for the umpteenth time that morning, you sit up abruptly, your hair a wild mess from all the tossing and turning you’ve been doing.

“This is stupid.” You mumble before tossing your blankets off your body so you could go to the bathroom to take a shower, hoping it’ll wake you up more.

The market down the street was going to open soon and you were in desperate need of more milk and coffee for your apartment. So when you got out of your shower you didn’t waste too much time in doing your hair, choosing to put it up in a messy ponytail with a red ribbon you recycled from an old christmas present. You didn’t bother with makeup before walking out of the house in a skirt that you cut to sit in the middle of your thighs along with a tank top.

Strolling down the street slowly, you reminisced a little with what’s happened the last couple of weeks, from you leaving New York and being stuck on a ship for weeks only to land in France where your dreams came true quicker then they ever would in America, the so called place where dreams come true. In the middle of your thoughts, an obnoxious whistle broke you from your trance and an even more obnoxious voice followed.

“Hi there, sweets.” The thick French -ccented English was slurred by alcohol and you weren’t surprised as you gave him the fakest and sweetest smile you could muster.

“Don’t fall on your way home.” You wiggled your fingers as you waved him goodbye. Sometimes it was better to hold your tongue and be nice, especially in a foreign setting that you weren’t too familiar with.

Luckily that was the only thing you had to deal with before making it to your destination. The market was just barely opened, the cashiers and a couple other customers joined you in the rather spacious store for it being so close to downtown.

“Well hey there, darlin'.’” The grin in the voice made you know instantly who it was.

“Hi Mingyu.” You put a jar of strawberry preserves into your little wicker basket that you brought with you as a bag.

“How’dja know it was me?” You looked up at the six-foot-something male with a raised eyebrow.

“Kiddin' me? I could hear the shameless grin in your voice from a mile away.”

“Touched you can recognize me without even lookin', I must be that good lookin'.”

“Hardly.” You grin playfully as you move on to look at the selection of bread they had on display today.

“Ouch, you hurt me darlin’.” He whines and it reminds you of Seungcheol, and a chill ran up your spine at the mere thought of said male.

“What brings you to the store so early? Thought you weren’t a mornin' person.” You put a loaf of sourdough bread in your basket and look back to see Mingyu's brown mop of hair peeking over the top of the shelf as he moved to the aisle over. Either he’s tall as fuck or the shelves are short, both could be true.

“Cheol’s been cooped up in his office all mornin stressin', an' being his right hand, it’s my job to stress with him I guess.” He sighs quietly but you still heard it as you moved further away from him to grab some bagels.

“Stressed?”

“Yeah, immigration is on his ass 'bout papers for all the workers, himself included, so he’s tryin to get his shit straight before someone gets in trouble.” Mingyu pops up next to you to grab himself some bagels. “So bring your papers with you on Friday, darlin’.”

“I will.” You hum quietly before looking down at the weird assortment of things in his store basket. “Whatcha makin’?”

“Whatever Cheol is in the mood for later, I love cookin' and it helps him get the stick out his ass.” He shrugs as he moves towards the refrigerated section.

“You cook?”

“And clean so if yer lookin’ for a husband I’m takin' applications.” He looks at you over his shoulder. “But only for you, darlin’.”

“In your dreams lover boy.”

“I could always dream ‘bout you.” He laughs quietly when you scoff. “Guessin' I’m not your type?” All you can do is shrug.

“Don’t gotta type.”

“Oh?”

“All they gotta be able to do is make me orgasm I guess.”

“Scandalous.” He checks through a couple packs of eggs before finding one he’s content with. “You and Cheol are similar in that way - as long as they’re kind he doesn’t care much who or what they are.”

“Do you care?”

“All I care is that they like my cookin’.” You knew you had found your people as you continue to shop with Mingyu trailing behind, picking up items he wasn’t even planning on until he saw you shopping in the section.

“Are you going back to the club now?” You walk out the store after you argued with Mingyu over him paying for your groceries, him arguing that it was a “welcome to the neighborhood” gift.

“Only to drop this stuff off.” He holds up his bag of groceries. “Then I gotta go pick up Cheol’s suit from the tailor and pick up some more food that I can’t get at a regular market.”’

“Imports?”

“Fresh fish straight from the ports of Japan and I’m picking up an order I had put in a while back for fresh Gochugaru.”

“Chili flakes?” You looked at him curiously.

“Yeah... You know Korean?”

“A little, my neighbor was a little old Korean lady and her kids moved across country and didn’t visit anymore, so I’d hang out with her often and she’d teach me Korean.”

“Cute,” Mingyu smiles gently, a huge contrast from the grin he always had. “Me and Cheol were forced to learn English when we had moved here because it was either that or French and one was significantly easier than the other for us.”

“You speak really well.”

“Thank you, I try.” You couldn’t help but giggle at the way he puffed his chest out.

A comforting silence fell over the two of you as you continued to walk down the street in the general direction of where you lived. Reaching a certain intersection you two stop - one way led you the rest of the way to your apartment and the other way led in the direction of the club.

“Need me to walk you the rest of the way home?”

“I got it from here Gyu.” You start to walk again in the direction of home, leaving Mingyu to stand there on his own.

“Gyu...” He smiled happily at you using his nickname. “Be safe! And I’ll be out of the club for at least an hour if you wanted to go visit the stress ball in his office, he could use the distraction!”

“I’ll consider gracing him!” You call back over your shoulder before waving goodbye to the golden retriever of a man who all but scurried across the street, narrowly missing a car who he quickly cursed at loud enough for you to hear him from down the road.

It didn’t take you long to get all your groceries put away, the thought of going to see Seungcheol had you moving on auto pilot. Taking a second to freshen up your appearance, you make sure your hair isn’t frizzy before you make your way out of your apartment to walk to the club.

The streets were unnaturally quiet as you walked in the direction that has become all too familiar to you in the short amount of time you’ve been here. Finally seeing the doors come into view, you realize that Mingyu said he was going to be out, so you had no idea on how you were going to get in.

“Oh!” Mingyu jumps a little as he opens the door to leave to see you standing there with a look of contemplation on your face. “You came darlin’. ”

“I hope I will be later,” The look of confused curiosity Mingyu gave you made you shake your head with a fond smile, opting to not explain your innuendo. “You said I’d be a good distraction for Mr. Choi so of course I came.”

“Well he’s up in his office, like he has been for hours.” Mingyu sighs quietly as he looks up at Seungcheol’s office in worry before he’s turning to give you a smile. “Like I said, I’ll be out for a couple hours so whole place is to yourselves.”

“Thank you.” You wave him goodbye, wishing him to be safe.

“Mr. Choi?” You mumble quietly as you knock on his door. It takes a long few seconds for you to get any acknowledgement that he heard you. “I’m comin’ in.” You didn’t give him the option to let you in or not as you open the door slowly to see tired eyes framed by fluffy and tousled hair looking at you.

“Whatcha doin’ here, honey?” The new nickname sent butterflies a flight in your tummy as you close the door behind you and make your way to stand in front of his desk.

“Gyu said you were stressin’,” you mumble as you look at all the paperwork spread across his desk. “Maybe you need a break from all this.”

“I can’t just ignore this all…” He sighs quietly as he runs his hand through his hair for what looks like the millionth time that morning.

“I’m not saying to forget ‘bout it, just saying you need to relax.” You start to gently and carefully stack the papers into a neat pile before setting it on the corner of his desk. Seungcheol just watches your hands move, even as you slowly move around his desk to stand behind him. “Let me help you, Mr. Choi.”

You hum quietly as you rest your hands on his shoulders and gently pull him to sit back in his chair. Sighing again, Seungcheol lets you do whatever you want as you start to massage at his shoulders - something you picked up from the men that you’d visit that worked on Wall Street.

“That feels nice.” He mumbles, his eyes fluttering closed as he relaxes into the back of his chair more.

“Yeah?” You mumble with a smile, a little sultry tone to your voice as you knead a little harder, the knot under your fingertips melting away. Seungcheol groans, satisfied at the tension leaving his body as he curses quietly in Korean causing you to giggle quietly. The words were familiar, your old neighbor having said them a time or two but in an angrier tone.

“What’s so funny doll?” He opens his mouth, his eyebrow raised in curiosity as he looked up at you.

“Nothin’ Mr. Choi.” You move your thumbs to rub as the back of his neck, gentler than you treated his shoulders.

“Y’know, if you keep callin' me Mr. Choi, I might just have to marry you.” He grins a little at the way you squeak in shock.

“You haven’t even taken me out to dinner yet and yer already proposin’?” You watch as Seungcheol sits up straight and rolls his head and shoulders, sighing in content at the relief he feels.

“My mother calls my father Mr. Choi, they’ve been married forty years now.” You couldn’t tell if he was joking anymore about the marriage thing as he spun around in his office chair to look up at you.

“What?” You look down at your outfit to see if there was anything he was staring at as a minute of silence passed by with him just looking at you.

“You should be on the cover of Vogue instead of in some place like this.” His fingers twitch on his lap as he finally lets his eyes wander farther than your face, but not for long as he’s looking back up into your eyes. Something about the way he held eye contact had your knees feeling weak. He didn’t look at you like you were a piece of meat but rather that you were the finest chocolates from À la Mère de Famille.

“I’m not a model sir.” You shrug as you begin to feel shy, something you haven’t felt around a man in a long time. “Besides, I like it here. The workers are hot and the atmosphere is calmin’.”

“The workers?” He raises his eyebrow in a pouting manner. “What ‘bout the owner?”

“Oh, he’s more than hot but you didn’t hear that from me.” You wink, giggling quietly at the way his pout turns to a smirk.

“Is that so? 'Nother rumor, I suppose.”

“Starting to think it’s not a rumor.” You hum quietly, rocking on your heels a little.

“Are there any other rumors you wanna prove to be true, darlin’?” He leans back in his chair and manspreads as he props his chin on his hand that’s resting on the armrest.

“Mm, not rumors per say.” You take an experimental step forward. “More of personal speculation.”

“Speculation?” He watches you like a hawk, his eyes darkening the closer you get.

“Can I touch you?” You whisper when you finally stand between his open knees.

“Fuck…” He groans quietly at the idea. “Thought you’d never ask, darlin’.” He nods his head, giving you approval to touch him.

Seungcheols adam’s apple bobs a little as he swallows, your fingers lighting a fire under his skin everywhere they ghost. You trailed your fingers up his knees and over his thighs before your palms begin to lay flat against his stomach. When you dig your fingers into the fabric of his dress shirt, Seungcheol flexed, the feeling of you tugging on it gently causes his resolve to crumble.

“Can I touch you?” It’s his turn to ask as his hands moved to grip at his armrests tightly.

“‘Course sir,” you whisper as you lean in closer, the scent of your soap filling his senses as his hands move to grab the back of your thighs so he can yank you to sit in his lap in one solid movement.

“Tell me to stop.” He mumbles as his hands travel up your back so he can pull you closer to his body.

“Don’t want you to stop.” You mumble as you lean closer to him, your hands leaving his stomach so you can drape your arms over his shoulders.

“Tell me when then.” He lets you lean in first to kiss and once your lips are on his, he’s spinning his chair around so he can press you against the edge of his desk. Smiling into the kiss you begin to rock and roll your hips in a way that has him hissing and groaning as he pulls away from the kiss.

“You got the hips of a dancer.” He groans at how expertly you moved your lower body against his as he kisses down your cheek and to your neck, something no one has really done before. The time he took kissing and mapping out every inch of your neck until he found your sweet spot had you whining.

“Told Gyu I was one,” You moan for the first time and it takes everything in Seungcheol to not slam you down on his desk to hear more of your pretty sounds. “Could show you what I got.”

“'Nother day.” He groans as he nips at the sensitive skin behind your ear before pulling away to look you in the eyes. Again the eye contact had your stomach flipping as you swallow the moan in your throat. “God…” He groans, his eyes closing as his hands on your back grip your shirt tightly.

“Am I a god now baby?”

“I’ll fuckin' worship you like one.” He growls when you push your hips down harder, the desire growing in every inch of your body as you bite your lip and watch him through hooded eyes.

“Mmm~” You lean your head back and close your eyes in pleasure when Seungcheol finally grips your hips and grinds up into you. “Fuck daddy.” The name slips off your tongue like the old habit it was, men in America would fall to their knees when the word left your plush lips.

In the blink of an eye, Seungcheol hoists you up to lay you flat on top of his desk so he can stand between your legs. His pupils were completely blown now, but you were sure yours were too as your thighs squeeze around his hips and he loosens the tie he had on and unbuttons the top buttons of his dress shirt.

“I’m gonna fuck you till you can’t walk outta here, darlin’.”

“You did say you could bruise my hips daddy, hope you weren’t lyin’.” He haphazardly rolls his sleeves up past his elbows before he’s diving down to kiss you again, this time a lot harsher than the first.

Moaning into his mouth, you tangle your fingers in his dark hair and tug it when he nips your tongue. All he does is smirk into the kiss and without letting up for much air ,he makes work on undoing his pants in the little room that’s between your bodies.

You tug his hair hard enough for him to pull away, his eyes half open as he groans at the delicious sting on his scalp. When you let go of his dark locks he stands up straight again so he can push his dress pants down his thighs and make work on tugging your panties off from under the skirt you had on.

“Tell me where you want me to finish.” He mumbles as he lets his hands travel up your thighs to slowly push your skirt up until it was resting on your stomach. His eyes stared you down like you were an art piece in the Louvre as his hands continued up your body till they were squeezing your boobs through the tanktop you were wearing.

“Inside.” You could see his cock twitch behind his boxer briefs as his eyes snap up to look at you.

“You sure darlin’? What ‘bout a kid?” He didn’t seem too nervous about having a kid with you but he was nervous that you might regret it.

“I’m on the pill.”

“The pill?”

“Yeah, it’s what some of the girls back home would call their birth control.” Your hands reach out to grab the ends of Sungcheol’s dress shirt to try and tug him towards you again, the cold air hitting your exposed pussy making the desire grow even more in you. “Not too sure ‘bout it yet though, haven't had unprotected sex since startin' it but I guess we’ll see if ya knock me up tonight.”

Seungcheol just smirks at your words and he opens his mouth to make some cheeky little comment but you sit up enough to grab his hair and yank him down to kiss him - shutting him up effectively and kickstarting his gears again as he pushes his hips against yours. The heat of your bare cunt makes his cock twitch more as he groans into the kiss that’s turned a little sloppy but that's just the way you like it as you grind your hips up against his, urging him to finally fuck you.

“You’re so warm.” He almost whines when he pulls away from the kiss to breathe as he pushes his boxers down enough for his cock to smack up against his stomach. Your mouth waters at the sight and your core pulses at the thought of being filled up more than you’ve ever been.

“'Nd your big.” You breathe out as he runs the tip of his cock through your folds, letting it nudge against your clit a couple times as he gets all nice and coated in your juices before he’s slipping further down where your entrance greedily sucks him in without much work from him.

“Fuck.” His hands grip the edge of the desk by your head as his eyes roll a little at how you squeeze around him. It was a familiar feeling but one he hasn’t felt in a long time and he can say with ease that it’s never felt this good before and he’s barely bottomed out.

“Move please.” You beg, the feeling of being split open made your brain go fuzzy and your mouth fill with drool as you choke on a moan when he slowly slides out till just the tip sits in your entrance. Just when you went to complain about him leaving you empty, he’s slamming back into you, jostling his desk and knocking the papers down that you had stacked up. “Fuck!” Your voice was high pitched and whiny as he definitely set a bruising pace early on.

“That’s it, take it doll,” He groans into your ear as he kisses and nips at your cheek and ear. “So good.” He moves one of his hands to trail down your side where it rests on your hip.

Your voice got lost in your throat as all you could do was moan and whimper a pathetic “Yes daddy,” every few seconds and every time you said it Seungcheol would find a new angle to make you say it louder and he’d accompany it with a smack to the side of your ass cheek - and when he felt like that side had enough attention hed switch to the other side.

“You’re getting tighter baby.” He moans instead of groans this time which causes you to squeeze around his cock tighter, the sound sending shockwaves through your body.

“So good~” You moan as you claw at his shoulders and scalp which draws more moans from him as he feels his orgasm approaching like a freight train.

“Oh fuck.” His hips stutter a little as he digs his nails into your hip to keep a grip on you as he quite literally fucks you into his desk.

“Right there daddy, fuck.” You gasp and lean your head back and bite your lip, your orgasm right there. “Daddy!” You squeal when he angles his hips up a little and hits your g-spot with precision, which finally draws you over the edge.

The force of your orgasm pulls Seungcheol over the edge with you as he groans your name lowly into your ear followed by gentle kisses to the side of your head as he continues to fuck his cum into you until both of your orgasms have been ridden out. Slowly he manages to pull himself from your grasp as he hisses at the loss of your warmth wrapping around him.

Pride swelled in Seungcheol’s chest as he looked down at your worn out state, your hair was a mess and little love bites adorn your neck like a necklace. The cherry on top of everything though was the way his cum seeped out of your weeping cunt and it has his cock twitching again.

“Still think I belong on Vogue?” You mumble a little shyly as you looked at the way he was just staring at you as you slowly sit up. When you hissed quietly he was quick to jump forward and help you.

“I’ll always think that,” He smiles as he picks your panties up from where he dropped them and helped you slip them on while you were still sitting on his desk. “You’re gorgeous, doll.”

“Well I feel like I belong on Playboy,” You roll your eyes playfully at your own little joke towards yourself before you're smiling up at Seungcheol as you reach forward to fix his shirt as he tucks himself back into his boxers and pants. “And thank you, you're not too bad yourself sir.” He makes a little noise at the title.

“What’s Playboy?” He mumbles as he rubs soothingly at your hips while slowly helping you off his desk where you stand on wobbly legs.

“I’ll explain it later.” You giggle quietly before your stomach interrupts by rumbling. “I’m hungry now.”

“Sure it’s not a baby in there?” You laugh at him while smacking his side.

“Don’t jinx it or I’ll never get to have that threesome you promised me.” You joked playfully.

“Oh we’ll still have that threesome, darlin’.” He grabs his coat to drape it over your shoulders as he helps you walk to the door of his office. “But I don’t take too kind to sharin’ what’s mine.”

“Does that mean I’m yours?” He shrugs as he looks down at you.

“Are ya?” You try to hide your smile by biting your lip as you walk ahead of him down the stairs.

“Maybe I am.” You finally hum as you turn to look at him once you made it to the bottom of the stairs. “Does that mean you’re mine?”

“Maybe it does.” He smiles at you as he stops directly in front of you and grabs your hips to pull you against his body. “Never felt like this for someone so quick, like hell I’d let you go.” He mumbles before he’s kissing you gently, one of his hands moving up to cup the side of your face as your hands cup the sides of his neck gently.

“Well,” Mingyu’s voice was laced in a pout as he opened the door of the club, his arms full of bags. “Havin’ fun without me? I’m hurt.”

“Great timing, Gyu.” Seungcheol mumbles against your lips with a huff. You giggle quietly and pull away from Seungcheol completely to go and try and help Mingyu with what he was carrying. If it wasn’t for the look Seungcheol gave him he would’ve fought you harder to do it all himself.

“Did you get all your ingredients for lunch?” You hum as you follow the tall male into the kitchen, where he directs where to put the stuff you were holding.

“Yeah, the market wasn’t that packed yet thankfully, but it also meant I wasn’t as gone as long as I thought.” He turns his head to look at you over his shoulder with a sheepish grin. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be, we had plenty of time.” You snort at the way he almost fell when he whipped around to face you fully. “I’m hungry though so I’ll tell you the details later.”

“Deal, guess I gotta make a heavier lunch to make up for all the energy you two burnt.” He goes back to putting the groceries away, leaving you to wander back into the main room of the club where you expected Seungcheol to be but it was empty. Huffing quietly you sit at the bar and squeak a little at the feeling of your thighs becoming wet from the mess Seunghceol left in your panties.

“Sorry, I had to go grab somethin' from my office.” Seungcheol joins you in sitting down not even a minute after you had sat down.

“What is it?” You question curiously as he sets a small box in front of you.

“A welcome gift, was gonna give it to you Friday, but guess you were right about seein' you sooner.” He smiles as you happily open the box only to close the lid quickly and slid it back towards him.

“No.”

“No?” He tried to not sound hurt.

“That looks too expensive.” He seemed to be a little relieved at this answer.

“Don’t worry 'bout my money doll, besides you’re worth it.” He opens the box himself and pulls the little bottle of Chanel N°5 perfume. He opens the cap and gently grabs your wrist so he can spray a little bit onto it.

“I’ve never heard of Chanel.” You mumble as you bring your wrist up to smell the perfume and you almost sigh at how good it smells.

“Everyone is gonna know Chanel after they meet you.” He mumbles as he carefully puts the cap back on and puts it back in the box for you.

“Thank you, Sir.”

“Cheol.” You look at him with raised eyebrows.

“You can call me Cheol when it’s just us and Gyu, and maybe Chan but he might tease me for it so try to refrain if you can.” He sighs quietly at the younger male’s antics.

“Ok Cheol.” You smile, loving the taste of his nickname on your tongue and Seungcheol seemed to like it just as much as his adam’s apple bobs.

“Ok love birds, try to not fuck on the bar please, don’t have time to disinfect it all.” Mingyu barges through the back door just as Seungcheol had leaned in to kiss you.

“It’s my bar, Gyu.” Seungcheol glares at him as he sits up straight.

“Not while I’m here, friend.” He laughs as he grabs three glasses so he could pour you all drinks.

“Was thinking of making gochujang garlic noodles with some bulgogi and kimchi on the side.” Mingyu hands you your glass.

“That sounds amazing, I haven’t had kimchi and bulgogi since the night before I left.” You take a small sip of your whiskey, the warmth filling your body.

“You’ve had those things before?” Seunghceol looks at you curiously while he takes a sip of his alcohol.

“Yeah, my neighbor was Korean and she’d cook all the time for me.” You give him a smile as you take another sip.

“She even knows a little Korean!” Mingyu chirps up as he goes back to the kitchen with his glass of plain cranberry juice.

“You do!?” He looks ecstatic as he jumps in to quizzing you on all the words you know while also teaching you a couple of his own favorite words while you two wait for Mingyu to finish cooking you lunch.

feedback + reblogs greatly appreciated, especially if you enjoyed the fic!

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