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#hashtags x hot takes

strawhbrrries · 6 months

Text

Movement

pairing: mike schmidt x afab!reader

summary: a double date that leads to mike schmidt coming home with you in the name of "helping your friend" and he ends up fucking you.

warnings: unprotected sex, no foreplay, creampie??, female pronouns, slight degrading??, pet names, heavy cussing, mike being hashtag v hot, no established relationship, porn with no plot, not proofread

word count: 2.1k words

author’s note: listen to movement by hozier for the full experience!!! I know this fic wasn't voted to be the first mike one to be posted but I had to do it okay!!!! he's so hot n sexy in this and i need him badly...please enjoy! mwah!

Your eyes scanned the restaurant in front of your car, you were promised a very nice dinner with a very nice man and the place you ended up might as well have been a denny’s. Gia somehow managed to rope you into a double date and as the amazing friend you are, you obliged. Now, you wanted to take it back. If the guy you were set up with wasn’t just an absolute heartthrob you might consider strangling her in the bathroom.

“Gia, this better be the best damn food and the hottest men you have ever experienced or I’m never doing you another favor ever again.” You teased, getting out of your car as she walked up to it.

“I swear he said this place was nicer! Thank you so much babes, I owe you one!” She responded, slipping her arm inside of yours to walk inside. “Maybe the inside is really nice and it’s just a shady exterior.”

You’d never seen the man Gia was seeing tonight so when the two of you arrived at the table you weren’t sure which man was yours, but you knew which one you wanted. He looked gentle, shaggy hair untamed almost like he wasn’t prepared to go on a date tonight.

“I suppose I’m your date.” He smiled softly, getting up to pull your chair out for you. “I’m MIke, you look uh, really beautiful tonight.”

After the introductions and small talk the two of you hit it off right away, it helped that Gia and her date were more interested in each other than remembering that the people they brought also existed. The more you talked the more Mike came out of his shell, he wasn’t as shy as you first pegged him to be. Your heel was slowly caressing his calf, neither of you were quite sure when it had ended up there but he wasn’t complaining.

“A man in uniform is hot.” Your flirting was a little rusty, but it seemed to be working just fine for you.

“It’s just a security gig.” He shrugged it off, maintaining eye contact with you the whole time.

You grabbed the straw of your drink, wrapped your tongue around it, and took a sip. Mike choked slightly but covered it up with a cough, adjusting his pants under the table at the same time.

“She’s not going to go home with him unless I go home with you.” You whispered in his ear as you leaned over the table, tangling your fingers in his hair to trick Gia into thinking you were whispering something dirty. “I’d really like to go home with you.”

You could feel the heat creep up his neck, his face was flushed. His heart might as well be on the outside of his chest with the intensity that it was beating, it’d been a long time since he’d been on a date or even gotten laid but Abby was at home and that just wouldn’t work.

“Uhm, my sister’s at home, can we go to your place?” Mike’s saliva was thick and pooling in his mouth, it felt almost impossible to swallow. He had to be dreaming, this just didn’t make sense otherwise. He was just doing his friend a favor and now your breath was hot on his neck and his jeans were uncomfortably tight.

The second the two of you walked outside he got fidgety, like he was going to take off the second you let go of his hand. Frankly he was surprised you hadn’t let go of it the second you picked it up, he was dripping sweat from the moment he realized you were his date. He quickly made a mental note to send a letter to the company who made his preferred deodorant, the fact that he didn’t smell absolutely putrid spoke volumes on their product.

“So did you mean what you said inside? Because I’m perfectly okay with just going home.”

“I meant it, don’t be so nervous.” You smiled back at him, handing him the keys to your car.

The tension was thick, his knuckles were white as he tried to keep his focus on the road ahead and making it back to your place safely and not the fingers drawing figures on his thigh as you spoke about something he couldn’t quite grasp.

Your place wasn’t too far from the restaurant that Gia’s date had picked, that Mike was thankful for. The longer he had to endure the torture that was your fingers on this thighs, the less his ability to be a gentleman and control himself existed. If it was up to him, he’d probably just pulled over and fucked you in the backseat of your own car but it wasn’t. He was a gentleman, he’d just met you all of a few hours ago, he knew better.

“This is the place.” You smiled softly as he pulled into your driveway.

“It’s nice.” He stated, handing your car keys back to you and taking your hand. “Suits you.”

Mike’s eyes wandered the walls, taking in every aspect of you, as you led him through the house. It didn’t take him long to notice that you lived alone, another thing he was now thankful for. His fingers trailed the zipper of your dress as he stood behind you in your bedroom, his other hand rubbing your arm and leaving goosebumps in its wake.

“Are you going to take it off?” Your voice was shaky and quiet, for the first time tonight you were nervous.

“And you thought I was the eager one.” He chuckled, tugging your hair back softly to give him just enough access to your face to make eye contact with you. “Do you get off on bringing strangers to your home and having them fuck you?”

A soft whimper escaped your lips, blessing the ears of the man behind you who responded with a groan. His lips made contact with your neck, biting and sucking at any of the skin he had access to. The hand that was holding your hair back made itself busy drawing the zipper of your dress further and further down until it couldn’t go any further, you shivered as the cold air hit your back.

Mike detached himself from your neck and took a step back, briefly admiring how disheveled you looked despite still being fully dressed, he made a quick motion for you to turn around and you obliged almost immediately. If you got his dick any harder it might’ve fallen off before he ever got the chance to use it.

He backed you into the bed, laying you down and sliding your dress off and into a pile on the floor. Another deep groan was emitted into the air as he took in the sight in front of him, you hadn’t worn a bra and the underwear you’d chosen left nothing to the imagination. Mike immediately started thanking whatever god was above for you and the experience he was about to have.

Your heart was pounding out of your chest. Truthfully, you hadn’t planned on sleeping with anyone tonight but then you saw him and your entire plan was flipped upside down. You lied about your friend not going home with her date if you didn’t leave with him, you didn’t want him to think you were desperate but he knew now. The second he touched the zipper of your dress, anything left of your facade was gone. You needed him.

“If you weren’t so fucking wet I would’ve thought you were only doing me a favor.” He spoke nonchalantly, rubbing his finger over your folds through your underwear. “ Or maybe you’re just a whore? Huh?”

“For you.” You choked out, words getting caught in your throat over his words.

At the beginning of the night you would’ve placed money on the fact that he wasn’t capable of things like this, it was like another side of him had come out during the drive to your house. You weren’t complaining, his words were getting to you in a way you’d never experienced.

“Yeah? For me? Mikey’s own personal whore.” He slipped your underwear to the side and slid his finger through your folds, collecting your juices and bringing them to his mouth. “You’re as sweet as you look, need a honey jar full of you.”

You cried out at him softly, trying to use anything you had to stop his teasing. He was winding you up but edging you right before you could pop, he could’ve said anything and you would’ve agreed just to get him to fuck you. Being this desperate for a man you hardly knew was an exhilarating experience.

“Please, I need you.” You whined, grabbing at his shirt in a desperate plea. “Please.”

“Good job using your words, pretty girl.” Mike praised, hooking his fingers in the waistband of your underwear and pulling them down, throwing them in the same pile as your dress.

His clothes soon joined yours on the floor, a small pout emerging when you realized you wouldn’t be able to suck him off, his eyes catching yours as he climbed up your body. He kissed his way up, biting occasionally. Fingers tracing your skin just as you had done to him earlier in the night, lighting a fire on your skin as they went. It was like his body was made to fit yours, like your souls had searched for each other through every lifetime and yet this was the first time they had met.

His lips finally met yours for the first time, teeth nipping at your bottom lip as he pulled away to breathily whisper something in your ear. You shook your head in agreement at whatever he said, as long as he kept touching you like that and making noises in your ear you’d agree to anything he said to you.

Shaking your head yes was the best decision you’d made so far, you felt two fingers slip inside of you. Thrusting for a few moments before they were replaced by the tip of his cock, slowly pushing in as his mouth found one of your nipples. The gentle man you had once perceived had been replaced by a god who was hung like a horse, splitting you in half with the cock fit for a god.

“Fuck.” Mike moaned, tipping his head back when he bottomed out, taking your legs and placing them on his shoulders. “So good, pretty girl.”

Anything you had planned on responding with quickly dissipated the second he pulled out and thrusted back in, a low groan coming out insead. His fingers were digging into your thighs as he held them up where he wanted them, all you could hope for was the imprints bruising as a reminder that this actually happened. What hair that wasn’t sticking to his skin from the sweat covering it was dangling backwards freely, all his focus was on not cumming too soon and if he continued to look at you he definitely would.

Your eyes had glossed over a long time ago, tears streaming down the sides as a byproduct of the blissful state his cock had put you in, fingers gripping desperately at the sheets and your tits bouncing with each thrust. He was once again praying to every god that he would get to do this another time, then he could sear the image of you under him into his mind.

“Mike, Mikey I need..” You whined, the knot in your stomach twisting and turning, threatening to spill before you could even finish a coherent thought.

“C’mon pretty girl, you can do it, let it go.” He praised you, bringing his thumb down to your clit and drawing figure eights in time with his thrusts to help your orgasm spill over.

His words were the final piece in the puzzle, your orgasm hitting you soon after he spoke. Legs shaking, mind blowing, tears, and silent moans was all your body could do at the supernova your orgasm had proved to be. You’d never cum this hard before but if every orgasm after didn’t measure up, he had ruined you.

“You did so good.” Was all you heard as you came down from your high, Mike’s hands soothed down your hair as he whispered into your ear.

His thrusts continued at the same pace for only a few seconds before his hips stuttered and he painted your insides white.

“I guess tonight wasn’t a total waste.” You joked quietly, turning to the side to smile at him as he laid down next to you.

“We need to do this more often.”

#maddies fics #mike schmidt smut #mike schmidt #mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt x you #mike schmidt fnaf #mike schmidt imagine #vanessa afton #steve raglan #fnaf mike #william afton #michael schmidt #josh hutcherson smut #josh hutcherson #josh hutcherson x reader #josh hutcherson imagine #fnaf 2023 #fnaf smut #fnaf

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planetpiastri · 5 months

Text

pairing: oscar piastri x fem!reader [no faceclaim, reader is faceless] summary: oscar's girlfriend is busy getting her degree, but takes a surprise trip to visit her boyfriend notes: hi i made this like a month ago and it's just been sitting in my drafts bc i couldn't decide if i liked it or not but then i decided hashtag yolo so here it is! enjoy!

liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris, and others

ynusername exam season type beat

view all 187 comments

oscarpiastri Smart and pretty wow I'm a lucky guy

ynusername ☺️🥰😮‍💨

logansargeant Drop out of school join my emo band

ynusername williams doesn't want me

username1 wish you were coming to the race this weekend :(( it's been too long since we've seen you in the paddock

ynusername i agree :(

oscarpiastri

liked by ynusername, landonorris, and 302,137 others

oscarpiastri Bring it on race weekend 👊

view all 1,356 comments

ynusername ...should i be concerned?

landonorris i don't want him!!!!!

ynusername papaya boys 🧡

oscarpiastri Missing our papaya girl 🧡 ynusername AW

username2 what the hell this is so cute 😭

username3 what blackmail does oscar have on lando omg

landonorris bro why'd you make it seem like we're on a date??

oscarpiastri You pulled out my chair and everything 🥰 landonorris i'm never being nice to you again

username4 the flower behind lando's ear?????

oscarpiastri

liked by ynusername, mclaren, and 334,623 others

oscarpiastri What a crazy weekend. P1 in the sprint and P2 on Sunday. Couldn't have done it without my good luck charm 🧡

view all 2,013 comments

mclaren 👏👏👏🧡

landonorris get a room

ynusername we did landonorris ew you keep that to yourself i don't need to know that

ynusername i love uuuuuu ❤️

oscarpiastri Best surprise ever ❤️

ynusername alsooo i passed all my exams!! so it looks like you're my good luck charm too :)

username5 that's the cutest shit i've ever heard 😭 oscarpiastri Lucky us :)

username6 🐐🐐🐐🐐

username7 rookie of the year!!!

liked by oscarpiastri, logansargeant, and others

ynusername the return flight was a lot more fun

view all 193 comments

username8 UGH YOU GUYS ARE SO CUTE

oscarpiastri I could definitely land a plane

ynusername whatever you say dear

mclaren Are we gonna see you back in the paddock soon 👀

ynusername damn mclaren admin let me graduate first!!

username9 the official mclaren account being oscar's wingman???

landonorris am i invited to graduation

oscarpiastri No ynusername maybe

logansargeant Am i invited to graduation

oscarpiastri Yes ynusername Yes landonorris man what the hell

liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris, and others

ynusername I DID IT BITCHESSSSSSSS CERTIFIED HOT AND SMART

view all 268 comments

username10 YES BITCH YES

logansargeant Congrats!! Thanks for the invite!!

ynusername thanks for coming!

oscarpiastri So proud of you ❤️

ynusername thank u loooove the paddock is gonna get so tired of me now oscarpiastri Impossible

landonorris no tag?

ynusername bruh i didn't even tag my boyfriend

mclaren Congrats! Want to put that marketing degree to use?

username11 yo??? ynusername um oscarpiastri Say yes

#oscar piastri #oscar piastri x reader #f1 #f1 smau #f1 social media au #f1 x reader #instagram au #f1 imagine #oscar piastri imagine #f1 instagram au #social media au #oscar piastri au #lando norris #saturn writes

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themisplaceddemigod · 3 months

Note

hi! i saw your post on a hashtag and cheked out your one piece account and its really good! i was wondering if you can write sub!leo valdez smut? have a great day!

thank you :D and sure! i can try my best, i've never written smut before so i hope i did okay this first time!

desperate

Leo Valdez x F!Reader

summary - Leo is the whiniest, most vocal sub you've ever encountered, but you find it cute

warnings - SMUT! sexual themes, sexual acts, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, p in v intercourse

"Fuck! (Name), please!"

You grinned as you teased your boyfriend, slowly rolling your hips against his and watching him squirm as your clothed cunt pressed against his hard, throbbing dick. His pants and boxers had long since been discarded, and now he was whining for you to undress and give him what he wanted the most - your pussy.

"Ah, ah," you tutted, "This is your punishment for smacking my ass in front of all my siblings earlier."

He groaned, whimpering as he bucked his hips upwards, trying to hump you roughly to get himself off faster. You gripped his hips and slammed them back down, leaning towards his neck to press hot, wet kisses as you continued to grind yourself against him, moaning as he whined and begged some more.

"You gonna be a good boy then?" You sat up again, biting your lip. "Are you gonna behave if I strip and fuck your needy dick?"

He nodded frantically, a strangled mix between a moan and a gasp coming out of his mouth, "Yes yes baby please! Please fuck me!" He whined, clawing at your clothes.

You smirked and started stripping down, taking your clothes off slowly to tease him. His dark, lust-filled eyes followed every bit of newly exposed skin, stopping on your hard nipples as your bra came off.

"Baby you're so damn pretty," he moaned, "Wanna feel you on me, squeezing my dick, please...please..." He whimpered, hands roaming your bare body before squeezing your breasts tightly.

You let out a moan, gasping softly at the feeling of his warm hands groping your tits. Your cunt was slick with your juices by now, his whines and his words arousing you to the point where it was hard to keep teasing him. You were about ready to give into his pleading, always happy to sink down on his dick and ride him to heaven and back.

"I guess you deserve it, baby."

You rocked yourself against him once, twice, coating his long, throbbing dick with your juices. He moaned even more, throwing his head back as his hands gripped your waist.

"Baby please stop teasing, you're driving me insane!"

You smirked at that, but finally hovered over him and grabbed his dick, rubbing it a few times to elicit more delicious whines from your vocal lover. When you were satisfied, you lined his dick up with your entrance, moaning softly as his tip prodded it. Then you slowly sank down onto him, easing his dick into your tight, soaked cunt. Your head fell back as he filled you up, your mouth opening and forming an 'o' as you sucked him in. He was breathing so heavily, panting slightly too, as your hips finally met.

"Ready for me to move baby?" You asked teasingly, knowing full well that he was desperate for it.

"YES!" He cried out, "Yes princess please, please move! Want you so bad, need to feel you cum all over my dick!"

His words had you moaning, and you lifted yourself off him before slamming back down, earning a scream of pleasure from the son of Hephaestus, and his hands squeezed your waist. You repeated the action, moaning yourself at the feeling of his cock slipping in and out.

"Faster baby please," he begged. "Need you to move faster!"

You loved how desperate he was for you, how he begged and pleaded you to fuck him. Leo was almost always the sub, mostly because he was always the one who wanted you to fuck him like an animal.

You gave into his request, starting to move faster and bouncing up and down on his dick quicker. Your hands rested on his chest, your ass slapping against his thighs with loud squelches that had you moaning and whimpering as you rode him. Leo was the loudest, his grunts and moans and whines filling the room almost as much. as the wet, sloppy sounds of skin-against-skin. You threw your head back and shut your eyes as you moved faster, riding his dick so roughly that the bed started to creak and the mattress dipped further.

"(Name)!" He moaned your name like a chant, his hands moving up to grab and fondle your perky tits. You moaned at the feeling, combined with the ecstasy of his dick starting to slam against your g-spot as he started bucking up into you while you rode him.

"Leo, fuck!" You gasped, feeling your orgasm quickly building up. You whined and moved faster, ass hitting his thighs harder as you chased your release.

He was babbling and moaning incoherently, toying with your breasts as he watched you bouncing yourself on his cock through half-lidded eyes. The sight was incredibly arousing, and it was taking Leo every ounce of will he had to keep from filling you with his seed right then and there.

"So good, fuck," he moaned, "You feel so good on me, princess. Your pussy's so fucking good!"

You moaned louder at his words, bouncing yourself on him faster and harder and rougher. You leaned down to kiss him hard, slipping your tongue into his mouth as your tits pressed against his own. You kept rolling your hips against his, rocking against him wildly as you made out sloppily, your mouths a mess of tongue and teeth against each other. Both of you were gasping, moaning, panting, and the room was filled with the scent of sex and those lewd sounds.

"Gonna cum!" You whined, your pussy clenching around him so hard that he knew you were ready to coat his dick in your cum. Your thrusts became sloppy and unco-ordinated, choked whines and moans leaving your lips as you pressed wet kisses down his neck and along his shoulder. "Cum with me baby, wanna feel you fill me up with your cum..."

Those words elicited a moan so loud that you feared anyone passing by might hear, and you clamped a hand over his mouth, "Come on baby, quieter now. Can't have the whole camp knowing I'm fucking you senseless in here. It IS against the rules, after all."

And that was it for Leo. He came hard, dick spurting his warm semen into your cunt and filling you up completely. You moaned loudly and joined him, cumming just as hard as you creamed around his dick, panting heavily as you continued to fuck him through your orgasms, but only briefly.

When you both came down from your highs, Leo whined and pulled you down to lay on him, wrapping his arms around you. He stayed inside, pressing gentle kisses to your shoulders.

"I love it when you dominate, baby," he grinned weakly into your neck. "You're so fucking hot."

#leo valdez #heroes of olympus #hoo #percy jackson #pjo #pjo hoo #leo valdez x reader #leo valdez x you #hoo leo valdez #pjo smut #hoo smut #leo valdez smut

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leclvrc · 1 year

Text

a couple (of besties) ♡ cl x reader

summary: you've been best friends since you were babies so naturally people ship you

requested? yes/no

yourusername added to their story

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, pierregasly, scuderiaferrari and 102.291 others

yourusername incredibly proud of everything this legend achieved this weekend 🙌🏻 I, of course, take most of the credit as his lucky charm but I suppose he's decent behind the wheel 💞

view all 981 comments

scuderiaferrari we might have to invite you every weekend from now on 😂

charleslechair his lucky charm....

peargasly HIS! LUCKY! CHARM!

charles_leclerc decent? 🤔

yourusername yes. you know satisfactory. respectable. standard. maybe even above average if I'm generous

charles_leclerc "above average" that one is new

yourusername 🤦‍♀️

smoothoperator FLIRTING??? RIGHT IN FRONT OF MY SALAD??

leclercupdates 👀👀👀

pierregasly charles sees a pretty girl and he can drive again!

yourusername whomst are u calling pretty here mr gasly

francisca.cgomes what she said

charles_leclerc you are in trouble mon ami 😂

charles_leclerc

liked by yourusername, scuderiaferrari, arthur_leclerc and 592.291 others

charles_leclerc dump 🗑

view all 6.291 comments

smoothoperator charles can read?? sounds fake but ok

liked by yourusername, pierregasly

peargasly dunno who I'm more jealous of 😢 the dog or y/n or pierre but I'm VERY jealous

leclerc_ with pierre he serves hostage realness but look at how he looks at y/n in the first pic 😭😭

charlos HOSTAGE REALNESS SJAKJSKAKS

peargasly he looks at y/n like she's the center of his universe I'M SICK

tifosi16 man didn't include a single race pic he's so done 😭

yourusername he's calling us trash AGAIN @.pierregasly

francisca.cgomes is he wrong?

yourusername kika you used to be my favourite 😢

pierregasly ^^

yourusername

liked by pierregasly, arthur_lelcerc, scuderiaferrari and 291.111 others

yourusername some things never change (ft. my best friend ❤)

view all 821 comments

peargasly no shut up this is so cuteeee

smoothoperator CHARLES LEANING IN. OK.

leah_leclerc notice how charles isn't even tagged or liked this.. I swear if y'all ruin their friendship 🗡🗡

hamiltvn hashtag just bestie things?

charlito his finger is literally almost in her mouth how are they JUST friends

tifosi16 guys she called them a couple of besties on twitter

gr63 yeah maybe we should stop. maybe she's uncomfortable

pierregasly this is too cute. delete it

yourusername you're just jealous 😁

arthur_lelcerc where was I here?

yourusername you weren't even PLANNED my guy

bigbadwolff she bodied him 💀

comments on this post have been limited

yourusername

liked by pierregasly, francisca.cgomes and 201.291 others

yourusername living like tomorrow doesn't exist 🥂

view all 711 comments

hamiltvn SHE'S IN NYC???

charleslechair charles and y/n friendship dead in the water but at least she looks hot 🤕

peargasly SHE'S SO PRETTY LOOK AT HER !!

francisca.cgomes girls night?

yourusername ofc but pierre isn't allowed 😉

comments on this post have been limited

charles_leclerc added to their story

charles_leclerc

liked by yourusername, pierregasly, arthur_lelcerc and 592.101 others

charles_leclerc nyc dump 🗑💓

view all 7.191 comments

yourusername at least you added a heart this time 😤

charles_leclerc ❤

yourusername yeah yeah I love you too

peargasly KISS KISS KISS KISS KISS KISS KISS

pierregasly finally 🙌🏻🙌🏻

yourusername kika come get ur bf he's annoying 😐

francisca.cgomes we have waited so long y/n 😚

yourusername nvm you both are bad. get out!!

arthur_lelcerc ew 🤢

yourusername children aren't allowed on here

liked by pierregasly, charles_leclerc

leah_leclerc y'all... were onto something the fuck

leclerc_ I love winning fr

charlos ten bucks he's looking at y/n in 3 and 4

liked by charles_leclerc

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, pierregasly, francisca.cgomes and 421.191 others

yourusername some things do change (ft. my boyfriend @.charles_leclerc ❤)

view all 5.291 comments

charles_leclerc I like that caption 🙌🏻

yourusername you better bc u were sulking when i called u my best friend when you came to nyc 😤

peargasly HE WAS SULKING 😭

charleslechair man got sick of the friendzone LMAO

francisca.cgomes beautiful couple ❤

yt22 shut up... the childhood pic next to THAT

hamiltvn crying screaming throwing up chewing on glass THEY'RE SO CUTE

smoothoperator they're the embodiment of sometimes you realize later in life what is right in front of u 😭

liked by yourusername, charles_leclerc

#f1 social media au #f1 instagram au #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc imagine #**mine #**requests #this was sm fun

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celestie0 · 3 months

Text

𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

please read my blog’s rules before proceeding to my works! happy reading!

note 1. if you want to read through asks from readers that i’ve answered for any of my series, you can search with just the hashtag of the fic’s name! (ex #kickoff or #in another life, etc. w spaces if applicable!)

note 2. i don’t have a set update schedule for any of my stories, i basically just update whenever i finish chapters. if the story is still listed here, then it’s still ongoing and has not been discontinued

⟦ 𝗰𝗵𝗼𝗼𝘀𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗾𝘂𝗲𝘀𝘁! ⟧ ↓ ↓ ↓

𝗴𝗼𝗷𝗼 𝘀𝗮𝘁𝗼𝗿𝘂

kickoff [updated 3.15.24, wc 72.6k] ∘ soccer player gojo 𝗑 film major reader — college au | fluff, angst, smut ➸ masterlist

quest. gojo satoru is the most popular guy on your college campus. he's tall, funny, hot, not to mention he's the most talented soccer forward the school has seen in years. but he's also a frat dude, which puts him in a world very different from your own, as he spends most of his nights partying & drinking while you spend most of yours working on your annoying film major assignments. but when he reaches out to you for a favor, you realize that helping him out might have something in it for you too.

in holy matriphony [updated 4.20.24, wc 7.8k] ∘ neighbor & realtor gojo x nurse reader — fake marriage au | fluff, angst, smut ➸ ch1 :: ch2 (pending)

quest. gojo satoru is your extremely annoying next-door-neighbor who you're pretty sure is the most insufferable man you've ever met. given the fact that you exclusively work the night shift at a chaotic emergency dept, just got broken up with your boyfriend of seven years, n have been taking care of your sick mom ever since her multitude of diagnoses, yet somehow your neighbor is the main source of stress in your life should speak volumes. but when your mother's medical bills start to skyrocket more than you can manage, and you learn that said neighbor of yours has the best private health insurance in the country, you ask him to enter a matrimonial agreement with you for the spousal benefits all in the name of saving a few hundred thousand dollars. but you'll have to see if suffering cohabitation w him is worth any amount of money.

𝗰𝗵𝗼𝘀𝗼 𝗸𝗮𝗺𝗼

in another life [updated 4.4.24, wc 10.2k] ∘ bass player choso 𝗑 reader ft. fiancé nanami — punk rock au | fluff, angst, smut ➸ ch1 :: ch2 (pending)

quest. you and choso were lovers in college when him and his rock band were just nobodies with nothing but a dream, but when his band strikes a deal with an up-and-coming record label in tokyo, you make the tough decision to break up with him since you couldn’t go with him to the city. flash forward seven years, his band is the biggest rock band in the world, n you move from the countryside to tokyo with your fiancé nanami to start your new life together. but in the heart of the city, home to many, there’s one person there that still has the power to turn your whole life upside down. and when you run into him again after all those years, feelings you didn’t know were still haunting you come crashing back all at once, and you’re not sure what it is you want from your life anymore.

[these are all the ongoing series i have rn!]

#jujutsu kaisen fanfiction #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #gojo smut #nanami kento #nanami x reader #nanami smut #toji fushiguro #toji x reader #toji smut #fanfiction #jjk smut #anime #fluff #angst #masterlist #navigation

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wonderfulwonderrful · 6 months

Text

Season of Love (1/?)

+18 | Toto x reader fem!teamprincipal

Summary: One night on a pier in Monaco, while admiring the sea under the night skies, you told Toto, "I came to the conclusion that love is simply not meant for me." That was the answer to a question you have been asking yourself for the longest time. But what if he proved you wrong. Pairing: Toto Wolff x reader team principal. Genre: Romance, comedy, and some good drama. Author's note: Hi, fam! I'm nervous since this is my very first fanfic. I have been following this tag for a while now, and I got so inspired by all the talent here that I went and wrote my own story. Please be kind to me. English is my second language. I will upload chapters regularly - using this hashtag and on #seasonoflovefic. I have been dealing with anxiety the entire year; writing this has been part of my healing process. I hope you like it. (By the way, this story is fun and light-spirited.)

Dances With Wolff Arc Chapter 1: Engines on and hearts off!

Bahrain

It is a hot and sunny day in Bahrain. Golden hour is set, and every single person in the paddock seems to be in a rush. It is the usual chaos every pre-season brings.

Toto makes his way through the sea of people, cables, tire carts, and cameras at his regular pace - which means those toned and long legs going full speed - rocking this year's Mercedes kit and a new pair of designer sunglasses, phone in hand when it buzzes.

—Breaking news: After lengthy negotiations during the break, the De Vos Group acquired Williams Racing - as speculated. New female owner Y/N De Vos will be joining the paddock this season. The team's principal will soon be announced. Check our exclusive first look with her.

Toto reads on his iPhone after tapping the Sky Sports push notification, slowing his pace a second. He raises an eyebrow and gazes around, noticing many people in the packed pitlane doing the same, slowing the frenzy on the floor for a close bit.

He reaches out for his pockets and puts on the Bose earbuds before hitting the play button. Curiosity is overpowering him - and, honestly, excitement, too - as he looks at the preview thumbnail. A stunning, tan-skinned woman with great, shiny hair and a beautiful smile appears in front of the microphone with a smug smirk.

—God, she's gorgeous —Toto lets out to himself. Continuing his way to the Mercedes garage. This year, it is located one spot before Williams and following Ferrari's.

Finally, something exciting, someone new. After years of dominating the game, trying not to sound too egomaniac, every season starts to feel like routine to him. Toto is hitting a personal low, avoiding calling it what it is: depression mixed with boredom, especially this season and at this moment in his life. Same old tracks, same old challenges, same old people, same old ways, same old Toto.

You answer the interviewer's questions with ease. You are very well-spoken in his eyes like you are used to doing press or public speaking, and you have a cheeky sense of humor. Toto gets captivated, to say the least. He puts his phone into his back pocket and continues walking while listening to your interview, muffling the paddock's noise.

You have a soft voice, a professional speech pattern, and excellent enunciation, reinforcing Toto's idea of you being trained at it. He detects some accent but can't figure out where it is from. He listens to the whole thing; it's impossible for him not to sigh at the stupid questions they ask you a couple of times. The more Toto listens, the more questions he has for you in his mind. He may get them answers later when he finally meets you.

So far, you seem like a breeze of fresh air, and Toto is desperate to breathe you.

And yeah, no question Williams looks different. Toto, as usual, ventures to inspect more than he should - and is allowed to - taking a good peek at your brand-new garage. Knowing quite well, he also is hoping to spot you in person.

The garage looks tech and minimalistic, matching your new modern W logo. Whites, blacks, and touches of grey colors predominated. The lighting, screens, and interior design look so futuristic, expensive, and dope; it's a whole vibe. It is a sexy garage! A phrase he never imagined using. What F1 has done to a man?

Toto can feel the desperate modernity Williams once needed and the resources. Of course, he knew firsthand the Williams family was looking to sell after years of struggling to win races and its economics. Toto remained neutral throughout the process, informed but not too involved. He had felt a little indifferent about the entire ordeal till now.

He hopes not to sound insensitive. Of course, he has a special place in his heart for that team and its people, he first started there, but the businessman side of him knows it is the right call and best for them. Of course, it's sad, but that is the game: evolve or die.

He knows his investment is in good hands because last he had heard, and in Niki's words, it got acquired by a Belgian zillionaire, and Niki reassured him it was a perfect choice. He was respectable and trustworthy, and Toto didn't need to know more. But this sudden change - and announcement - took him a bit by surprise. Little did he know.

Gossip and theories fill the paddock. Supporters and haters - already - are all over social media, typing divided opinions as usual. It is the talk of the town, and you, you are the center of it at this point; there is more to come.

Toto greets his team on his way to his chair, already inside Merc's garage after doing his little on-site research. A couple of pats on the back and hugs later, he makes himself comfortable in his spot while catching up with Bono.

Just as Toto is about to place the headphones on his head, the corner of his eyes caught Samanta, better known as "Sam" - a beautiful, thin, young, pale-skin, platinum blondie - Niki's assistant, hugging you goodbye and walking towards him.

You wave Niki hello from afar and on your way to the W garage.

For the briefest moment, Toto's eyes and yours met. You are more petite than he expects. And you dress very classy and minimal but with a sexy touch. You match the new identity of Williams, or well, Williams matches your style. The Jacquemus "La robe saudade" dress you wear hugs your curves, accentuating your beautiful toned legs and great ass. He couldn't avoid staring you down as you walked past. Sometimes, he was just a simple man.

Toto suddenly feels the Arabic heat rushing through his body.

—Getting up close with the enemy, tearing down its walls, I like your style, evil as I would expect from you —he says to Sam, now next to him, as she takes off her access badge and picks up her tablet from a drawer.

—Bok, dumb. No bad blood! Just a friendly welcome to this testosterone hell, you know, girls being supportive of one another. I'm pretty sure you will like her, and judging by that look you just gave her, I guess you already.

—Začepi, dumber —Toto answers in his usual authoritarian and collected deep voice, but jokingly. He feels his cheeks turning red. —Spill how, when…

—We were roomies a long time ago. I adore her, she's great, strong, intelligent, kind, fun, and so damn hot. That's all you need to know for now, and that's all I'm telling you.

Sam is the youngest daughter of the Dobrev heirs, a very wealthy and old-money Croatian - almost royal - family who owns multiple fleets and half the country, like filthy rich. They are famous for being all platinum blondes, having many scandals, and investing in motor and water sports. They are one of the main Mercedes-AMG sponsors.

As far as Toto knows, Sam doesn't have the best relationship with her family and dislikes talking about it, but he knows she cares a lot about her elder brother, to whom Toto hears her speak on the phone now and then.

After years and years of working and traveling the world together, Sam lets her walls down with Toto, becoming great friends and this sort of family away from family, although she remains pretty reserved on some subjects. He loves her like a little sister. She is pretty younger than him and sometimes reminds him of his own sister. Niki always describes them two as his annoying children, always teasing and bickering at each other when possible. The old man cares so much for them personally and at work, and they do, too.

Toto wonders if by "old roomie" she means ex-girlfriend? He has met some of Samanta's "roomies," and… Toto doesn't feel like pushing. He wonders if you may have someone... You know... As team principal, he has to learn about other teams' dynamics, right?

He tosses the thought off and gets in the zone. They have another title to win.

You hug Samanta goodbye and take a glance at the Merc garage. Sam is family to you, and you heard so much about them and F1 over the years, ever since she moved out of the Manor after having that massive fight with her parents and started working for Mercedes-AMG, swearing to make a living of her own and never needing them EVER again, a bit over dramatic reaction but that who Sam is and you love her that way.

She is also your bestie; you two text each other daily. Thanks to her, you knew everything about everyone in the paddock: the good and bad, scandals, and more. Yet they knew nothing about you. For them, you are brand new and the perfect excuse to gossip about.

And there he is, Torger Christian Wolff, the guy Sam couldn't stop gushing you about. Damn, she is right, Toto is gorgeous. You would feel slightly jealous of their closeness if he wasn't Sam's cup of tea. But you can't get distracted; you have a purpose for being there, and nothing will get in the middle. Even if you are dying to meet him, even if you treasure every detail you know about Toto, even if you have been fantasizing about him for the longest time, not to mention being half in love with the man already or the idea of him. Sam made him sound like such a remarkable and caring human being.

Niki waves hello to you from afar, and you wave back. You adore that old man. He is one of the reasons why the Williams family agreed to sell you the team. Without his support, it wouldn't have been possible.

You met Niki two winters ago; thanks to Sam, you explained to him your motives and why you wanted to buy a team, and he fully agreed to support you and mentor you throughout the whole process. He is a badass and one of the kindest people you have ever met. You immediately felt embraced by the Laudas. Along with Sam, they are among the very few people who know your entire story and genuinely know you, the real you.

Back to the present day. You feel Toto's dark eyes set on you and can't resist ignoring them even if your life depends on it, so you look back at him. For the briefest moment, your eyes met. The desert is too hot, isn't it? Uff, what's going on with this heat? Damn you global warming!

So you better hurry yourself away before it is too late and you dare to get closer to him. You reach your new team's garage at the speed of light, so it is fittable for the place you are at. It feels weird saying "your" so much.

Everything is so different from the world you are used to, but you don't feel nervous. You are a woman on a mission, and after all you have gone through in life, you are not that kind of girl. You bear a challenge.

You greet your team. —He hasn't arrived yet? —you ask the aero performance engineer while he is placing green and yellow dots on the left side of the new car. You reached close to inspect the latest upgrades.

The car is beautiful, matte black with a powerful Lamborghini engine. They are your main sponsor and partner and the only one, which is insanely impressive. No million logos, no visual noise - it is something to see due to F1 budgets.

Commotion and gasps come from the outside. While you ask the engineer that question, a frenzy starts in the front of the garages. You watch camerapersons and fans pass by, running crazy. Total mayhem.

Oh, there he is.

Toto's phone buzzes again - in the middle of that circus - "Breaking news; The legend is BACK. Michael Schumacher joins Williams as Team Principal, son Mick Schumacher, and the sensation of the moment, female driver Millie Dobrev joins him along as drivers."

The FIA, in its many attempts to be perceived as "forward" or "woke," has allowed for the first time mixed-gender racing, starting this season - about damn time! Millie is one of the top female drivers and the youngest, achieving a lot at a young age and becoming a serious threat to everyone on her way.

—Dobrev… Dobrev?! —Toto looks from the photo on his phone screen to Sam and back; a very young petite girl - with sun-kissed skin, short platinum blonde hair with pink ends and clear blue eyes, a round face with delicate features - poses in a pastel color outfit doing a Korean heart gesture with her hands, fingers full of expensive jewelry. —Care to explain?

—Yes, did I mention she's my dear niece? —Sam answers, deadpan.

—The fuck —Toto says —Are all blond Croatians your family? —Toto teases.

—Hilariously accurate —she laughs it off.

—Your niece?! You are like twelve, how old is she, two!? Can't believe you are an aunt already. I don't know what to do with that fact..."

Samanta rolls her eyes. "Thank my gross old uncle with a young trophy wife?" she thinks.

—So you keep secrets from me, huh? I thought ours was special.

—You give yourself too much importance. And yes, that's why my hair grew bigger during the break. It's full of secrets! —Sam replies. Swinging her long, straight locks.

—What??? —Toto doesn't get her Mean Girls reference.

—Sometimes I forget you are prehistoric, almost fossil.

They both fulminate each other with gazes in a classic and frequent stare-down. Then Sam proceeds to cross tasks on her tablet, slowly stepping away.

—Don't you dare run away from me! You have things to explain, missy.

—Sorry, I'm so busy right now, unlike you.

—I'm busy.

—No, you are not; you are trying to gossip!

—I'm always busy. I'm this team's principal, to remind you, so yes, I'm important, and maybe… maybe… I'm trying to gossip… a little bit —Toto gestures with his hand.

—Could you two stop?! —Niki calls it quits, half annoyed, half laughing, struggling to hear clearly what the tactics team is trying to tell him, turning around on his barstool and waving his hand at them.

Toto and Sam laugh softly, and Toto makes a small O with his mouth while Sam pretends to adjust her invisible tie before returning to business and being professional people doing professional tasks.

Toto looks once more at his phone screen. —Impressive —it's all he lets out. Toto can't wait. He can't wait.

It's been a long time since Michael set foot on the paddock, after years of being retired and living almost exclusively to recover - after his infamous accident - and trying to enjoy being a father and a husband when possible. He became this mythical figure that existed in F1 and people's minds but is nowhere to be seen, making him feel like a ghost. Nowadays, he is doing way better but was getting bored of being a recluse at home waiting for the right moment, for that one sign that make it all start over for him.

And there she is, in front of him, doing a fake courtesy.

—Welcome back, Kaiser —you joke with him.

—Hi, boss! —Michael greets you with a thick German accent and sweet voice. —Sorry about that! —He pushes you aside as a photographer flashes photos. The lens almost hits you in the face while two other cameramen bump into each other. —Better if we go inside. There's lots to talk about and to get ready to start testing. This is bonkers! —he finishes saying, looking at the circus surrounding you two.

—Okay. Let's go then, Schumi —you reply to him.

You feel ready.

The testing goes out smoothly for Mercedes. There are just a few sensor improvements and small details to fix, but only a little to worry about. Lewis and George seem happy with their car's performance, and the team feels optimistic.

As for Toto, his day was stressful; he felt exhausted after many meetings and people asking him questions all day, demanding his attention at all times. The hours went at an alarming speed. Somehow, the day is done, but the amount of work has just started. He blinks and is dark already, and the chauffeur is now driving him to his suite in a high-end hotel.

Tomorrow is a crucial day for the team, and his schedule is full of press, too. So he needs a good night of beauty sleep; at the moment, he looks like trash and feels like it. Toto likes to keep it real. He loves the attention of being under the reflectors and calling the shots but still isn't a massive fan of media day.

Speaking of the devil, he takes out his phone and opens his news app. Toto relaxes in the big luxury car seat. He has bookmarked several sites that cover F1, his long, unhealthy habit. He likes to stay current, even if he has "briefing" and a person in charge of doing that.

Even though he doesn't want to feel like a stalker, he pretty much is acting like it. Toto refreshes the app to read the latest news about Williams and you. He learns all he can of you from the newly released press articles; there is little about your background, past, or in general; all he keeps reading appears to be PR-approved since it is constantly reprised on different platforms, which feels weird.

Google doesn't offer him much either, just a couple of articles with photos in which you appear in various charity events related to children's foundations. It is like you don't exist online.

Toto reads your most recent interview and Michael's, and you both appear in good spirits about your car performance. He hates losing but loves a good challenge. A good old-fashioned on-track battle. For a change.

The bellboy opens the suite's double doors for him and carries Toto's things inside. It is a massive entrance and makes him feel tiny in comparison. Toto notices a small LV suitcase in front of the large door, next to a big antique wooden carved table, in the middle of the foyer under the soft dim coming from a stunning Tiffany's chandelier, which lits the room and reflects on the exquisite tile walls. The Arabic architecture and interior design of the place are breathtaking.

It means Susie has stopped by. Their relationship is in a weird spot, in one of those hiccups they face occasionally after dating forever and from a very young age. Their relationship at the moment feels monotonous, and love is lacking, which is slowly killing him. He still loves her very much but could sense he is losing her. Especially since they started seeing each other less and less - although he wouldn't blame anyone who has to bear with his crazy schedule - they almost stopped texting and talking to each other, too, and sex is nonexistent. So many red flags.

—Hi, schatzi —Toto greets her.

—Hi, Toto —she gives him a quick kiss. —You look tired.

—I am, but I'm happy you are here —he says, wrapping his arms around her waist and resting his temple on hers. Soon after, he lifts Sussie from the ground into a tight hug. There is a clear height difference.

—I know. I'm happy to see you too, even if it's for a brief moment. I was hoping you got free sooner. Our jet has permission to take off in an hour exactly.

—I'm sorry, today was crazy —Toto apologizes.

—I can imagine. I tried to communicate with you earlier, but it was impossible to reach you; it was almost like you were avoiding me.

God, she knows him so well. Yes, he has been avoiding her - although not today, he honestly had a crazy day - but since they had that awkward and hurtful conversation at their New Year's Eve reception at their house in Oxford. Not because he is angry at her or scared, he misses her a lot. It's just he has been unable to decide and come up with an answer to the situation.

—I wanted to clear things out between us before the start of the season. I'm aware that from now on, you only get busier and more challenging to reach, and my schedule this year is also insane, Sussie says.

—Yes, love. Tell me what you need?

—Your thoughts.

—On what? —Toto pretends to be confused and not get what she is referring to.

—Come on, Torger. Would you like me to remind you of our last conversation at New Year's?

Silence.

The last time they saw each other in person was months ago. He panicked after that conversation and left for Austria, calling it a business trip and a visit to his sister to spend time with his nephews. She didn't follow him around. Because it was clear he was running away and needed time alone without her.

—So... as I mentioned to you that night... You wanted to try for children this year, and I let you know I didn't see that happening this year or any year. And that I have been feeling increasingly lonely since you spent most of your days away. Honestly, every day, we spend more time away from each other. My career keeps taking off, and I'm not raising children on my own amidst it! I can't even imagine the idea of being pregnant to start with! Plus, you said there's no way you are quitting your job, and I'm neither, so...

—I didn't say that. That's not how it went —Toto feels his head hurting now. He rubs his forehead, exasperated hearing Sussie's Director's Cut version of the events. "It went more like this: I don't get your full attention at all times like before, I'm not able to control you as I once did, and every time you ask me to spend time together, me traveling to you or you traveling to me, if it's not the way I want it I always come up with something to avoid it. Plus, I never mentioned to you before that I didn't want children, not once in the thousand times we discussed family and raising kids together, ah! And I always blame your job as the reason why things aren't working between us." That's how it happened, Toto thinks.

—The point is... —Sussie ignores him. Throwing him a look. —We didn't reach a middle ground but chose not to break things off immediately because none of us felt sure.

There is a pause and a big exhale from her.

—That's why I suggested exploring having an open relationship. We would establish rules and limits. I know you are more traditional and don't envision this for us, but I wanted you to think about it and give it a chance, not to run away and avoid me after suggesting it. I don't want to hurt you. I don't want to be with someone else behind your back because I still love you, and I want us to work. I feel we both need someone who is present in our lives to touch us and hold us when we feel like it.

Toto feels crushed. All he wants is to settle down, start a family, and become a good father - as his father was to him - he never expected Sussie to go in the opposite direction. His intention has never been to make her choose between a career or kids. This isn't the case. It is going to be a two-person job. Besides that, they have all the privileges, resources, and support to successfully achieve being both parents and having careers simultaneously. —This isn't the right moment for this conversation. I had an...

—It's never the right moment for you! Christ's sake, Toto! I..! —Sussie starts losing it and gets emotional. He can't avoid feeling miserable. Suddenly, Toto felt the day's weight on his shoulders and back, which was killing him now; he needed a soft mattress to lay down so desperately. He doesn't want to make the drama bigger.

—Okay, easy, love —he hugs her. —I will think about it and give you an answer this week.

—You promise? Won't you run away from it anymore?

—I promise. I won't.

—This week, Toto! —Sussie wipes her tears, hugs him once more, and kisses him goodbye. —Let me know.

—Yes, this week. I will.

She grabs her suitcase and exits through the doors. Toto drags himself to bed with the remains of his energy, tosses his phone on the wireless charger nightstand, and lets himself drop on the mattress, face down. As he drifts away, a new notification red dot appears in the news app.

Now, an open relationship looks like an acceptable idea.

He falls asleep.

The view from your suite is impressive. Bahrain's entire skyline of modern skyscrapers is lit under the night skies, and the desert surrounding it looks beautiful through the floor-to-ceiling panoramic windows.

It isn't your first time in Western Asia, but your first time traveling so far from home on your own. This hotel is insanely expensive, and the suite is humongous for you by yourself. If you weren't so used to inhabiting a massive, almost empty Manor with you as your own company, you would have felt anxious in such an isolated, huge, and quiet space.

It is already late at night to text Samanta and meet her to chat. You both have work tomorrow and need to rest. But you have so much to catch up on - since yesterday? - No, but seriously, a lot had happened during your first day at the paddock.

As you are relaxing in the bathtub - you chose a bath bomb made of sea salt soap and local herbs with delicious scents - you let your mind go through all the day's events. You can't stop thinking of that pair of dark eyes going all over your body. You wanted to do the same. You wanted to admire him all.

You have created many scenarios of what it would be like to meet him. But it went so differently than what you pictured. He doesn't even know who you are or doesn't even care about you. You two could become friends in the future, but for now, your feelings for him are all over the place, and you don't wish to let your heart shatter, not again. Besides, he has Sussie - of course, you have no idea what those two are going through - and you, well, who would want to be with you and your whole "situation"? Your chances with him are zero minus a hundred.

You do your skincare routine before sending yourself to bed - for sure, you will be visiting the hotel's spa in the following days - already dreading tomorrow, a day full of meetings and interviews, you are slightly nervous about what the press is going to ask you, even if Michael does the heavy lifting for you in those matters, everyone seems so curious about you.

You turn the lights off and pray for a good night of sleep, free of the frequent nightmares you experience.

The following day, the driver's parade happens inside walls, while all drivers gather together in a small meeting room - a very office-looking space with sad, white-empty walls, gray carpeting, and way too lit up. Cold lighting is the worst! No F1 glamor on sight - this is part of one of the new progressive and "brilliant" ideas from the FIA.

Chaos is unleashed as everyone looks for a chair with their name tag.

—Did everyone see her? —Lando asks loudly to the entire room - filled at the moment just by drivers - He is sitting backward in his chair, on the front row, facing the rest. He is wearing his McLaren kit and cap, which is worn backward.

—Yes, we all did. Unless you live under a rock, you have missed that circus, but coming from you, it wouldn't surprise me —Checo answers, joking.

Lando purposely ignores him and throws him a dirty look and a kiss. —Then, ladies… From 1 to 10, how hard would you bang her? Starting with you, Seb —he asks everyone.

—Seriously, mate? So… sexist… —Vettel answers.

—Come on, bee-guy. What? It's just friendly chit-chat among us drivers, as the FIA would love to remind us, "This meeting's purpose is to establish communications between all teams drivers, their principals, along with the FIA representatives to build relationships and sportsmanship among-"

—Stop reading from the sign, idiot —Carlos says, following Lando's gaze to the sad poster pin crooked on the open door.

—Fine, but let's be honest here: she's the most exciting thing to happen to us in a while, not to mention the most recent. It's not like we are going to admire new guy Yuki's hips. All here have excellent vision, and she looked so FINE like you pervs didn't notice.

—Speak for yourself —Pierre answers jokingly, coming through on his way to his chair, passing in front of Lando in that reduced space, trying not to step on someone. Everyone laughs.

—She is so out of your league anyway; why bother? —Max mentions from the corner, sitting stretched out, his back against the wall, legs on top of the chair beside him. —And I agree with Pierre, Yuki's hips are immaculate, by the way.

—If someone cares, I think my vision is starting to fail me. I will need glasses soon —Nando jokes.

—Don't you worry, abuelo! It's just you getting even more ancient —Pato adds.

—I thought this meeting was for drivers? I mean real ones —Alonso jokes back.

—Oh, mate, low punch! I saw some of her interviews on telly; she is cheeky —George adds, drinking from a Merc bottle and standing near the door.

—Couldn't sound more British if you tried —Bottas adds.

—He is your Royal Highness, Prince George —Lewis jokes.

—More like your Royal Ass-ness —Leclerc adds amidst laughs.

—I saw her interviews too! It's like Ricciardo got female, but was actually funny and hot —Lando replies.

—Fuck you, mate —Daniel answers, laughing. —You know, she could breastfeed you.

—I wouldn't mind —Lando kids, hitting Dani - sat beside him - on the ribs with his elbow. Today, he is set to act like a naughty boy.

—Lando!! —four drivers say in unison, in shock.

—You're so gross, mate, I swear —Lewis adds simultaneously, palm on his face, half laughing, half wanting to rip his own ears off.

—I'm pretty sure that would be so illegal. I don't want to go to jail, Mr. Officer! —you say, entering through the door. Everyone turns to look at you. You overhear that part of the conversation; it doesn't feel mean-spirit. Then Lando's face matches the red color on Charles' shirt as he slowly turns around on his chair and sits - the proper way - quiet and still. It's a hilarious scene.

—I'm not into minors, but I could change your diaper and read you some bedtime stories to make you fall asleep. "The Little Orange Tin" you would love —you joke to break off the tension.

Michael follows you inside, laughing under his breath. You two take your seats and start chatting casually, two places away. You are seated next to Lewis - to your right - and to an empty chair with no tag to your left by the end of the row.

You are already a fan of Lewis. And again, you know so much about him because of Sam. Now, he is her favorite person on earth. You feel slightly hurt by that fact, but he sounds lovely, so honestly, it doesn't bother you.

—Hi, I'm Lewis —he offers you a fist bump.

—Hi, Lewis. I'm Y/N

—How is F1 treating you? All good? —Sebastian asks you, popping out from Lewis's right. Both their attention to you. Heavens, those are some beautiful eyes. You can't figure out if they are green or blue, but you don't want to stare too long.

Sebastian's actual chair is next to Charles, some rows at the front, but he sits next to Lewis because he feels like it. Messing the order. An anarchist at heart.

—All good, thank you —you answer. —It's been chaotic, but I'm enjoying it. And I'm eager for the first race.

—Me too. I always miss driving during breaks —Lewis tells you.

—I agree —Seb adds. —It is the best feeling in the world, so it's hard to let go.

Then Millie enters the room - pink cat-ears headphones on, rocking the new Williams kit: A minimalistic stretchy sports jersey, a white tee with black seams, and the W logo in black print at the center of the chest. It is a fully fitted silhouette with a high neckline and short sleeves, paired with some sleek black sports slacks.

Michael and you point Millie to the chair next to Michael - with her name tag - she gets there fast and takes off one side of her headphones.

—What up! —Millie greets. —Hi, Sebs!, Hi Lew! —she says extra sweetly and high-pitched tone, waving a hand while facing them. That girl is like a walking cartoon. She looks extra petite and young among those guys.

—Hi, Millie!!! —both of them answer in unison, with the same sweet-pitched tone. It's a cute moment.

Then, the room starts to fill up. And the FIA representative enters, meaning the meeting is about to begin.

A very rushed Mick gets in, also wearing the team's kit. Millie raises a hand and waves it, catching his attention. He moves very fast to his seat. And behind him enters Mattia and Toto, chatting with each other.

Holy shit. The fact that Toto would be there didn't cross your silly mind. And since Seb swapped chairs. The one where he sat belonged to Toto. So the chair next to you is empty and available for the Austrian. You see Mattia sit on the last free spot at the front, and Toto glances around, confused, till he spots the space to your side. You see him walk towards you almost in slow motion. And you set your mind to "if I pretend to not notice him, it means he's not there."

You sense him sitting only inches from you, his arm skin almost touching yours. While you keep your eyes locked straight ahead, point to the FIA guy without daring to move. He stretches while trying to adjust himself to a comfortable position. He is tall and muscular, and these chairs are a joke. His knee moves dangerously close to yours. For a moment, you see the inevitable contact coming. And your heartbeat starts to rise. But it doesn't happen. Damn, he smells so good! How on earth are you to get focus?

And then the meeting begins.

The whole thing is lame. You and Lewis laugh several times at Seb's under-his-breath comments and jokes about what is happening right at the moment. The German has excellent timing and good puns and one-liners. Those two seem like besties, Lewis being the "serious" of the pair; go figure!

The open mic section starts and the FIA guy offers the microphone around. Lewis instantly and discreetly crosses an arm over Seb's hands, and Vettel raises his eyebrows. —Freedom of speech, much? —Sebastian jokes.

—What are you going to ask? Seriously? —Lewis tells him.

—I have a genuine question!

—Why I don't believe you.

—Like why? You don't trust me?

—Oh, I do, but...

—But then... let me grab the mic.

Lewis lets out a sigh. Seb raises a hand, now free from Lewis's grip. And the microphone goes to him.

—Check, check —The entire room pays him attention. —Ahm, I have a question for you all.

—Yes, please, go ahead —The poor FIA guy looks overly excited that someone cares enough to say something. Most of them, not to say all of them, look forced to be there, bored, and by that point, so done with this meeting.

—Gentlemen, a short view back to the past. Thirty years ago, Niki... —The more he talks, the louder everyone laughs. Michael loses it. Sebastian recites the whole thing by heart.

What an icon.

The FIA guy couldn't look more confused.

You hear Toto's laugh for the first time; he has been sitting there quietly this entire time. You briefly and occasionally feel his gaze set on you, but you don't dare to turn, look, or talk to him. You know very well that any moment of weakness from you means your doom. Back to Toto's laugh. What is that heaven-sent sound? You want more. How can you get more? Can someone get addicted to a sound?

—Blimey, I knew it! —Lewis lets out, shaking his head and also smiling.

With that question, it is clear the meeting has ended.

As everyone is getting on their feet, you feel Toto purposely caressing his arm against yours as he gets on his feet and then walks to the exit without looking back at you. Your eyes follow him around till you lose sight. Sweet baby Jesus, those toned arms.

Race day arrives.

The Sahkir circuit is a whole party, and the atmosphere is to the roof. All drivers get in position after the entourages move quickly out of the way. The chaos on the track dissipates within seconds.

Then, after the formation lap, the red lights turn off, and the violent roars from the engines fill your ears. Oh, what a sound, now you are addicted to it.

After a great start from your team and almost two hours later, Lewis and Millie face down in a back-to-back battle. Switching positions 3 times in the final ten laps. It is a monumental effort from the drivers, teams, and their strategies. Emotions are on edge at the pitlane and at the benches.

Millie crosses the line first, less than half a second ahead, and fireworks go up in the air. Fans roar, and you all go nuts! Your crew runs to the pit wall fence, climbing it up and waving as she passes by, lots of fist pumps onto the air. It's your first podium! Your? Like you did something, lol. Your team gets their first podium!! - better - it is a great start. And for the first time in forever, you feel alive and cheerful.

Amidst hugs and pats on the back from crew members and supporters, you make your way to the podium area, following Michael. He is dragging you along; you are in a blur with all that adrenaline rushing through your veins, the noise, the lights, and the crowds.

During the podium ceremony, when the Croatian anthem plays - you are now surrounded by all three teams' entourages, all watching the ceremony together and supporting their driver - you notice Millie getting emotional. It is a first for her, too. And when it finishes, everyone around you starts cheering and clapping like maniacs for her as she raises and kisses the trophy.

Michael, right next to your side, takes off his white W cap before Millie, and she gestures a praying sign with her hands from high above the podium to thank him and thank you. You blow her a kiss just before rivers of champagne fill the place.

Millie is the sweetest. You felt a genuine connection from the first moment you met her - a couple of months ago at the new Williams headquarters - before she agreed to sign the deal. She trusts you, and you believe in her. So you are on this journey together and feel so happy for her.

You get so distracted by these thoughts and others, too, that you don't notice the place started to empty. When you return to reality, you turn around to leave, following Michael's steps, and almost crash into someone walking in the opposite direction. You are left facing a very nice-looking chest - mere inches away from your face - wearing a white Mercedes shirt. You raise your gaze from those fine pecs that belong to Toto and look at his handsome face.

—Hi... —He says, looking down at you, he is way taller than you.

—H-h...i —You feel weak on the knees.

—I-I..

—I... I'm.

You both say at the same time. You step to the left, and Toto steps to the left synchronously.

—Sor..ry-y.

—So-rry.

You both keep talking over each other. So Toto moves aside, gesturing with his hand to let you go through first.

—Nice meeting you —you say calmly and quickly rush away.

—Same —he replies, following you with his gaze and watching you walk away. You feel he wants to say more, and you do, too, but it is better this way.

"What the fuck was that. Why on earth were you so nervous, girl? It was like you forgot how to speak!" You think.

"The fumes in the garage are starting to affect me," Toto thinks. "Is she running away from me? Yeah... The fumes are definitely affecting me. Damn, she walks fast."

Australia

Thanks to poor scheduling and the worst jet traffic, Michael and you aren't able to land on time. All tracks are being used at the moment, so you get sent to another terminal further away from the circuit. Qualy for the Australian GP is about to start, and obviously, you two are running late.

A Lamborghini Sian car is already waiting for you when you land. So you ask the chauffeur to toss the car keys to Michael. —We have like ten minutes to be there —you tell Schumi.

—Understood, boss.

You instantly regret phrasing it like that. Schumi is driving like a madman while getting directions from the chauffeur in the backseat. Michael pushes the engine to the limit, and the car goes full speed. You feel your body melting with the car seat as you hang for your dear life to the seatbelt. Ten minutes was a say, you didn't truly mean it, let's try another one: To get there alive if possible, this one you meant it.

Michael enters the staff parking lot at the Melbourne circuit by taking an extreme corner still at full force. The two security guys sprint to open the gates; it is that or get run over.

Once you get in, you see him letting the wheel go a second, and the car starts spinning around - it twirls at an alarming speed. "Am I going to get projected out of this window?" you think. And in just one wild movement, he parallels parks, tires burning. The Fast and Furious stunts were a kid's play next to his. Everyone stares at the scene, astounded.

—9.48.00 minutes, boss —Schumi says. Turning off the engine while checking his Rolex Daytona.

He was insane for this.

—Well, I hope you are as fast on your feet as you were on this car —You joke, grabbing your purse and access badge while getting out of the vehicle, heels hitting the ground like nothing had happened. Because, above everything, you are a bad bitch.

—Are you? —he dares you. Walking past the front of the car, catching your step.

—Haven't you seen my legs?! —You joke. Toned they are.

—You make the 100-meter dash athletes jealous —He jokes back.

You are going to get so many fines. So many.

You two make it to the W garage on time. You "fashion walk" there, according to the people who mock you. Since you don't feel like blending in with the mechanics - and because of your outfits and looks. The Williams garage is located dead last on the pitlane, so you have to walk in front of all other teams' garages to get there every time - expensive bag-swinging in the air, designer heels clacking on the floor, always wearing a chic something; dresses, shorts, skirts - as if they don't enjoy it! Of course, you expected toxic masculinity and sexism on your way, especially since your team is dominating! But not this early on.

—You are late! —Millie jumps at you.

—Let's not talk about it. I'm going to need therapy, thanks to that experience.

—What?! —She looks at you with a funny face.

—Nevermind. All ready?

—Do I look like ready? —She says, gesturing at herself. She is wearing an oversized lilac tee - at least twice her size - and a white tennis mini-skirt with matching white Jordans.

She follows you to the dressing rooms right across from your remote office, where you quickly leave your purse and stuff inside. As you two get there, Millie tells you how excited she is that Sanrio offered to design her helmet for Suzuka before going to change.

—What do you think? Is it too much? —she asks you. Inviting you into her custom dressing room and pointing around. It looks like Minisio had puked that room out.

—Is very you! —you answer.

—I know, right!!! —she gives you a big dumb smile.

—Are your boobs out? —Mick asks while entering through her dressing room doors - eyes closed, arms extended in front, walking mummy-like - not seeing you there, obviously.

—What?! No! —Millie answers as Loretta (her trainer slash assistant) finishes suiting her up.

—Great! I can open my eyes then! —he says.

—I don't think there's much to see, Mick —Millie jokes while putting on a sad face and looking down at her chest. —Two lemons, barely.

—I don't think Marc from statistics thinks the same. I saw him trying to find them —He jokes. Mick gains a smack on the arm.

Millie's popularity has skyrocketed; she is already a paddock favorite. By this point, she had already rejected three engineers who asked her out - not because of ego, being rude, or wanting to break hearts - but because she is so clueless and a shy dork with zero social skills, in her own words: "I communicate better with cars and engines than with people, at least I know how to work them."

—Kids, kids! —you say, amused at the scene.

—Oh, hi, boss! I didn't notice you there —Mick looks at you, a bit embarrassed.

—No worries —You are glad those two are getting along well.

Mick drops himself on the fluffy pink oval puff in one of the corners. One leg up.

—Why are you here on my land? —Millie asks.

—Oh yeah. I came to say something —Mick adds like he is just remembering. —Yes! My father is waiting for you two to start the team's meeting. Everyone is there already. It's urgent. So hurry.

—Oh god, and you just let us know now.

The three of you get on your feet real fast.

After a good team catch-up and an impeccable motivational speech from Michael, all of you get to your positions inspired and ready to give it all.

As the Qualy starts, you turn to Michael. —You are a great leader, you know? We are lucky to have you —you tell him.

—I'm glad to be here, more than you imagine, boss.

Millie secures a pole position. Sparks flyed. Damn, that car was fast, and she, she was faster!

When the workday is done, you wait for Sam across from Merc's hospitality. It's getting dark.

You are sitting on a bench a few meters away, next to a tree with beautiful yellow flowers, looking at your phone and minding your business, avoiding looking like a threat near competitors' territory.

—Waiting for Sam? —Toto asks you from the other side - at the bottom of the stairs of their main cafeteria entrance - you raise your gaze at the sound of his voice.

—Yes! Hi! Will she be taking long? —You can't avoid smiling at him and sound slightly nervous.

—No, she is on her way, but I must warn you, she's been insufferable the entire day. She had one of those, what she calls it? A bad ha...

—A bad hair day —you both finish in unison. —Yikes! How bad it was? The hair? I mean.

—Oh, terrible! I had to look at it all day —he answers jokingly, putting an ew face. Toto walks towards you and sits on the bench by your side, stretching his legs and resting one on top of the other.

The truth is, Samanta doesn't have naturally straight locks; she has long, curly hair she straightens. And sometimes, some days, some weather gave her that wavy, frizzy, wild, non-combable hair.

—You are such an inspiration, a true survivor. Tell me all about your journey —You make him laugh, you love that. More, please.

The door interrupts you two as you both smile at each other like dumbs and lock eyes. Sam goes out, black Merc hoodie on, covering almost her entire face, overdramatic as usual.

—Rocking the Palpatine? —you tease her.

—Hilarious. Bad hair day. I look like Monica Geller on that trip to the beach beneath this —she says with sarcasm. Toto laughs. —Ah, now that reference you get —Sam rolls her eyes.

—Jezz, that mood, huh? A few drinks will get you through these dark times, my friend. Let's go! —you add.

—Oh no, I'm not going.

—What?! Why?! Why are you like this, Samanta?!

—No, why is humidity a thing? Who needs it?

—Aem, all of Australia's wildlife? —Toto adds.

—Shut up, smarty pants —Sam lets out.

—You look like Hagrid —he replies.

—Torger, don't test me, I swear —she warns him, fingers rubbing her forehead.

—So, when will you be available then? —you ask her, cutting off the bickering.

Sam opens her weather app to check the humidity levels. —Ahm, like next week? Not in Australia?

—Are you serious, dude?! I already booked! —You two were going to that Michelin star blindfolded dining and drinking experience. It was so on trend that booking a table there was Melbourne's most challenging and expensive thing at the moment.

—Sorry, I'm not going out looking like this! But for sure Toto could join you! He desperately needs to get some of that stress out of his system. He's getting meaner.

—What!? Me, the meaner one? —Toto lets out.

—What?! Sam! No, no. He is probably busy, and I don't want to bo... —you add, quickly, getting nervous while trying not to show it.

She interrupts you.

—Busy?! No, he is just in an antisocial mood swing. Toto barely left his office today! All grumpy, he was inside there. Besides, didn't you, my guy, tell me you were going straight to your hotel to lock yourself and binge-watch Love Island while eating ice cream straight from the bucket? —Sam teases him, well aware Toto is feeling low - more like heartbroken - Sam hates Sussie, but of course, she will never admit it publicly, and definitely not to him. This is her weird way of showing him her support by setting him up to go out and have fun with a great person instead of being miserable and all alone. Classic Sam.

—What? No. What's Love Island? I wasn't being antisocial; I had a ton of work today, unlike you —He answers deadpan.

—Do you even own a TV? —Sam is seriously curious.

—Of course, I do! Several, in fact —It doesn't mean he watches them.

—You must be rich! —you joke. He smiles.

—Yeah, whatever. Come on! Get to know each other! Have a good time on me and my hair's behalf —Sam grabs you both, each by the arm, and walks you towards the exit.

—Is it me, or is she getting worse with age? —You address Toto.

—No question!

—Hey! You can't trash-talk me! —Sam complains.

—Oh, that's all we will be doing; we are going to talk so much trash about you, piles of it, that the garbage collector will plead to us no more —you mock her.

—I'm hating this already! —Sam crosses her arms.

Well, now you have a date with Toto. A date, yeah, in your dreams.

To be continued... - Masterlist | Next Chapter

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atsumulogy · 2 years

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synopsis: kdrama cliches & tropes u would experience w/ ur haikyuu boys.

pairing(s): various x gn!reader

content warning: mentions of being drunk, pinch of angst at the bonus end, wrist grabbing, mentions of a fight

naia’s footnote: first post 4 this blog … Feeling: Nervous 😹this probably a bit ooc but let me live! also?? the read more thingy gives me these stupid glitches and i had to redo this for so many times

likes & reblogs are appreciated!

PIGGY BACK RIDES — scenario wherein you probably got injured or got too tired to walk and he carries you on his back (either begrudgingly or happily, either way you’re both warmer than usual in the face but no one says anything.)

→ BOKUTO, tsukishima(is part of the begrudgingly part, you’re probably too tired to walk or injured and he’s totally NOT worried about you okay? he just finds your whining annoying and wants you to shut up.) noya, asahi, aran, kita, akaashi, daichi, aone.

FORCED COHABITATION — you guys probably hate each other, and somehow, someway, you guys end up in a situation where you guys have to live together. this was not a part of his or your plans, but so is falling in love with each other but i guess fate has other plans!

→ SAKUSA, atsumu, shirabu, semi (you think he plays his guitar way too loud not knowing it’s the chords of the song he wrote about you)

CONFESSION OF FEELINGS BUT … — either you or he fell asleep, blackout drunk or just sleepy as hell. or he gets interrupted before he confesses by a phone call that will lead to many scenarios from misunderstandings to an emergency that will set back the confession a few more episodes until he actually gets to confess. or at this point, you have to be the one to confess because things just won’t go his way!

→ OIKAWA (LMAO, wanna see him suffer), ennoshita, kyotani, iwaizumi, goshiki, makki, tanaka, asahi, hinata, lev, atsumu, kuroo.

SHARING AN UMBRELLA — it rains but you forgot your umbrella, and he so happens to have one with him. and somehow you and him end up under his umbrella, close proximity as you could literally feel his hot breath and he wonders if you could hear his heart beat drumming like he just ran a whole mile. he would angle the umbrella in a way that you wouldn’t get wet by the rain while his shoulders soaking wet but it’s okay, as long as you’re fine and dry he doesn’t mind getting wet by the rain <3 (bonus if next day he gets sick and you visit him and take care of him AND maybe an almost kiss happening … 😁)

→ AKAASHI, KITA, semi, goshiki, tanaka, yamamoto, kuroo

WRIST GRABS — grabs your wrists to get you to talk to him because you walked out on him OR OR HE GRABS YOUR WRISTS BECAUSE HE GOT JEALOUS WITH THE GUY YOU’RE TALKING TO OR (they try not to be as forceful or harsh tho ☹️)

→ iwaizumi, osamu, suna, yaku, kyotani, tsukishima, kageyama, oikawa, atsumu, kuroo (?) atp i’m just saying anyone that comes into my mind LMAO

OLD CHILDHOOD FRIENDS THAT MEET AGAIN (AND FALL IN LOVE) — okay so you guys either remember each other not, but that really doesn’t matter in the end because either way, you guys would end up together. hashtag fated soulmates!

→ ushijima (I JUST FEEL LIKE HE COULD FIT THIS TROPE .. or probably he reminds of this male lead in a kdrama i watched with this trope LOL), sakusa, noya, oikawa, tendou.

SHOULDER NAP — he falls asleep in your shoulders, whether he meant to or not won’t change the fact that you could hear the beat of your heart increasing, your breath hitching, and suddenly the room feels hotter than ever.

or you fall asleep in his shoulder and suddenly he can’t move a single muscle anymore, but it’s fine, he thinks, as you nuzzle yourself unconsciously into his neck.

→ SUNA, kenma, kyotani (you fall asleep on his shoulders and instead of pushing you off him, he lets you sleep there and glares at anyone who stares at you guys.), kageyama, tsukishima.

BONUS: THE LOVE TRIANGLE TROPE — my guilty pleasure but also my most behated trope ever.

the male lead — the one who got the love interest in the end.

→ oikawa, tsukishima (it’s giving asshole male lead but gets the girl in the end anyway!), bokuto, terushima, tanaka, kageyama, atsumu, osamu, shirabu, goshiki, ushijima

the second lead — probably deserves the love interest as much as the male lead OR probably deserves the love interest more LMAO

→ akaashi (he treats the love interest so well and he just?? loves them sm?? even though he’s not the one that they picked?? crying he doesn’t even expect anything from them. he's the type of second lead every viewer was rooting for), iwaizumi, kindaichi, lev, yamamoto, and if i say suna, ennoshita, noya, konoha, koganegawa, semi, kawanishi

#atsumu x reader #oikawa x reader #suna x reader #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu x reader #iwaizumi x reader #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu angst #haikyuu drabbles #bokuto x reader #akaashi x reader #kuroo x reader #tsukishima x reader #ushijima x reader #hq x reader #haikyuu x you

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alphabetatoes · 4 months

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sweet dreams are made of these (v. sanji x reader)

a.n.: finished yuri!!! on ice and also had an awful day so i needed some good old fashioned domestic fluff to fill the void! everyone's favorite sanji simp reporting for duty ☝️🤓. also updated the links to my masterlist and ask box. (hashtag housekeeping things) summary: reader falls asleep on sanji's lap and he falls in love all over again. domestic fluff galore. c.w.: established relationship, maybe possibly ooc, not a warning but tried to be as gender neutral as possible!, no beta we post like men w.c.: 340

Once again, it was time for movie night aboard the Straw Hat’s ship. As per tradition, Sanji would divvy up the perfect dinner for you to dine on while watching the selected film on the ship deck. And now that everyone had taken their rightful spots- yours being in Sanji’s lap -the movie could begin.

At some point during the second half of the film, fatigue crept up on you. The other Straw Hats had made their merry ways to bed, leaving you and the cook cuddled up on the deck. He kept you wrapped up in his lap, with your face nuzzled in his neck. You were drooling, and a small amount of it was pooling on his sleep shirt. But he didn’t mind. There was something so domestic about the situation. A strange comfort And that was one of the many reasons he’d fallen in love with you. Your light snores sent butterflies through his chest. Everything about you made Sanji want to melt into pure bliss. He places a chaste kiss on your temple.

“I think it’s time for bed, sweetheart.” He whispers in your ear, careful not to startle you.

You manage to let out a drowsy “Mhmm.” in acknowledgement, refusing to get up from your extremely comfortable position.

Sanji takes the hint and delicately lifts you in his arms, carrying you to your bedroom. Once you’ve reached your destination, he lays you down under the covers and joins you in bed. He brushes his fingertips against your waist, lightly pulling you into him. You let out a soft chuckle, and he swears he’s fallen in love all over again. You tangle your legs into his, relishing in the solace of his body heat.

“You’re hot.”

It was true in both the literal and hyperbolic sense. But right now, you wanted nothing more than to remedy your freezing legs and he had the cure.

“Thanks, doll.”

You give him a playful slap on the shoulder but move closer into him, ready to envelope yourself in sleep.

#vinsmoke sanji #vinsmoke sanji x reader #one piece #opla

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kimsohn · 4 months

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even if the world caves in,

pairing . chanhee x gn! reader (ft. vernon of seventeen) about . 13.5k words, fluff + angst, e2l fake-dating warnings . smoking, alcohol, cursing, suggestive (allusions to sex at the end), descriptive food mentions, y/n and chanhee are idiots chanhee lowkey doesn't deserve y/n, the plot kinda doesn't make sense but fuck it we ball ok, pls lmk if i missed things bc i probably did, also i wrote most of this at ungodly hours of the night and this is not proofread take this as your warning

synopsis . after your big break in cinema, the last thing on your mind is a relationship. unfortunately for you, the public has other plans, forcing you together with the journalist who's entire career is dedicated to your downfall. note . this is my submission for @deoboyznet's secret santa fic exchange! hihi @heemingyu i'm your secret santa!! (i'm so sorry this is like two days late and probably rushed forgive me) i went through like four different plots before settling on this one and writing it in one week 😭 i hope you enjoy!!! also thank you to @juyeonszn for staying up until 6am to beta for me what the fuck. ilysm. tagging . @invuwrld @gfksn @stealanity

Lately, the only thing that seems to greet you is the buzzing sound of your phone, incessant until silenced by your tired fingers.

You reach over as you stir awake, the action almost second nature to you as your hand catches ahold of the sleek object. You hit random buttons until your desired effect comes into play, answering the phone call and putting it on speaker, and you already know who it is before their voice even drifts through the microphone.

“Y/N! Get your ass up, you’re on the headlines.”

“Again?” you whine, rolling over in bed. “Is it good news or bad news this time?”

The man on the other end laughs, bitterly, and you push yourself off the bed in response. Your manager laughing, especially like that, is nothing amusing, and you rub your eyes as you try to get yourself awake.

“Oh, it’s bad, alright. Open your fucking phone, Y/N.”

You do exactly that, immediately thumbing over to Twitter and seeing your name trending. Afraid of which one of your many stupid decisions has made the headlines today, you press the hashtag, cringing at the first picture.

“Of course, they got pictures of me drunk,” you mutter, scrolling through the list. “Wasn’t this Juyeon’s private party, like months ago? How did these photos leak?”

“It doesn’t matter Y/N,” your manager sighs from the other side, and you feel a twinge of guilt for always putting him through this situation, “you’re an actor. Nothing in your life is private anymore, especially you pole dancing on top of the bar.”

Your facial muscles twitch as you come across the aforementioned picture, seeing yourself busting out dance moves on the marble. You have to hold back a laugh, seeing how something so ridiculously insignificant is dragging your name through the mud right now.

“But Vernon, you have to admit, the pictures are kinda hot.”

He grumbles on the other side before he cuts the call, and you fall into bed giggling, scrolling through other pictures. You have a cigarette in one hand and a tequila glass in the other, and that explains why you remember absolutely nothing about that day.

A text notification appears at the top of your screen, and you swipe down to see none other than Vernon who you were on call with five seconds ago. He’s sent you the link to an article followed by a message.

This is the article that leaked the video. Check out the name.

You click on the link, and your face falls at the name of the website. It falls even more when you see the name of the writer, and you press your fingers to your forehead. You immediately call Vernon again, watching the phone ring twice before he picks up.

“Can we fucking blacklist him, Vernon?” you seethe, gripping your phone tightly.

“I’m afraid not. He’s just a journalist, not a stalker.”

“He might as well be with the way he’s always up to date with my private information.”

You punch your pillow, watching your fist pathetically curl into the bedding. It doesn’t have its intended effect, only reminding you of how weak you are physically and mentally. You don’t get into scandals often, probably because you’re a rare, good person in the horrible field that is Hollywood, but whenever you do, you have one journalist to thank for it.

“I told you, nothing is private in your life anymore.”

Vernon goes off on a tangent about how you should’ve been more careful, how you shouldn’t have drunk your ass off, but you can’t find it within you to care. There was technically nothing wrong with what you did (except for maybe the indecency, but it’s a bar for fuck’s sake), but as a famous actor with a huge fanbase, you understand why your manager is angry. Dancing on top of a counter and smoking should not be the kind of precedent you set for your fans, especially the younger ones, and your actions have a lot more weight to them now that you’re in the public eye.

It’s just stupid because you’re a regular person. At the very least, you deserve to have some privacy regarding decisions you make, especially ones that are so insignificant.

“Vernon,” you interrupt, “it’s okay. My movie is coming out later this week, so I think it’ll die down quickly.”

“I know, but you’re lucky that this was a trivial issue. If you get caught in something truly fucked up, another movie won’t be able to save you.”

“I’ll be more careful. I promise.”

He hangs up, reminding you that you have a screening to attend later today and an interview. Your eyes drift back to the article again, reading the headline.

Hollywood’s favorite celebrity turned dancer.

You shut your eyes, breathing in and out so you don’t lose your composure. The universe is lucky you’re a rational, decent human being because if you weren’t, the writer who’s been practically harassing you would’ve been long eliminated by now.

Choi Chanhee, you read, familiar with the name. The infamous writer that’s always on your tail. It’s as if he dedicates his whole life to ruining you because he’s always the first to write things that make your crown slip. Almost all of your scandals, from particularly stupid ones at the beginning of your career to your most recent one, have been written by him. He’s practically obsessed with you at this point, and you don’t know what it is about you that ticks him off.

You toss your phone to the side, trudging over to the bathroom to get ready. Unlike Chanhee, you don’t have the time or patience to worry about trivial things like gossip pages. Choi Chanhee is just one, minor obstacle in your way. Just someone insignificant.

A long time ago, the flashing lights of cameras would’ve blinded you. Now, as a seasoned actor, you’re quite immune to the brightness that surrounds you when you walk the red carpet. You smile and pose, reveling in the cameras and the interviews that follow, asking for details about your current movie and the process behind the scenes.

You’ve just finished off an interview about the movie’s wardrobe when a black-haired man comes up to you. The lens of his thick glasses shines against the cameras in the background, and you have to look down to avoid the glare from the reflection.

You read his name tag and your face drops. You immediately look up, putting on a forced grin.

“Choi Chanhee. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

He smiles, and the corners of his mouth curl as if he knows of your extensive distaste for him.

“It seems you know who I am already. Let’s get started with the interview then. First question: do you have anything to say regarding your latest scandal at the bar?”

You’re gritting through your teeth as you answer.

“No comment. Next question, please.”

“What are your opinions on the latest controversy surrounding Lee and Co., the production company behind your movie?”

He fires off a few questions, all as controversial as the last, and the only thing that keeps you from slapping him right there and then is your media training that Vernon had drilled into you while in the car.

“He will be there,” Vernon had said, fixing your watch, “don’t give him anything to work with. Just focus on promoting your movie.”

You’ve followed his advice for the solid ten minutes Chanhee has bombarded you, but even your patience is wearing thin. You’re tired of being asked about the same scandals repeatedly from different angles, and you have to admit that even if he’s doing an amazing job as a journalist, it’s not looking good for your conscience.

“Chanhee,” you interrupt, watching him pause in the middle of a question, “do you have any substantial questions about the movie, or are we done here?”

His face contorts as if he had just been thrown tomatoes at, and the devil in your brain beams from his expression. He flips through his notes, flicking through a couple of pages before landing on one that’s up to his liking.

“Okay, one last question then. Who was your favorite person to work with during this movie?”

You pause, mulling over the question. You watch as his eyes traverse his notes, and you wonder what trick he has up his sleeve. You guess that he will probably bring up something about the person who’s name you’ll recite, so you think carefully before answering.

“I don’t have one particular favorite. I love them all,” you answer honestly and safely, with no room for scrutiny.

He nods, shutting off the recorder before packing his bag and giving you a slight bow. The narcissist in your brain revels in how good he looks bowing down to you, but you pay your respects in return.

“Thank you for your time, Y/N.”

You watch as he saunters off, probably off to his crew, and you blink a few times before shifting your attention to the next reporter with an eager smile.

Hours later, you find yourself outside, exchanging the chaos inside for a fresh breath of air. Your director has indulged in an after-party, one you’re grateful for too, but after a couple of glasses of wine and many more hours of talking to fellow celebrities, you need a moment of solitude.

The air outside is crisp and cool, and you find yourself wishing you’d brought your jacket out to accompany you. Your vision is slightly blurry and your stance is wobbly, but you find a bench nearby to take a seat at. You stare at the pond across from you for a while, throwing rocks into the water and watching how far they travel.

A cigarette accompanies you, and the puffs of air you release are visual representations of how relaxed you want to feel. You’ve just released a movie, and you should be thankful, but as an actor, your mind never rests due to the endless possibilities you can ponder over. Moments like these where you find yourself completely alone, with nothing to worry about, are rare, and you try to curb your mind from ruining the moment by overthinking.

However, your moment of peace is interrupted by a loud shutter behind you, and you quickly turn around, afraid of what the paparazzi would say if they caught you like this. A figure disappears around the corner, but as you hear the clacking of their footsteps, you know exactly who it must be.

“Chanhee, I know it’s you.”

Moments pass before he steps out from behind the wall, holding a camera in his hands. The object, in contrast to the suit he wears, is so uncoordinated that you burst into a fit of laughter, over-emotional from the wine you had earlier.

“Why are you laughing?” he asks cautiously, treading the waters.

“I didn’t know you were a photographer too! You’re an all-rounder for sure.”

“Look,” he whispers as if his guilt will excuse his actions, “I didn’t mean to—”

“It’s okay.” You pat the empty space next to you. “Here, sit next to me.”

He takes a seat warily, as if you have a gun in your hands, but relaxes once he sees you dangling your feet. It’s uncharacteristic for him to be sitting next to you, heck, even interacting with you, but you don’t seem to really mind as you throw another rock into the water.

“Why do you hate me?” you ask, staring at him with glossy eyes. “What did I do that was so wrong?”

“Are you drunk?” he asks instead, realizing this isn’t the pristine condition he saw you in a couple of hours ago.

“It doesn’t matter,” you sniffle. “What did I do to make you absolutely despise me?”

Chanhee sighs, staring at the ripples in the pond. He picks up a rock, swinging it as far as he can before it settles to the bottom of the pool. It goes way farther than any of the rocks you’d thrown before, and you pout miserably as you cease your ministrations.

“It’s my job. I get paid for writing about your downfall.”

“But… you don’t have to be so mean about it.”

Chanhee recognizes that he won’t get anywhere with this argument because you’re drunk, so instead, he turns to you, placing his hands on your shoulders so you look at him.

“Look, I’m sorry, okay? Here, I won’t even post the pictures that I took today.”

He deletes the pictures from his camera, showing you after it’s done, and you surprise him by throwing your arms around him. You’re too far gone to realize the weight of your actions, but he isn’t, so he tries to gently pry them off his shoulders.

“Thank you,” you whisper after he’s done, slumping across the bench half-asleep, “thank you for being nice. For once.”

He blinks once, twice, before he exhales, turning around on his heel and disappearing into the darkness. Later, when Vernon picks you up from the bench, you tell him that a pretty fairy saved you from disaster. He won’t believe you, but you know it’s true in your heart.

You’re nursing your hangover when you decide to turn on the news. You settle into your comfortable couch, holding a bowl of hangover soup and trying not to succumb to the pain radiating throughout your forehead.

Not often do you watch the news, choosing to opt out because it’s usually annoying and gives you a headache, but Vernon’s somehow using two devices to watch his show on Netflix so you’re forced to resort to this. You think you might die if you don’t distract yourself from the migraine that’s been occupying your senses, so the news will have to suffice.

You flick through the channels, not interested in the politics or the weather, but your fingers pause when a bright pink headline catches your eye. It’s the gossip channel, and this is usually the channel you’re warned to stay far away from, but you can’t help but watch the video playing when the headline specifically features your name.

Y/N caught in a secret relationship, embracing a secret lover by the pond.

Your mood turns sour when the clip features events from last night, ones that are still fuzzy in your brain. You didn’t expect to be reliving this situation, but your heart all but drops when you realize the snippet features you and Chanhee in the frame, hugging each other as if you had indeed been lovers. The worst part is that Chanhee didn’t even reciprocate, but that isn’t featured in the headline, so it truly does look like you two have a thing for each other.

This time around, you call Vernon first instead of the usual.

“Y/N,” he whispers groggily as if you had woken him up, “what happened?”

“Please turn on the fucking news Vernon.”

You hear shuffling from the other side, a few minutes of rustling before you hear the blaring of the TV and a similar sound drifting through his microphone. You get a few minutes of pin-drop silence before all hell breaks loose.

“Who the fuck is that?!” he exclaims, and you hear his feet angrily pacing around. “Was this last night? I thought I told you to be more careful, to look out for your surroundings—”

“Vernon, it’s Chanhee.”

The only thing you hear from Vernon is his angered breaths, and it takes mere seconds before you burst into tears, fed up by this situation and the terrible migraine you still have. You just want to curl up into a ball and never step foot into the universe again, and your resolve only strengthens when the line goes dead. You can’t help the tears that come to bay, rippling through you like a shockwave that never seems to end.

Insistent knocking at your door a few moments later is the only thing that stops the tears from falling, and you quickly wipe them before opening the door. Vernon stands at the other side, his hands in his pockets and eyebags above his cheeks, but his gaze softens when he sees your puffy eyes and you hugging yourself.

He brings you into his embrace, your tears staining his hoodie, but neither of you can find it in yourselves to care. Vernon just caresses your back, knowing the only thing you need right now is a gesture of comfort, and you burrow into his chest further. Right here, in the middle of your entryway, Vernon provides you with the best version of reassurance he can offer: a simple, caring hug.

“I was drunk,” you mutter when you’ve calmed down, speaking through the sniffles that escape you, “and we were just talking. You know I get touchy when I’m tipsy.”

“I figured,” he says, unraveling himself from your embrace. “Does the press know it’s him?”

“No, but I expect they’ll find out soon enough.”

You follow him as he takes a seat on the couch, watching the headlines on the TV. The gossip channel has long moved on from your news, but you haven’t, and fear of what will happen to either you or Chanhee is killing you.

“We need to contact him before then,” he voices, grabbing his phone from his pocket. “I think I know someone from his office.”

“Wait, why?” you ask, trying to peer over at his phone, watching him scroll through his contacts. “Wouldn’t it just be best to let the rumors die down?”

“If this was a celebrity, we could’ve done that. But Chanhee is a regular human being, and this could potentially destroy his career.”

“Isn’t that a good thing?” you murmur under your breath, watching Vernon deadpan.

“Look, I know you hate him, but he doesn’t deserve to be criticized for something he didn’t even do. Let’s just talk to him and see what he has to say, okay?”

You nod, falling back on the couch. The migraine still bothers you, and you rub your fingers across your forehead to massage it.

Five days ago, you would never have expected to be in this position. To you, Chanhee was just a name on a screen, a faceless figure haunting your dreams. How fitting is it that his very first encounter with you led to your worst nightmare?

You hear Vernon dial his contact, watching the phone ring several times before a line picks up. Vernon speaks gratefully, grabbing the pen and paper that you have lying around on your coffee table as he scribbles down some information.

“We have a meeting,” he says, showing you the piece of paper, “in five hours. Be ready by then.”

Just what exactly have you gotten yourself into?

The bright lights and white walls in the meeting room make it look like a prison cell, and the atmosphere does absolutely nothing to calm your nerves. You’re tapping your foot anxiously, sitting in an unfamiliar space in an unfamiliar building, but Chanhee requested a meeting in his office building, and you have no other choice but to go with it.

You’d be lying if you said you were nonchalant about the whole atmosphere, but you try to keep yourself composed as you wait for him to enter. Vernon sits beside you, going through some papers in his briefcase that only a manager would know about, and his presence is the only thing keeping you grounded right now.

“Just let me do the talking, okay?” he’d said before entering, “The last thing we need is another argument on our hands.”

Even though the comment offended you, you honestly would be better off trusting his judgment. You and Chanhee don’t exactly have the best track record, and if either one of you says something even slightly off, the room would probably explode into insults. You honestly don’t even have the strength anyway to hold up a fight, so you slump into your chair, adjusting your jacket and reeling in your patience.

The doorknob twists and you and Vernon straighten your postures, trying to look presentable for your audience. Chanhee enters, followed by a blonde-haired who you’d assume to be his boss, and you rise so you can shake their hands. Chanhee ignores your attempt at waving a white flag, choosing to shake Vernon’s instead before sitting down at a seat, but his boss smiles and grabs your palm tightly in his.

“Hello, I’m Sangyeon. It’s nice to meet you.”

You exchange pleasantries as you sit down, and once you get over the initial awkwardness, you shut your mouth and wait for Vernon to speak up.

“So, I’m sure you guys have seen the news and are well aware of why we’re here.”

Sangyeon nods, urging him to continue.

“I understand what you might be feeling right now Chanhee,” Vernon follows, catching Chanhee’s gaze, “and we’re extremely sorry for the trouble that this has caused you. However, I have a proposition that might benefit both parties, if you are interested.”

Chanhee’s silence prompts Vernon’s explanation, and you lean in, curious about what he has to say too. Vernon had offhandedly mentioned that he had a deal to make, but you don’t have the slightest clue as to what he’s about to propose.

“I was thinking we play into the rumors. We can say Y/N and Chanhee met at a press conference and hit it off a couple of weeks ago. After we plan a few more appearances, we can stage a public breakup in a few weeks so that everything can go back to normal.”

You blanch, ready to refuse the idea, but Chanhee beats you to it.

“Why would I agree to a relationship with Y/N?”

“Hey,” you start, offended by his implications, “what’s wrong with dating me?”

Chanhee scoffs.

“Don’t even start, Y/N. This is all your fault after all. I didn’t know you liked me that much that you couldn’t keep your hands off me.”

You’re seeing blood red, crazed at the malice behind his words.

“I was tipsy! And how was I supposed to know that someone was stalking us? If anything, it was your fault for deleting those pictures and being nice to me.”

The room erupts into chaos as you throw petty insults at each other, similar to a catfight. It takes Vernon holding you back physically to get you to calm down, but even after you’ve calmed down, you’re still staring daggers at him.

“Look, Chanhee, I understand this is not ideal for either of you given the nature of your jobs. But if you think about it, when the press finds out that it’s you in the picture, how will you be able to resume your writing? Who will take you seriously if you write hate articles about the very person that you were caught with?” Vernon asks, trying to reason with him.

Chanhee falls into silence, and he looks at his manager. His manager offers him a pitiful glance, knowing that Vernon is right.

“You don’t have to be lovey-dovey with each other,” Vernon continues, hoping to ease the terms. “You just have to appear in public for a couple of dates. We can use your old articles to prove that you guys have had romantic tension, so we’ll have background evidence too. When Y/N breaks your heart in a couple of weeks, you’ll have the perfect reason to continue writing hate articles.”

“It’s like enemies to lovers to… enemies, right?” Sangyeon asks, humming after Vernon nods, “I think it’s a good idea Chanhee. You’ll gain a lot more exposure after the whole thing is over too. If we continue going as it is, the press will ruin your career, and I’d have no other choice but to fire you. I think this is the best decision for your future and the company.”

Chanhee sighs, rubbing his temples. As much as you despise him, you can sympathize with the fact that he has a difficult decision looming over his head. The fate of his career rests in your hands, the person he’s dedicated a lifetime to ruining, and you can imagine just how insane his internal conflict might be.

“I’ll do it,” you voice, watching the room’s reactions carefully.

Chanhee’s eyes shoot up at you, clearly not expecting your admission.

“I would hate to be the reason you had to quit something you love. Besides, I’ve been in too many scandals recently anyway; I think a relationship could do my career some good.”

You don’t know if your attempt at a joke resonated with him, but his shoulders relax and he bores his eyes into you. His eyes are sharp and feline-like, but his brown pupils are almost the exact opposite, thoughtful and deep. He’s a little pretty, you realize, when he’s not trying to sabotage your entire career.

You’ve tried to stay level-headed after your argument earlier, as a gesture to Vernon, but you can’t contain your surprise when he nods a few minutes later.

“Okay, I’ll go with your plan. But I want four weeks, not five.”

“Deal,” you say, reaching over with an open palm before Vernon can even say anything.

This time around, Chanhee does reciprocate your gesture, shaking your hand firmly. The white flag flies freely over your heads, and you can only pray that these next four weeks will be over just as quickly as they started.

The news blows up fairly quickly after it’s published, even faster than any of the scandals you’ve been in. After the announcement your companies sent out confirming your relationship, you posted a picture of Chanhee to your Instagram story to show support from your side. Never have you garnered so many notifications in a single day, but you’re not complaining. You suppose your fans have also been waiting for you to get into a serious relationship, seeing that you’ve been single since your acting debut, so the update is received with a mostly positive reaction that you’re thankful for.

However, just the news and a picture alone aren’t going to cut it. Arguably, the hardest part of this whole ordeal is your interactions with Chanhee, making your relationship believable enough so your fans don’t think this is the PR stunt like it really is. Your first order of business is taking Chanhee along on a date tonight to a movie premiere, the first actual public appearance you two will be making.

To say you’re nervous is an understatement. The last time you saw Chanhee, it took Vernon’s presence to stop you from biting his head off. How will you even survive a whole event together, let alone act like a couple?

You tell Chanhee to show up a couple of hours earlier so you can plan out the details, unable to keep your nervousness at bay. You don’t know if Chanhee is as anxious as you, but Vernon always says it’s good to stick to a plan, so calling him over isn’t the worst idea you’ve ever had.

Actually, it might be a little bit bad.

“Wow,” you say, your throat suddenly parched from seeing his clothing, “you clean up nicely.”

Nice is the simplest you could describe his outfit. He’s wearing a black suit, indented polka dots scattered across the black cloth. Paired with a white shirt underneath and matching tie, along with those round glasses that are definitely growing on you, he looks just like another A-list celebrity in the crowd. Maybe even a model if you would care to admit it.

“Thanks,” he mutters, unbuttoning the jacket to strew it across your couch, “it’s kinda hot in here, no?”

You would agree, but your mind is currently occupied with how delicious he looks in just a simple white shirt and a tie. You have half a mind to tell him that he really should quit his job and become a model instead, but you settle for nodding instead.

“It’s probably because of all the facial stuff we did earlier,” your stylist Kevin says, walking over to place clips in your hair, “it’ll calm down in a little bit.”

Chanhee’s eyes widen when Kevin enters, his eyes staring at you in panic and moving over to Kevin before they travel back to you. You laugh, amused with how seriously he’s playing the part.

“He knows,” you reassure him, “most of my close staff know, so you don’t need to worry.”

Chanhee exhales in relief, his head drooping down into his arms. Kevin meets your gaze before quirking an eyebrow, and you shake your head, not wanting to indulge in his teasing.

“Okay,” Chanhee says after he’s calmed down, leaning into the couch, “what’s the plan?”

“Well, since this is our first time in public together, we can keep it simple,” you start, wincing when Kevin tugs on part of your hair a little too hard, “maybe holding hands, walking next to each other, maybe a hug if we’re up for it.”

Chanhee looks disgusted, and you honestly can’t even disagree with him. You’re not exactly happy about jumping straight into skin-to-skin contact with the guy you hate, but this is the bare minimum for a relationship and you intend to follow through.

“Don’t look at me like that,” you sigh. “You do know that we’re going to have to kiss at some point, right? This is probably the tamest we’ll get.”

“Hey, don’t haunt the poor guy,” Kevin says, pulling out a makeup palette. “Just take it slow, okay? It’ll be a while before you get to that stage.”

You disappear into your bedroom to change after Kevin is done with your styling, and Chanhee visibly relaxes once you’re gone. It’s not like he wants to murder you with every fiber of his being, but something about you puts him on edge, and he can’t tell what it is.

“Are you still stressed about the kissing thing, dude?” Kevin asks while packing up his supplies. “Y/N’s just saying that to scare you, so don’t worry. Besides, after you see them in this outfit, you might change your mind.”

Kevin leaves with a wink, and Chanhee is left to scramble for its implications. You can’t possibly look good enough to kiss, right? He’s seen you countless times, and the only time his resolve ever-so-slightly wavered was when he saw you in person about a week ago. That was because you were drunk, though, of course. Not because he was facing you, flesh to flesh, for the first time in his life.

His overthinking ceases though when you step out of your bedroom, and he can’t stop Kevin’s words from floating through his brain.

You’re beauty personified, he thinks, from the tips of your curled hair to the bottom of your glass footwear. The silver-length outfit you adorn is something to die for, heck, you are someone to die for, and Chanhee can’t even breathe because he just imagined you standing next to him and the room is suddenly very, very hot.

“Ready to go?” you ask, adjusting a couple of rings on your fingers.

Chanhee dumbly nods, now realizing why literally everyone is in love with you, and he stands abruptly. He follows you to the front like a puppy dog before you turn around and start giggling. He doesn’t even register you speaking because suddenly, your giggles aren’t annoying and all of your sounds are like songbirds from heaven.

“You forgot your blazer, silly. Here, I’ll get it.”

While you turn back around, walking to the sofa, Chanhee slaps himself. Gently, of course, because he doesn’t want to ruin his face before the red carpet, but just enough to remind himself of his position in this whole scheme. You’re a celebrity, obviously you look good, and he can’t lose his morals just because you look stunning after being dolled up.

You’re a celebrity and he’s a journalist. A journalist who gets paid to antagonize you. Realistically speaking, even just meeting you should have him seeing red. He should not of all things, be pretending to date you, and he definitely should not be reconsidering his life decisions after spending two hours with you.

He just has to get through these four weeks. You’ll be out of sight, out of mind before he even knows it.

“When the cameras start flashing, just look forward. Don’t ever look at them straight in the eye, otherwise, you’ll feel dizzy.”

Chanhee grumbles as you continue rambling, but you can’t find it within you to stop. You’ve never had a public relationship like this, especially with someone who’s not a celebrity, so the desire for perfection is getting to you.

Any small thing could fuck this up and not only ruin Chanhee’s career but yours too. What would the public think if they found out you were lying about a relationship? Heck, you wouldn’t be able to trust your own self after that, let alone the public.

“Y/N, it’ll be okay. It’s just handholding and a hug, right?”

“Yeah, but we need to look like we’re in love,” you huff, your head drooping as you play with your fingers in your lap.

You feel a hand cup the side of your chin, bringing you up to Chanhee’s gaze.

“Look at me,” he starts, thumbing your cheek, “we’ll be fine. Just stare into my eyes like this, and no one will ever doubt us.”

You don’t get to tell him that you might be believing it too with the way you can’t stop gazing at the twinkle in his eyes and the fondness in how they crease. You’ve met many gorgeous celebrities in your life, but not once have you ever felt your heart beat so heavily until this moment.

“We’re here,” Vernon interrupts from the front seat, breaking your intense gaze, “get ready.”

The flashing blinds you as soon as the car door opens, but you’re immune to the glares at this point. Chanhee, however, is not, so your only focus is being by his side until you walk inside the venue. You exit first, waiting until he steps out beside you before interlacing your fingers together and offering him a chaste smile, hoping it’ll calm his nerves.

He grips your hand tighter as you walk, and you both ignore the press shouting from around you. The screams seem extra prevalent today due to his presence, and you hope he isn’t feeling bombarded by the chaos around him. You focus on Chanhee, watching as he stares back at you to ground himself. You walk quickly in unison with him, counting your steps and smiling for the camera as you finally step inside the entryway.

“Are you okay?” you ask after you’re situated, having a few minutes of peace before you’re off to star on the red carpet. “I know that must’ve been a lot.”

“It’s fine. It’s over now. It was chaotic, but it helped to just focus on you.”

A twinge of heat flutters across your cheeks, but you pay no attention to it.

“I’m glad. Don’t worry, we don’t have any more red carpets in our schedule.”

He unlaces his fingers from yours, something you’d completely forgotten about, but you don’t have time to mull over the loss of his warmth before Vernon pushes you to the red carpet to get ready for the pictures. You take deep breaths, reveling in the mere seconds you get before the flashing starts again and you are simply an object for the camera. You pose, striking a big grin for the camera and remembering your media training. This is what you do best, being a celebrity, and suddenly you find comfort in this familiarity after all the turmoil you’ve been through the past couple of days. No Chanhee, no relationship, no headlines, just you and the camera like always.

However, you can’t stop your eyes from wandering when you get a break, watching Chanhee converse with Vernon. You let your daydreams drift, wondering how he would look like posing next to you for the camera, how he would laugh and answer questions about your relationship so giddily, or even how he’d stare into your soul like earlier before, bearing his heart for the taking.

You know that he won’t even meet your gaze after the four weeks are over, but you let yourself indulge in your imagination anyway. You’ve been touch-starved for so long, so it’s only natural that you have these thoughts about affection, right?

You walk back to Chanhee after you’re done, joining him and Vernon as you travel the venue. The place looks spectacular, with intricate chandeliers and a whole buffet of delicacies, and you make it a point in your mind to compliment the mastermind behind this all, Juyeon, when you see him.

Vernon leads you guys over to the food, piling the spring rolls on his plate until you glare at him to stop. Chanhee restrains laughter behind a mouth full of cupcakes, but even you have to agree with Vernon’s eagerness when you take a bite of the macadamia cookies. You’re on your fourth one when Juyeon saunters over to you, his goofy grin ever-so-present on his face.

“Y/N! Long time no see, right? I haven’t talked to you since my party months ago.”

“It’s been too long. I love the venue, by the way. You always outdo yourself.”

“Don’t talk to me about outdoing things. Look at you with your new boyfriend!”

You glance over at Chanhee, who’s busy trying to see how many spring rolls Vernon can fit in his mouth. You grimace, turning back to Juyeon. You know Vernon’s your manager, but sometimes it feels like you have to keep him on a leash instead of the other way around.

“Yeah it’s… a recent development, but I’m happy.”

“I’m surprised you got into a relationship in the first place. After you rejected me, I kinda thought you weren’t looking for love.”

Juyeon clutches his chest in fake agony, and you roll your eyes. Juyeon asked you out years ago when he was the director of your film, and he never fails to bring it up whenever he sees you. You still aren’t looking for love, of course, but your recent news is probably a shock to Juyeon and the many other people you’ve rejected over the years.

“I’m not incapable of love, Juyeon,” you sigh, looking back at Chanhee again, “I just needed to find the right person.”

The word love has never meant anything special to you, but when you look at Chanhee, you feel your heartstrings pull at your chest. Finally having a boyfriend, even if he’s fake, means you have the ability to love and be loved, and maybe you’ve been denying yourself happiness far too long for the wrong reasons.

As you wave Juyeon goodbye, sauntering over to Chanhee, you walk with a change in mindset. The situation you’re stuck in isn’t perfect, but you decide that it’s best to make the most out of it.

“Y/N, watch out!”

Suddenly, your whole world turns upside down, and you brace yourself as you fall backward, watching the twinkling of the chandeliers above you. You shut your eyes as a reflex, expecting the hardness of the wooden floor beneath you, but instead, you feel a strong hand supporting your back. You open your eyes to see Chanhee, but as his orbs bore into yours, all words tie on the tip of your tongue.

This close to him, you can see his faint eyeliner, the slight curve of his nose, and the barely visible mole on his top lips. It feels like the world is spinning still, but as Chanhee breathes, exhaling a soft puff of air, your gaze remains grounded only on him as he cradles you gently.

The sound of a camera startles you both, and Chanhee pulls you up, staring at Vernon. You smooth down your clothing, clearing your throat as you eye the culprit.

“What was that for?” you ask, throat slightly parched by what happened mere seconds ago.

“Whatever practice you guys did together before coming here definitely worked, because this picture definitely looks like you’re in love. I’m gonna leak it to a local magazine, so good job for today’s work.”

Your cheeks burn as he shows you the picture, and your gaze flits over to Chanhee. His expression is indiscernible, and you have the sudden urge to know exactly what’s running through his mind. Was he just as affected as you, or was this just a mere act of kindness?

The rational part of your brain hopes it’s the latter, but the heaviness of your heart might have different aspirations.

Your phone dings as you finish applying the last bits of your mascara, and you pad over to your couch, seeing Chanhee’s text message on the top of your screen.

Be there in five.

It’s been a week since Juyeon’s movie premiere, a week since your heart has practically gone haywire. You’re a celebrity, if anything, you’re the last person to be looking forward to a text, but you found yourself checking Chanhee’s chat every morning and being disappointed when nothing rolled in. Even when Vernon’s picture leaked and the internet blew up over your coupling, his message bar still remained dry and lifeless.

He didn’t have any reason to text you anyway, so you wonder why you always looked forward to one.

You were the one to reach out first, letting him know that you had a date scheduled for Saturday night according to Vernon’s schedule. A meeting once per week was mandatory, just to keep up the image, and today’s plan was a nice, fancy dinner at a restaurant.

Chanhee, like a true gentleman, offered to pick you up instantly after you’d sent him the message, and you let yourself feel elated for five seconds before you texted him the time and place. You don’t know why Chanhee reduces you to a middle school girl longing for her crush, but you suppose it’s just because you haven’t been on a proper date in so long.

You’re dressed in blue satin, a dress you’d had no real reason to wear until today, and you’ve tried your best to clean up without Kevin’s help. You send a quick picture to your stylist as you wait, asking for advice even though you know you always look good, but Kevin just sends you a string of heart emojis in return and tells you that you look perfect.

Three sharp knocks on the door indicate Chanhee’s presence, and you open the door. The words on your throat die down when you realize he’s wearing a similar blue satin to yours, and it only takes one flicker of your eyes to meet his for him to start laughing.

“Are you stalking me or something?” he teases, pulling out a bouquet of fresh flowers.

“What’s this for?” you ask, setting them on the vase inside.

“Vernon told me to. He said you always like getting flowers on a date.”

You haven’t been on a date in years, so you don’t know where Vernon got this information from, but you appreciate the gesture nonetheless. The arrangement of peonies, lilies, and daffodils looks stunning on the countertop, and you post a quick picture to your Instagram story before heading out with Chanhee.

“Do you want the aux?” he asks when you’ve situated yourselves in his car.

The wind blows freely as he drives, the night sky twinkling through Chanhee’s open convertible. The rich red color of his Toyota Solara stands out against the deepness of the blackness around you two, but you can only focus on Chanhee’s side profile and the glittering earrings he’s wearing. Up until this point, you’ve only ever been in spaces you were familiar with. Seeing Chanhee in his own car is a completely different atmosphere for you, and you’re not sure how it makes you feel.

“I’m good. Play whatever you like,” you reply, truly interested to see what type of music he listens to.

Paris in the Rain drifts through the speakers, and you have to fight back a smile at the tune. Of course he would play this song on a night drive, judging by its mellow atmospheric feel, but you’re not mad about it.

“Why did you choose this restaurant?” he continues after the song settles, looking over at you when he pulls to a stop in front of a red light.

You have to recenter your thoughts to answer him, bringing your vision back from how ethereal he looks against the red tones of the stoplight.

“It’s been on my list for a while,” you admit honestly. “It’s also not super high scale, so someone will definitely notice us being there.”

Chanhee nods before quieting down as the red light fades into green. You’ve noticed that Chanhee tends to sit in silence when he’s with you, not interacting as much as he had with Vernon at the premiere. You wonder if he’s just naturally silent and hit it off with Vernon or maybe if he’s just hates you.

“Are you always this quiet?” you voice when he slows down due to traffic, not wanting him to feel alienated by the question.

“Ah, not really,” he says, scratching his head, “I just didn’t know if you were comfortable with me talking since we’re technically just coworkers.”

“Oh,” you voice, not expecting his admission.

You didn’t foresee him being so considerate of your feelings, enough to stop talking completely, and the thought warms your heart. Maybe he’s not such a bad person after all, you think, staring at him expectantly.

“Sorry, I shouldn’t have admitted that,” he expresses. “I can go back to sitting in silence.”

“No!” you exclaim, and he looks over at you with slight alarm, “I mean, it’s fine. You talking is fine. You don’t need to restrict yourself from speaking just because we’re in a work setting. I don’t mind you talking.”

His shoulders relax as he steps on the gas, maneuvering through the gaps of the traffic that’s slowly clearing.

“That’s good,” he mutters, flicking on his blinker, “cause otherwise, this would’ve been a very awkward dinner date.”

You fight back a smile as he pulls up to the restaurant, and you don’t even have a chance to open your own door before he’s unlocking it for you. You thank him politely before walking inside, side by side with Chanhee. You follow the receptionist to your table once she gets your section cleared, and you’re offered complimentary chips and salsa as you wait for your food to arrive.

“You said this place was not ‘super high scale’?” Chanhee questions, looking around at the décor.

Okay, so maybe it is a little bit classy. The mediterranean themed restaurant has a cozy interior, and you’re currently sitting on wicker chairs by a huge glass window. The setting feels very exposed, as if you truly are sitting outside with the stars hanging over your heads. Subtle things about the place remind you that it’s elegant, such as the intricate menus and the tons of cutlery that sits next to you, but you hoped that it was something more comfortable for Chanhee to acclimate to.

“Why, is it too much?” you ask, picking up a chip.

“It’s not, but this is definitely fancy in my world.”

You smile, watching Chanhee be starstruck by his surroundings.

“Just because I’m famous now doesn’t mean I always was,” you start, “before I got my big break, my version of fancy was a dine-in restaurant.”

He laughs, relaxing a little.

“I didn’t know we were so similar. I just always assumed you were a nepo baby or something like that.”

“Just because you hate me doesn’t mean I’m privileged. I worked hard to get here, you know.”

Chanhee nods as your waiter brings out your food, and the two of you immediately dig in. The appealing smells make your stomach hungrier than usual, and it takes a good few minutes for you to settle your appetite before you start conversing with Chanhee.

Now that the awkwardness is gone and that you have a simple understanding of each other, talking with him is easy. Putting aside all the hatred that’s spewed up these past few months, you find out that Chanhee is actually an amiable person, someone you could’ve seen yourself being friends with if you two weren’t so different. He shares stories about growing up and his family in exchange for yours, and you have to clutch your stomach in laughter when he slips in a joke that matches your taste exactly.

Being with Chanhee is natural, so much that you wish you had met him under different circumstances. In addition to being a friendly person, he’s also a gentleman, from the way he slips his card under the menu without you noticing (you definitely scolded him for it later) and opens the car door whenever you get in and out. As he walks you up to your apartment, you thank him honestly for tonight, regretting that your time together is already over for the day.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers suddenly when you’re outside your door. “I’ve written so much shit about you without being an honest judge of your character.”

“It’s okay, Chanhee. This is what you do for a living, I get it.”

“No, you deserve an apology. You’re an amazing actor and an even better human being. You didn’t deserve a single word I wrote about you.”

You’re not tipsy this time around, but you pull him into a hug anyway. This time, you actually mean it though, and you try to disregard the loss of warmth when he pulls away after a few moments.

“Thank you for tonight,” you murmur, stepping into your apartment. “See you next week.”

He smiles, and suddenly, the room is filled with sunshine.

“No, thank you. See you soon.”

You woke up the next morning with a text from Chanhee. The texts have not stopped coming in ever since you responded, as if you’ve opened the floodgates of interaction. You wish he’d texted you sooner, because even though he bombards you with everything in the world from funny memes to just crying about his day, you love returning the same energy.

Where are you rn, a text flies in, and you smile when you see who it’s from.

on set. wbu?

Driving to somewhere special!

oooh spill??

I’ll let you know after I get there

You frown, not so pleased with his secrecy. You hate secrets, and so does Chanhee, so why is he indulging in one right now?

You don’t have time to mull over it as your director calls you back over, ready to continue with the shot. Your costar Younghoon stands before you, smiling as his assistant fixes up his hair before clearing his throat.

“Ready for this scene? It’s a lot,” he comments, reading over the script one more time.

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” you sigh, watching for your director’s call.

The line starts rolling a few seconds later, and you immediately straighten your posture, preparing yourself for the scene.

“Hey,” you whisper, “what was so wrong about what I did?”

He laughs bitterly, pointing to the papers on the desk beside him.

“What was so wrong? You ruined my entire career!”

The papers fly around you as he wipes them off the desk in one sweep, and tears well up in your eyes once you look at his angry gaze.

“I’m sorry,” you plead, clutching onto his arm, “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know this was going to happen, I swear—”

“You didn’t know?” he asks, although it’s more of a statement, “you’re the editor for the goddamn newspaper! Of course you fucking knew this was going to happen!”

He rips his wrist from your fingers, inching away from you.

“It’s my job to write the news, darling. You have to understand—” you cry, dropping to the ground.

The papers shift around you, and you watch your tears drip onto the headlines.

“We’re done,” he utters, one final phrase before he rips off his ring, throwing it by your feet. “Never speak to me again.”

“And cut!” your director shouts, “good work guys. Take 30.”

Younghoon helps you up from the ground, and you whisper gratitude before brushing off your ankles. The wooden floor was uncomfortable to kneel on, but you’re grateful that it was only for a short period of time.

“Y/N!” you hear from the other end of the room, and you peek over Younghoon’s broad shoulders to see a familiar figure waving.

“Chanhee?” you gasp, walking over to him once he register his voice. “What are you doing here?”

“Surprise?” he replies, giving you the bouqet of flowers he was holding. “I wanted to be a good boyfriend and surprise you on set.”

“Thank you,” you reply, grabbing the flowers from his hands before leaning in closer, “did Vernon put you up to this?”

“Um…” he starts, scratching the back of his head, “yeah, definitely. It’s the middle of the week, so why else would I be here?”

You roll your eyes, leaning back before you reach for his arm, squeezing it tightly.

“Thank you, regardless. No one’s ever visited me on set before like this. Even Vernon.”

“Really?” he asks, sounding surprised, “I thought you would have a lot of people around you like that.”

“I have acquaintances, but they’re all busy too. The most someone’s ever done for me is send me a food truck, and that was from my own mother.”

“Well, I’ll be here from now on, then.”

You feel a pang in your chest, and Chanhee must notice the shift in the atmosphere too because he clears his throat. You both know that this arrangement is already halfway over, so why do Chanhee’s words feel so comfortable, as if you both were in a regular relationship from the very beginning?

“Hey, I didn’t mean it like that—”

“Y/N? Is this the boyfriend?” Younghoon interrupts, walking up from behind with an outstretched arm. “Hey, I’m Younghoon, the costar. Nice to meet you, man.”

Chanhee smiles, plastering a smile to cover his previous frown before taking Younghoon’s hand in his, shaking it firmly.

“Nice to meet you too. Y/N’s been telling me about you, so it’s nice to finally put a face to the name.”

Younghoon laughs, removing his hand from Chanhee’s grip.

“Yeah, it’s surreal working on this movie. It’s kinda funny how Chanhee’s a journalist because Y/N plays one in this movie too.”

Chanhee turns to you, surprised by this new piece of information. You’ve been pretty lowkey about the role, not wanting to tell anyone until the movie wrapped up filming, but Younghoon seems to trust Chanhee with the information because he’s your boyfriend.

“Really? I didn’t know.”

You nod in confirmation, grinning slightly.

“Yeah, we just finished up a heavy argument scene before you arrived. Wanna see the set?”

You and Younghoon parade Chanhee around, introducing him to other actors and cast on the set working diligently. Chanhee is in awe, starstruck by the unfamiliar environment and you can’t really blame him. The movie industry in and of itself is a dream, and witnessing it for the first time is probably exhilarating for him.

After your break wraps up, you lead Chanhee out, standing by the front of the garage. He still has stars in his eyes, and you have to nudge his shoulder twice before he pays attention to you.

“Sorry, I just… I wanted to be a director once, so seeing this all is kind of a dream come true.”

Your eyes widen. Whatever you were expecting to come out of his mouth was not even close to what he just said, and you’re still processing his words when you voice your confusion.

“Yeah, that’s how I learned writing and photography. I used to write screenplays and direct them, but I never made it big like I wanted to. Luckily, Sangyeon took me in when I was struggling, and that’s the only reason I have a job today.”

Suddenly, you know nothing about Chanhee. If events had played out a little differently, Chanhee could be standing right in front of you, not as a fake boyfriend but as a director. You wouldn’t be from two separate worlds anymore, and the thought is killing you.

“Do you still direct?” you ask uncertainly, unsure of what to even say after his confession.

“Nah, not anymore. I help my friends out with short films sometimes, but that’s about it.”

“If you ever want to get back into directing, I can help you out.”

Chanhee looks like his breath has been stolen away, staring at you dumbly.

“I don’t know if I can give you a position directly, but I can definitely link you up with fellow directors of mine and see if there are any film festivals looking for submissions.”

“Thank you,” he mutters hoarsely, “I don’t have an answer for you right now, but what you just said means the world to me.”

Chanhee does the unexpected, wrapping you in a hug this time around. It’s meaningful and tender, and he burrows himself into you as he clutches your shoulders tightly, never wanting to let go. The same shoulders that he once tried to pry your hands off are now encircling you, and you smile against his cheek.

“It’s no problem,” you voice honestly, pulling back to look at him. “I’m always here for you, just remember that.”

You told him the last date would be a little different, but seriously, Chanhee was not expecting a van.

You wave from the front seat, putting aside your phone as he scrambles into the front seat. Chanhee quirks an eyebrow at you, urging you to spill, and you take in a deep breath as you struggle to get the words out.

“So… um, you know how celebrity couples usually have pictures of them making out in their cars, right?”

Chanhee stares at you incredulously, and you grimace, biting your lip.

“I know it sounds bad, but it was Vernon’s idea, I promise! We just need to kiss a couple of times for the pictures, that’s it. It can’t be too bad, right?”

“Y/N,” Chanhee sighs, massaging his temples, “are you crazy? We haven’t even kissed once before this.”

“Well, now is a good time to start, right?” you ask sheepishly, “Look, Vernon paid some guys to photograph us, so they’ll be here any time now. Let’s just get this over with.”

Before he can even blink, you clamber over into his lap, resting your legs on either side of his and holding onto his shoulders. Chanhee gulps, too loudly for the silence that settles between you two, and he’s close enough to you that he can feel your heartbeat thumping wildly.

Good to know that you’re just as affected as him too.

You guide his arms around your waist, securing them tightly before looking back up at Chanhee. The last time he’s ever seen you this close is from when he saved you from falling, and somewhere in the depths of his heart, he admits to himself how much he actually missed it. The fluttering of your lashes, the indents of your mouth, and the sliver of your jawline are all something he wants to commit to memory, to burn into his mind before he loses you.

Chanhee would write a whole article just about your lips if he had to.

“Ready?” you ask, so close that he can feel your breath on his.

He nods, and before he can even lick his lips, you lean in, meeting him halfway with yours.

Chanhee feels like he’s in oblivion, completely succumbing to the darkness that you’ve slowly been feeding him with. You’re like poison, and as he slots his lips against yours, he can’t get enough. You’re killing him with the way you pull him in closer, imperceptibly close as if you two aren’t practically molded together already, and as Chanhee uses one of his arms to tilt your neck, you reciprocate with just as much fervor.

You pull back, catching your breath and your chest heaving, but it takes Chanhee only one glance at your swollen lips before pulling you back in again. He’s addicted to the way your tongue swipes across his entrance, the way you shiver as he gently tugs your bottom lip between your lips, and the way you clutch onto his hair as the two of you exchange life through your kisses.

“Just a couple, baby?” he whispers, pecking down the side of your face, “I can give you a lot more than that.”

He tugs your sleeve down as you whine, tilting your head to give him better access to the area. He nips and sucks at your collarbone, biting hard enough to bruise in spots that you’ll probably scold him for later. He wants them to be deep enough, red enough that you won’t even be able to cover them so the whole world will know you’re his, and he knows it’s well worth it with the way you groan as he keeps going.

“I wish could stay like this forever,” you gasp, preening away when he nips behind your earlobe. “I never want to let you go. My boyfriend. Mine. Forever.”

He hums in agreement, pressing a kiss to your neck before he stops. You whimper, angry at him for pausing his ministrations, but as he processes your words, the hazy fog he was in moments prior fades away, and all that is left is the consequences of his actions.

“What’s wrong?” you ask when you realize he’s stopped completely.

Chanhee is shaking from underneath you, glassy-eyed, and his fingers tremble as he removes them from your body.

“Boyfriend,” he dumbly repeats, and you nod before realizing the mistake you made.

“Chanhee, I—”

“Get off me. Please.”

You stare at him incredulously, and when he doesn’t make any move to take back his words, you climb off him and into the seat next to you.

“This is all fake. Why do I keep forgetting that?”

He laughs bitterly, watching as your face morphs into a frown. How could he be so careless, to lose himself in you when this is all clearly just an act?

“Chanhee, I know this was planned, but the way I kissed you was definitely not fake.”

You sound hurt, and if he was in a better headspace, he would be calmer with his words, but the weight of what just happened is sinking down on him hard. Suddenly, he needs to leave, to never see you again and to not spend any more time in this stupid, suffocating van. He opens the door, climbing out before shutting it behind him firmly, breathing in heavily as he staggers away from the vehicle.

“Chanhee,” you cry, running up behind him and grabbing onto his wrist, “you don’t understand!”

“Then help me understand!”

“I like you,” you whisper, and suddenly, his whole world shatters.

“Of course you like me,” he laughs, running a hand over his face. “Do you not realize that you have an insane amount of privilege to be saying that? I can’t even like you in return because my career hinges on hating you! Don’t you get it, Y/N?”

You’re full on sobbing now, observing as he wrenches your hand away from his. Your fingers fall limply to your side and all you can do is watch as he walks away, shaking his head.

“Don’t contact me. I never want to see you again. Fuck you, for real, for playing with my feelings.”

You can only stare as the love of your life walks away, leaving your universe in shambles.

Unfortunately, just because you encountered the worst breakup of your life does not mean the world stops moving.

You’re at another after party, one that you’d been looking forward to for months because it would finally mean you’d get to catch up with some of your old costars. However, after the chaos that had befallen you earlier this week, going to some stupid nightclub was the last thing on your mind.

Really, you’re only here because Vernon is sick and tired of you wallowing in your misery. He thinks that you’ll be getting a change of scenery by being here, but the only thing you’ve been getting is shots filled with the strongest alcohol the bar can offer. Your one goal is to successfully forget about the black-haired man that ruined your life, and your plan is effective until the bartender stops you from getting another round and tells you to get some fresh air.

You grumble as you stumble out of the bar, finding a home on the gray sidewalk in front of it. Your sequined outfit digs into your skin as you sit down, but in your drunken stupor, you can’t find it within yourself to care. You’re lucky enough that this is a nicer venue, because there’s no one around to bother you to find another spot. It’s just you and your thoughts, and you can’t tell if that’s more dangerous or not.

Your first order of business is to pull out your phone, scrolling through your recent contacts. You have half a mind to call Vernon, to curse him out from condemning you to the hell that is this place, but instead your finger hovers over a familiar contact.

You are so going to hate yourself when you wake up.

The line rings, once, twice, thrice, and just as you’re about to cut the call, a voice answers from the other side.

“Y/N, it’s three in the morning. I thought I told you not to contact me,” Chanhee whispers groggily.

“Well too bad! You’re the one that said all that shit to me and left, so how unfair is it that I don’t get my turn?”

The line goes silent before Chanhee scoffs, and you can hear the bedsheets rustle around him as he gets up.

“Are you drunk?”

“Doesn’t matter,” you answer, giggling from how similar this is to when you first met him.

“Where are you right now?”

“Outside a nightclub,” you sing, holding your phone out behind you so he can hear the EDM music from inside a little better.

“Send me your location.”

“Nope! I don’t owe you anything, you piece of shit!”

“Y/N, wait—”

You cut the call, laughing as Chanhee’s name disappears on your screen. He calls again, neverendingly, but you never once pick up, feeling glee from how he’s the one chasing after you now.

You play Candy Crush on your phone until a car screeches beside you, and you scoff as you recognize the familiar red Toyota Solara pulls up beside you. You’ve sobered up by now, but you still hate him just as much.

“Hell no,” you whisper, getting up as Chanhee steps out. You try to run, but the highness of your shoes make it hard for you to run properly, and you stumble as attempt to escape.

“Y/N, look, I’m just going to drop you off at home, okay?”

You stop in your tracks, turning around to see Chanhee behind you with his hands stuffed in his hoodie. You note the eyebags on his face and his chapped lips before speaking to him with a softer tone, grateful that even if he despised you, he didn’t make an attempt to grab onto your wrist and coerce you into something you didn’t want.

“How do I know you won’t kidnap me?” you ask, folding your arms over one another.

“I asked Vernon for your location. If you go missing, he’ll know it was my fault.”

You grumble, staring at him angrily before walking towards his car. He opens the door for you, but you stick your tongue out at him and find a spot in the backseat instead.

The ride is silent, but you feel him watching you through the rearview mirror as he drives. Usually, you don’t mind his silence, but now the stillness is bleak and uncomfortable, just like his presence near you.

“Why did you call me?” he asks, and it takes you a moment to register it because of how intensely you’d been ignoring him.

“I wanted to cuss you out.”

“Okay, so cuss me out then.”

You sigh, rubbing your temple.

“You know what your problem is, Chanhee? You’re self-centered. You think everything is about yourself, even down to our breakup. Who are you to even say things about my privilege when you know damn well how hard I worked to get here? Do you think I’m unaware how my feelings will affect your career? Hell, Chanhee, I literally told you I could help you find another job! I did so much for you to protect you, to support you, all for you to throw it away because you’re scared of the stupid future.”

“Y/N, I—”

“Let me finish. I love you for who you are. Even if we were destined to be opposites, I still found a way to fall in love with you. I was able to love you despite all that you have written about me in the past, so why can’t you love me for the person I am today?”

He pulls up to the front of your apartment, and you clamber out, not wanting to see his face anymore. The rain falls heavily as you step into the lobby, and Chanhee follows suit, shrugging the droplets off his jacket.

“Let me follow you up,” he asks.

You shake your head, but he trails you into the elevator anyway, watching as you press the button for your floor. He opens his mouth to speak, but you’re not in the mood, putting up a palm in front of him.

“Save it. I said what I needed to say. I might be drunk but my words are true. I don’t want to hear anything you have to say in return.”

Despite your words, you let him into your apartment anyway, throwing a towel at him so he can dry off. He pats his hair dry, wiping his glasses against the fabric, and suddenly you’re reminded of how devilishly handsome he is. You shake your thoughts off, chalking it down to good taste in men before wiping down your neck.

The thunder booms outside, startling you as your towel falls to the ground. When you pick it up, Chanhee stares at you, an indiscernible expression on his face.

“Thanks for the towel. I better get going.”

He spins on his heel to leave as the storm crackles, and against your better judgement, you call out for him to stop.

“It’s storming outside. You can’t drive in this weather.”

“What are you suggesting?” he asks, turning back around to meet your gaze.

“You can take my bed. I’ll sleep on the couch.”

Chanhee laughs, as if your idea is so atrocious he can’t even fathom it.

“You’re funny. I’ll just drive home, don’t worry.”

“Chanhee, I’m being serious. I don’t want you to die, for god’s sake.”

Maybe he registered the concern in your voice because he exhales, contemplating in his head if this is a good idea or not. The loud thunderclap outside has him reconsidering, and soon enough, he shakes his head in agreement.

“Alright, but you have to sleep on the bed. I’ll take the couch.”

“Chanhee, I’m not fucking arguing with you. You know what? We can both take the bed if it makes you happy. A pillow between us should work.”

Before Chanhee can even respond, you’re walking into the bedroom, flicking on the light. You grab your pajamas from the closet and change in your bathroom, slipping into the sheets quickly once you’re done. Chanhee follows suit, taking the right side of the bed and placing a pillow between you two for added measure.

“Thank you,” he whispers after a few moments of silence. “I’ll be gone in the morning before you know it.”

“No need,” you grumble, shoving your face into the pillows, “just don’t roll over to my side, okay?”

He hums in agreement, and he watches as your eyes flutter shut.

“Good night, Y/N.”

You’re far too asleep to even respond.

You wake up to the sound of your head pounding in your ears. You grumble, shifting around before you open your eyes, expecting to see empty sheets, but instead you see a man with a very familiar face.

You as the events of last night rush back to you, and you hold yourself back from groaning as you recollect your thoughts. You should’ve just let him leave when he wanted to, but you didn’t, and now you have to deal with his beautiful bare face and his deep morning voice as if you haven’t fallen enough for him already.

You don’t register his eyes fluttering awake until he pokes your side. You shake, startled by his actions, and he tries to hold back a smile.

“Good morning. Sorry I overslept.”

“It’s okay. I won’t be nice enough to let you stay for breakfast though.”

“Wait,” he whispers, clutching onto your arm as you attempt to get out of the bed, “can I say something?”

You nod, and his arms falls back on the bed as he sits up, clearing his throat.

“You were right. I was selfish, and the words I said that day were extremely uncalled for. They were useless too, because if I had just expressed my feelings to you, we wouldn’t have needed to have this conversation now.”

You cock your head, confused at what he’s trying to imply. He takes in a deep breath, as if he’s preparing himself to say something.

“I love you. I love you so fucking much that it hurts to breathe when I think of you. I love you so much that I’m willing to quit my career just to be by your side. I was scared then of ending up on the streets like I did in the past, but I was stupid enough to not trust your words when you said you would help me. I didn’t even like that job anyway, so I was an idiot for trying to fight for something I would eventually end up leaving myself.”

“Chanhee, you’re not—”

“No, I am stupid. And selfish. And self-centered. But I am also just Choi Chanhee, the Choi Chanhee who is irrevocably and utterly in love with you, and even though I can imagine a future where I won’t be working for Sangyeon, I cannot imagine a future without you by my side. I know you deserve better, but I’m begging you to just give me one chance to rectify my mistakes. We can take it slow and not rush things like we did in our four weeks. We can go on silly restaurant dates and I’ll practice getting used to the lights at red carpets. I’ll visit you on set every day with flowers and I’ll rent out five billion vans for us to make out in. I’ll do all this and even more because you deserve it, and because I love you. Will you please let me have one chance to make this fake relationship into a real one?”

You’re kissing him before he can even respond, letting him press you against the bed. He kisses you like he’s been starved, inhaling you and memorizing every inch of your presence as if you’ll let go of him again. Like before, you’re not restricted by the millions of voices against you and Chanhee, and as he lets himself go, you follow suit, dragging him down under until you’re writhing against him, begging for more.

“I love you,” he whispers when he kisses down your collarbone, “I love you,” he whispers when your clothes join the ground, “I love you,” he whispers when you shake against his fingers and mouth.

“I love you,” he whispers one last time, cradling you gently as he becomes one with you. “I’ll never let you go. Never again.”

As you lay against him, bare skin to bare skin, you trace the tips of his hair as you smile. You don’t know what the future holds for you two, but there’s one thing you’re certain of as you press another kiss to his mouth.

"I love you. Even if the world caves in, it’ll be you that I lie with. Endlessly, until my last dying breath.”

This time around, you take things slow, not restricted anymore any more by four weeks, four months, not even four years. You have the entirety of your lifetime to spend with him, and you intend on using every single bit of it.

First, however, you let him make it up to you. Just because you bared your soul to him, figuratively and literally, after his apology doesn't mean you've completely forgiven him.

Chanhee doesn't disappoint though, reminding you every single day why he deserved the second chance you gave him. Once upon a time, he called you privileged, and that's exactly what you are now for having such a sweet boyfriend. One that doesn't leave the vase on your countertop empty by gifting you fresh flowers, one that always opens the door for you when he takes you on apology dates, one that sits with you in silence when you want to and one that chatters just as much as you do when you can't shut your mouth.

He visits you on set when he can despite his busy schedule as an assistant director. Surprisingly, you played no part in this, just the source of his determination when he finally decided to give the movie industry a chance again and bagged a job with none other than your close friend Juyeon. He surprises you for late-night drives and lets you have the aux even without you asking for it. He accompanies you to movie premieres despite hating the cameras and if you ever get asked questions that you don't particularly like, he'll glare at the reporters until they shoo away.

And god, the kisses. If the world counted kisses as an apology, Chanhee would be the CEO. Every slot of his lips against yours is like an unwritten confession from him to you, and every purse of his lips is a ballad from the depths of his heart. He kisses you for trivial things, like when you finally get that one specific line right as you're practicing for a script or when he's pecking you against the makeup trailer walls as he wishes you a successful day at work. He kisses you in the earliest of mornings, murmuring sweetness with his tongue against your hot skin, and he kisses you in the depths of the night, trailing his fingers down as you gasp against his mouth and exchange breaths through each swipe of his tongue.

Even after you do end up accepting his apology, he doesn't stop showering you with the affection you deserve. On nights you're feeling particularly insecure, Chanhee beats himself up and vows to never make you feel those emotions again, waking up the next morning to prove exactly why you're worth it. He takes care of you gently, the gentlest lover you've ever seen. He's the personification of a comfortable morning, the desire to stay in bed despite all the things you have going on. You never want to leave, forgetting all reason and staying in his embrace forever.

You're by his side when his first cinema blows up, when his first screenplay wins an award, when he gets his first nomination for directing, and today when he's on stage with an Academy Award in his hand and a smile you'll remember for ages.

You watch the twinkling in his eyes when he thanks his cast and crew, holding onto his assistant director tightly as he expresses his gratitude. What takes your breath away, however, is when he turns to you in the audience and whispers a confession that you'll never forget in your lifetime.

"And lastly, thank you, you know who you are, for being the best I could ever imagine. I will never regret the moment by the pond where you hugged me, the one that changed the trajectory of our lives forever. If anything, you deserve this award more than me. I love you, my Y/N."

You smile as the audience erupts in cheers, but as his assistant director hugs him on stage, his eyes only bore into yours.

"I love you too," you mouth back, watching as he grins when he recognizes your words.

"Forever and always."

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keegansgf · 1 year

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"pink is nice"

pairing: Valeria Garza x fem reader

synopsis: some domestic fluff backstory on Valeria's pink nails.

word count: 1.3k

tags: domestic bliss, fluff, silly wlw brainrot

A/N: Have you ever noticed Valeria has pink nails?? I have so many headcanons about her because she's just my little silly goose. Yes, she's 100% an artist and yes she has awful seasonal depression. I also think the y/n I've made for her is a beautician who does her hair and nails. Hashtag Valeria apologist lifestyle.

"Sorry that I don't have any more colors! I thought shades of pink, yellow, green, and blue would be cute for spring." You said while Valeria looked at your relatively empty nail polish organizer. "You could go with your usual picks too."

Her brows furrowed, eyes squinted, and she stood with arms crossed, deep in thought. Never have you seen someone so decisive with nail polish– it's cute, though! The people around Valeria could never see her in such a normal state– thank god you were able to witness this. You spaced out and stared at the organizer until she snapped you out of your trance.

"Pink is nice. I think I'll go with that." She kissed your cheek and handed you the nail polish, base coat, and top coat bottles. You fixed the throw pillows on your shared bed for extra cushion, one for you and one for her. She sat beside you in her spot, putting the polish next to you and handing you a nail file.

"You think you can shape them down? I think they're a little overgrown for work." She laughed while pushing her stray hair out of her face, tucking it behind her ear.

"In your terms, they are. I hate filing them down, though... you have such pretty nail beds."

"I wouldn't be able to do my job properly with anything longer, but thank you for the compliment, amor. Sweet as always."

You jokingly groan at her response, continuing to file down her right hand. You both sat in a comfortable quietness, the occasional dog barking or car driving by being the only interruptions. Valeria darted her eyes around the room before circling her sight back to you, the floor, then to her hands. By now, you were working on her base coat. Her focus returned to you when you broke the silence.

"When we first met, I saw you as a purple gal. It's a very royal color historically– it fits you." You said, observing the bottle of hot pink nail polish beside you.

"Really?"

"Mhm. You usually don't pick bright colors, so it surprised me when you chose this. What's the switch up today?" Valeria bit the inside of her lip and looked to the side, trying to come up with an answer. If she had to be honest, it was just a pretty color– one of her favorites, too. She does understand where you're coming from, though. Her nails usually match her everyday closet, which are neutrals and some hints of blue from her jeans, so she opts for either black or shades of nude. They're colors that don't stand out too much but still make her feel pretty wearing them.

"I felt a little special. Spring is here, so it feels less dead, unlike winter. Plus, our anniversary is coming up! I'm in a good mood," She used her free hand to pet your head, not wanting to mess you up by shifting to kiss you. "I think a bright color fits how I feel right now."

You smiled at her genuine happiness. It was rare for Valeria to come home without stress, walking in carrying her anger from a mistake her employees made or a mistake she made herself. Whenever that happens to be the case (which again, is frequent), she isolates herself immediately. Despite her line of work taking a fair amount of collaboration, she works by herself most of the time. That left a lot of speculation about what 'El Sin Nombre' was truly like, and not who Valeria Garza was under her work mindset. It amazes you that you were able to get to know her with how distant she was with the people around her. You're surprised she even wanted to date you– let alone marry you.

"As long as you're happy, I'm happy, love. Speaking of our anniversary, what do you wanna do?"

"Well... I think we could both benefit from going outside. How does dinner sound? We can still cook breakfast and lunch ourselves. I know you like spending our mornings together." She giggles.

"You know me so well." You laughed, finishing the base coat, and started with the main event; the hot pink nail polish chosen by your wife.

"It really is a nice color. It makes me forget the seasonal depression we both got out of." She said, examining the sheer first layer. She was right about the seasonal depression. You both get tired during December, then exhausted trying to start the new year correctly in January and February. It starts getting better in early March when you're finally caught up with life, and the pace quickens to prepare for spring.

"Now you have me wanting to use pink too. I might go with a lighter shade so we can still match."

After about three coats, you were finishing off Valeria's nails with a glossy top coat. She looked at her other hand which was drying to admire your work.

"Good job as always, amor! When can I not trust you with my nails? Thank you."

"It's nothing! Plus, it's been a while since you've taken some time for yourself." Valeria clicked her tongue and sighed, knowing what you were referring to.

"I know, I know. I missed being home, too." The only con to being married to her; she's rarely able to be home, especially nowadays with her bigger plans. As much as you appreciate the precious texts and phone calls while she's hours away from home, dealing with something work-related, it's hard to cope with life going on without her home. Your co-workers always see you mope around whenever Valeria is long-distance, and she's more serious than usual while operating away from home. You completed each other so perfectly– it was like tearing the sun and moon apart when you weren't together.

Every conversation you and Valeria had brought you closer; it was the reason you both took interest in each other from the start. One of the more hidden interests she had was art. She isn't into doing her own art– at least not often, but she could talk about how it impacts her for hours. You remember you were on a walk with her while admiring the street art of Las Almas after coming home.

"What made you start liking street art so much? You talk about it so passionately."

"Las Almas wouldn't be itself without the street art. I think it shows the community and the will of the people. I like it for that."

"Do you have a favorite piece?"

"Hmm... I don't think I could pick one if I tried. You're always my favorite work of art, though."

It makes you glad that she sometimes treats her trips as art tours, sending you murals in a new town she arrived in. Sometimes you think in another reality, Valeria pursued art and wouldn't be as stressed and overworked as she is now. But as long as she's happy with her life, all is fine.

"Alright, they're dry- ah!" You got pulled into a hug while Valeria laid back on the bed, bringing you down with her. She peppered your face with kisses before deeply kissing your lips and burying her face in your neck.

"Thank you again. I love you." She said, sighing into you. You were on your sides facing each other while her arms were on your waist.

"I love you too. You're welcome, by the way." You giggled, wrapping your arms around her, enjoying her loving embrace. You stayed just like that for a minute, savoring the warmth before Valeria spoke again.

"Do you want to get snacks and watch a movie together? I call it an early anniversary celebration." She said while getting up on her elbows and giving you a wink. "I may have been able to work a little extra last month to be around you more."

"Of course, I want to." She got off your shared bed, helping you up to go pick movie snacks with her.

"Alright, let's go. This week will be just for us, I promise."

#valeria garza #valeria mw2 #valeria x reader #valeria garza x reader #cod #cod mw22 #domestic bliss #domestic fluff #call of duty #call of duty modern warfare 2

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fullsunised · 1 year

Text

NCT DREAM REACTION: CHAPTER FOUR

╰─▸ ❝ @ nct dream x idol! reader

→ when you get shipped with each other- massive crushes on each other

→ requests: open

→ trigger warnings: none?

→ a/n: BRO IM SO FUCKING STUPID- I WAS MEANT TO SAVE THIS AS A DRAFT BUT INSTEAD I POSTED IT WITH THE REQUEST THING, HALF DONE- BRO IM GONNA GO UNALIVE MYSELF HOW AM I GONNA LIVE LIKE THIS STOP ANW- HOPE THE PERSON THAT REQUESTED THIS FINDS IT. THANK YOU FOR THE LOVE</3 I LOVE YOU MORE ☺️

ready to love

MARK LEE

boy's shy asf. he had a crush on you- that was painfully obvious and when your fans point it out, he's shy asf. after he finds you two trending on twitter, bros red asf first.

after that he's gonna send you a message asking if you were uncomfortable with all this- because he cares, he doesn't and would never want to put you in an awkward position. when you tell him how you find this cute, he'd be elated bro.

you know he's making and discussing with his members on how to ask you out fr.

RENJUN HUANG

he's gonna pretend like it doesn't affect him. like 'yeah, we get shipped together so what' types. he likes you of course, but his whole personality is about being cool- so he is cool.

that is until you send a post you came across about how he looks at you while your talking, and boy is he embarrassed. he's gonna play it off cause it's text but when you see him again the next day for a shoot, he'd be too shy to meet eyes.

he wouldn't ask you out instantly because he wants to make sure, you knew each other better before moving to the next step.

JENO LEE

confused. what did he do that his fans are shipping you two? but he enjoys it for sure. like come on, the way he looks at you, bro like you're the only person that matters to him. you're fans definetly caught on that.

he'd be funny about it. well, not like make jokes about it but take it with a pinch of salt. you two would be sharing moments captured by your fans, and tease each other about it for long until-

he actually becomes serious and asks you out.

HAECHAN LEE

it isn't haechan if he doesn't tease you. boy is gonna scroll through to all the 3 million tweets to find the one tweet where you are the one simping for him and not the other way around. calls you adorable, ruffles your hair and all that just to make fun of you, and to give your fans more to write about.

but when you send back all the other tweets where he is literally staring at you with heart eyes, boy's is gonna be shy. he's gonna start acting defensive and shit. you'd find it so adorable that you'd tease him too.

after a few months of frequent teasing, you'll finally ask him out cause he was taking ages. even though he finds it hot, he whines because he wanted to be the one to ask you out.

JAEMIN NA

man he's smiling. like always, while looking at you, while hearing you speak, while scrolling through all the tweets, while watching your moments on youtube. he's just so lovestruck it's concerning.

after he sees how much your fans support you two, he won't hide his crush anymore. bro will randomly hug you, set your hair for you, click pictures- all the boyfriend material stuff without even being your boyfriend.

it would take him not long to ask you out, and from them you two would be gracing the world with your presence as a couple.

CHENLE ZHONG

shy- nah maybe cocky. as soon as he notices how your fans have been screaming for the both of you, he's smiling. he'll make more moments for you two cause he can.

because your fans enjoy you two together- he'd frequently take you out to eat, your crush him would grow stronger during these times- not because he's treating you but because you enjoy his presence.

you two appearing on each other's lives would be so frequent that your fans are sure you're dating. he asks you out and yeah the rest is calm.

JISUNG PARK

boy's blushing so much. you are done shooting and go home when he notices the hashtag on twitter. smiling, and blushing cause he loves it but is shy too.

the next time he sees you again, he won't be able to maintain eye contact because he's too flustered to look at you. when you're not looking though, he'd steal glances.

when it comes to asking you out, his members have to reassure him that you feel the same- and after hours and hours of convincing boy will confess.

fullsunised.

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brujawrites · 1 month

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✧ ˚ · . 𝐚𝐝𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐝 —

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟐: "𝐌𝐨𝐤𝐚 𝐩𝐨𝐭 𝐌𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐚𝐲, 𝐢𝐭'𝐬 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝 -- 𝐇𝐞𝐲, 𝐲𝐨𝐮,"| masterlist | next chapter

contains: suguru x female reader, utahime iori, college au, modern setting, college!suguru, english major!suguru, pining, slow burn, eventual smut, sexual tension, secret crush, developing relationship, 18+ ONLY MDNI

synopsis: cozy cafe date where reader gets to know suguru a bit more! nervous feelings all a flutter! more story set up, including meeting reader's roommate & an unexpected invitation! ao3 - kofi - playlist - pinterest

"A small concern with how the engine sounds -- We held darkness in withheld clouds,"

— "Keep Driving", Harry Styles

Winter was very much still in season, but the cozy booth in the cafe near campus was warm enough with Suguru’s company. You were a little surprised when he suggested getting a coffee, but grateful for the chance to talk with him one-on-one. Suguru sipped on a flat white, listening to you talk about your method to tackling a shit ton of reading.

“It sounds really extra, but it helps me pick up on themes and patterns really quickly. Plus,” you continued after taking a sip of your dirty chai latte. “It makes the reading feel like a scavenger hunt.” As fascinated as he was by your strange method of note keeping, Suguru was still struggling to understand the method entirely.

“A hashtag system...,” he mused aloud.

"Actually, it's a self-made index," you corrected him with a playful grin. It was rare for you to feel this enthusiastic about something mundane with someone else. “Sorry, let me relax a bit,” you said, reeling in your enthusiasm. Suguru grinned widely.

“No, no, it’s okay, it’s cute,” he replied, prompting you to lift your drink to your lips. You hoped the rising steam from the hot tea masked the flush spreading across your face. Suguru's gaze darted back to his cup, searching for a new topic. Grateful for the shift, you welcomed the change, "So, in your self-made index, did any themes or patterns stand out to you from the reading?"

“Well, Wuthering Heights is named after the manor. It’s a novel based on a place. The place is crucial. The atmosphere, the deterioration of the house," you listed points you had notated in your index for class. Suguru’s deep brown eyes were challenging to hold contact with as you spoke. It felt like he was absorbing every word you uttered. Maybe you just weren’t accustomed to that level of attention, especially not from the guy you’ve been eyeing for the last couple of years.

“Okay, wait, this is actually making a lot of sense,” he mused. “I think I’m… impressed?” His unexpected admission caught you off guard, and you blinked in surprise at his words.

“Why? Because there’s a meaning to my madness?” You smirked at the boy playfully. “When you reduce the interesting parts of the story, like the failed upkeep of Wuthering Heights overtime, Heathcliff’s disposition — well, just reduce it to a simple word that describes it, and it turns out deterioration is a huge theme.” You paused to analyze Suguru’s expression; silent, stoic, listening… or possibly bored? The unreadable mask on his face made it hard to decipher his thoughts.

“So, you just take those thematic concepts to build an argument, keeping track of the quotes that touch on the themes, then later when you’re writing a paper, or trying to contribute to the class discussion, you just flip through your notes, and boom.” You meet his gaze again, trying to wrap up your little demonstration quickly. “It argues for itself.”

Even if you weren’t boring him or talking too much, just the notion haunted you. You found yourself scanning the cafe, half-expecting familiar faces to distract you or save the conversation. A sudden vulnerability crept in, an unsettling feeling you hoped wasn’t plastered on your face. Despite eagerly awaiting Suguru’s response, you just felt yourself becoming a little too... conspicuous. Visible? Was that the right word?

As he absorbed your words, Suguru found his mind drifting from the conversation at hand to the growing intrigue about the girl before him. It wasn’t that he hadn’t noticed you before, but he'd never made an effort to catch your attention. Last year, during that poetry class, he only caught a glimpse of you, but the aftermath left him feeling a bit… off-kilter. Chagrin? Was that the right word? Suguru had never been the polished academic type, so despite putting in considerable effort, it didn't always reflect in his grades.

To him, you were almost out of reach. Almost unreadable. He hadn’t stepped up to the challenge that is you, but this semester — his last semester — why shouldn’t he? Getting to sit with you while you talked him through your complicated note taking process was nice, but he wondered if he could somehow get you off that topic.

“So this is how you managed to ace Professor Sheppard’s Form & Theory class last spring?” He asked, genuinely interested, but the smirk on his face threw you off. He wasn’t making fun of you, was he?

“I honestly don’t know what happened in that class. Or the one I took with him last semester.” You admitted, hoping to come across humbly. Suguru’s eyes widened at your statement.

“You’re shitting me,” he said in disbelief. ��You took another class with that asshole?” The laughter spilled from your mouth before you knew it was there. Obviously the disdain for that professor was common among the English Department at your university, but expressing it aloud seemed so taboo.

“Yeah, dude,” you nodded soberly. “And what makes it worse is he used me as an example for the class.”

“What?” Suguru looked genuinely annoyed for a second before you realized how bad ‘ being used as an example’ sounded.

“Oh!” Your hands waved him down like he was a flame you were trying to shoo away from getting too big. “Not like that, he just made me seem like a star student. He bragged about my organization skills and…” your voice trailed off thinking back on the fall semester from hell you just escaped. “It was pretty bad. Last semester was hard on my mental health, you know?” You left it at that, not wanting to dive too deep into details unprompted.

Meeting Suguru's gaze felt like being ensnared; there seemed to be no escape from his piercing eyes.

Meeting Suguru’s gaze felt like a giant spotlight; there seemed to be no escape from being perceived by him at that moment. He was focused on your words, waiting for the next couple of sentences to fall from your lips. The truth of the matter is last semester was the lowest you’d ever felt and you weren’t sure how appropriate it was to bring up such personal issues. Lowering your eyes in response, Suguru somehow got the hint you didn’t give.

He glanced down at his watch before meeting your gaze again. “I get it. If you ever want to talk about it more, you know where I am every Tuesday and Thursday morning,” he grinned sheepishly before gathering his coat & bag. “I’ve gotta run to catch this sociology lecture, but let’s hang again.” His smile almost left you stunned.

“Of course, Suguru,” you said with a smile. “See you Thursday.” As he stepped away towards the exit and to class you took it upon yourself to use the rest of your time as productively as possible. Taking out your laptop, you started to go through the motions of opening up your calendar, checking your email, and other general housekeeping, but stopped when you reached for your drink and saw Suguru’s cup.

Your lips pressed into a small smile as you started to process the moment you were so desperately trying to disconnect from. You just had coffee with Suguru Geto. A smile crept up on your lips at the thought of him giving you his attention as you spoke. A brief lapse of insecurity ran through your core as you worried how you came across. He had seemed friendly enough, but, ultimately, you worried about being overwhelming. Sharing too much. Being too much.

Suguru didn’t think that of you, though. In fact, as he moved away from your conversation, a renewed curiosity swirled within him. Thoughts of how to recreate that moment lingered in his mind, weaving through various scenarios. And to think you were about to open up to him. A subtle, knowing smile played on his lips as he made his way across campus to his next lecture with a lightness to his step. He could sense so much just beneath the surface of your expression, he knew he could figure you out. At least, he hoped.

The rest of the day went by unassumingly. After attending another lecture, you trudged back to your apartment through the wintry slush that lined the sidewalks. The second you unlocked the front door and stepped inside, your nose was greeted by the sweetness & warmth of cinnamon. Kicking off your shoes, you yelled out your arrival to Utahime before moving towards the kitchen.

“Oh, hey!” Utahime greeted you with a big smile. “I’m making milk and rice.” she was all bundled up in a snuggie and slippers as she stirred the pot full of your favorite dessert.

“It smells so good, dude,” you breathed in the aroma almost desperately before turning to take a seat at the small table in the kitchen. There is a part of you that wants to gush about your first class of the day and how you’ve effectively launched a self-imposed campaign to get to know Suguru Geto before graduation. How he called you cute , how could you forget that till now?

“I figured after being so brave & tackling the first few days of class in such horrible weather, we deserved a treat.” You couldn’t agree with her more. She began to serve scoops of the concoction into bowls, sprinkling cinnamon on top as an extra garnish. Having Utahime as a roommate was nice. She really cared for you like a big sister.

When you joined the sorority, you had been getting to know girls for maybe three weeks before your Big was assigned to you, the Little. They were meant to be mentors for the new members to look up to & get guidance from them, so a lot of the pairings were based on similar goals or habits you two may have shared. You remember having to rank on a scale of 1-5 in level of importance different categories like “leadership,” “philanthropy,” or “social life,” -- and you, as ambitious as ever at nineteen years old, prioritized leadership; this was before you realized nobody actually cared about anything other than impressing fraternity boys from high ranking fraternities. The #1 match for you was -- surprise, surprise -- Utahime Iori, the current Vice President at the time you joined.

Other than your ambition, there were just a handful of things you two had in common, but you really admired her. She carried herself with gravity and grace which was something you felt you could stand to learn a bit more about. There were parts of you that you kept away from her, like your smoking habit, she knows about who you hook up with, but never the details. There were times where you were sure she was disappointed in a couple decisions you’ve made in that area, but she was always there for you at the end of the day. This was your second year living together in the three years you’ve known each other. Lucky for you, she chose to enroll in your university’s master program instead of going elsewhere, so you were able to keep your roommate.

She really did care about you, but, no, you decided you wouldn’t bring up Suguru and your little coffee date this morning. Not until it actually became something. You silently began to snack on the milk & rice Utahime made for the both of you when she excitedly gasped to get your attention.

“Oh, there’s an unofficial mixer with Pike on Thursday night!” she beamed at you, trying to gauge your reaction. Even in her master program, Utahime maintained such strong connections in her social circles that she was telling you about mixers before actual active members were able to. “It’s Jersey Shore themed,” she grinned like an idiot while you laughed off your sour face.

“Everybody’s so creative,” you mused sarcastically. She nodded while taking a sip from her tea.

“Yeah, right? I know exactly what I’m wearing though. I figured we could pre-game here with a couple sisters before ubering over there fashionably late.”

By “fashionably late,” Utahime was referring to the unspoken rule about mixers. The university representatives set rules in place to avoid things like hazing or underage drinking. Mixers are required to have a 30 minute sober period, but after that it’s anyone’s game. Most of the time what happens is everyone shows up 35 minutes late, treats the mixer like a pregame, & once the party starts itself the fraternity usually opens up their doors and sends out their address to begin hosting the weekend’s parties.

“So, you’re coming, right?” Utahime pressed the question with her intense eye contact. This probably had something to do with how reclusive you became last semester. You would miss out on functions, leave parties unannounced and by yourself, only to end up walking home alone through the rain, and writing some sort of melodramatic poem. Utahime never understood why you got in those moods, she definitely didn’t know how to help other than to encourage you to branch out. You looked up at her and smiled.

“Yes, I’ll go with you.” Finishing up your bowl of rice, you stood up before placing it in the sink. “I’ll start putting together my outfit,” you added, leaving the kitchen to retire to your room.

#jjk x reader #jjk fanfic #geto fanfic #suguru x reader #suguru geto x reader #suguru geto fanfiction #jujutsu kaisen x reader #geto x you #suguru x you #jjk au #geto suguru

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corrodedcoffins-blog · 5 months

Text

The Trip To Cornelia Street

main masterlist

spencer reid x famous!reader universe

word count: 1.5 k

warnings: slut-shaming? i think thats all

Being away from Spencer was hard, especially when they had just spent a week together. But now they were both in New York, Spencer here on a case and Y/N staying at her rented place on Cornelia Street. Sadly though, being as Spencer was here for a case she didn’t know exactly when he would get off and be able to come see her. So Y/N had gone to a bar, wanting to see her girl friends. But god, she couldn’t have picked a worse time.

Y/N phone would not stop going off in the back pocket of her jean shorts, grabbing it to turn off her notifications, she sees messages from some of her friends that weren’t with her now, asking if she was okay? Why would she not be okay? Y/N takes a step towards the bar to sit and check twitter. One of the biggest mistakes people make everyday.

Kim Kardashian had posted an altered video of Y/N saying she approved the lyrics. God it felt as if Y/N world had come crumbling down, some of things people were saying. Calling her a liar, and playing the victim card. The bar suddening started getting hotter, felt like it was closing in on her.

Y/N called her car, after she got out of the bar her fresh air. She then sent her friends, who are still in the establishment, a text saying she was leaving and that they should stay and have fun. She didn’t want to ruin her friends' nights.

Her car arrives, not leaving her waiting long. Sitting in the backseat of the car, her mom texting and trying to call, all Y/N wants to do, the only person she wants to talk to is Spencer. She knows he was on a case, but it was very much possible that tey had finished the case. They had been on it for four days. Maybe it was her emotional state or the few drinks she had in her, but nonetheless Y/N called Spencer. Miraculously Spencer answered after the third ring.

“Hey, baby.” His voice was soft, yet raspy at the same time. He must had been just going to sleep.

“Hey.” Y/N’s voice breaking as she speaks, it was at this moment she realised she was crying.

Spencer on the other line, sitting up in bed at the tone in her voice asking, “Baby, are you okay? What's wrong?”

She said “I’m fine.” but they both knew it wasn’t true.

“I know you’re not fine. What happened?”

“They hate me.” Her voice breaks again.

“Who-who hates you?”

“Everyone. You remember- of course you remember.. I told you about the lyrics in Kanye’s song about me?” She waits to hear him mumble a quick ‘mhm’ before continuing, “And when Kim s-said that I knew about the lyrics, well she… She posted an altered video that sounds like I agreed. And now everyone hates me. Y/N L/N is over party is trending worldwide. They hate me.” Y/N says struggling, having to pause a couple times to wipe tears or sniffle

“Love, where are you?”

“You can’t come, you have a case.”

“No, not anymore we solved it. Where are you?”

“I-I’m uh in my car.. Going to my place on Cornelia Street.”

“Okay I’ll meet you there. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

At this point Spencer had calmed Y/N down enough, with a bath, and sweet cuddles, mixed with even sweeter kisses. Spencer had asked for a few days off to help take care of Y/N, Hotch gladly let him, knowing Spencer wouldn’t ask unless it truly was important.

It was now the next day. Whenever Y/N was with Spencer he hadn’t let her on social media, but with Spencer in the shower there was sadly no one there to stop her. Y/N reading tweet after tweet with the hashtag Y/N L/N is over party. Tweets saying she was a liar, always been a bitch, and a slut. Someone saying she’s a mess, and that her new hot boyfriend should get out now, that she didn’t deserve anyone. Y/N couldn’t help but agree, she never thought she deserved Spencer and now with someone else saying it and thousands agreeing, it clearly had some truth. But the worst came when someone replied with a picture of Spencer hugging another girl. No one she recognized, it surely wasn’t any of the women on his team.

Was he just leading her on, did he love someone else? She trusted him, she thought he was worth trusting.

Y/N was in an emotional, and irrational state, there was no logic to her next move, of leaving the rented house, without saying goodbye to Spencer. She quickly packed her bag, while Spencer was still in the shower, then she left. Not leaving a note, just leaving.

Spencer walked out of the bathroom with a towel around his waist, walking towards his and Y/N’s shared bedroom. Seeing the room in a dishevelled state, one of Y/N’s suitcases, and quite a bit of her clothes gone. Spencer immediately calls Y/N, pacing around the bedroom as he lets the phone ring several times, Y/N not answering. Spencer decides to get dressed while he continues to call. Placing the phone on the bed, on speaker, slipping his pants on, buttoning the buttons of his shirt. Spencer was borderline ready to call the team, worried out of his mind. Until Y/N had finally picked up.

“What do you want, Spencer?” Y/N asked harshly, she never spoke to him in this tone. And never calls him by his full name. It’s also Spence, or baby, or his favourite my love, never Spencer.

“Where are you? Where did you go- why did you go?”

“I saw the pictures of you and that woman, Spencer.”

Once again with her tone, it told Spencer that she was not in the least bit joking. Yet he had no idea what she was talking about. Him and another woman? Anyone would be stupid to do that to a woman like Y/N, and Spencer is provably a genius. Not to mention that he had no idea how he got Y/N to go out with him, he couldn’t do it again if he tried.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, baby.” Hearing him call her ‘baby’ caused a tear to drip out of her eye, not being able to handle it, not being able to handle the idea of losing him.

“Spencer. I saw the picture of you with a red head, you were hugging her. Your hands were on her waist.”

At that Spencer had finally registered what she was talking about. He had seen the cameras yesterday, taking pictures of him while he was getting victims of the serial arsonist they were dealing with. The woman in question he was hugging, her son hadn’t existed the building yet. Spencer comforting and holding her so she didn’t run into the building herself.

“Y/N no- please come back so I can explain. And I do have an explanation.”

“I want to hear it then.”

“Okay.. That woman was a victim of a serial arsonist and her son wasn’t out of the building yet. I was holding her back from running inside. I didn’t tell you, because I know you don’t like to hear about the bad side of my job. I’m sorry, I should have told you when I saw people taking pictures, so this didn’t happen.”

Boy, did Y/N feel stupid, with all her past relationships it seems she always expects the worst. But Spencer wasn’t like all the other guys she’s dated he was better, kinder, gentler, definitely smarter, yet she still expects the worst in him.

“Spence, I’m so sorry.”

“No. You don’t have to be sorry, I didn’t tell you.”

“You shouldn’t have to tell me every time you comfort a victim, that’s your job. And I promise I won’t run away like this again, I’ll talk to you first.”

“Okay, are you coming back then?” Spencer’s voice sounded small when he asked, like he wasn’t sure if Y/N needed more time. It made Y/N smile, he was so god damn adorable, and she loved every bit of him.

“Yeah, I’m turning around now. I love you.”

“I love you too, Sweetheart.”

The next few days were spent at the Cornelia Street house, cuddled together on the couch, each taking turns picking movies to watch. Which caused weird combinations like the 2002 ‘Solaris’ movie, Spencer had gone on and on about the original being a 5-hour long movie in Russian, not that Y/N minded, she always loved listening to Spencer talk about topics he knew a lot about, which happens to be almost any topic she could think of. ‘Solaris’ was followed by ‘Mean Girls’ which was quite a culture shock for Spencer.

They spent the night in the secret oasis of their bed, sharing sweet kisses, and gentle touches. It was a good escape for Y/N given all that was going on with her name at the moment. Spencer was a great escape for her.

#spencer #reid #spencer reid #spencer reid fic #spencer reid x famous!reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x singer!reader #dr spencer reid #spencer reid headcanon #spencer reid x you

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chengtheauthor · 1 year

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Paddy Gibson x famous!reader (social media au) pt. 4

A complete timeline of Y/n Y/l/n and Patrick Gibson's relationship:

One of Hollywood's most beloved and chaotic couples, Y/n Y/l/n and Patrick Gibson, seem to have a perfectly-balanced relationship, particularly when they take turns lovingly trolling each other on social media. The pair began dating in the beginning of 2023 and are now expected to get hitched in the beginning of 2024. It might seem fast, but they have proved that friendship is a great foundation for a relationship. Alongside some chaos.

February of 2023

The premiere of the original Netflix rom-com movie, Paper Rings. Both y/n and Patrick are part of the cast. Fans couldn't help but notice the vehement chemistry they share on screen and off screen, despite being the side characters of the show. Twitter had a whole meltdown after the so-called "chokehold" conversation they had during the press tour. Making the hashtag "whentheyhavemorechemistry" trending. If you read the first part of this fic, you know.

March of 2023

Y/n shared an appreciation post on Twitter about Freddy Carter and Ben Barnes, while Patrick was cut out of the picture. Making a hilarious banter. At that same time she also gushed about how hot Nikolai Lantsov is. Is it really Nikolai whom she's talking about or Patrick?

April of 2023

The soft launching began. Patrick has been sharing his vacation in a series of Instagram posts. Y/n happens to also be on vacation. Eagle eyed and attentive fans are quick to connect the dots of the hints that both actors are giving. Though, the soft launching did not last long as Patrick "accidentally" posted the same picture as y/n. Confirming that they are in a relationship.

Y/n also greeted Patrick on both her Instagram and twitter a happy birthday. Of course, this created another chaotic banter between them.

May of 2023

Y/n and Patrick shared a glimpse of their dinner date. That same month, the met gala was held and Patrick couldn't help but gush over his girlfriend.

August 2023

Patrick was spotted at the vip section of y/n's concert. He was seen blushing when one of the songs written for him was played.

December of 2023

Y/n announced their engagement by posting a picture on Instagram. They were later trending on Twitter. Fans quoted it that their wedding might be the most chaotic and fun wedding to ever happen in the future.