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#lighting mcqueen day
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HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY 🥰❤️ (even though I don't celebrate it bc I'm single XD)
I originally wanted to draw more Cars couples, but unfortunately I didn't have enough time to draw all of them, so I chose to draw just the two most prominent characters in Cars and their girlfriends 😊
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willczek-art · 1 year
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My piece for the @souyozine !! :D
Leftover sales are now open, so grab a copy while you still can! :P
Being a part of this zine is my personal highlight of the year, it's been SO MUCH FUN and everyone did a FANTASTIC job and aklsdfghjk-
It's been an honour Souyo Fam <3
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apollo11fangirl · 6 months
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Cars 3 au
So after Lighting's third cup win, Doc has a heart attack and ends up in a coma for years. Lighting visits him when he can, but in his mind Doc is all but dead. A living corps if you will.
After Storm comes onto the scene, Doc wakes up and begins the process of recovering. He doesn't tell him since he wants to supperise him by showing up at Daytona. Just like the first time. Saddly he doesn't get to do that. Just as he getting the mic on to talk to him, Lighting crashes.
Doc is frozen in fear for a moment as he takes a breath to focus himslef. He then runs to Lighting as emergency personnel come to get him. The last thing Lighting sees before he passes out is Doc's face telling him that he will be alright.
Doc takes this crash hard as he stands watch over Lighting. He waits for him in surgary and plans how he will recover from everything. When Lighting wakes up, he is in shock that Doc is alive and is funtcing well. The last he heard Doc wasn't doing well even in his coma, yet some how when he heard Storm over take him and will, Doc woke up.
The two of them start the road of recovering. Rustezs on the other hand starts demoing Cruz as a new driver. They see her to be a better driver in the long run as Lighting and the team is getting older. Doc hears the news and decides to take Lighting to his hometown to get some practice in.
They meet up with the Barn Stormers, and Lighting starts to learn how to draft. Doc keeps up there old training regimen as they try and get an edge. One night the two of them get into an argument about how lighting thinks this won't work since Doc crashed and never got the chance to recover. Doc keeps trying to tell Lighting that, that's what he trying to avoid.
Unfortulatly for the two of them they here the news that Cruz is the driver for Rusteze and that they dropped Lighitng. At this point Lighting just runs off. Leaving Doc to find him.
Smokey tells Doc that he saw him dash to the trailor. Doc follows that and sees Lighitng pack everything up. Doc ask why and and lighting says what else can he do and trys to leave. They then have a long conversation about how Lighting can't leave and that yes Doc has no clue what to do now, but they will make it through together.
After that they make there way to Smokey's Garauge and Lighting sees all the leters that Doc sent and how they knew of Doc's plan to come back to Lighitng after recovering from in the hospital.
At that moment, Louise comes past telling them to get on the phone. Tex after hearing what happened to Lighting tells him he didnt' forget the prosmis that he made all thoese years ago. Lighting is now going to be racing with DInaco. Doc then gives his permission to use his number and paint skeem on Lighting's car.
Doc and the rest of the Barnstormers head south to Daytona. Once they get there Ramone quickly wraps the car since they don't have time to paint it. Lighting comes on the track as 'The Faboulus Lighitng McQueen'.
Storm just asumes that Lighitng will be easy pickings that is until Lighitng starts to out smart him. With Doc in his ear the whole time he wins first place.
While Cruz is happy for Lighting, even though she did take his ride. Storm trys and ask how on earth could Lighitng even win. Doc and Lighitng simply say that dirt does help out with that.
The rest of Lighting's career he is consistently in the top ten with Storm, Cruz, Bobby, and Cal. Also, Tex buys Rusteze and Bobby's team as well not to separate the track family they made.
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island-monkie · 2 years
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They're all connected and all related.
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perfettamentechic · 9 months
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Summer Outfit by Paola Moretti
Outfit by Paola Moretti #outfitoftheday #ootd #wwt #outfit #fashionstyle #summer #summerstyle #summeroutfit #bluestyle #rebeccavallance #stuartweitzman #susannechow #lelesadoughi #alexandermcqueen #sarahzhuang #iho #paolamoretti #perfettamentechic
Abito: Rebecca Vallance Scarpe: Stuart Weitzman Borsa: Susanne Chow Orecchini: Lele Sadoughi Occhiali: Alexander McQueen Anello: Sarah Zhuang Fashion Blogger: Paola Moretti Instagram: paolamorettiiho
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pavanwalvekar · 1 year
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dvrcos · 2 months
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Andrew Minyard mic’d up if aftg took place today and the Foxes did social media promo
Andrew absolutely refuses to be mic’d up for a long time
When he finally agrees to do it it’s during a game against the Jackals
Everyone is sure it’ll be a bust and they won’t get much of Andrew actually talking
But to everyone’s surprise, Andrew turns his inner monologue outwards and doesn’t shut up
He commentates the game from his perspective
‘And there’s the son of Exy Kevin Day running the ball up- and oh yeah no he’s down for the count’ *huffs a laugh through his nose*
‘The other fuckers have the ball now, if my brother dearest let’s them get it to my goal I’ll kill him’
And when the opposing teams striker trips Aaron up and gets past to Andrews goal he shuts them out of course
‘He’s dead. Find a new backliner coach’
When he gets bored of the game and the backliners are keeping the ball away from his goal he starts to sing
He does a full rendition of “Life is a Highway” because Neil and him watched Cars on the bus ride to the game
And he gets into it
He makes the guitar noises with his mouth and everything
He even sings it in the best low, country voice he can do
He interrupts himself in the middle of the song suddenly, feeling the need to give his full synopsis and review of Cars
‘If I was the stupid fucking car and I fell out of my sentient truck/trailers ass I would keep driving in the same fucking direction. Simple’
‘Josten would do the same thing as Lightning McQueen. He would fuck up an entire town, he’s already done it once actually, when he came here.’
‘Stupid junkie, I hate him’ he adds but there’s a fondness in his voice
‘How do the cars reproduce? Are there humans in this universe that build cars and then make them sentient? Do the cars bang?’
Halfway through his rant one of the strikers gets past Matt and Aaron and he doesn’t even stop talking when he smacks the ball halfway across the court
When the other teams strikers start breaking through the backliners more frequently Andrew doesn’t even seem to care
He just swats every attempted goal away, squawking a quite ‘mine’ like the seagulls from Finding Nemo after hitting each one
Mine *smacks* mine *swats* mine *swish*
He keeps his goal almost completely shut down the entire game, spare a few times when the other team can get the ball past him because he’s not paying attention
‘I wonder what coach is buying us for dinner after this. I hope it's good since we’re’ *his goal lights up red* ‘Oops, anyhow it better be good, I’m working my ass off out here,’
‘What if we all started moving in slow motion. Josten and Day would look stupid running up the court like that,’ *a ball flies past his helmet* ‘If we were in slowmo I would’ve stopped that’
He plays the entire game (Renee's out with an injury) and he shuffles through doing all this the entire game
He sings verses of whatever song pops into his head
He reviews the movies he’s watched recently
He commentates the game in his dry manner, listing off every stat he knows about the other team and then explains why they still suck
He makes fun of his Foxes and the other team
He talks about his random hypotheticals
All while keeping the goal almost perfectly defended against the other teams strikers
When the game ends and the Foxes are loaded back up on the bus they listen back to the recording of Andrews mic
And they’re shocked that he doesn’t stop talking once the entire game
They listen to his entire recording on the ride back to campus
All of the Foxes are laughing the entire time
Even Neil is smiling (even though he’s used to this version of Andrew that is weird and likes to ramble)
When they post his mic’d up highlights to their social media it goes viral
It’s their most viewed and liked mic’d up video
Their fans are begging for more of Andrew mic’d up but he refuses to do it again
He got the enjoyment out of doing it once and doesn’t feel a need to do it again
The foxes do start to pay a little more attention to what Andrew’s saying while in goal (and all the time)
Aaron Mic’d up
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tvgals · 1 month
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megumi hates his little sister.
technically, she’s not really his sister. she’s you and gojo’s child, but close enough in spirit to be considered so.
megumi was so used to being number one priority in everyone’s lives. he was always alone, never to be bothered by a babies cries or blabbering.
megumi watched with little interest and a mug on his face as he watched all of you and gojo’s attention be taken away by a small, brown skinned baby. he stomped away in anger, slamming his door shut. why can’t you just pay attention to him?! he flops onto his bed and curls into his lighting mcqueen throw blanket, sniffling.
you sighed and looked up at gojo after hearing megumi’s fit. “baby, we have to go check on him.” you sigh, rubbing your baby’s back. “just let him get through it. he’ll be over it by dinner.” gojo chuckled. you rolled your eyes and stood up to walk to megumi’s bedroom. your heart breaking at the sound of his small sniffles and splutters. “megs?” you call out. he curls into himself tighter, trying to ignore your soft voice he’s grown to find comfort in.
you sigh and walk to him bed, picking him up. “what’s wrong?” you ask, sitting megumi on your lap, bouncing your leg up and down. megumi grasps onto your shirt and wipes his nose on it. right now you couldn’t care less. “i hate amani! she’s so annoying!” megumi cried out, kicking his feet. your face scrunched up in disapproval. “hey. i know she’s technically not your sister, but i know you don’t mean that. she’s still family.” you scold him. megumi shakes his head in response. “no! she took the attention all away from me! all she does i-is cry!” megumi hiccups, fat tears rolling down his face face.
“megumi, we don’t love her or like her or anything more than we do to you. but, she is just a baby, so she needs extra attention sometimes.” you explain to him. megumi starts to calm down, his breathing becoming steady. “o-okay…” he mumbles, hugging you tighter.
safe to say you all had a family outing the next day .
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il-miele-che-scrive · 2 months
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Please have your asks open okay so hear me out
Charles Leclerc x Greek ! F1 driver ! Reader
You can choose the brand anything Ferrari because I want it to be like a little rivalry to lovers . Social media au or not . Reader being in f1 more time than Charles or Charles with rookie reader .
Thank you in advance
Hello!! I decided to go with rookie reader, hoping you'll like it❤️🙏
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scuderiaferrari We are thrilled to announce a historic moment in Formula 1 as we welcome Y/n Y/l/n to our racing family! 🚀 Introducing Y/n Y/l/n, the first woman to compete in F1 since the iconic Lella Lombardi in 1976, and proudly representing Greece! 🇬🇷 Teaming up with our Charles Leclerc, Y/n brings a fresh wave of skill, determination and passion to the track. Together they'll conquer the 2024 season with the iconic Prancing Horse🐎
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yourusername I feel extremely honored to become a part of this family❤️
username1 Miss girl has no idea what she signed up for 💀 wishing her all the best tho
username2 A GIRL, GUYS WE FINALLY GOT A GIRL IN F1
username3 I have a bad feeling about this...
↳username1 wtf? care to explain?
username3 By the summer break she'll have hooked up with half the grid
username1 bye I'm not even participating in this conversation, misogynistic brain rot
carlossainz55 Goodluck @/yourusername 💪
↳yourusername Thank you Carlos 🙏
↳username4 Help why does his comment seem kinda salty
username2 wdym salty lol he literally wished her goodluck
username5 I get him tho, a girl stole his seat
username2 what "stealing" are you talking about? his contract expired, they didn't prolong it and went with some fresh blood that happened to be a woman, not to mention you have to be like the best of the best to get into F1, there was def no stealing done
charles_leclerc Exciting times ahead, let's see if you can keep up
↳yourusername Buckle up 🤠
↳username2 now THAT'S what I'd call a salty comment
username5 Charles forgot they're on the same team lol
achi_of_greece Hellenic Hurricane 🌪
↳yourusername I'll never escape from this nickname will I? 🫶
↳username1 NOT Y/N HAVING LITERAL ROYALTY UNDER A POST ABOUT HER
↳username3 Let's see if the hellenic hurricane can keep up with Lighting McQueen
username4 keep up? 🤡 miss girl will beat his ass up
username5 once again, i kindly remind, they are a TEAM!
lewishamilton History in the making
↳yourusername Omg sir Lewis Hamilton I'm gonna cry 🥹
username1 Y/n being a fangirl just like us
username4 she's so real for this frfr
oscarpiastri Finally🥴it was a bit lonely
↳yourusername Hi f2 bestie 🫶
logansargeant What about me
yourusername you know Oscar and I love you!!
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f1 A historic day at the Imola Circuit as Y/n Y/l/n, the Hellenic Hurricane, wins the Emilia Romagna Grand Prix! Congratulations to Y/n and the entire Ferrari team for this outstanding performance.
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yourusername A dream come true honestly 😭🙏
↳carlossainz55 Great job👏
↳lewishamilton So proud
↳username4 Someone explain why the 7 (8)times WC and Charles' ex teammate are more supportive than Charles himself
username2 I think it might be an ego thing? He could be jealous? Personally I think it's Ferrari's fault, they kinda messed up the friendship between CL and CS too at the end
username5 yeah Y/n is definitely the 'favorite child' to Ferrari because she's new and they want to focus more on her or smth
maxverstappen1 Well deserved
↳yourusername THANK YOU MAX
↳username6 Why is Max here and Charles is not😭
username1 A GIRL. IN FERRARI. WINNING IN ITALY. I WASN'T READY FOR THIS
username2 The haters are pretty quiet rn
username4 No cuz I was gonna ask if she found a therapist yet... But she might not need it
username6 Excuse me it's been a few weeks and we get a Y/n win already?? I love it here
landonorris Max Verstappen is screaming crying throwing up
↳maxverstappen1 I'm literally not
landonorris You must admit it was refreshing not having to listen to the Dutch anthem again
oscarpiastri Best rookie fr
↳yourusername I learn from the best (even though you didn't have a win in your rookie year)
oscarpiastri Wdym i didn't, i won sprint in Qatar. Not to mention rookie of the year
yourusername Yeah yeah, stop flexing pookie
logansargeant Go bestie
↳yourusername Can't fvck with these hoes cuz they messy 💅
username7 live laugh love Y/n
username1 the Verstappen curse has ended🙏
↳username3 you know it's probs her first and last victory in F1 right?
username1 I just wonder why is Charles so quiet
charles_leclerc Congrats 👍
↳username7 not Charles commenting after people started to wonder why he didn't say anything 😭
↳yourusername How did you enjoy looking at the back of my car? Oh wait, you couldn't even see it from P8
username1 maybe it was better when Charles didn't comment 💀
username3 if that was how my teammate talks to me I'd be pissed too
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username1 if this is angrily my name is Ayrton Senna
username2 pls if he was angry, it was only cuz he's in love with her but can't do anything about it
↳username3 he can, they're both single, if he wanted he would've, but he knows they have to keep it professional
username2 that's why I said he can't do anything, literally. i predict a relationship the moment one of them leaves ferrari (or f1 in general)
username4 dude is so in love it's embarrassing
username5 I just know he's thinking about unholy things
↳username7 angry sex lmao imagine
username6 oh to have someone who'll look at me the same way Charles looks at Y/n
username7 okay so my theory is they're attracted to each other okay? but neither of them can talk about emotions, but they tried to have a talk about it, which turned into an argument cuz both are short tempered pookies
↳username3 this is so delusional 🤡 why would they talk about it in that exact moment?
username7 let a girl fantasize
↳username5 quietly manifesting this to be true
↳username2 I'll never believe in true love if this doesn't turn out to be real
username8 No cuz hear me out guys. The LONGING gaze in the second picture? There is chemistry between them whether they admit it or not
↳username6 I totally see it, that is the stare of a man in love with the woman he's just argued with. Look at him. He doesn't look angry. He looks upset. Why? Because they had this argument and didn't make up. Now he's worried they'll get in the cars and something bad will happen either to him or Y/n and... You can imagine how the rest goes
username3 And i thought the previous person was delulu wtf
username9 I can die happily the day I see CharlesY/n happen
↳username7 be careful what you wish for, I feel like it can happen sooner than we'd expect
username10 I need to know HOW didn't Y/n fold after being looked at like this
username11 My friend went to Monaco for the GP and she has a paddock pass, she told me she overheard Y/n talk to some girl from her team that she liked Charles AND they even had "THE talk"™ (which could mean they did "IT"?), but Y/n can't imagine a relationship with him
↳username3 out of all the things that didn't happen, this didn't happen the most
↳username1 I can see that, they're very similar - competitive, short tempered - each of them is like a ticking bomb alone, so in a romantic relationship they would be truly a nuclear weapon (which doesn't mean I don't want it to happen)
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yourusername A great day for some karting 🥴 summer break!
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username1 did I gaslight myself that hard or she's really in the number 16?
↳username5 nah, I see that too
↳username2 girlie giving us hints, is it soft launching yet?
username2 16 I'M SCREAMING
username4 enemies to lovers?
↳username3 when were they enemies?
username4 well they never seemed very fond of each other
username3 then just say rivals 💀
charles_leclerc You forgot to mention I won this time
↳yourusername first and last time you got a higher place than me
username4 I can see them having "the winner gets to be on top" kinda bets
↳landonorris 👀
username1 LANDO KNOWS SOMETHING
username11 i told yall, there's too much tension between Y/n and Charles to not be AT LEAST fuck buddies
oscarpiastri What's the longest you can go without being on track?
↳yourusername Mate as I'm writing this I'm waiting for a plane home, won't sit behind the wheel for like a week or more 😭
↳username2 Y/n is dedicated to her job
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yourusername είσαι η αγάπη μου❤️🤍
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username1 the red and white hearts?? just saying but they're colors of the Monaco flag
↳username2 and the guy lowkey looks like Charles🤔
username3 looks like Charles? The best you can see is the back of his head
username2 and it looks exactly like Charles' 😌
francisca.cgomes Where credits for the last pic?
↳username4 KIKA WHAT ARE U DOING HERE
↳yourusername Pierre said not to tag either of you 😭 safety reasons or something 🙄
username4 AND PIERRE IS THERE?
username3 Okay, she's in a relationship, y'all can stop shipping Charles with her
↳username5 wdym 💀 this is literally Charles
username3 And y'all say that based on the back of his head, delusional
oscarpiastri @/landonorris and I want an invitation next time
↳yourusername Sorry pookie, it's not for kids
landonorris I'm not a kid
yourusername Then don't act like one
username5 lmao Ferrari had no idea they're getting a sassy queen
username6 Y/n is in love 🥹
↳username2 She's winning, she's in love, what else could a girl want?
username7 Not the soft launch as if we didn't know it's literally her teammate
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username1 WHAT.
username2 I TOLD YOU. I TOLD YOU.
username3 You know it's totally normal for friends to hang out? I'd take it as they finally made up
↳username2 UP OR OUT
↳username4 they totally look like just friends, sure😐
username5 IN HER HOMETOWN 😭 HE MET HER FAMILY
↳username7 I'm super curious how it went. "Mom, dad, this is Charles my teammate, I hate his guts. Oh, and we're also lovers"
username6 So where is the person who said they can die happily when CharlesY/n turns out to be real?
↳username2 dead probs lmao
username7 The power couple we needed 😭
username8 imagine their PR team lurking onto gossip pages seeing this
↳username1 I know FOR A FACT that the pr people do look at the gossip accounts
username9 Y'all remember how once someone said Y/n will hook up with half the grid? Staring with the teammate is easy, let's see who'll be next
↳username3 Yeah, I'm so surprised it didn't happen earlier
↳username2 stay mad lol Y/n is living her best life with the man she loves
username5 THIS and it doesn't matter that they met through being on the same team
username6 They knew each other before tho! Y/n used to be friends with Arthur, so she def met Charles in the past
username3 Oh so she tried to get with Arthur but because it didn't work out she went for Charles?
username6 That's literally not what I said. She was friends with Arthur. FRIENDS
username3 You know there's no such thing as friendship between a man and a woman?
username6 look at who is delulu now 🤡 I'm not having this conversation
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charles_leclerc Partners on and off the track
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username1 Man literally said fuck a soft launch 😭
↳username2 as he should! we've been dying for them to announce it
yourusername Je t'aime 🩷
↳charles_leclerc Je t'aime avec tes défauts et tes qualités
yourusername EXCUSE ME
yourusername DO YOU THINK I CANT USE TRANSLATOR?
yourusername WHAT "DÉFAUTS" YOU MEAN? I HAVE NO DÉFAUTS
charles_leclerc That's adorable ❤️
pierregasly Remind me, who took the first photo? 🤔
↳yourusername Kika did 🫶 @/francisca.cgomes
francisca.cgomes First and foremost I am the biggest CharlesY/n fan
pierregasly But you took the pic with my phone, I am the author just as much 🙄
francisca.cgomes No❤️
landonorris OH
landonorris I thought you won't have the balls to hard launch
↳yourusername The balls are there indeed
yourusername And more
landonorris EWWWW TMI
yourusername 😐
landonorris exactly my face rn
oscarpiastri So that's why Lando and I weren't invited
↳yourusername It's a couples trip 🤷‍♀️ there wasn't space for the Aussie and his emotional support extrovert
oscarpiastri fuck Lando, what about the Aussie and his GIRLFRIEND?
oscarpiastri Because I do have a girlfriend, you know?
landonorris HEY that's mean
logansargeant I can't say I didn't see it coming
↳username1 We all did, Logan
↳yourusername You were literally the first person I told about my crush on Charles...
logansargeant But who said I believed it would work out?
oscarpiastri HE was the first to know?
yourusername And you were the first to know about the night Charles spent in my hotel room in Monaco
charles_leclerc You talk to them about these things, chérie?
yourusername Don't act like you didn't run to Lando to tell him all about it on the next day
username4 So the theories were real after all, the spicy night in Y/n's hotel room was the cause of their argument
↳username3 She didn't say that...
username4 But it's obvious. Look - the night happened, they felt weird about it and boom there goes the argument. It makes a lot of sense
username5 However it happened, I'm glad it happened
username6 What happens now? Are they even allowed to be a couple?
↳username7 wdym allowed lol it's better than if they were from different teams, they'd have to sign NDA or something
username6 Isn't the team worried they'll distract each other or something?
username7 At least they'll be traumatized together
scuderiaferrari 🇬🇷❤️🇲🇨
↳username6 The team is indeed not worried
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yourusername The benefits of having birthday during the summer break
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username1 I love the Y/n and Charles/Kika and Pierre friend group
↳username2 they're everything I want fr
username4 okay but I NEED to know whose idea the cake was
↳username2 I would expect it from Logan and Oscar, honestly, but they weren't in Greece with them
↳yourusername ofc it was Kika's idea!!
francisca.cgomes and I'm proud of it
logansargeant It hurts to know you're making new friends 🙄
↳yourusername I figured I needed some girl friend after spending so much time with you and Oscar 🙄
logansargeant Do you even remember about us anymore?
oscarpiastri I bet 10 of your american dollars that she doesn't
yourusername how could I forget? You two still haunt me in my nightmares 🫶
username1 lmao Charles wakes up screaming box box and Y/n wakes up screaming what's a kilometer and shoe thongs 😭
yourusername that's an accurate description
charles_leclerc I swear I once heard you talk in your sleep something about running a mile in shoe thongs
yourusername And I don't even know how long a mile is, so you can only imagine how terrifying that was
lewishamilton Happy birthday to my favorite rookie
↳yourusername Every time you appear in my comment section I cry a little
lewishamilton The good tears I hope?
yourusername happiness tears of course😭
username5 Do y'all think Charles is jealous seeing his gf interact with THE Lewis Hamilton?
↳username2 No? Why? Lewis is Y/n's idol so obviously she's gonna fangirl a lil
username6 Y/n being a WAG and a driver at the same time, iconic
username7 My fav wag duo for real
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harianaswhore · 2 months
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⟡ charles leclerc 2 ⟡
NONE OF THESE ARE WRITTEN BY ME
ᵐʸ ᵒᵗʰᵉʳ ʳᵉᶜˢ
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— ᶠᴸᵁᶠᶠ ⟡
childhood wedding - @russellsppttemplates
baby me - @thepersonnamedsam
my home (^)
a dulcet evening - @f1daydreamers
orange theory - @forzalando
elevator - @silverstonesainz-archive
big dream - @lecsainz
flowers for me. flowers for you. - @uglyducklingofthe2000s
doing it properly (^)
making movies out of memories (^)
prettiest - @starlost97
an unforgettable anniversary - @mariclerc
the sweatshirt (little angsty) - @charles-leclerizz
making a mess - @predestinadora
golden globes - @hemmingsleclerc
theories of relativity - @pucksandpower
sleepy endearment - @adventuringblind
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— ᴬᴺᴳˢᵀ⟡
right timing (sobbed over this) - @moneymasnn
said something stupid, instead of 'i love you' (smut) - @absolutelynotmate-archive
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— ˢᴹᵁᵀ⟡
inked - @pucksandpower
lessons in anatomy (suggestive) (^)
pretty songs and pretty moans - @theemporium
aphrodisiac (^)
erotic small gestures (suggestive) - @inblurtub
like real people do - @monzabee
only for you - @mickyschumacher
match point - @thatsdemko
you're laughing (suggestive) - @scuderiahoney
whip em out - @norrisleclercf1
no mercy - @jamminvroomvroom
wedding night - @non-stop-imagines
needy - @cherry-leclerc
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— ˢᴼᶜᴵᴬᴸ ᴹᴱᴰᴵᴬ ⟡
lover boy - @luvclerc
into you - @leclercsainzz
keep your brother's rival closer - @lorarri
muse to my melodies - @duhyork
actress!reader - @formulaa-1
buisnesswoman!reader (^)
eclairs & leclercs - @hamiltvns
like a feather - @maplesyrupsainz
newey!reader - @pucksandpower
undercover verstappen - @astonmartinii
in a different timezone - @sof1shticated
lucky charm - @landonfour
hitched - @lxclerc
all mine - @writingstoraes
biggest fan (^)
no.1 fan (^)
"slut" ! - @agendabymooner
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— ˢᴱᴿᴵᴱˢ ⟡
our last summer two (smau) - @laelawrites
something just like this two lay all your love on me - @imthebadguyyy
mornings spent well two three - @thepersonnamedsam
life is a highway (lighting mcqueen!charles is everything to me) (smau) - @f1version
go for his brother two three (smau) - @il-miele-che-scrive
a paddock day (smau) - @sofs16
enemys enemys? lovers - @charlesslut16
saw ur mom at the grocery store well, i'm still in love with you (smau) - @love-belle
karma - @leclerc-s
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359 notes · View notes
dejwrld · 11 days
Text
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⤷‧₊˚ ʚ₊˚‧ ✿ ꒱ 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐈 / the story of how the ushijima's rekindled an old flame that kick-started their love story.
┊ •° ੈ ⋆° ┊ warning readers discretion is advised — female reader, her/she pronouns, black reader (with descriptors), influencer!reader, profanity, alcohol usage, intoxication (both reader and ushijima), flashback in italics, mentions of making out, mentions of fingering, tendou makes an appearance, i just around using ushijima & wakatoshi a lot, it's late but we here, mdni
╰┈➤ song for this part: we might even be falling in love (interlude) by victoria monet
masterlist
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Wakatoshi’s fingers lingered on your lower back as the crowd cheered for the excitement of the wedding that was just a couple of days away. His lips grazed upon the shell of your ear at the flash of the photographer’s camera. This felt so unreal, you were about to get married in a couple of days to the love of your life. You felt this feeling of warmth rush over your body with each second of Wakatoshi’s fingertips tracing alongside the lining of your dress. 
“Who would have thought?” His words whisper in your ears with a grin. “Wouldn’t think I would be about to marry the cute girl who I help carry coffee to her internship building.” 
You bite back a smile before you turn to wrap your arms around his neck. Your high heels give you enough height so you won’t have to stand on your tippy toes. The diamond ring on your finger twinkles under the restaurant light before you place a quick peck on his lip.
“Yeah, just some years ago we rekindled in Paris,” You said.
His lips were against your ear once more, “Ah, I remember Paris like it was yesterday. But I could have sworn you told me, what happened in Paris stays-“
His words and your pending embarrassment of remembering the events in Paris made your cheeks heat up. Your eyes trail to your fiancé while he’s getting dragged by his teammates away from you. His chestnut-colored eyes never leave you while a foolish grin spreads on his face before he disappears into the celebratory dinner crowd. Even if he was swallowed up by a sea of people, you still could see him in the crowd with a huge grin as he gloated about being a married man in a couple of days.
Paris. 
What a memory that was.
Your first fashion week as an influencer and blogger had just wrapped up leaving you to explore Paris. You wanted to celebrate the huge opportunities that were graced upon you. Landing a brand deal with a well-known and successful black luxury brand was something huge for you. It felt like a dream if you were going to be honest with yourself. So, you had to celebrate until your last day in Paris. You shopped a lot. Went out clubbing with some other influencers that were here also. Now you stand outside this chocolate shop gazing at the huge chocolate fountain that was in front of the display window that looks like it’s been cleaned countless times during the day.
You went to snap a picture of it for your social media accounts, but a figure inside the store caught your attention. His large frame was hunched over the counter as he was talking to another man with a red buzz-cut hairstyle. Even though the sign on the door was turned to closed, he was inside as if he had special privileges. He wore some light khaki-colored slacks, a black polo that was tucked in and secured with a belt, a beige wool overcoat, and a pair of white Alexander McQueen shoes. His dark olive-brown hair wasn’t messy in the sense that it looked like he just rolled out of bed, but more of him constantly running his fingers through it. He looked familiar. 
When the red-haired guy noticed you staring, you immediately fled. Although, the aesthetically pleasing chocolate fountain would be wonderful for your Paris photo dump for your socials—nothing is more embarrassing than being caught staring at a possible stranger through a window like a creep. You thought you were walking fast enough to put distance between yourself and the shop, but when you felt someone grab a hold of your elbow—the feeling of despair engulfed you so quickly. Until you saw who grabbed you. 
The man who you were staring at. That sense of familiarity wasn’t nothing because you knew him. 
Ushijima Wakatoshi. 
“I knew you looked familiar.” Your voice came out like a whisper as if you didn’t believe he was standing in front of you.
It’s been years since the last time you saw him. You remembered how kind he was when you two first met. Helping you carry baked goods and coffee orders in your internship building. Then two weeks later from that interaction, you saw him again at a farmer’s market in California. Then after that, the next time you saw him was when he was a part of Japan’s volleyball Olympics team. You didn’t want to admit that you thought about him a lot. Who wouldn’t? He was an attractive and genuine guy. The volleyball part was just an extra point. 
“Last time we saw each other, I remember specifically you talked my father’s head off over-”
“Marketing.” You finished his sentence, the distant memory of you practically forcing him to be the third wheel with his day with his father made you cringe. “I’m sorry about that by the way. Thinking back on it, it was extremely intrusive.” 
“Eh, it’s fine. My father still talks about you up to this day, you know? Quote on quote said I should date a girl like you. I can see why he would say that.” His eyes scan over your face to your body and now even though you are covered in a sweater dress—you feel bare. 
The heat that spread from your fingertips to your cheeks made you want to fan yourself. “It’s good to see you again, Ushijima.”
“Wakatoshi..” He corrects. 
Your lips curve into a smile of warmth before speaking again, “Wakatoshi.” 
You liked how that felt, and you can tell that he enjoyed you saying it. The tip of his ears was as red as your purse that was hanging on your shoulder. Soon that deep crimson color imparts across his cheeks. He looks down at his shoes in embarrassment before attempting to speak through the fact that he is blushing in front of you.
“Are you free tonight? Meeting my friend and his co-workers at this bar not too far away from here.” Wakatoshi questions. 
“Yes, I’m just enjoying the last couple of days here before I head back.”
“And when is that?”
“Two days.”
“Great.” was the only thing that left his mouth before he grabbed your hand and walked through the crowd of people towards the bar.
Here you two sat in a bar full of people and that feeling of it only being you two returned. Thighs briefly brushed against each other while you were in a booth together, practically ignoring the environment around each other. Even though the two of you could only send wide grins toward each other, you still felt this strange feeling of comfort wiggle up your spine. Even growing comfortable to lean back further in your seat into Ushijima’s arm that was resting on the back of the booth seat.
“Okay, you have half a million followers. How can I build my following?” Tendou slides his phone across the table to show you his Instagram account.
You glance at his phone briefly. He had a pretty decent following for a chocolatier. From your conversations with him, while you were here with him and Ushijima, he had a bright and energetic personality that you were sure would win people over. You scrolled through his photos of different chocolate he’s made and even some fun photo dumps. His likes on his photos were extremely stable considering the platform’s strange algorithm. Quite obvious it was actual people liking his photos and not bots. 
“You have a decent following and interesting stuff on your page. Have you tried recording a day in your life video?” You asked. “I think it would be cool for people to see the life of a chocolatier.” You shrug your shoulders and slide your phone to him.
“I never thought to do that,” Tendou snatches up his phone to glance through his Instagram again. Soon a young woman caught his attention and he abruptly excused himself, uttering how he had to use his French to good use. 
“So, how’s your social media looking?” You questioned before your eyes looked up at Ushijima. “Do you even have any social media pages? You look like a very reserved guy..” Your words trail off realizing that maybe this was a bit intrusive that came off.
“Not a social media person, but my manager insists I make an Instagram account to connect with fans.” He pulls his phone out, unlocking it swiftly to show you his page.
He had more followers than you and verified. But he had only two photos on his page. One was dated back to a year when he first signed to the Schweiden Alders and the other was with his dad, who you assumed was in California. 
“You only have two pictures. Why? If you mind me asking.” 
“I just don’t see the point of having millions of people to be able to see important details of my life every day. That’s how people begin to construct their own opinions about you even though they merely only see what you post on the internet.” He sips from his beer bottle. 
You hummed at his answer, letting it debrief in your head. You never thought about it that way considering your career choice. Granted, you don’t share a lot about your personal life—but you were a very public person. Over a half million people knew you were in Paris at the moment, but for Ushijima, no one knew he was here unless they were Tendou, his close friends, and maybe some volleyball fans. 
“But your job must be quite interesting though. You have half a million people wanting details on your outfits and such.” He tries to lighten the atmosphere because he can tell that his words are causing you to think deeply.
“I’m grateful for that since they do help a girl eat, but I see why you’re so private. You’re like an all-star volleyball player. I’m sure social media could throw your game off.”
“It does, but it’s nothing I can’t handle. Sports journalists are much harsher, you know.” His fingers traced alongside the rim of his beer bottle.
“How’s your parents?” You asked. “I’m sure your dad is loving the Cali weather,” You add. 
“They’re good. We can officially be in a room together without any back and forth. Think they do it just for me though,” his shoulders shrug and you manage to take note of how broad his shoulders are. 
Maybe you were gawking at his appearance. The last time you saw him, he had height on him. Maybe he grew a bit taller over the years. You definitely can tell whatever workout plan he had made him gain more muscle too. 
“That’s good to hear. I’m sure they’re super proud to see how far you have come.” You cheesed at him and he finished the last bit of his beer before the two of you were interrupted. 
These two young men stood with a huge smile on their faces. Faces as red as the red Sharpie one of them held in their hand. You knew they weren’t there for you, so you only laughed as Ushijima waited for them to spit out what they wanted. 
“We’re huge fans. Can we get some pictures and an autograph?” One asked. 
Ushijima looked at you with an apologetic look that you simply giggled at before letting him talk to his fans. In the meantime, you watch as he talks to the two guys as if he knew them for years. A huge smile on his face and his eyes twinkling like the night stars, seeing him like this felt nice. It brought comfort to you in a sense. During the time of them talking, a waitress placed shots down on the table that the fans brought. In return, you volunteered to take the picture of the trio and watch as Ushijima scribbled his autograph on a spare napkin on the table you two sat at. 
“We’re sorry for interrupting your date. Thanks for the picture and autograph.” One of the guys says before leaving—not giving either you or Ushijima time to correct him that this wasn’t a date. 
You went to make a joke about it, but your phone interrupted that. You quickly down the shot in front of you and make your escape out of the booth. 
“I have to take this call.” You seem to yell over the loud music playing in the bar. You went to stand up to take the phone call outside, but you felt Ushijima tug you back.
“Let me go with you,” You felt his hand grab yours instantly as he slid from outside the booth.
“I’m not going to get lost, you know?” You glance back at him briefly before leading him out of the bar. 
The two walked right by Tendou who was talking with a co-worker and as soon as he saw you two walking towards the door, his bright red eyebrows raised in curiosity. Most likely thinking you two were calling it a night after the extensive round of shots Ushijima fan brought him after he autographed a napkin for him. 
You thought it was strange for someone from one of the brands you work for to call you so late at night. Especially when you had spoken to them earlier—correction, you even did your part of the deal and finally posted the product review they were hounding you for. You listened to the agent talk about how they wanted you to post a review on their newest lipstick line that was being released in two weeks. But as they were throwing out their demands through your tipsy hiccups, they weren’t mentioning anything about increasing your pay.
You were a bit intoxicated and on the phone, with someone from a company you were a brand ambassador for. The night Paris wind brushed against your smooth brown legs under your sweater dress and you thought your body was going to shiver, but the closeness of Ushijima was like a personal heater. His eyes stared down at you with lust and charm while you were listening to the person on the other end. 
They do say some wines can be classified as an aphrodisiac. Perhaps it was the alcohol because you wanted him. You yearned for him just as much as you did years ago when you first met him. The heat that pooled in between your thighs crept up on you when you noticed Ushijima’s eyes scan over your lip gloss-covered lips. 
“Can I kiss you?” 
You couldn’t quite remember if you said yes. But you remembered your timid nods as you leaned to meet him halfway to close the gap between you two. You remembered ending the phone call without a care (and was sure you wouldn’t hear the last of it during your next Zoom meeting). And you remembered how Wakatoshi's lips felt. Soft, smooth, and plushable. He was a stern kisser, it went well with his personality. You could feel his fingertips on the back of your neck locking you in place for him to deepen the kiss. His tongue traced alongside your full lips aching to taste all the alcohol that stained your tongue. His knee breaks apart from your thighs as soon as your lips gasp apart to let him in. Your fingers interlock in his brown hair tugging him closer and your left thigh lifts just a bit for his free hand to grab upon.
Was it cliche to say you’ve never been kissed like this before? The way your lips moved with each other, you would have thought that the two of you had done this before. Perhaps in another life, you two were former lovers. That would explain the chemistry you two bounced off each other within the night and right now under the bright moon that gave you little light in the space you were camped out. 
During the heated makeout session, you could feel his fingerings up the dress you wore and your body instantly heated up. It was Wakatoshi doing this to you, of course, your body would feel like it was running a fever. But the idea of doing this here in an alley as drunken strangers walk by turned you on. Yes, it was scandalous if someone snapped a picture. There goes your brand deals and maybe a decrease in followers, but this was Wakatoshi. You would do anything to feel his expensive fingers rub against your clit. 
After the alleyway interaction, he spent the remaining two days with you. Even though he technically was supposed to leave the next morning—he extended your fairytale of making you feel like the most important woman in the world. Embracing those last forty-eight hours with you as if it were his last specks of air escaping his lungs. 
You remembered his last words before you were boarding your plane. A foolish grin on your glowing face and fingers intertwined with his like a love-sick character from a romance novel. 
“Is it odd to say I want us to work?” He admits. “And we only just rekindled two days ago.” 
“Then I’ll see you at your game next week.” 
“Really?”
“Let’s make this work, Wakatoshi.”
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⤷‧₊˚ cuties that wanted to be tagged | @salaciousdoll @honeybleed @mitsuyasfavorite @saltypuffin1040 @torusbitch @lotustv @superslutny @kokonoiscoconut @queendijaaaa @jamaicanqueenaa @liyawritesss @tojiscumdumpster @threezzyo @markleedreams @tenshithetinysuccubby @ryukenzz @strawhatsav @shyartnerd564 @renestudio @theebussyqueensblog
216 notes · View notes
natailiatulls07 · 6 months
Text
The golden trio Pt 5
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Lando Norris x female!reader
Carlos Sainz x female!reader
Max Verstappen & Female!reader & Charles Leclerc
Summary - Being bestfriends with two famous formula one drivers is never easy, but what will happen when you get involved with yet another formula one driver??
Warning - a cringy pick up line, cheating, slight argument and swearing
A/n - I’ve been ill all weekend so I have just been getting some things done so you are getting loads this weekend
There is also kind of a time skip half way through, but you’ll know when 🤍
How is everyone feeling about todays Grand Prix?? 🥹
The golden trio
-
Text (White: Reader) (Orange: Lando)
Hey, are you lighting cause I make you McQueen 😉
Lando Norris are you trying to use a pick up line on me?? 😳
Of course darling, just trying to shoot my shot
Well in that case if you want to shoot your shot, take me on a date
Tomorrow 6pm I pick you up
Do I get to know where we’re going Mr Norris??
Nope. I’ll see you then 😘
See you tomorrow 6 pm 🤍
yourusername has posted a story
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Gossip Groupchat (White: Reader) (Red: Charles) (Blue: Max)
Hey Bee, me and Charlie have found a new film wanna do a movie night tonight??
Yeah! It looks like a great film, we think you’ll like it 😁
Oh I’m sorry guys, I have a date tonight…
A date?!
With who!??
Um…Lando 🤭
Wait what?? Has finally come to his senses and remembered that night?!
Idk, he sent me a very cringy pick up line to shoot his shot
Yeah and then what??
I then said if he wanted to shoot his shot he should take me on a date so yeah he’s picking me up at 6
Ohhhh so that’s why you were busy all day
Yep, I was getting my nails done and doing some last minute pieces
Well we’ll probably see you just before you leave so I won’t give you the talk just yet 😇
Now I’m considering sneaking out 😅
Don’t you dare young lady!!
lando.jpg
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Shooting my shot for her 😍
Tagged: yourusername
Liked by maxverstappen1 and 63,935 others
username I want dates like this 😩
username Lando taking photos of their date is just to make us jealous 😤
= username Well it worked 🫤
charles_leclerc Don’t forget about her curfew
= lando.jpg Of course, don’t want to get on the big brothers bad sides 😳
= username Overprotective brothers!!!
Texts (White: Reader) (Orange: Lando)
I had a great time last night, thank you 🥰
Of course, I had to win you over and I hope I’ve done that 🤞🏻
You were successful in winning me over
Yayyy!! Wanna do it again some time?
I’d be a fool to turn that down 😅
-
yourusername
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Monthly dump 😚
Liked by carlossainz55 and 63,826 others
username Not Y/n posting Lando’s back like we don’t know who she’s dating like girl we know, it’s okay 😂
username The food is making me HUNGRY!!
username She’s just like us, posting the ‘worst’ photos of her bestfriends lol
landonorris Who’s that in the McLaren hoodie?? 😏
= yourusername Idk but he uses some cringy pick up lines 😃
username Not Max being an iPad kid 🫣
f1gossip
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Spotted: Lando Norris sharing a kiss with another girl whilst Y/n L/n is seen shopping on the other side of Monte Carlo
Liked username and 2,383 others
username Isn’t Lando and Y/n a thing??
= username Yeah…
= username That means he’s cheating on her 🫢
= username Yeah…
username Why?? Lando why??!
username No I can’t, I just can’t today no!!
username He continues to fuck up my ship! FUCK!
Texts (White: Reader) (Orange: Lando)
Baby I’m so sorry!
No you can’t go ‘baby’ me. No not after you go and kiss another girl Lando.
It’s not what it looks like, please let me explain
Go on then explain why you were passionately kissing another girl in your car
Seen 4 mins ago
I can’t, I’m so sorry darling
Please it didn’t mean anything to me honestly
Baby? Y/n??
I love you sweetheart
Twitter
username Lando Norris you are gonna need to hide from Max and Charles once they see what you’ve done mate 😳
username He has fucked up so much!
username I bet she’s devastated, poor girl 🥺
username Every thing is okay, everything is okay, everything is okay… we’re fucked
Text (Blue: Max V) (Orange: Lando)
Look I’ve tried to talk to Y/n but I’ve just fucked it all up I’m sorry
Yeah you can say that again. Mate if you’ve come here trying to get cut of any slack you might want to think again
I know, I just wish I didn’t do it
Yk that girl LOVES you, she has been the happiest she has ever been since she started getting hate but you fucked that up
Yeah
Charlie and I have tried to get her out of her bedroom but nothing so you gotta think of something and fast
I will, I’m sorry
I know you’re sorry, please don’t think that me and Charlie hate you because we don’t
Thank you, she’s lucky to have you guys
We’re just abit annoyed that she has been hurt once again
-
Tag list: @eviethetheatrefreak @janeholt3 @raizelchrysanderoctavius @namelesssav @amalialeclerc @eugene-emt-roe @skepvids @ravisinghs-wife
444 notes · View notes
royalarchivist · 5 months
Text
Pac: Oh yeah, we were kidnapped once. Mike: Yeah, Pac and I, we were kidnapped. Fit: What?! Mike: Together. Pac: Yeah, together. Fit: You were kid- like actually? No joke, you were kidnapped?
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Here's Pac and Mike's entire kidnapping story, since the version Pac told during yesterday's Halloween event was incomplete (and pretty tame).
[ Complete Transcript ↓ ]
Pac: Mike, have you ever been robbed?
Mike: Yeah. Yeah, I think.
Pac: Oh yeah, we were kidnapped once.
Mike: Yeah, Pac and I, we were kidnapped.
Fit: What?!
Mike: Together.
Pac: Yeah, together.
Fit: You were kid- like actually? No joke, you were kidnapped?
Pac: [Pac and Mike cheer] Was so cool Fit, was so cool that day.
Mike: Pac almost got his finger shot.
Pac: Yeah, they almost shot in our van- actually, they shot near our van, right? But they missed it for a few inches.
Mike: So we had these shows called- I'm going to explain the whole history.
Pac: Here we go!
Mike: We have these shows called Tazercraft Party when we go all over the state of Brazil.
Fit: Yeah?
Mike: And once we are heading to this city, and it was like 3am. And we have to arrive there early to make our show, to prepare the scenery, to prepare the stage.
Fit: Oh, I see, yeah yeah.
Mike: And then we were like on this van, really late in the night, and then we heard a gunshot. And then a car just crossed in front of our van, stop at the van, and entered two guys armored with guns and with that- uh...
Pac: Wearing balaclavas, Fit! Wearing balaclavas.
Mike: Yeah yeah. And they said like, "Everyone stay quiet. I'm going to take you-"
Pac: [Interrupts him with rapid-fire Portuguese, imitating what the kidnappers said, and Mike joins in with him]
Fit: Wow.
Mike: And then they took us to like a really far away place on the road was really dark and the moon was shining like the sun. And then they told us to put the hands against our hats and just wait until they took all the baggage and luggage. They even took our shoes!
Pac: Yeah!
Mike: And I had this Smartwatch that I bought like one- two days ago. And it got stolen too. We lost everything! We lost everything. Our cell phones, our luggage. But it was in a really sketchy place. \
Pac: Yeah, in the middle of nowhere!
Mike: Yeah, it was literally in the middle of nowhere.
Pac: [Cheerfully] But yeah, Brazil is pretty cool, you know, you should come!
Fit: [Laughs] Oh god.
Mike: There's this famous streamer- there's this famous streamer that plays LoL that he didn't want to give his baggage, his luggage, to the bandits. And one of the bandits said to Pac, "Hold the locker," that he's going to shoot the locker up open.
Pac: Yeah, but it was like, a small locker you know, and he was just going to fire at my fingers, you know. And I completely lost my mind you know, like, "Hey, hey! You're- you're going to make me lose a finger! Don't do that!" And you know, I could smell the gunpowder from his gun because he just fired it.
Mike: This motherfcker. He didn't want to get the keys off his luggage. I hate him.
Pac: [Laughing] Yeah. At the end, I didn't lost the fingers, and you know- Brazil is the BEST. Fit, please come to Brazil! [Cheers]
Mike: Brazil Fit!
Pac: It's going to be alright, it's gonna be alright! Alright alright.
Fit: That's- that's probably the most casual retelling of a kidnapping story I've ever heard. That's insane.
Pac: We used to call this a "Lightling McQueen" kidnapping it because it was really fast. We were kidnapped for 2 - 3 hours you know. Not a long time. So it was a lighting McQueen kidnapping.
Mike: Yeah...
Fit: Oh, I see. So wait, hold on– I'm still stuck on this kidnapping story. So wait- how long ago did this happen?
Pac: Three years, Mike?
Mike: Three years? Three or four years.
Pac: Three or four years.
Fit: ...Wow, that's crazy.
Mike: Let's show one of our shows to Fit.
Pac: At the end Fit, at least for me, I always try to see the things from the bright side. So at least for me, I learned a lot from this day. I learned that like, you need to avoid robberies and you need to avoid bad guys and also gunshots. And I learned that you always need to... to stay sharp, you know? So that was actually pretty cool. And I have an amazing story to tell everyone! So at the end, it was like a win, at least for me. I would be kidnapped again, you know, if I wasn't- if somebody doesn't shot me, you know.
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sungbeam · 1 year
Text
𝐬𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐠𝐢𝐟𝐭𝐬
model!choi chanhee x fem!assistant!reader
you were just supposed to be his assistant, but at some point, you'd come to mean a lot more to him.
6.4k words (WHOOPS my hand slipped), technically s2l, fluff, angst if u squint, slight pining?, kissing, model stuff and first world problems 😔✨, like one curse word, barely proofread
a/n: istg it wasn't supposed to be like this ;-; it would have been longer but i got impatient </3
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Choi Chanhee once made a girl cry because she had forgotten his phone in the car. In his defense, he hadn't gotten much shuteye the night prior, but Kevin liked to always remind him of that instance.
They said that was the first, true moment the tabloids began painting him in a new light.
'Choi Chanhee, Model-zilla, Hits the Streets of Paris for Fashion Week Once Again'. 'Choi Chanhee's Ex-assistants Come Forward with Shocking Experiences'. 'Satin or Silk: the Truth Behind New's Refusal to Wear Alexander McQueen'.
The last one didn't even make sense; Alexander McQueen only used silk, anyway, and Chanhee had walked in one of his shows a few years ago. Chanhee simply hadn't the time to pen the designer into his schedule since.
The one about assistants? Well, they were all entitled to free speech, but that didn't mean that he would spare them any mercy if they decided to blatantly lie about him. He could always trust Lee Sangyeon, his personal attorney, to take care of business, if and when any of his ex-employees decided that a good payout was comparable to spewing filth.
Then there was you.
Chanhee hadn't needed a new assistant in a little over half a year since you came along. Fresh out of university with a bachelor's in communication and punctuality, you waltzed into his life, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. You'd sat across from him, no-nonsense; he hired you right there. (He had not regretted it since. This was the last time he would let anyone but himself do the interview process.)
The best part about you was not that you always had his schedule memorized before he did, or that you appeared at his apartment before the car picked you both up with his favorite coffee order, or that you actually had decent taste in perfume—not… that he paid attention to what perfume you wore—but it was the fact that you could look him in the eye when he spoke to you, and you to him.
"—and you have a fitting with Chanel at five o'clock this evening right after that meeting with Maison Margiela about the perfume line. We'll have just enough time to—"
Wow, your eyes were pretty in this lighting, he thought. The two of you sat before the massive, floor-to-ceiling window in his penthouse apartment. The entire city laid sprawling at your feet while you sat across from each other at his breakfast table, eating blueberry muffins and drinking lattes.
And for some reason, all he could think about was how nice your hair looked again today, how brilliantly the shine in your eyes was from the sunlight, how impeccable your fashion sense was—even if it wasn't perfect, but that could easily be remedied. Chanhee would have to remind you to remind him to—
"Chanhee. Chanhee, are you listening to me?"
He snapped out with a flutter of his long eyelashes. He reached for his cup of coffee, delicately bringing it to his lips. "Hm? Of course, Maison and then Chanel. Did Changmin cancel our dinner or are we still on?"
A smirk pulled at the corner of his lips when he saw how your expression lightened knowing that he was paying attention. You idly stirred your latte around with a little silver spoon. "He says he's still good to go for tonight. Same place, same time."
A nod. "Good."
He nudged up the Prada sunglasses on his nose as he turned his head slightly to gaze out the open window. It was an awfully beautiful day out today. The sunlight was gentle, the skies were an azure wave of silk, sewn with clouds of white. "Yn, dearest, are we clear until the Maison meeting?"
You blinked. "Yes," you answered, checking your watch for the hour, "it's 10:32 right now."
"Mm, that gives us about five hours to refresh your wardrobe."
Your lips parted, and he smiled in amusement. There was something so adorable about your flustered state. "Excuse me?"
"Call it a little token of my appreciation," he sang, standing up from the table to deposit his empty plate and cup into the kitchen sink. "Could you call the driver to round the front?"
"Oh, uh, sure—"
"Thanks, love. I'll be back in a few," he called to you just as he disappeared into his bedroom to freshen up. You were left at the breakfast table, dumbfounded. You'd only ever gone shopping with Chanhee for him or for someone else. Not you. You were always on the clock when you were with him, and you figured he would probably take everything you bought today out of your paycheck, but…
You couldn't deny the flutter of excitement in your chest like the wings of a butterfly. This could either be the best thing that happened to you… or a complete shitshow.
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There was something odd about walking into one of Chanhee's go-to leisure shopping stores—Dior—with the mindset that you were supposed to be shopping for yourself. Chanhee had asked the driver to pull up to the Dior storefront even as the regular paparazzi camped outside.
Your eyes gazed longingly at the Macy's across the mall.
Chanhee followed your gaze with a little scrunch of his nose. "Absolutely not," he clicked his tongue, dragging you out of the vehicle and to the sidewalk.
The press already dubbed you a "miracle" for being in his employ for longer than a day. But when they got shots of him literally hauling you into the Dior… you could imagine what they would all claim now. This was going to be a whole lot of cleanup, but you had learned after months of working with Chanhee that he was way tougher than he looked. He also didn't mind biting back.
When the two of you were safely stowed away within the guarded interior of Dior, you breathed easier.
Straightening, you greeted the staff members with a shallow bow, who did the same to both you and your boss.
Chanhee wiggled his fingers in silent greeting, then beelined for a white, quilted blazer on a mannequin. A worker scrambled after him to talk about the piece while another stuck by your side to make small conversation.
"How was your morning?" They asked you pleasantly.
"Oh, it was quite nice! How was yours?"
"Pretty quiet," they smiled. They were about to say something else when both of you were interrupted with Chanhee calling your name.
His eyes were pinned to you from over the rim of his sunglasses. Draped over his arm was a tapered coat of some sort, a dress, and… oh, god no. "Yn, come here."
You could already hear your wallet crying. "Chanhee, I literally cannot afford a single thing in here—"
He pressed a palm between your shoulder blades and steered you in the direction of the dressing rooms. "That's besides the point because I can afford them; that's what matters."
Surprise made your footing falter. "Huh?"
"Silly Yn-ie," he teased, "did you think I was gonna bring you all the way out here to not treat you?" Before you could say anything else, he was shoving the items into your arms, and your body into the grandiose space of the Dior dressing room. He winked over his glasses. "Now hurry and put them on. I wanna see!"
He ripped the curtain closed, and you stood there for a moment.
In your hands were the jacket, the dress, and a pair of shoes that probably cost you more than your entire bank account combined. You blew out a puff of air, just as you heard a staff member offer him a glass of champagne on the other side of the curtain.
"No getting out of this, Yn," you muttered to yourself, then began hanging everything up."
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Chanhee was no stranger to the effect he had on people. In fact, he wielded it like a dagger. It was how he had gotten so far in this industry in the first place other than his immaculate good looks, of course. The face of an angel and an attitude of the devil—at least, that was what one article had said about him. He quite liked it, actually.
There was something wholly different about his effect on you as you stood beneath his scrutinizing, heated gaze, as you tried on piece upon piece. He loved being able to unabashedly stare at you, to take in your flustered expression as you did little spins for him in the outfit of choice. For once, you couldn't look him in the eye, and when you had done so once, it had been when his tongue darted out to wet his lips.
It wasn't just the champagne he was tasting.
It was the next morning when you appeared in his home at 7 o'clock sharp, as usual, but with a new accessory hanging off your arm. It was one of the more low-key purses he had bought you yesterday—and to be honest, it was actually one of his personal favorites. It was a Chanel one, of course, and it complimented your pant suit quite nicely.
"Morning," you chirped, handing him his cup of coffee as he stumbled out of his room in a silk robe and with a yawn widening his mouth.
Chanhee smiled at the sight of you, graciously accepting the coffee from you. He leaned against the countertop next to you. "Good morning," he murmured lowly, peering at you over the rim of the cup, taking a languid sip.
He sighed as the caffeine began working its magic. "How are you this morning, dearest? Have a good night?"
You had set your purse down on the island, then moved away from him only to go check his refrigerator to see if he needed anything restocked. Always so attentive. "I had a good night. How was dinner with Changmin?"
"Lovely," he said fondly. "I see you are putting my gifts to use." His fingers danced along the gold chain draped along one end of the quilted leather.
He swore your cheeks flushed, but then again, his eyes had never tricked him for a second. "Ah, yes. Thank you so much for yesterday, by the way." The fridge closed softly, and you grabbed an apple from the basket on the counter to wash and munch on. "I really don't know how I can repay you—"
Chanhee dismissed you immediately, his wrist flicking outward. "Pfft, none of that. I told you it was all a token of my affection," he grinned, propping his chin onto his palm across the island counter from you. "And gratitude," he added. "I don't say this to just anyone, Yn, and I don't buy just anyone all that stuff—but I did it because I appreciate you."
Your chewing slowed and you swallowed. "Oh."
He said it so easily. God, was he lucky to have met you.
Knowing he had successfully rendered you speechless once more, he laughed lightly, deciding to change the subject. "What's today's schedule like?"
You immediately straightened; this was something you knew like the back of your hand. It was much more up your alley.
As you ran him through his activities today, you failed to notice the difference in his posture, the softer smile on his face, and the way his eyes could not leave you for a moment, not even to drink his coffee.
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Grueling was an understatement. Today had been one of the worst days of your working existence under Chanhee's employ. You'd endured rough days and nights before, but today, it seemed to have been hassle after hassle after hassle. You probably got around thirty-thousand steps by how much you ran around trying to find emergency kits and emergency outfits and running to the emergency dry cleaner's.
As much as the fashion world enthralled you, sometimes you wondered how anyone could survive it.
Chanhee was just as maxed out as you were by the end. It was maybe three in the morning by the time the two of you collapsed into the backseat of his driver's car. Streets were barren at this time in the ungodly hours of morning, and your joints ached every time you breathed.
Chanhee was quiet as well as he leaned his head back against the headrest to allow his body some rest. He just barely managed to get through that last shoot—clearly the directors had no clue what they were doing, he thought with a dead look in his eyes. That was how he felt—dead. If it hadn't been for you swooping in with a creative direction…
You were brilliant; that much he was certain of. Without you, that shoot might have dragged on for another couple of hours, or Chanhee would have just walked out. Usually, he had a good sense and eye for things, but with everything that happened today, for once, he didn't have the energy to yell or direct.
He needed to treat you to brunch tomorrow, if he was even able to wake up in time—
His inner thoughts halted when he felt a sudden weight fall upon his left shoulder. He froze up.
Your head had slumped onto his shoulder, eyes closed and no doubt deep asleep. Your bangs had fallen out from the bounds of your ponytail and draped across your face as you slept. He could smell the Miss Dior on you with this proximity.
Chanhee smiled to himself, taking his other hand and brushing the hair from your face and gently caressing your cheek. "Cute," he murmured.
By the time the car rolled to a stop in front of his complex, Chanhee had made a couple of executive decisions.
He lightly roused you from your sleep, cooing into your ear, "Come on, Yn-ie. Let's get you to bed, hm?"
You hummed, lifting your head from his shoulder with a yawn. You rubbed your eye with no care for the makeup smudging. "Chanhee? Why're you still here?"
Normally, the driver would drop Chanhee off first and then you, especially when it came to late nights like this. But… what… was happening?
Chanhee helped you out of the car, thanking the driver while mustering up a kind smile for him. "You're too tired, love. I'm taking you upstairs to my place."
"Wait, I can't—" but you weren't physically protesting; your body ached and ached and ached. But this was your boss, your employer. This wasn't professional.
"Yn, you're exhausted," he countered, buzzing into the building and helping you inside.
You couldn't argue with him anymore. You just wanted your face to hit a pillow and be out for the night. "Okay," you mumbled, letting him press your face into his shoulder on the ride up the elevator.
"Good girl," he sighed. He tilted his head back against the elevator wall, one arm wrapped around your middle and the other cradling the back of your head. Just a little longer, then the both of you could finally get some well-deserved rest.
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You would argue you had seen Choi Chanhee at some of his best and worst moments. He was one of the most beautiful human beings on this planet, and yet, none of the prior moments could even compare to when you stumbled out of his bedroom to the sight of his back to you as he fried eggs and ladled waffle batter into the maker in the kitchen. He had a big T-shirt hanging from his lean frame, as well as a pair of loose pajama pants on, and he crossed his arms over his chest as he waited for everything to cook.
Even at ten in the morning, the light pink waves of his hair looked immaculately styled. You almost forgot he hadn't gotten a perm in awhile.
The panic of waking up in his sheets instead of yours had faded when you recalled your conversation with him just seven hours prior. He had managed to wrestle you into an extra set of sleepwear he just had lying around (Gucci, nonetheless), before he deposited you onto his bed, then promptly curled up outside on the living room couch.
You swallowed. Now what?
It was then that Chanhee turned around with an innocent look on his face. You watched as it melted into something softer at the sight of you. "Good morning, dearest," he beamed, "sleep well?"
Drowsiness lingered at the corners of your eyes, but you somehow managed a nod. "Yeah, how about you?" You asked him quietly. Actually, that had been some of the best sleep you'd ever had. Something about his sheets with high thread count and the smell of Chanhee lingering on everything. But you weren't just about to say that to him.
"Well enough," he replied. He waved you over. "Come sit; breakfast is almost ready."
Your eyes widened a smidge. That was for you? Now you really needed to go home. "Ah, I appreciate it, but I've practically overstayed my welcome—"
He sent you a look. "Yn, come have breakfast with me."
You caved. Because at this point, you'd already screwed yourself over. And breakfast really did smell nice; what was the difference between Chanhee making you breakfast and you bringing him breakfast from the café down the street?
(You didn't even want to go home, as much as your logical brain was trying to urge you towards.)
So the two of you breakfasted, and for a moment, you could forget, for once, that you were just supposed to be his assistant.
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Some things changed after that morning, and Chanhee found himself getting you to stay over more and more often. Even if he had to come up with something stupid like "You haven't watched the 2001 New York Fashion Week rerun?" For some reason, you bought into all his excuses, and even though he knew it was probably because you were always attentive to his needs, a part of him liked to fantasize that you felt it, too.
The pull.
Something had shifted after that morning when he made you breakfast and the two of you ate together at the breakfast table. Sleep had lingered in your eyes, and your hair was a mess, but it was soft and beautiful and… he'd never been so in awe at someone's "I woke up like this" look.
His heart had leapt at the sight of you in those pajamas with that subtle pout to your lips.
God, he thought he might sweep you into his arms and kiss y—
"New. Chanhee. Choi Chanhee—"
He blinked, lifting his eyes from his menu to meet Changmin's. "Hm?"
Changmin wrinkled his nose at him, adjusting the sunglasses seated atop his head to hang from the collar of his dress shirt. (How it managed to hang with two buttons popped open, Chanhee chalked it up to fashion magic.) "You're awfully quiet today. What, tabloids finally shut you up?" He joked.
Chanhee rolled his eyes. "One of these days, I swear, they will render me speechless with their ridiculous delusions," he muttered airily, half-heartedly skimming the menu again.
He and Changmin were seated at their usual booth in their usual restaurant at their usual time. It was their weekly dinner together, something they had kept up since their university days in order to keep themselves grounded. They, of course, touched base with all of their university friends often, but the two of them were two peas in a pod. They even refused to let Sunwoo in on these weekly dinners specifically (something the younger friend was undoubtedly salty about).
Changmin could figure out when Chanhee was occupied with something other than the present. Usually, he was all up and out of his seat dealing out gossip or what torture he and you had been… oh.
Changmin cocked his head to the side, nostrils flaring slightly as he tried and failed to suppress a sly smile. "How's Yn these days?" He asked nonchalantly, lowering his eyes to the menu in front of him even though he always got the same thing every time.
To his credit, Chanhee didn't even react. "She's lovely as always. Why do you ask?"
"I dunno," Changmin drawled, "you haven't gushed about her like you usually do. I feel like you hang out with her more than me."
Chanhee raised a brow at his friend. "She's my assistant; of course I'm going to spend more time with her."
"Yeah, but—"
"And she's a lot more agreeable most of the time."
"Hey!"
Chanhee grinned in impish delight. "You asked."
Changmin sent him a stink eye, huffing as he raised his hand up to summon a waiter. "Yeah, whatever. Okay, but you literally refused to go out with me the other night, and when I texted Yn if you had a schedule, she said that you two were at home!"
That got his attention. Chanhee pursed his lips together, sheepishness peering through his smile. "In my defense, she hadn't seen New York Fashion Week in 2001."
"You hated that year, Chanhee."
"Exactly."
Changmin sighed to himself, and just as he was about to add on, a waiter came by to take their order. Once that was done, Changmin laced his fingers over the table and leveled his friend with a pointed look.
"Just admit that you like her."
Oh, Changmin. If only you could hear the rapid palpitations of his heart when you called him out like that. Chanhee blinked innocently. "I have no idea what you're talking about," he swallowed.
It wasn't even two days later that Chanhee had you staying a little later at his place, once again. There was something jazzy and vibey playing in the background, while Chanhee finished up plating dinner and rolling up the sleeves of his dress shirt. You were over at the small table by the window pouring wine into twin glasses, your hair pulled haphazardly out of your face (for the most part) with a pearl-studded claw clip from Chanhee's personal PR box.
(You blatantly refused, but he then reminded you that he couldn't even use the clip himself.)
Chanhee didn't often think about sharing his life with someone, but it was moments like these—moments when he heard you hum under your breath, moments when the two of you could laugh about the day over dinner, moments when you weren't just his assistant but someone closer—that he could indulge himself. He wasn't a very domestic person; since childhood, he dreamed of places far away from home, seeing sights and experiencing cultures… but if he could come home to you? And experience this every time?
Suddenly dinner was over, and you were collecting dirty dishware and glasses to bring to the sink to wash.
"Yn-ie, hey, I can wash those—"
"No, no! You made dinner; I am washing dishes," you asserted, pushing him away from the sink when he tried to come up to you.
Chanhee broke into a laugh, coming up behind you to set his hands on your shoulders and rub the upper parts of your arms. "Okay, okay. Thanks, love," he said. He didn't even think before he pressed a kiss to your cheek and walked off to go to the bathroom.
Your cheek tingled where his lips had been, and you turned the faucet on to drown out the thrumming of your heartbeat in your ears. What was happening?
You felt like you were floating on air as you hummed to the music and washed the dishes, with the ghost of Chanhee's lips left lingering on your cheek. It served as a reminder of your growing affections for him. This was dangerous, dangerous territory, and yet… it was thrilling. It was new, bold, and delectable. It was Chanhee, for goodness sake.
He was the man you saw crying drunkenly over a cat video on TikTok, the man who lended you Gucci pajamas and his bed for the night. He was on the face of every magazine cover, always excited when you could read his mind about a certain piece of clothing. Everyone in the world wanted to be him or be with him. He was so out of reach, yet right in front of you.
Maybe it was the wine making your head buzz with this wave of unmitigated sentimentality.
You finished up with the dishes, drying off your hands with the towel hanging on the oven door. Chanhee sang your name out from somewhere deep inside his bedroom, and you followed his voice to his location.
He was seated on the rug in the middle of his walk-in closet, the white LEDs washing you with light. It was a far cry from the darkness of his bedroom and the warmth from the kitchen. Chanhee patted the spot next to him on the carpet, where he had a smattering of PR gifts littering the floor around him.
Curious, you lowered yourself next to him. "Are we sorting through PR stuff?" You asked, already making a mental catalog of all the things he'd probably want to keep and the things he'd want to donate.
Chanhee hummed his dissent, rising onto his knees and shuffling over to you. Your eyes widened as he stopped close to you and you held your breath. He raised a pair of twin diamond drop earrings from Tiffany and Co to your earlobes, eyes narrowed in consideration.
"No," he muttered, dumping the earrings into their box, then digging out another.
You scrambled to delicately put the earrings back into their proper holdings. "Chanhee, what are we doing?"
"You—" Chanhee returned with a pair of sapphire earrings this time, performing the same ritual as before, but this time smiling, "—are going to sit still and look pretty for me. I am going through the PR stuff for anything nice."
"Anything nice?" You parroted in disbelief. It wasn't like he just threw a pair of diamond earrings into a box like it wasn't nice, or anything.
"I've never seen you in pearls before," he said offhandedly. From a black velvet bag, he withdrew a string of pearls clasped at the end in gold. His mouth parted in awe, and you suddenly thought of how cute he looked. Chanhee, oftentimes, was attractive and elegant and spellbinding—but this Chanhee was adorable.
He eyeballed it around your neck, then moved to clasp the collar onto you. He brushed the stray strands of hair away from the nape of your neck, gently grazing the pads of his fingers along the warm skin there. The action sent a shudder down your spine, and you were reminded of the cheek kiss from earlier.
"There," he murmured, coming back around to inspect you from the front. "Looks much better on you than it would on me."
You scoffed, reaching up to touch the cool pearls seated on your collarbone. "I disagree wholeheartedly."
He had turned around to go digging again, but the grin he threw over his shoulder at you was a certified heart stopper. "Then we'll just have to go get me a matching one."
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"This is the last time I'm letting a company get me lunch," Chanhee grimaced as both you and he feverishly dabbed at the sauce splattered on his cream silk blouse.
One of the interns working on today's interview and shoot had come to deliver him his lunch when you noticed that the sauce lid on top was a dark red and not the usual light mayo Chanhee always requested beforehand. That, as well as the fact that the lid wasn't fastened all the way. Suffice to say that when you were about to point it out, said intern became flustered at Chanhee's side profile and spilled his lunch onto him.
You made sure to send the intern away before Chanhee could react.
"This was the Burberry one Haknyeonie got me," he whimpered in devastation as he took in the mess of dark brownish-red on his chest.
"Hey, it's okay. The cleaner I usually go to can fix it up," you said, biting your lip and assessing the situation. You gave a sigh, straightening, then swiping at the dampness on your forehead. "For now, you'll have to change into something else."
Chanhee pouted. "I promised I would wear this one for the interview…" He glanced back over at the clothing rack in the far corner of the dressing room at the dozens of options he had, as well as the backups you had brought, when all he wanted was to wear the shirt Haknyeon had given to him.
You wondered how long you had until the interview. You wondered how fast you could run to the dry cleaners and how fast they could fix this, if only to make that pout on Chanhee's face go away.
He pursed his lips. "I'll change into the YSL one," he resolved, standing from his vanity chair to go grab the YSL blouse from its garment bag. "Y'know," he said to you as he disappeared behind the changing divider, "we'll probably see something about this in the tabloids sometime tomorrow, depending on how bored the press people are."
You leaned back against the vanity counter, mentally noting the time. Hair and makeup would be here soon since the interview was set for half past noon. Chanhee would have to wait until afterwards before he could eat lunch. You frowned, "It wasn't your fault, Chanhee."
"I know." You saw him drape the dirtied Burberry blouse over the top of the divider and you walked over to take it down and inspect the damage yourself. "But it doesn't have to be my fault."
Unfortunately, he was right. The press would do anything for a juicy story, even if that meant twisting the facts just a little. You abhorred those stories; you always saw Chanhee's eyes glaze over like a shield at the "model-zilla" headlines, when in fact, it had little to do with Chanhee's "attitude". You wondered if someone would blow up his reaction to this out of proportion—he hadn't said anything to the intern before they ran out of the room in tears, but you supposed if you had spilled coffee on someone with as much name power as Chanhee, then you would also freak out.
"I'm sorry," you said quietly, leaning slightly against the divider. A weight sank into the pit of your gut; you felt pathetic. These were one of the few things you couldn't just fix for him.
You thought you felt him lean back against the divider on the other side. "Nothing to be sorry for, dearest. It's just a shirt."
It wasn't just a shirt. It wasn't just the tabloids.
Chanhee, being the professional he was, carried on through the interview and subsequent photoshoot with elegance and grace. He wasn't in a bad mood, save for the slight melancholy in his smile when the intern's superior came by to apologize profusely and offer to have the blouse dry-cleaned for him. Chanhee politely declined—he only trusted one person with his items.
When you and Chanhee finally made it back to his penthouse suite, the sun had disappeared into the seams of the horizon, hoisting a bejeweled night into the sky. Chanhee collapsed onto the couch face-first while you dropped everything on the floor by the door and made a beeline for the refrigerator.
"I'm making tea," you declared.
Chanhee raised his head slightly. "Me too please."
You got the electric kettle started and brought out two porcelain mugs. While you waited for the water to finish boiling, you fished your phone out of your pocket to check your messages to see if the dry cleaners had alerted you yet as to the status of the blouse. On the way back, you had swung by to get the shirt to the dry cleaners. Hopefully it would be done by tomorrow morning so you could go pick it up.
Chanhee shifted and adjusted his positioning on the couch. He sat upright, leaning his cheek against his fist. "Yn-ie."
"Hm?"
"I'm lonely over here."
You huffed air out of your nostrils in a silent chuckle, but obliged him and went over to the couch. He raised his arms up toward you, making grabby hands and pouting. "You're lonely?" You repeated in amusement, slotting yourself next to him and allowing him to curl into your side.
"Well, not anymore," he said into your shoulder.
The apartment filled with the sound of water bubbling on the stove and the muffled sounds of the city outside the window.
With nothing said, you could imagine for a second that this was not your job, but your life instead.
You felt him move a little, his arms wrapping around your stomach. "Thank you," he murmured, "for everything."
Your chest tightened. "Of course," you replied simply. Because doing all of this for him was as easy as breathing air now. Taking care of him had become as easy as breathing air. It was just that simple.
He was quiet again, fingers fidgeting with the cuffs of your blazer. Something lingered in his mind.
"Yn…" He slowly brought himself to sit up straight, one hand braced on the cushion space between your bodies and the other on the back of the couch. His face was so close—you could see the baby pink hairs falling in his eyes, the bits of glitter on his eyelids, the length of his lashes brushing his cheeks. But there was something wobbling, shimmering in his irises like the ripples in a pool of water. "I think we need to talk."
Your voice was trapped in your throat. He was going to fire you. He was going to tell you that all of it had been a lie. He was going to—stop. Stop freaking out. You knew him. You knew him better than what the people on the outside only claimed to know about him. You gulped. "Okay."
Chanhee brought his hand up toward your face, but instead stopped short, his hand dropping. He wet his lip, head ducking for a second before meeting your eyes again. "You know how much I appreciate everything you do for me, right?"
Oh no.
You nodded shallowly, hands clasped in your lap. "Mhm."
"And you know that I would rather hurt myself before ever hurting you?"
You didn't like where this was going. "Chanhee—"
His eyes shuddered. "Just—just listen for a second. I promise I'll let you speak, just… I just need to get this out."
"I can't really think straight," you croaked. His cologne—god his cologne. You would die suffocating in his cologne, but he was so close and yet so out of reach.
You thought you saw hurt flash across his face. "Oh. Uh, I'm sorry—" He was leaning back now, and you were internally hitting yourself. You'd never heard Choi Chanhee stutter before.
You resisted the urge to say "come back". Come back, where you could pretend that he was yours. Shit, this had gone too far. "Chanhee, I think I have to quit."
Alarm shot his eyes wide open. "What?"
"I can't keep working for you because I have feelings for you," you blurted, staring him straight in the eyes. "I have to quit because the feelings—the want—I have for you are so strong and precariously unprofessional. And I'm sorry, because this was the best job I could've ever gotten, but—"
Chanhee grabbed your face and crushed his mouth to yours, effectively shutting you up. Shock had you freezing, but it wasn't long before you held him close and let him wholly devour you.
When he pulled away, his forehead was pressed against yours, the space between your lips near nonexistent. His hands were still cupping the sides of your face and his breathing was slightly labored; all either of you could feel, hear, smell, taste were each other.
"I love you," he whispered, almost inaudibly you thought you'd imagined it. But then he said it again, "I love you", and everything…
Everything settled.
"How could you?" After all, you were just… you. It seemed impossible that someone as high as he was could love someone like you.
His reply was simple, paired with a sweet return to your lips. "How could I not?"
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You stood outside the massive, sky-piercing high-rise of Vogue headquarters, your heart pounding in your ears and your fingers drumming nervously against the seam of your dress pants. In about twenty minutes, you would be in the topmost office of the building interviewing for a chance to become CEO Anna Wintour's newest personal assistant.
"Well?"
You glanced over to your left where Chanhee stepped beside you, asking the driver to make a loop around the building and meet him back here in a few minutes. His hair, freshly dyed a silken midnight black, had grown slightly to mullet-length; and this morning, he was clad in a pristine white suit set in a classy contrast. A pearl collar sat on his defined collarbones like it was a throne. Beautiful, as always.
There were reporters lurking around here somewhere. That definitely didn't make any of this better for you.
You released a breath. "I've got this, right?"
He passed you a gentle, yet teasing grin. "Hey, you survived me. How much worse can she be?"
That made you crack a smile.
The two of you stood side by side staring up at the building for a moment longer. After you had quit being his assistant to instead be accepted as his partner, you and Chanhee worked to find you a new gig. You received about a hundred dozen job offers from lesser brands and big names when they all heard you were leaving Chanhee's employ on good terms. Anyone who survived Chanhee, and left with a stellar recommendation letter, was a hot commodity.
Chanhee reached for your hand, squeezing your fingers slightly. "Breathe, darling. You'll be in and out and hired before you know it."
He turned you around so you faced him. His tongue stuck out between his lips as he adjusted the pearl necklace around your throat, then the lapels of your jacket. "Wow," he breathed out.
"Huh?" You hummed with a smile in your eyes.
"You still take my breath away."
A nervous laugh fell from your lips, and Chanhee swooped in to taste it—that, your laugh.
"I love you," he murmured against your mouth. Nevermind all the press and paparazzi, or Anna Wintour, or anyone. This was just you and him, even for a little. You could imagine the headlines, but that was the last thing on your mind right now.
Your tongue swiped over his bottom lip to catch the last bits of him. "I love you, too."
There was a cunning glint in his eyes, offset by the soft smile on his face. "Okay, this is it. Call me if you need anything."
You began walking toward the entrance backwards. "What if I need you?"
His smile widened. "I said call me, didn't I? Anytime, anywhere." I'm yours.
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tbz m.list
permanent taglist: @tayunji @im-a-big-mess @honeyhuii @y3jiishot @crazywittysassy @seomisaho @stopeatread @enhacolor @rnjfy @jaehunnyy @kpopjackie @spiderrenjunfics @soobin-chois @mingiholic @ja4hyvn @ethereal-engene @justalildumpling @vatterie @yogurteume @kflixnet
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inertia-succumbed · 7 days
Text
Ghoul Head-canon #3.
Dew has Lighting McQueen Crocs and you cannot change my mind.
Phantom sees him wearing them one time and immediately needs his own pair so Dew buys him some.
On one of the days they’re both so happen to be wearing them, Dew will put them in “sports mode” without saying a word in-front of phantom and he will, rightly so, takes that as the challenge it was meant to be.
They spend the rest of the day racing around the abbey screaming “KACHOW” with the odd “I’m fast as fuck boOii”.
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likedovesinthewindd · 9 months
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Heeeyyy I really love your stories!! <3 can I request hobie being a runway model and reader being fashion designer for him. I been thinking about the fact he said he was briefly a runway model and I can’t get it out my head. I dunno what direction you’d want to take the story in if u wrote it but im pretty sure I’d b great! :) (sorry about the vagueness)
hi babes, thank you soo much you're so sweet:')) also so sorry this took so long!!
hobie brown x reader
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warning: mention of pins/needles
wc: ±1100
a/n: don't really like how this came out might rewrite it later on. not fully proofread.
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You didn't consider yourself any Westwood or McQueen just yet, but even the best had to start somewhere, right? It just so happened that your "somewhere" would be the old community hall in your neighborhood. This would be your very first fashion show, not something you took very lightly. This could make or break your almost nonexistent career, so it was important that everything was absolutely perfect.
Planning this had been an absolute pain; trying to find an affordable venue that wasn't on the verge of complete degradation, finding a way to decorate said venue accordingly, promoting and hunting for possible columnists and other industry players to invite, along with a million other things.
One of the most important aspects were models; the people who ultimately would be representing your brand. The only problem was that you didn't have money to hire any people, much less approach an agency, so you had to get creative. You had held "auditions" in your neighborhood; basically asking your friends and other people if they'd like to model for you.
You were upfront, admitting that you would not be able to pay them properly. People were reluctant at first; the idea of no compensation turning some away, but after a few days you managed to find and recruit a handful of people to help you, most of them being friends and people you knew from scool. Things were looking good, and your project was on the right tracks so far.
You were running around in your apartment-turned-studio, frantically searching for the tracing wheel you had lost once again, when you heard a knock on your door. You opened it to find a tall and lanky young man, hands in the pockets of his jacket. "Heard you're looking for models," was all he said in a low deep voice and you raised your brows. "Y'know I can't pay you right?" you said, and he nodded in reply. "Long as the clothes look good I don't care," he said.
After first glance, you already knew he'd be a showstopper. He just looked perfect for a runway; you could already imagine the way your pieces would fit him. That's how you had met Hobie, how you gained a model, a muse, aswell as a friend.
✴︎.˳⁺⁎˚。⋆
It still shocked you just how much you've managed to pull off in these few months leading up to the big event. The whole thing had been one big family-friend initiative; everyone stepping in to help where they can.
Your old roomate, who worked at a hair salon had asked her colleagues to help with doing every model's hair. She had a friend who worked as a beautician in a salon, who had asked her colleagues to help with everyone's make-up. The choreographer had been your aunt, courtesy of her "certified pageant mom" status. The lighting and sound provided by a friend who worked as a part-time DJ at some dingy club. He had smuggled some equipment to use for the night.
The small closet rooms that served as backstage facilities were packed with people doing make-up, running around in robes and adding all the final touches.
When the time came for everyone to get dressed, you were running around like a headless chicked, hemming a few pieces here and there and filing down slippery shoes, even having to calm one of the girls down due to an anxiety attack.
"How does that feel? Comfortable?" you asked pulling and adjusting at the top of Hobie's outfit, trying not to restrict his airflow. "Good," was all he said. "Are you nervous, superstar?" he asked, as you worked on a piece of stubborn material at the back of his pants. You scoffed quietly at the stupid nickname. "Yes," you answered truthfully, "there's a few important people out there. If they like what they see, they'll be writing articles. Articles mean exposure, and I really need that right now." You laughed nervously.
"But it's gonna be great," you added, moving away from his pants and taking a moment to admire your work, albeit from behind. "because I have my showstopper right here, and he looks incredible," you added with a smile. He turned around, giving you a coy smirk in return. "You outdid yourself love," he said, looking down at his attire, "on your way to becomin' the new Westwood, yeah?"
You scoffed at his comment. "C'mon you have to go line up," you said.
★˚。⋆.˳⁺⁎˚
The show itself was absolutely perfect. You watched backstage with bated breath as each model disappeared through the dark curtains, then like clockwork returned, some to change into new pieces, then fall back in line.
Hobie had both opened and closed for your show, and by the end of the night when everyone stood in applause, he and your mother had urged you to go on stage to give your final bow. You thought it was corny, but you humored them, walking onto the runway until you were visible and giving everyone a wordless thank you, before making your way backstage once again.
You had thanked every single person who worked with you, giving everyone a warm embrace aswell as thanking them profusely for their hard work. When you finally got to thank Hobie, you wrapped your arms around his neck, placing a fat kiss right on the apple of his cheek. "You," you started, pulling him away from your embrace, but keeping his shoulders in your two hands, "stole the fucking show."
He laughed lightly, shrugging dismissively. "You're the one that made this possible," he said, and you flashed him a megawatt smile, the adrenaline from the night pumping through your body.
"Y'know, there were a few casting directors scouting here tonight," you said, "you might be getting a few calls soon, they'd definitely want to sign a catch like you." He only scrunched his face his dismissal. "Nah," he said, and you furrowed your brows. "I'm not committing myself to some agency, wouldn't want to leave you," he added.
He continued to work with you several more months; working closely with you when designing and creating your pieces, than modeling those same pieces. Your popularity grew, and with it the demand for him; numerous agencies looking to potentially sign him. When it all became too much, he decided to stop all together. You respected his decision, and still remained close with him. You still called him showstopper, and he still called you superstar.
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