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#she said what a lot of us have been thinking
kyunzin · 3 days
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𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐝𝐢𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐚𝐲?
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✰ characters ✰ 𝐆. 𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮, 𝐆. 𝐒𝐮𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐮, 𝐅. 𝐓𝐨𝐣𝐢, 𝐒. 𝐑𝐲𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧, 𝐍. 𝐊𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐨, 𝐊. 𝐂𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐨
✰ summary ✰ them overhearing you say you can take all of them at once (f!reader)
✰ tags/warnings ✰ kissing, teasing, biting, nipple play, biting, pussy licking
✰ kyun’s note ✰ this took a lot out of me, part 2 will be posted when I wake up because apparently there is a word count and I’m too tired to do anything about that right now. the tags will correspond to what part they are in so that’s why the tags look different than in the original outline. the taglist will stay the same with each part
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maybe you should have been quieter
maybe you should have make sure nobody was around to hear you
maybe you should have declined their offer and went home to complete your assignments
maybe you’ll regret it in the morning when the pain settles in but that’s a problem for the you of tomorrow
it all started with a whispered comment you shared with your friends, while you watched gojo and geto walk past, you had said that you would let their whole friend group have their way with you unknowing of gojo’s impeccable hearing. you went on a tangent going into detail about all the things you would let them do to you letting the list drag on, shamelessly sharing your desires of all of them. that is until you felt an unfamiliar presence behind you placing their hands on your shoulder causing you to stop your rambling.
not daring to turn around after seeing the long nimble fingers resting on your shoulders as well as the way your friend was looking up at him with wide eyes, there was no doubt in your mind that the sweet scent coming from behind you belonged to gojo. “oh no, don’t stop on my account keep going. I’d love to hear more about what you’d let me do to you” the playful tone in his voice has you thinking that maybe he’ll let you off and move on. its not until he sits down in front of you, one leg over the bench mirroring your position, that you realise he wont leave without getting what he wants.
you try to slide back from him only to collide back into what you can only assume is geto’s firm chest. you have no clue as to when he sat behind you and you barely have to time to process his closeness before he speaks “theres no need to run away from us, we only want to hear what you have to say” his hand snakes around your waist holding you in place his low voice almost hypnotic as his friend flashes his pearly white seemingly innocent smile at you. you’re basically sandwiched in between them and you’re sure that your heart is beating loud enough for them both to hear.
your tongue is dry inside you mouth as you slowly start running out of ways in your head to avoid having to continue your speech. “I’m sure you’ve heard enough already I doubt theres anymore you’d wanna hear from me. I was finished anyway” you hope that’s enough for them but with the way gojo’s smile turn into a devious smirk you can tell they’re not gong to let you off the hook so easily. “oh really, cause if I can recall I remember you saying you’d let me use my fingers to choke you while I fuck you from behind, isn’t that right?”
he doesn’t even blush at his your vulgar statement while holding up his fingers in front of your face curling them into a c-shape as if to act out what he said, his predatory smile back in place. your eyes follow his hands as they drop back in front of him, he gives you a moment before turning his head to the side reminding you of his question but his companion answers for him. “i know what i heard, she also mentioned being spit roasted by both of us, if I’m not mistaken” he’s not and you’re starting to winder just how much they heard you say, you wouldn’t be surprised if they has heard all of it.
without at moments fail they begin to recite you every word, gojo making all sorts of obscene hand gestures while he speaks and you try to hang your head down in shame but gojo’s surprisingly warm hand lifts it up by your chin a small pout on his face “no need to hide princess, we’re only teasing. we’ll stop if you don’t like it” it kind of shocks you that he’s being considerate, considering all the stories you’ve heard of him have been about him being selfish. “not to say that we wouldn’t take you up on your offer is that’s what it is. i’m sure the others wouldnt mind either”
if gojos hand hadn’t already lifted you head you’re sure you would have gained whiplash from the way his friends statement has you turning your head to him with wide eyes. surely he must be joking right? theres no way that all of his friends would agree to live out all your fantasies with them. however the look on his normally impassive dace tell you that he’s serious, he was never known to be a joker anyway leaving all of that to gojo. “he’s serious ya’ know. I’m sure the others would be up for it, however it’s all up to you of course,” he waits before rephrasing his question “so? you up for it?”
you’re unsure as to whether you should accept his proposal or not but from what you’ve heard you’ve sure that you would regret it for the rest of you life if you rejected them now. “I mean if you’re really willing to then I guess I’m okay with it” you shrug and gojo’s toothy smile was back on his face in a flash as well as the hand behind you squeezing your waist gently, you had almost forgot that it was there. “perfect just give me your number and I’ll sort out the details” he hands you his unlocked phone and you type your number in it before handing it back to him. “perfect, I’ll see ya later princess”
he’s up and off just as quick as he came to sit down his companion following in suit both of them walking away side by side unknowing of the mess they just created in you head. it’s not a second later that you remember your friend and turn back to she see her sitting there with the same shocked expression as you except while your mouth was left gaping hers was raised into a crazed grin. having sat there throughout the whole interaction, you’re surprised she didn’t interrupt. the two of you leave your spot fawning over your predicament until you get a message from an unknown number with an address and time sent off with a blue heart emoji blue.
you quickly save his number and part with your friend leaving for your last lesson of the day, anticipation killing you all throughout the lecture. it’s no lie to say you almost run outside the room when the session finishes making your way home to freshen up and get ready. gojo had told you to be at his place by 4:30 earliest so you still had some time before you had to be there, plus you didn’t want to arrive early and seem to desperate even though you were. so you took your time getting ready making sure everything was making sure to pick out something comfortable to wear.
you had spent part of your afternoon in the shower making sure you were smooth as silk, washing yourself off with your favourite scented soap. making sure to rub cream into all parts of your skinthe time went by quick and before you knew it it was 4:28. you didn’t realise how long it took you to get ready but at least you knew that your were prepared enough. you search up the address gojo gave you and make your way there with slow steps giving yourself enough time to think through your life choices. you manage not to talk yourself out of it and soon enough you’re standing in front of their house.
before you chicken out at the latest second you quickly ring the doorbell and seal your fate, it’s not long before you hear steps coming your way making your heart beat faster. the door soon swings open slowly to reveal geto smiling down at you “glad you decided to come, have any trouble finding the house?” he steps aside you let you in closing the door behind you. in all honesty your surprised with the state of the house, you would expect it to be messy considering all the parties they’re said to have but it’s relatively clean bar a couple of cups on the living room table that geto leads you to.
“no it was a quick journey. why wouldn’t I come?” who in their right mind would turn down a chance to fuck the hottest guys on campus. you take a seat on the black leather sofa positioned in front of the wide inch tv and almost flinch when geto sits almost directly next to you. “it didn’t seem like you were to keen back at the table, I thought me might have come on to swing and scared you off” he picks up the remote from somewhere and turns on the tv, flicking through some channels he looks back to you with a reassuring smile. “you can still back out it you want the guys won’t mind”
“no, I’m sure. I’m just a little nervous is all, it’s my first time doing something…” you trail off at the end not sure how to phrase it but geto picks up for you “you mean you’ve never fucked this many people at once?” you can hear the smirk in his voice without looking at him and it’s clear as day that he’s teasing you “yeah, exactly that. but I’m sure you guys will make it worth my while won’t you?” you turn to look at him with an unwavering and seductive stare not planning on letting have all the fun. it’s seem to have caught him off guard with they way his eyes widen a little bit at your boldness.
seeing that your earlier nerves have dissipated he seems a little more eager to get started on your plans, placing your legs over his spread ones massaging his hand over your inner thigh slowly edging his hand further up. you part your legs a little to give him more access and use your arm to bring him into a kiss which he more than happily accepts. your lips melt against when he begins to deepen the kiss licking his way into your mouth. it’s only a second later that you realise the cold sensation you feel is his tongue piercing, which you didnt realise he had, mapping out the inside of your mouth.
he soon becomes impatient and pulls you on top of him without breaking the kiss, leaving you flush against him full body pressing down on his. he sucks in the small moan you let out when you fell his erection through the fabric of your clothes pressing directly into your cunt. even without opening your eyes you can feel him smirk into the kiss knowing that he’s having an affect on you. deciding that you won’t let him be the only one unaffected you roll your hips down into his, threading your hand into his tied up hair gripping onto it tightly and it’s a delight to hear the sharp “fuck” he lets out.
you pull back from the kiss leaving small trail of saliva connecting both of you lips for a second as you let out a small yelp when both his hand come down and slap your ass. the both of you are now breathing heavily trying to regain some air, staring at each other with lust blown eyes when he recovers. using his hands to keep you still he grinds his hips up into yours. “it’s cute that you’re trying to take control but just leave everything to me princess, I’ll make you feel good” you have half a mind to nod your head when he uses both his hands to grip your ass, squeezing sporadically.
just as you’re about to lean down and kiss him again you’re interrupted by an exaggerated gasp behind geto only to find gojo standing by the stairs surely hiding a grin behind his hinds that are clasped over his mouth. “how could you two start without me” you’re about to apologise but geto stops you, “ignore him” pressing kisses into the side of your neck while sliding a cold hand up your shirt sending a shiver down your spine. you’re so distracted by the feeling of geto’s soft lips on your skin that you hardly notice when gojo ends up kneeling next the the two of you on the sofa.
you’re startled by the sudden contrast of geto’s cold hands to gojo’s warm ones turning your head to his direction, looking at you with his now familiar predatory grin, “I could hear your cute little noises from upstairs, is he making you feels good?” your response is cut off by a moan as geto rolls his hips into yours again, “stop talking and make better use of your mouth” he says without his lips leaving your neck and you watch as gojo rolls his eyes playfully but complies with his friends command with a silent whisper of “so bossy” before leaning down and latching his lips onto yours.
unlike geto whose kiss was more rough and impatient, gojo focuses his attention on teasing you endlessly. gently brushing his lips against yours slowly pulling away, revelling in the way you try to chase his lips with a whine only to be pulled back by an annoyed geto. “I thought I told you to be useful?” he spans his attention back to you gesturing at your top lifting it slightly, agreeing you lift your shirt off and throw it behind you. gojo’s quick to unclasp your bra, taking it off to drop on top of your shirt. “yeah yeah whatever” he makes quick work of sucking your nipple into his mouth, biting down hard.
you arch into his touch while geto holds you down by your hips, flicking your other nipples while he watches your face contort into pleasure. it’s like the both of them are competing to see who can get the better reaction out of you, the near constant rolling of geto’s hips into yours versus how gojo relentlessly bites and sucks on your nipple. their more than experienced hands start to roam your body and you’re now starting to believe all the rumours that were said about them. if it feels this good with just the two of them you wonder what it’ll be like with the rest of them.
just as the thought passes you hear someone come through the front door and you try to look but you’re stopped as geto pulls you into another sloppy kiss. “impatient fucks, I thought you said you were gonna wait until we all got here” the voice comes closer but getos lips are still locked with yours and you cant bear to break the kiss. that is until a thick hand hooks around your neck from behind you pulling you away from geto’s lips. he turns you to face him and youre met with toji’s mocking grin. “she looks gone already, fuck what did you two do to her” he inspects you face for a second before letting go.
“nothing she hasn’t thought about before,” gojo smiles as he turns to you “isnt that right princess?” you don’t trust your voice enough to speak so a weak nod is all that you can manage, seeming to have accepted the response toji lets go of you neck and you already miss the heated grip around your neck as you subconsciously try to lean back into the touch which earns you a laugh from the trio. “seems like she’s tired of you two, how about you come upstairs with me?” not that you’re given a chance to answer as he effortlessly picks you up from geto holding you bridal style in your half-naked state.
you can feel his thick muscles flexing under you as he adjusts his hold while he ignores the protests from the other two men trailing behind him. he makes sure to watch where hes going when he walks so it gives you a chance to study his features. this is the closest that you’ve ever been up to him, sure you’ve seen pictures and caught glimpses of him around campus but seeing something in person is different, especially the fact that you cant smell through pictures. god he smells so fucking good. you can even see the thin layer of sweat over he exposed neck, probably having just come back from exercise.
I wanna lick the sweat off him, wonder if he’d let me. due to your gaze being lowered you failed to notice him smiling down at you. “I’d let you do anything you fucking want sweet cheeks, s’long as you let me get a taste of you first” your head snaps up to him, eyes widening in shock not realising you had said that out loud. ‘I really have an issue keeping my mouth shut don’t i- hold on’ “sweet cheeks?”. he chuckles deeply and you can fell the vibration coming off his thick chest. “s’there a problem? anyone with eyes can see a great piece of ass, I’m just the lucky guy that gets to have it”
in the few seconds the interaction had happen toji had managed to open a door, entering a room and practically tossing you onto the edge of a neatly spread bed. looking around you can gather that it’s probably a guest bedroom. the other two enter only shortly “we weren’t doing with her yet” gojo complains. “not my problem, it’s my turn now” in a quick motion he pulls his tank over his head snd gets down on his knees in front of you. “now how about we get rid of these,” without asking he pulls down your joggers and panties in one fluid motion leaving you bare in front of them. “that’s better”
you try to close your legs in modesty but toji stops you by spreading your legs wider than before with both hands “keep ‘em nice and wide for me,” he lets a hand slide down almost reaching your inviting pussy “keep ‘em and I’ll stop yeah?” you not airily hoping he’ll finally start but he doesn’t move clearly waiting for something else “I need words cheeks” you let out a frustrated groan before complying with his request. “I won’t close them just fucking do something already” his eyes look shocked but he grins at your boldness, however both geto and gojo, aquatinted with you sass, just laugh.
“such a needy cunt you have, can’t wait to be stuffed full” he slides both hands under your thighs and pulls you directly in front of him, leaning back and resting on your elbows waiting for what he’s for what he’s going to do next. you let out a whimper, relieved to finally be touched, when he runs two fingers up your pussy collecting your juices on his fingers and sucks them into him mouth ands moans at the taste while maintaining eye contact with you. “tastes better than I imagined, ‘toru come here” you’re suddenly reminded of the other two’s presence at the mention of his name.
its takes a second for you to notice that geto isn't standing were he was before until the bed dips behind you and your raised to lean against is chest, trying to look back at him but his cold hands lower your gaze down to were gojo is not knelt between your legs alongside toji. "keep your eyes on them, don't pay attention to me" his sonorous voice sends chills down your bare neck while you turn your attention back to the, now two, boys below you. gojo starts tailing kisses up your thighs looking up at you through his platinum lashes until toji pulls him back with a firm tug of is hair that as him letting out a grunt
"i didn't say you could touch did i?" watching as the two men stare at each other, you let out a whine at the sudden loss of touch but its quickly replaced by geto's cold fingers tweaking your nipple "be patient you'll get what you want soon enough" you're now left with both legs spread wide over geto's, almost begging for someone to do something, anything at this point. luckily your prayers are answered when geto runs a ands down your abdomen pressing a wet kiss to your neck "you do know its rude to keep your guests waiting right?"
at his reminder both men turn back to you with similar grins on their faces, though toji doesn't release his grip on gojo's hair he quickly whisper something into is ear that you cant hear before turning back to you "my bad, 's just that this little bitch as no patience 'n doesn't know how to listen". geto ignores then and turns your head towards him while the other one pinch and roll your nipple between is fingers, latching his lips onto yours in a wet kiss eliciting a moan from you, which distracts you from the other two. your eyes shoot back open, a hot tongue is presses flat against your pussy.
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𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 - 𝐉𝐔𝐉𝐔𝐓𝐒𝐔 𝐊𝐀𝐈𝐒𝐄𝐍
✰ taglist ✰ @lik0 @yaygurist @dvarlinggg @valleydoli @yeet-ur-feet @silkija @nuggetalli @zillahgocrazy @satoryaa @yaya4thawin @nowhoremones @yeetlixs @happy2delivur @heliumshorns @chocopuchino @luvv4lurd @sorceira @maniaerodesi @chysalxsm @cobraisveryhorny @servalswifey @chrissysblog @futureittomainn @zacatecanaaaa @ichikanu @ameeeeeliie @bluupen @prettybakerswife @blankwashed @klumrine @chadychadyy2k @hantenguclonesimp-minuszoha @dl-yum @jalepp @kibananya @jjksimp3579 @xemmysblog @shawnberry @bleachisfood @barryatsumu @zennyxxy @dyeforkenma @bloomingheartss @sousblogga @alluresenses @zwmbizz @queenkassradite @dawnhero @xthatpottahfanx @loavibeycipoosan
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wren-kitchens · 2 days
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so shiver, but shiver with a friend
1034 words
the boat is creaking. that's not even remotely abnormal; the boat spends more time creaking than it does staying silent—gem built it so it would do that. sure, it took a lil' getting used to, but it didn’t take long for the rhythmic rocking and gentle creaking to become conducive to sleep, and now gem finds it far more difficult to sleep in silence. after all, silence means something is wrong—the engine rumbles if it's working, the waves splash against the sides of the boat if it's still afloat. a creaky boat means gem is still alive, and the boat is still running. but this isn’t your average ambient creaking. like she said, gem knows the noises of her little fishing boat like the back of her hand, and this is not a normal creak. this is a suspicious creak. and- sure, that might sound silly, but have you memorised every sound this boat can make? didn’t think so. 
this fic exists for two reasons, which are stiff stiffyck's love for qpr elven duo (gem and scar) and also me overthinking scar's wheelchair worldbuilding in the hermitcraft world
this could be a lot better but alas I have been consumed by depression writers block, so honestly i'm just proud this ended up as a finished fic
btw this is one of my first times writing wheelchairs, and whilst it is fantasy so things are gonna be a little different, I would appreciate if someone could tell me if I did something wrong/insensitively!
the boat is creaking.
that's not even remotely abnormal; the boat spends more time creaking than it does staying silent—gem built it so it would do that. sure, it took a lil' getting used to, but it didn’t take long for the rhythmic rocking and gentle creaking to become conducive to sleep, and now gem finds it far more difficult to sleep in silence. after all, silence means something is wrong—the engine rumbles if it's working, the waves splash against the sides of the boat if it's still afloat. a creaky boat means gem is still alive, and the boat is still running.
but this isn’t your average ambient creaking. like she said, gem knows the noises of her little fishing boat like the back of her hand, and this is not a normal creak. this is a suspicious creak. and- sure, that might sound silly, but have you memorised every sound this boat can make? didn’t think so.
anyway, all of this to say that gem is pretty sure someone is on her boat at the middle of the night for what she deeply hopes are not nefarious reasons. although, she cannot think of any reason someone would be sneaking onto her boat at two in the morning—nefarious or otherwise. maybe it's grian trying to lag some things out of her chests? but why on earth he wouldn't do that in the day when she wasn't on board, gem has no clue.
there's a new noise now, one that suggests against the idea of nefarious deeds, but only confuses gem more: a kind of squeaking, like a rubber ring being taken off, or an air mattress being slept on. okay, that doesn’t rule anything out at all, and only serves to make everything far more complicated. who is bringing a rubber something onto her boat at 2am? what is happening here?
overtaken by an amounting curiosity to whatever the hell is actually going on, gem climbs out of bed and pads softly along the floorboards in her slippers to her door. she regrets not installing one of those peepholes, because now she actually has to engage with the something that's happening outside in order to investigate. gem is sure there isn’t anything especially dangerous that could be going on, but she pulls out her sword preemptively as she opens the door slowly to find-
to find..
well, she's not sure what she's found.
"gem!" says a cheery scar, who is. on her boat? how is he on her boat- he uses a wheelchair, and the boat is in the middle of the river.
except- no, hang on, his wheelchair seems to be completely lacking wheels, which gem would argue is the main point of a wheelchair. where the wheels should otherwise be, there are floatation devices—seemingly rubber, which explains the noises gem was hearing earlier—in patented hotguy colours, so she assumes that's intentional. okay, that's- that sure is something.
"you-" gem scrambles for any words to express how bizarre this situation is and fails miserably. "you’re on my boat." is all she manages. void, it is way too late (early?) to be trying to figure this out.
"I am on your boat!" scar says, looking rather proud of himself. it's kind of sweet, to be fair—even as it only adds to the crazy situation. "y’know, I didn't think i’d actually manage it. last time I tried, I sunk."
gem blinks, giving up on making sense of the situation now and letting herself just go with the bizarre. "yeah, I can imagine why scar." she gestures at the rubber wheels (they look a bit like wheels, anyway). "how did you get those?"
"cub helped me!" scar smiles, as if this was a normal conversation to be having. does he even realise how strange this situation is, or is this just normal for him now? "see- you know how my chair has an elytra mode?"
"uh huh."
"well, now it has a swimming mode!" scar says, and he clicks a button on the underside of the seat. within an instant, the floatation devices deflate, replaced swiftly by the regular wheels. "ta da!"
"that- I mean, that's very cool." gem says, and she means it, despite how unenthusiastic she knows she must sound. in her defence, it is the middle of the night. "I just- why are you here?"
something changes in scar's expression immediately, and gem panics a little until scar says meekly, "it- okay, well. now it sounds silly."
gem snorts. "because showing off your inflatable wheelchair at two in the morning is normal?" she tilts her head, and her voice is fond when she says, "you know you can tell me anything, right?"
a smile tugs at the corners of scar's lips, and gem feels something warm in her chest to see it. "I know, I know." he hesitates for a second, before giving a huff of exasperation. "I wanted a hug." scar admits, glancing at the floor.
"wh- scar." gem finds herself beginning to smile. "do you really think I would ever turn down a hug from you?"
scars grin is almost shy as he opens his arms, and gem practically falls into them, burying her face in his jacket. man, she has missed hugs from scar; she loves the way they fit together so well, like pieces of a puzzle, perfectly matched to one another. there are very few places where gem feels entirely at home—she's been pretty much everywhere, so she knows what home feels like—and scar is closer to home than any place has ever felt to her.
before she knows it, scar has scooted forward just enough to unbalance her, and she lands on top of him. gem scoffs playfully as scar laughs to himself, holding her closer.
"I can't hug you properly if you’re stood up, y’know." scar mumbles into her hair.
gem rolls her eyes, fond as anything. "well, i’m not complaining." she's quiet for a moment, letting herself appreciate the moment—breathing it all in. "I love you." gem murmurs.
scar squeezes her, and gem can almost hear his smile when he says, "I love you too."
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spicyclover · 2 days
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You used me
Summary : It's bittersweet to think about the damage that you did.
Next part of "You betrayed me"
Hope you’ll enjoy it. Let me know in the comment section.
Thank you! :)
Lots of love, xxx Spicy Clover
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When the door closed that night, I collapsed on the floor of my kitchen, on the cold tiles. In the weeks that followed, I spent them in a blur. I kept myself busy to stop thinking, to stop thinking about you. I lived on automatism. I'm a fucking robot, because of you. I get up in the morning without motivation and go to bed with the ball in my stomach to meet you in my dreams.
I’ve been going over and over our conversation. I’m a bet. A fucking, humiliating bet. I have never been more shame than that evening. Everyone knew and no one told me. They knew that I loved you so bad, and I let you treat me like that. I'm so naïve. I just want myself back. I just wanted to be enough. Don't you think I loved you too much to be used and discarded? Don't you think I loved you too much to think I deserve nothing? But don't tell me you're sorry. You should feel sorry for yourself. An eternal love bullshit you know you'll never mean.
Once the door was closed. My friends left with you. Because you bring them more than I could ever and it hurts like hell. To see these "friends" I know since my early childhood mock me for my naivety. Until this day, it is hard to believe. I know we weren't perfect but I've never felt this way for no one, In a short time you became the reason I get up in the morning and the reason I like to dream. And I just can't imagine how you could be so okay now that I'm gone.
It's bittersweet to think about the damage that you did. You betrayed me.
For the first time since we broke up, I saw you in the street. You had your arm on a new girl. Showing her off like she's a new trophy. A happy and rested look on your face. I wish I dared to come running and punch that smile off your face, but I couldn’t move. You hang out in public with her, but never with me. I went home with tears in my eyes and no morale. It was the first time I managed to leave home after weeks of moping.
The more time passed, the more I felt my head getting out of the water. My body was less numb and I started breathing again, enjoying what I used to love. I adopted a little puppy at this time of my life, the kind we talked about in our long late-night discussion about our future together. You gave me your word. He's the world to me now. Milo, the dog.
The late afternoon often takes me to the beach. I let Milo run on the deserted beach and play with the waves. I take advantage of this moment of calm to observe the sunset. I breathe in and out deeply, letting my last thoughts of you go into the sea. I feel free. After three months of hell, I’m back to normal, like you never existed.
"Hi, bab..." That voice is yours. Why do you come back? Why do you haunt me like that? I turn around and there you are, in all your splendour. Your curls are more beautiful than ever, your face more beautiful than ever. I can't let you win. I walk away from the beach. Milo follows me. I feel your eyes following me soon it's your footsteps I hear. "Please, Y/n, I need to talk to you."
"I think you said enough. You should go back to your new girlfriend. I think she's getting lonely." I said without looking back. The waves fade and I feel your hand grab my arm.
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ellecdc · 4 hours
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i come barring a request for a poly!marauders🫡📃
idk you ever do this with ur cat but when mine meows at me i respond back and pretend we’re having a full conversation, and now imagine reader this with her cat and she’s roommates with lily so she’s used to but then the boys see they’re all thrown off and slightly worried.
now i bid you good day my lady 🫡
I've had this blurb like half finished for a while, but since we were all talking about our fur babies today, I thought it'd be perfect to finish and post! thanks for this cute request - hope it's what you were looking for
poly!marauders x fem!reader who talks to her cat
Remus felt sort of bad for Lily at the way the boys all deflated when it had been her who opened the door to your shared flat instead of you. Thankfully, the red-head just laughed and invited them all in.
“Sorry to disappoint boys.” She jested as they all made themselves at home on your couch.
“Oh, we’re always happy to see you, Lily.” James said at the same time as Sirius grumbled “you should be”, earning him a pinch in the ribs by Remus.
“Hey!” Lily called down the hall. “The boys are here!”
Remus winced at a painful sounding thump and a muffled. “Okay thanks! I’m almost ready!”
The boys were very excited, if James’ knee bouncing and Sirius’ impish smirk wasn’t obvious enough. Lily had been gushing about how sweet her new roommate was and how she thought you’d get along really well with the group of friends, and she’d been right. You came to two pub nights and the boys were hooked; constantly asking Lily for updates and if you’d be at the next one.
Lily had grown so tired of playing messenger that she asked you if she could give them your phone number, to which you had agreed.
The four of you had been in a group chat for nearly a month and a half before they felt brave enough to ask you out on an official date.
“Where are you guys going tonight?” Lily asked as she sat in an armchair in the living area where the boys were waiting.
“We’re going to the pub on 42nd.” James answered readily. 
“The one with the board games and vintage video games?” Lily clarified. 
“Yup. That way there’s something for us to do if conversation lulls, and something for James to do with his hands.” Sirius explained teasingly, causing James to blush and lean into his side as if he were trying to hide inside of Sirius’ smaller frame.
“Don’t tease the lad.” Lily admonished playfully. “He’s already likely nervous enough. I don’t think you lot have to worry about tonight though; conversation never lulls with her around.”
Remus tilted his head in bemusement at Lily’s comment but never got to ask for clarification before he heard some muttering.
“Would you stop that?” He could hear you mutter quietly; barely any ire detected in your tone.
“Please don’t do this, I’m already late.” You begged before a big crash took place. “For fuck’s sa- why.” 
“You’re not allowed to get ready with me anymore.” You declared to your bedroom. Remus shared a look with Sirius and James before turning towards Lily who only shook her head and brought her finger to her lips. 
“Don’t look at me like that!” You carried on. “If you want to be here to see me off, you need to behave yourself.”
It was quiet for a few moments. “No, knocking over my jewelry stand is not behaving.”
They listened to you shuffling around before you let out a big sigh. “I love you too, but you are stressing me out. Do you want to watch shows with Lily tonight while I’m gone? Hm? Let’s go ask.”
Finally, you exited your room and made your way down the hall, entering the living area before pausing to take in the fact that the four occupants of your flat were all staring at you with varying levels of bemusement and amusement. 
And trotting happily behind you was a small cat seemingly none the wiser to the fact that it just made its mistress look like a fool in front of her dates.
You chuckled awkwardly. “How much did you hear?”
Lily snorted and pat her legs as an invitation for your feline friend, who happily agreed, hopping and curling up on the red-head’s lap. 
“Enough to know that knocking over your jewelry stand is not behaving.” Sirius teased salaciously. 
You groaned and moved to cover your face with your hands, but James was having none of that and quickly made for you.
“Don’t hide that beautiful face from us; it’d be a shame if the only one who got to appreciate your date night look was your cat.” He commented as he gently pulled your hands away from your face.
You still looked awfully embarrassed but acquiesced. “A bad cat, at that.” You spat to the ball of fur currently sitting with your roommate without any real malice. 
“Oi!” Lily defended quickly, brushing broad strokes over the cat like the villain from Austin Powers. “Don’t speak ill of Princess Bernadette the Third.”
“Princess Bernadette?” Sirius asked bewilderedly at the same time as James murmured “the Third?”
“Birdie, Lily. My cat’s name is Birdie.” You corrected, not at all amused. 
Lily raised her nose in the air. “When we stay home to watch Bridgerton without you lot, she’s Princess Bernadette the Third. Now off with you, we have Ball’s to attend, and you have gentlemen to court.” 
Remus watched with a loving smile as you flushed furiously at that, laughing when it only deepened as Sirius suddenly stood and made his way for you, bowing with a flourish and pressing a kiss to your knuckles. “Shall we, m’lady?”
You gave him an eye roll but Remus could tell it was mostly for show as you bore a sickeningly sweet smile and accepted James’ elbow as you made your way to the door.
“Have fun you guys!” Lily called towards the door as Remus bent down to scritch Birdie on the chin.
“You too, Princess Bernadette, Princess Lillith.” He offered with his most posh accent and a quick bow before joining his two boyfriends and their date at the door.
186 notes · View notes
yunhoszn · 2 days
Text
to hell with it
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pairing jung wooyoung x f!reader word count 5k genres angst﹒smut﹒teeniest bit of fluff here and there warnings 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, mature language, all lowercase bc she was supposed to be short and vibey and… that just did not happen, mentions and use of weed, very strict parents, lowkey fuckboy wooyoung lol, lots of kissing, marking, scratching, wooyoung has a fascination with reader’s tits lol, nipple play, no real foreplay, unprotected sex, cowgirl and missionary style, dacryphilia, exhibitionism kinda, quite a few references to religious-ish themes, unrequited love in a sense? i got carried away im so sorry
summary you could draw several heaven-hell parallels from this moment in time, from the way wooyoung buries himself inside of you, and you always return to the idea that he’s straight from hell.
more ok… like i said… i got carried away oopsie 😝 this was a request from my lovely wife of 20+ years @juyofans <3 i’m sorry if i strayed too far from the original idea,,, it just happened ok 🙇 also a huge thank u to @bro-atz for betaing for me i LOVE U SO MUCH!! that’s all lets keep this note short and sweet :P reblog if u enjoyed!
@atzhouse
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“shit.”
the curse slips from your mouth so naturally upon the discovery that your stash is completely finished. you rummage through the drawer one more time in case you might’ve missed something, but alas, you’ve run into the worst possible scenario. no more weed.
it’s not like you were dependent on it. but it was the end of a long week and it happened to be one of those days. an edible, a long rip from your bong, or a hit from a blunt wrapped with your pretty pink rolling paper sounded like fucking heaven right about now. 
you still lived at home, though, and your parents had no clue that you dabbled with marijuana, so you had to keep everything hidden in your room. unfortunately, it was just too expensive to get your own place in this day and age. and despite the fear of getting caught deeply instilled in you, you were extremely desperate. 
and well, desperate times called for desperate measures…
“hey, wooyoung…” you speak into the receiver. 
your relationship with the guy was complicated. it had nothing to do with him, and everything to do with you. he’d been your plug for a couple years now, and his pretty face made it really hard not to develop a crush. every time you bought from him, you always tried to get a lot at once so you could space out how often you saw him to make things easier on your heart. 
the two of you went to high school together, and the first time you reached out in regards to your secret habit was awkward. to say the least. all of your friends had purchased something from him at least once or twice, so they assured you that he was the real deal. but you had only ever mooched off of them and didn’t have the faintest idea what you were supposed to say or do. (what with having dictators for parents and the lot.)
you remember sending him a dm in the most cryptic way possible. he laughed it off, thinking about how cute it was that you didn’t know what you were getting yourself into. but, like every other occasion in which you’d spoken to him, he had a girlfriend at the time. the first time it was haeun, then there was jisu, and it was kind of hard to keep up with the names after that. his patience was endearing, though, and it always left you wanting more out of your conversations. (which is, understandably, what attracted you to the guy.)
he was definitely not a one-partner, commitment type of guy, and that’s all you could ever want out of someone. you thought keeping distance to halt any feelings from growing was the smartest decision. if you didn’t get close to him, it would help squash whatever flame burned beneath your chest. 
but now it was time for that little crush to unearth itself, as it does whenever you see him.  
“hey, y/n, what’s up?” you can hear the smile in his voice, the one that has your insides melting and your panties nearly dropping to the floor in an instant. it’s almost cocky, like he was expecting your call. and he probably was, all things considered.
“um…“ you stop yourself, squeezing your eyes shut and biting your lip, tilting your head back. “are you free to do a drop right now?”
the digital clock on your nightstand read 9:28 PM and your parents wouldn’t be home for another hour or so, having left for the movies a little over an hour ago. (that was the only reason why you were even thinking of pulling something as idiotic as this.) 
not even were you just not allowed to have boys over. you weren’t allowed to have people over period, at least not if your parents were out. in spite of being a grown adult, they still managed to enforce strict rules and curfews on you. you were breaking so many by making this fucking phone call. 
Do Not Think About Talking To Boys Under Our Roof. 
“yeah, actually. i have to do another in the area so that works out perfectly. i can be there in ten.” he answers and that stupid smile pops into your head again. 
Absolutely No Strangers Allowed In The House Without Us Present. 
“okay cool— wait, you remember my address?” your brow scrunch together, the confusion boiling up inside of you. he snorts, some shifting audible in the background. 
No Alcohol Unless We Are Present, Absolutely No Drugs Allowed. 
“yeah? why wouldn’t i?” he asks so nonchalantly, you almost miss it. “i’ll be there soon, babe.”
he ends the call before you can even say anything, still holding your phone to your ear. your jaw hangs open and heat begins to bloom behind your cheeks. this was exactly why you were avoiding him as long as possible. jung wooyoung was a natural flirt, and you were very delusional. 
this was fine, right? all you had to do was exchange the goods and money, then send him on his way. it would be like nothing ever happened, like no one was ever here. your parents would be none the wiser and you could finally relax. it would be just like when you were sneaking around in high school, having him drop when you didn’t have a car—
fuck.
you could’ve just met him somewhere instead, huh? you didn’t have the issue of being car-less anymore. you could’ve told your parents you were running out to grab some things from the store and hid it in your bags in case they were home before you. could’ve done literally anything else except act this irrational. 
This Is An Honest and Trustworthy Household — No Lying Will Be Tolerated. 
maybe, subconsciously, you’ve been wanting to see him in this setting again. there was a thrill in breaking your parents rules. you supposed something special, something exciting sparked under your skin all those times you snuck into the backyard to meet with wooyoung through the side gate. but right now, you’re pacing inside your bedroom. this wasn’t the time to get poetic and reminisce about being a schoolgirl with a crush. 
you were bulldozing through just about everything on your parents’ list of Do Nots and you feel like you should be more anxious about it. for some reason you’re less afraid of pissing them off. you’re entirely too concerned with looking good for wooyoung, and you don’t even hear the shrill sound of your phone ringing.
wooyoung’s contact lights up the screen, sending all sorts of panic signals to your brain. you severely underestimated how long ten minutes was, and also how long you’d been standing in front of the mirror gawking at yourself like a damn fish out of water. this was embarrassing. you were better than this, god, you were so much better than to lose yourself like this over a man. but jung wooyoung somehow made all rhyme and reason escape you like he was some sexy version of the pied piper.
before you realize it, your feet have carried you down the stairs and to the front door. on the other side stand wooyoung, his backpack slung over his shoulder. he’s dressed in a red zip up hoodies and some baggy jeans. his hair is longer than when you last saw him, long enough to have some of the strands tucked loosely behind his ears. you think you’re entranced by his visuals alone, and then he opens his mouth.
”told ya i remembered.” his words drip with that charisma that sucks you in further, deeper, into the chasm you kept trying to avoid.
”uh— c-come in,” you usher him into your house and up the stairs into your room, just in case. “my parents aren’t home, but i don’t know if my neighbors are watching or something. and just in case they get back earlier, it’s easier to hide you in here than anywhere else.”
wooyoung nods with a snort, eyes wandering around the bedroom you’ve had since you were two years old. he’s never been inside of your house before, much less inside of your room. it’s very you; various posters littering the walls, makeup and skincare products cluttered around your vanity, comfy-looking sheets.
Definitely No Boys Allowed In Your Room.
“you know, y/n, i was pleasantly surprised when you called,” he shrugs off his bag, setting it on the foot of your bed, dragging his finger along the footboard. “i was starting to miss my favorite customer.”
just about everything but standing right here sounded ideal to you. if there were miraculously a sniper stationed on the roof of the house next to yours, you hoped you were in his line of sight and he would take you out. it was as if he knew. he knew exactly what his effect on you was, and that was absolutely perfect, now wasn’t it?
“your— huh?” you’re sure you sound stupid, especially so when he laughs, unzipping his backpack to take out what he was here for. the smell alone practically recalibrates your system and reboots you. wooyoung notices.
”we’ve never smoked together, have we?” he asks, pulling out the tube he was looking for. it’s about an eighth, which is less than what you usually buy from him, but you’re in no position to complain. you shake your head ‘no’ as he hands it to you, before pulling out another and doing the same thing. you raise an eyebrow at him.
”this is—“
”no, i know,” he purses his lips with a nod, tongue poking out of the corner of his mouth and swiping across the bottom one. “consider it a gift, for being so loyal to me all these years.”
you guffaw in disbelief. what the fuck?
”wooyoung, you can’t possibly—“
”just let me smoke you out this once. that’s all i ask in return,” he seats himself on the edge of your bed. “and we’ll even use my stuff. you can save yours for later. i’ll make it worth your while.”
you would be cutting it really close to the time your parents were supposed to be home. but he was so tempting. and you were so weak. so, so pitifully weak.
”okay…” you let yourself say. you let yourself divulge just this once. “but, remember—“
”yes yes, your parents. do you think this is my first rodeo?” he laughs, pulling out a little plastic baggie that appears to have pre-ground weed in it. almost like… he was anticipating this? when he reaches into his backpack for what you assume is wraps, you jump to grab your pink rolling paper. you’d been so excited to use it, you weren’t going to let this opportunity go to waste.
batting your lashes at him is the only way you know how to convince him, though it doesn’t really take much convincing. your rolling skills still weren’t the best, despite doing this as long as you have, so you watch in awe as wooyoung does it. his fingers move expertly, and you have to blink away the thoughts threatening to overthrow the sane ones that have been struggling to keep afloat.
wooyoung fishes for the lighter in his pocket, red like the color of his jacket. he lights the blunt and holds it carefully between his fingers. you think he’s going to take the first hit, but then he’s holding it to your lips, gesturing for you to do it. “ladies first.” he throws in with that obnoxiously attractive laugh of his. you hesitantly follow his lead, sitting beside him, then inhaling and filling your chest. 
your exhale isn’t as graceful as you hoped it would be, a couple coughs coming out of you, but it was a strong hit. he rubs his free hand up and down your thigh to soothe you, hitting it himself. he’s definitely a lot more experienced than you, in what he does and how he does it, breathing it out into the atmosphere. your room is a little foggy now and you have half the mind to crack open a window, however, you’re hyper aware of his hand on your thigh. and you don’t want it to go away. 
If Any Of These Rules Are Broken, You Risk Being Kicked Out.
it’s calm for a few minutes, just the two of you rotating the blunt in comforting silence, his hand still branding its place on your thigh. and then his thumb starts to move. it circles into your bare skin gently, kneading mindlessly. you almost let out a whine, but you catch yourself, concealing it as a cough instead.
“you like me, don’t you, y/n?” wooyoung asks, puffing out a thick white cloud and pouting. “that’s why you buy a lot from me at once. that’s why i sometimes only see you once a month.”
the question catches you so off guard, you almost grab the pink blunt by the spark. he sets it in your ashtray, conveniently placed on one of your bedposts. you stare at him blankly, because how fucking perceptive do you have to be to figure that out? your crush was probably a little more than obvious, sure, but the avoidant tendency you had couldn’t possibly be linked to that. not unless he truly knew you like the back of his hand. 
he leans back onto his palms with a snicker, carding his fingers through his hair. the way he’s positioned allows you to glimpse at a bit more of his chest from the partially unzipped jacket. the only thing you see is that it’s bare, and your brain short circuits. it was already frying itself when he called you out, now there wasn’t a single functioning cell up there. 
“i’m high like sixty percent of the time, i see everything. i know everything.” he answers your unspoken inquiry. and well, that may be true, but it’s not like you’re doing much to refute with the way you’re ogling at him. (you were a horny high, unfortunately.) 
“what—“ you swallow, suddenly all too aware of how close you’re sitting, of how his grip on your thigh is a little more primal. “what if i said no? what then?”
“i’d think you were a liar,” he smiles, that fucking smile you can picture in your head even through a phone call. “and i don’t like being lied to.”
“so it’s a good thing i haven’t said no yet, right?” you breathe, voice entirely too stable for the situation. his hand rises higher on your thigh, the tip of his index finger brushing under your shorts. you glance down at it, eyes already heavy lidded as they observe the way it drags across your skin. fuck. 
“mhm,” he hums, gauging your reaction to his touch. “it’s very good.”
you’re losing your patience the longer you sit there, tortured by wooyoung’s hand searing on your thigh. your heart seems to beat faster and you feel like you can tell with the rise and fall of your chest picking up in speed. his lips on yours is all that you want, all that you need, and under this spell (the intoxication swimming through your bloodstream), you’re willing to accept the consequences that may come with it. 
a gasp escapes you when his nail scrapes along the side of your leg with the pressure of a feather. it’s overwhelming, to say the least. you want more and more and more, and then so much more until you can’t take it, but part of you is still insecure that he’ll leave you strung out on a clothesline if you indulge. you’re beyond thinking about the repercussions if you’re caught. you’re focused on the repercussions of being hurt if you give in. 
but enough is enough. 
placing your hand over his own, you slip it under your t-shirt where you’ve been braless this entire time. wooyoung’s eyes widen and you grab one of his hoodie strings, yanking him closer to you. your noses brush and your eyes meet, a silent ask for permission to finally play into what you’ve both been waiting for. 
you don’t really give him a second to rethink it.
your lips connect in a rough, messy kiss that has you believing in the existence of a god. one that’s granted what you’ve been dreaming of for years. maybe after this you’ll start praying before bed again, especially if it always rewards you this well. 
his mouth slots against yours like it’s the missing piece of a puzzle, your tongues tangling and your teeth nearly clashing. wooyoung’s hand on your chest regains its own control, squeezing your breast and flicking his thumb over a perked nipple. his other hand grips your waist, pulling you onto his lap. your knees dig into the mattress, hands cupping under his jaw and then entwining in his hair. 
you sigh into his kiss, obsessed with this length on him. you’re sure he feels the same when he groans after you tug on it, deepening the kiss if possible. the sigh turns into a moan when he guides your hips into a circular motion, grinding you down on him to create a bit of friction and get the ball rolling. 
he knows you don’t have a lot of time, maybe an hour tops, but fuck he wishes he could take his time with you. he wished he could explore your body and learn every single thing you liked and didn’t like, and use it all to his advantage. his senses are heightened so he’s keenly aware of your every sound, of each whine that escapes you. 
wooyoung’s mouth travels from your own, along your jaw, and down your throat, nipping and sucking so he leaves his mark on you wherever he can. your lips part with a soft moan when he finds the sensitive spot on your neck. his hand is still in your shirt, kneading and massaging your tits like it was second nature for him. 
your high has reached its peak, and you’re starting to get light headed from how good everything feels. if he didn’t touch you where you needed him most soon, you feared you might finish prematurely, and after all that you’ve been through to get to this point, you really cannot handle that tonight. thankfully, he seems to read your mind. 
“i would love to make up for lost time, but i don’t think we can right now,” he pants into your skin, hands everywhere but somehow nowhere all at once. “let me just—“
“stop yapping and just fuck me, wooyoung, you’re wasting precious time,” you groan, going straight for the zipper of his jacket. you push the red material off of his shoulders in one go, practically pawing at the button of his jeans. he laughs at your impatience, but knows you’re right. 
“well, when you put it like that, i don’t feel bad for the disgusting things i wanna do to you,” he teases, helping you pull your shirt over your head. “gonna fuck you so good, you’re gonna wanna see me more than once a month.”
the call out is crazy, but you don’t have the mental capacity to argue with him, head tossing back when he takes one of your tits into his mouth. you scrape your nails down the expanse of his chest and abdomen, a reprieve to the static buzzing throughout your body with wooyoung’s lips all over you. his teeth sink into your collarbone and you nearly lose your sanity. this was it, there was no going back now that you’ve fallen under his spell. 
his skilled fingers make quick work removing your shorts and you’re so beyond restless, that he has a bit of trouble getting them down your legs. he stills your hips firmly, practically scolding you when he says, “sit still, pretty, i’m not going anywhere.”
it’s a weird reaffirmation, and in a way it calms your erratic mind. you finally let go of those reservations and allow yourself to submit to these feelings you’ve harbored for years. the heat of wooyoung beneath you is enough to make you squirm again, needing him inside of you before you start crying. (though judging by what he’s said so far, you think he’d like that.)
“god, i need you so bad,” you whine, lips locking with his once more. you speak the words into his mouth and they hold all the subtlety of an excavator, desperation hanging off of each syllable. “please…”
you can feel, rather than see, the conniving smile that graces his features, fingers hooking into the waistband of your panties. he’s dangling your desire in front of you like a ball of yarn with a cat, the bed of his nails dragging along your hips slowly and tortuously. you reach down to cup his erection through his boxers and that’s what spurs him on, dropping his mischievous act in favor of gifting you what you’ve been asking for so nicely.
wooyoung pushes your underwear to the side, kicking off his boxers so he’s bare for you. part of you is way more excited than you should be to fuck him raw, for the first time nonetheless. he leans back slightly and watches as you hover over his cock, sitting on it gently. he’s definitely on the longer side, longer than the other guys you’ve been with— not that there were very many to compare him to. he fills you up just right, tapping that sweet crook of your pussy when he sheathes entirely. 
the moan that breaches the sound barrier fights itself from deep in your chest, tickling his ears and forcing out one of his own. his grip on your hips tightens as you begin to move. it’s more of him moving your body for you, not that you’re complaining at all. less work for you.
with each bounce on his cock, your bed squeaks and it wouldn’t be such a problem if you didn’t also hear the front door open downstairs. your eyes widen almost comically, meeting wooyoung’s with a fear so intense that it nearly scares him too. gratefully, he’s been in this situation before. he holds a finger up to his lips to shush you, simultaneously flipping the two of you so your back is flat on the bed and his feet are planted on the floor.
you’re glad you had the clear mind to lock your door when you came up to your room. you don’t know if it’s because it’s wooyoung, or maybe you’re just into it, but you feel yourself getting more turned on as he continues to fuck you despite your parents being home. he covers your mouth with his hand, rocking his hips into yours with a purpose. his free hand slithers between the two of you, thumb rubbing calculated circles into your clit.
”take it,” he rasps into your ear, nipping the lobe softly; a contrast to what’s tumbling out of his mouth. “take it like the good girl you are.”
at that same moment, there’s a knock on your bedroom door. wooyoung doesn’t stop, in fact, he speeds up his pace, pushing your thigh to your chest so he plunges deeper into your cunt. he’s evil, pure evil.
”y/n, are you in there?” your mother asks.
”y-yes,” you gasp, willing your voice to stay steady. “i was getting ready to go to s-sleep.”
“you sound off… are you feeling okay?” she expresses her concern and you look to wooyoung for help.
you bite down harshly on your lower lip when he leans down to suck on one of your tits instead, still very roughly snapping into you. he urges you to say something anyway, so you can at least get them to leave you alone. “y-yes! i’m fine! i was just looking f-for my pajamas!”
he laughs lowly so only you can hear, gazing at you through his lashes and whispering, “should we tell her they’re on your floor?”
your mother doesn’t question you any further. ”okay… goodnight, sweetheart.”
”goodnight!”
her footsteps get quieter as she walks away from your door. the shit-eating grin on wooyoung’s face contributes to the growing ache in the pit of your stomach more than it pisses you off. unfortunately he just had that effect on you. it was hard to be mad at him when he made you feel like you were lit ablaze, fire burning all the way to the tips of your fingers.
“look at you, sweetheart,” you hate that the pet name has you clenching around his length. his lips trail down your body, worshiping it like you were his own personal goddess. “you’re taking my cock so perfectly.”
if you could scream, you would. you’d be as loud as possible so your whole block knew who was fucking you this good. you’d chant his name like a prayer, which was ironic considering he was, in a sense, more like an incubus. you could draw several heaven-hell parallels from this moment in time, from the way wooyoung buries himself inside of you, and you always return to the idea that he’s straight from hell. the way he lures you in, like the serpent with eve in the garden of eden. he has you turning your back on all forms of reason. 
but this inebriation, this sweet poison coursing through your bloodstream as applies practiced pressure to your clit, has your whole being soaring. you could care less about the trouble that comes with it, especially when it has your back arching off of your mattress and into his chest. 
your lips pry open in a silent moan when he presses up against that same spongy nook in your pussy. tears well in your eyes as they roll back, spilling down the sides of your cheeks. wooyoung kisses them away and fucks into you harder, inching closer and closer towards what you’re already on the precipice of. 
having gone nonverbal after nearly getting caught, it requires so much energy for you to croak out, “‘m so close, woo, so so close…”
he hums approvingly, back at your mouth now. his lips mold with yours so smoothly and your fingers tangle in his hair so easily. you want this forever, to be his in more ways than one. but after tonight, you don’t know how likely that is to happen, and you’ll let yourself be satiated by this one time. 
you’re lost in the sensation of his kiss, disappearing in the feeling of his dick sliding in and out of your cunt without restriction. and maybe this would’ve been so different had you not been high. maybe this wouldn’t have happened at all had you been sober. your vision is hazy and your head is clouded, but you’ve never felt so liberated. 
wooyoung grazes his nose against yours, a stark contrast in the behavior he’s exhibited tonight. even as he does so, his lower half is still pounding into you without mercy. and for some reason, that tenderness is what has you slipping through the cracks. your orgasm washes over you with no warning, crashing and colliding into your being almost violently. 
the fluttering of your walls around his cock has wooyoung finishing right behind you, lashes skimming the tops of your cheeks in butterfly kisses that prolong the climax of your release. it’s much more intimate than you expected, your heart swelling and your body shivering with its implications. he slows his pace to something steady, something that just metaphorically holds your hand through your orgasm. 
as you recover from the weight of it all, you realize that you’re still crying. wooyoung attempts to swipe away your tears with his thumbs, but when he notices that they aren’t stopping, his eyebrows knit together in confusion. he slides out of you and back into his boxers, scouring your bedroom floor for your t-shirt. he sits you up gently and cups your jaw in his hand.
“what’s wrong?” he asks, uncharacteristically serious. you’re used to him being playful and joking about everything, so for him to show genuine concern about your emotions means a lot. a lot.
“i’m okay— i’m fine, i’m just being weird.” you dismiss his worries though, since it’s true. he doesn’t owe you anything and you don’t want to guilt him into anything just because your crush is a little heavier than the schoolgirl crush he’s made it out to be. he shakes his head. he’s not having any of that.
”no, you’re upset about something. don’t water yourself down like that.” you don’t like that this is fueling your delusions, don’t like that you want him so much more than you thought you could. and maybe you could’ve stopped yourself, had you not looked at him. your gaze traces from the beauty mark under his eye to the way his hair frames his face. 
“i want something i can’t have,” is what you settle on, swallowing down that bitter pill that you’ve been avoiding tonight. “and i think i’m finally coming to terms with it.”
wooyoung searches your expression for thicker substance, as if that will hint towards a clearer answer than what you’ve given him. he finds it in that painfully sad smile of yours. he finds it in the heartache swirling in the pools of your irises. you know he didn’t mean to lead you on. it’s not his fault, really. you understood what you were getting yourself into. none of the blame can be placed in his hold, because it doesn’t belong to him.
”i should go,” he says after a long stretch of silence. “before either of us get into any trouble.”
you watch as he dresses himself quickly and exits through the window, taking your heart along with him. but it would be okay. you wouldn’t have to see him for another month anyways. 
at least, that’s what you tell yourself as you reignite the blunt sitting in your ashtray.
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laneywrld · 20 hours
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things lost and things found | Lewis Hamilton
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part one
word count: 9.2k
warnings: smut, smut, more smut, fluff.
There's no way for a friends-with-benefits agreement to fail when both parties understand the rules.
"Do you ever get tired?" 
Lewis turns his head to look at her inquisitively.
"What do you mean by that, Clem?" He chuckles.
Clem turns over onto her side, propping her head up in one hand.
"Do you think about having a life of your own without racing but with a family, a wife, and kids? Do you ever want to go home and stay home?"
Lewis stares Clementine in her dark eyes before he turns and looks back up at the blank ceiling.
"I don't know." He whispered into the air. "I don't have much time to think about things like that, serious relationships and such." He winces as he says the words.
"You're not hurting me, Lew, I know what this arrangement is. I was just curious." Clem chuckled, plopping back onto her back. She pulls the covers up to conceal her bare chest.
They lie in silence again, and Lewis is left to think about what she'd just asked him.
He spent a lot of his time in a serious relationship, and immediately after that ended, he was in his single bachelor phase; somehow, as the years went on, it never ended. That's how he's gotten Clementine in his bed.
Of all the girls he chose to spend his time with, Clementine was easily his favorite. She wasn't artificial or an ass-kisser to him; she was simply herself. And Lewis wasn't used to coming across women like that, given his status and all.
Clementine was actually the complete opposite of every other girl in his rotation. She was younger than him, yes, but she was also smart and had dreams she wanted to achieve on her own. He liked to joke that everything about her screamed old lady. Clementine liked that. 
What's cooler than an old lady? 
"I'm going to take that as a compliment. I can't wait to get old; there's beauty in knowing you've lived; I know I'm going to spend my life fulfilling my potential. It'd be cool to be an eccentric old lady, just happy and peaceful. Content with life."
It was entirely by chance that he ran into her at all that night two years ago. He had been taking a late-night walk in the streets of New York when he first saw her. 
Initially, her style caught his attention, but the closer he got to her, the more noticeable was her smile and then her voice. God, she had the voice of an angel. She had that classic American drawl, so sultry and sweet like she was straight out of the fifties but with a twist. 
Then he realizes that he's seen her before, and he stops in his tracks, trying to pinpoint where exactly he'd recognized her gorgeous face from.
"Do I know you?" Lewis questions confidently.
Clem halts, her lips puckering in as she squints at the unfamiliar man. "Sorry, Sir. I don't think so."
She surely doesn't recognize him.
And then it clicks, he snaps. "My photographer, Timothy McGurr!"
"Oh wow," she smiles. "I love Timmy. You said he's your photographer?" 
"Yes, for the last four years."
"Wow, four years." She marvels, "You model?"
"No." He laughs, shaking his head, "I race cars."
"Nascar?" She wonders, tilting her head to the side.
"Formula One." He corrects, and she hums, impressed.
"I've heard serious things about you guys over there. Anyhow, it was nice meeting you," she trails off, allowing him to introduce himself.
"Lewis." He sticks his hand out, "Lewis Hamilton."
As she shakes his hand, her phone lights up with a notification just as a black SUV pulls in. "That's me. It was a pleasure meeting you Mr, Hamilton." She smiles kindly, and then she slips into the vehicle and rides off into the night. 
Lewis stands there for a second. He doesn't know why, but he feels drawn to her for some reason.
The very next morning, he called his photographer for her details. Lewis has always been rather bold, so he isn't nervous when he dials her number. "Hi, Clementine?"
And the rest was history.
Lewis has learned one specific thing about Clem since their rendezvous began. She was an intense person. She liked to talk about any and everything. Lewis didn't mind it, though. It was nice to unpack with someone he knew wouldn't judge him.
She had a way of making anything she asked feel deep. Lewis was both enamored and intimidated by that.
Just as she was intuitive, she was equally as open. Lewis knew he could always bounce the question back to her, and she'd give him the most well-thought-out and theoretical answer. 
He loved listening to her talk just as much as he loved fucking her. 
"Do you ever get tired?" He ricochets.
"All of the time, and it's sad because I'm still so young, but I often wonder if any of this is even worth it. Is slaving away so hard going to be worth it in the future if I've spent my glory days basking in trying to find glory."
"I have faith in you, Clem. You're already lightyears ahead of the rest of us with that mind of yours."
She chuckles, and they bask in the comfortable silence for a while longer, both looking up at the ceiling of his New York penthouse like they're staring out into the galaxy.
"Do you feel like you have enough glory?"
"No," he answers honestly, "I won't be content until I reclaim my eighth." 
From the corner of his eye, he sees her head lull to the side and stare at him. Lewis doesn't get uncomfortable when Clem stares at him like he does when most people do. The idea of her reading into him is flattering more than unsettling.
"If you weren't a driver, what would you want to be?"
"A designer of all sorts, really. Music, fashion, you name it." He lists off, and she lets out an mhhm sound. 
"I can actually see that. You have a very creative mind." She praises.
"What about you? What would Clementine Russell be doing right now if she wasn't an actress?"
She chuckles, "Well, for starters, I wouldn't be naked in your bed. I'd probably be somewhere in the middle of nowhere, like Montana." She gasps, "Yeah, Montana! And I'd have a farm full of animals that I'd never eat, and I'd go out and sit and paint or write more stories that no one would ever see. If I could go back in time, I'd just write my stories, not play in them. I would hike the same mountain every day and watch the sunset. Yeah, I'd sit and watch the sunset every day and admire how beautiful everything becomes. "
For some reason, that statement holds a more significant sentiment than she intended.
"You sure do have a way with words."
"I try." 
Silence falls over that pair again until she breaks it.
"Do you think I'm annoying?"
"No, never." Lewis reveals, "I actually like having you here to talk to; why do you ask?"
"Sometimes I feel like I talk too much and ask too many questions."
"I think you make people feel seen when you ask questions the way you do." He hums. "Do people ask you questions?"
"No, not really." 
"Do you wish people asked you questions, Clem?"
"Yes."
That's when Lewis realizes that all that glimmers isn't gold. Clementine Walker had the life of a star. She could do anything she wanted at any given time. Yet she wasn't content with her life. She was actually rather lonely. 
"I write scripts for myself to act out when I want to talk about something." She chuckles dryly. "That's pathetic."
And suddenly, Lewis feels terrible for not asking the woman more questions. He feels like a shit person for receiving her and giving her nothing in return. Clementine was better than therapy for him; who gave therapy to her?
"What if we lay in bed after every meetup and we just talk? I consider you to be a friend Clem. I like listening to you. I like hearing about you, too."
"Okay."
"We can start now?"
"You first." She has a giddy smile on her face as she turns over to face him.
"Why do you think you feel everything so deeply?"
She hums, her eyes casting downward as she allows the question to ruminate. 
"I expect everything to be meaningful. I have a hard time seeing anything objectively. Everything has to mean something to me, and if it doesn't, what's the point? If it has no purpose, how am I supposed to accept it? I feel so deeply because every word, action, and situation has to mean something; there has to be a reason behind it. I've never had someone tell me that things weren't that deep; I wasn't taught to brush things off; I was taught to feel and to try to understand everything and everyone."
"I think that's beautiful. You're such a gracious being, you know that?"
She whispers a quiet thanks as she thinks over what to ask him.
"What's one thing you lost as a kid that you wish you could get back?"
"I had a remote-controlled big Homer car when I was a kid, and I used to drive it in the park every day. I got distracted one day and left without it; when I came back the next day, it was gone."
"Who gave it to you?" Clem inquires, and when Lewis turns onto his side to face her, she looks so intrigued by what he has to say. He doesn't think anyone has ever cared so much for what he has to say if it wasn't involving his career.
"My dad, for my sixth birthday. We were poor, so it meant a lot to me; I really cherished it. Felt like I took it for granted, I loved that car so much, but I left it. How could I forget something that important to me?"
Naturally, Lewis opens up to Clementine.
"You can love something and still lose it, which illustrates how much you adore it in the end. You never really know how much you appreciate something until you no longer have it." Clem enlightens.
Lewis wonders how her brain can process such complex thoughts in mere seconds.
"What have you lost?"
"A letter from my dad." Clem hums. "When he was in prison before things got bad with my mom and he stopped reaching out, I was turning eight, and he sent this beautiful card. It was Clementine orange, and when you opened it, a three-dimensional cake popped out with like a million yellow candles. I remember it saying these candles don't compare to the light you brought to the world on this day many years ago." Clem chuckles as she describes the elaborate birthday card. She picks at Lewis' sheets as she speaks.
He sees her lips pressed together, and she turns to face the ceiling again. She doesn't seem like she intends to keep talking.
"I'm listening, y'know. I'd love to hear more." Under the covers, his hand travels down until it catches hold of Clems. 
"I-um, He wrote his message in like really elegant cursive, and I was a kid at the time, so I had my grandpa read it to me over and over, like every day, until I had fully memorized it. I had never seen my dad in person. I had never heard his voice, not even over the phone. I had never even gotten a letter from him before. Still, the things he wrote in that letter were beautiful. I remember feeling a little less lonely as if he loved me unconditionally. There were dried tears embedded in the paper material. I knew he cried as he wrote it, and that made me feel like, damn, this is a man who means what he says, feels exactly what he writes. I don't know when I lost that letter or how I just knew when I went for it again. It was nowhere to be found. I'm forgetting the words he wrote to me."
"Have you heard from him since?"
"Once but not directly. When I turned fifteen, he was released. He felt like he wouldn't know how to be a father when he got out. Which I understood. I can't force anyone to have a relationship with me. It must’ve been hard going in when your child is an infant and coming out to her fully bloomed. He cried on the phone to my grandpa every time he argued with my mom. She'd say nasty things to him, like how he'd never be a father to me and how I was better off. I figured when you're locked in a cell, and all you can think about is going home to your child, it must’ve been hard to hear that you would never account for anything. I believe he gave up. Not everyone is strong enough to take on that kind of mental battle."
Even as Clementine describes how fucking sucky her childhood was, she is still showing grace to the people who ruined her innocence.
"He never asked to speak to me during these calls. My mother always kept him at a distance when he was in prison. If he had written more letters than the one he sent to my grandpa, like he wrote that he did, I never got them. She was good at telling him that she didn't want him in my life. I don't blame her either; neither of them was ready to be parents. I got a call on my eighteenth birthday. It was just breathing on the other side for a while. I had a feeling it was him, so I didn't hang up, but it was a gravely voice on the other end and he sounded a little choked up. Said the exact same line from my birthday card, I'm not sure if you like cake, but eat a lot of it today princess. Happy birthday. And then the call disconnected. Kind of fucked me up a little bit because I think I was just getting to a point where I was finally okay with not having parents."
"I'm sorry." Lewis solaces. 
"It's cool, builds character." She jokes dropping her elbow and lying completely on her side.
"I pride you on your gracefulness, truly."
"My grandpa always told me that if you can find grace in failings, life becomes more beautiful. If you can find grace in every situation, eventually, those graces will catch up to you. Everyone deserves to have grace; who am I to hold something above someone else because of how it made me feel? You never know what made someone act the way they did. In the end, it may have affected them more than me, but as long as I'm gracious and I consider these kind of things to be a possibility it makes it easier for me."
Lewis thinks back to all the times he handled situations without grace, when he allowed himself to blow up over small things, and how, in the end, it made situations worse than they needed to be. He internally hums at the realization.
"Shit." 
She is shuffling from his bed, sheets clutched tightly against his chest. 
She gracefully moves around his room, the sheets fitting her like a gown. Lewis props himself up on one arm, watching her gather her belongings. 
When she tosses the sheet back onto the bed, he watches as she pulls on her pants and steals his button-up to throw over her thin tank top.
She sits on the edge of his bed, throwing on her worn Adidas sambas. 
"It's been a blast, Sir Hamilton." She bows, and he softly launches a pillow at her. She catches it with a sweet grin and places it at his feet. "I have to be on set early tomorrow. My assistant sent a car for me."
"I'll call you when I'm back in town," he suggests, and she nods, letting out a noise of agreement as she saunters over to his bedroom door. 
"Be safe out there on the track." She blows him a kiss, and then she is gone, and he hears his front door close gently. 
Lewis likes spending time with Clem. She has a way of taking every ounce of stress from his bones.
Lewis wasn't a relationship kind of guy, and he liked that Clem understood that. She wasn't trying to force a relationship on him or was convinced she could change his mind. 
Clem was there for the great sex and the even better conversations. The two of them had made great friends out of each other, and they were both content with the status of their association.
Lewis never told Clementine this, but he liked watching her work. He liked how she could put out art, and he could resonate with it. Lewis thinks that Clem is the most emotionally intelligent person he's ever met, which is why everything she puts her hands on just works.
And it shows. Clementine is the kind of person whose words sound like they're straight from classic literature. She has a way of speaking that instantly captivates every person in her proximity.
Clementine was a Jill of trades. She liked to act, but she was an even better writer. This is why she was awarded co-director of her award-winning show after helping to direct only three episodes. He knew she had a knack for all things creative. She liked to draw, paint, and read, and she had a thing for tattoos just as much as he did.
Clementine was actually so fucking cool.
People loved her naturally; she only had to be herself, and it made people gravitate towards her. 
Being around Clem was like having the hands of an angel on you. It was impossible to feel troubled, even if you were going through the most unfortunate or stressful circumstances. If you had Clem, trust you'd feel nirvana.
Her words echo in his mind. I write scripts for myself to act out when I want to talk about something.
He switches on his television and clicks on the Netflix app. It's the first option under his 'continue watching' category, and he presses resume. 
Lewis loved her show, though he never admitted it. It was artsy and different than what was new and hot now. Clem channeled all of her favorites to make this show. He remembers her describing her obsession with Jim Carrey and The Truman Show. Her favorite movie of all time was Eternal Sunshine of The Spotless Mind, and her favorite character also shared her name. 
He knew that Clementine cried when she read Tuesdays with Morrie, just like she did when she watched Requiem for a Dream. She had an odd obsession with The Joker movie and was even more obsessed with the lore of how each Joker is portrayed differently. She always saw herself in Charlie, from the perks of being a wallflower.
She rewatched What's Eating Gilbert Grape at least once a week. If you asked her, Tim Burton was the best director in the world, and she had a special connection to Edward Scissorhands. She also loved anything with a narrator.
She was right. It makes you feel each character a little bit more to hear their every thought.
He now knows that she likes to narrate her own show because she likes to talk about what she feels. No one asks her how she feels.
Everything that Clem likes is so deep and complex, and it fits her perfectly. 
He must admit that he had never heard of any of these shows, movies, or books before meeting Clementine. But seeing how passionately she described them had him desperate to enlighten himself. He sees the inspiration of it all in her show. 
Every episode starts with a question. Clem appears facing away from the camera, an oversized Carhartt denim jacket adorning her frame. He sees that she is sitting on a mountain, a camera held to her face, taking pictures of the most scenic view he's ever seen.
Her voice emerges through the speaker, yet her mouth is unmoving.
"You can go anywhere in the world under one condition. You'd have to stay there forever, everything unchanged and nothing new will ever come. Where do you choose?"
The camera is still panned out but moves to the side, where he views her relaxed frame from the side. As the camera zooms in she breaks the fourth wall, turning to face the camera. The sky is oddly vividly blue in the background and the clouds are all weirdly perfect. 
"Probably here."
As the sun sets, the sky adorned in perfect warm hues, she sets the camera beside her and folds her hands in her lap. She turns to face the beautiful view, and she looks more content with life than she's ever seen.
Her voice rings through the speaker again as the camera pans out, and her body begins to look smaller and smaller against the vast sky.
"You can still see the sunset even on the darkest of days.”
-
The next time Lewis sees Clem is at her the Cannes movie festival.
She is obviously the lady of the hour, and he's had a hard time catching up with her. 
When he finally does see her, his breath hitches as she maneuvers through the crowd and away from the red carpet in a very elaborate gown. She looks like a princess.
Like she can feel his eyes on her, her head turns and she sees Lewis standing amongst a group of other celebrities. 
There are three people surrounding her. Zeus, her bodyguard, SK her assistant and finally her publicist Nia.
She approaches him, ready to greet him with a wide grin; Lewis has a grin of his own covering his face as he steps ahead of the group.
"Lewis, Hi!" She pitches, raising her arms to hug him; he happily accepts her embrace, wrapping his own around her frame. 
"Can't wait to see you on the big screen." He boosts, and she smiles up at him, ready to reply, when a hand clamps down over her wrist and begins pulling her away, "Sorry, got to keep going, Clem."
She offers him a rushed smile, lifting her dress so that she can exit with speed. Lewis has never once felt like the fan in a situation until it came to Clem.
"So the movie is going to be about cannibalism?" His friend asks, looking through the pamphlet.
"No," Lewis combats. "I mean, yes, but it's deeper than that, the flesh represents..." and he drones on describing the lore of her new movie, Bones and All.
His description is almost word for word the way you described it to him after he asked the same exact question.
"So it's a movie about eating people?"
Clementine laughed, shaking her head, and moved to sit against his headboard. Her skin was still flushed from their previous actions, and her mouth was dry. 
"Cannibalism is just the placeholder for many different vices. Everyone has their vices. By using something that damn near everyone looks down on, the symbolism of just how serious these issues are get understood tenfold. Think of it like this, you get mental illness from one parent, and the other denies that you have it. They believe you're perfect, nothing is wrong, but deep inside, there is this illness growing in you and festering out of control that you can't get help for, that won't be accepted."
"Imagine being homosexual, imagine not being able to express that, especially in the eighties; it becomes a bliss you have to satisfy in private. Something you must keep a secret, or something bad will happen to you. Some vices are passed on, like alcoholism or addiction, and even trauma can be passed on, like mental illness; it's about how you have to hide it all, how it catches up to you, and how it ruins you. If you watch it, think about that, Lewis. Think about what each character represents. What is the flesh they're eating?"
Lewis cries during the movie. He sees that he is not the only one as the lights illuminate the cinema, and there are no dry eyes in sight. Lewis would never understand how Clem was able to have such a complex mind and also make it so simple and still artistic to the point where anyone could understand.
Lewis usually hates being forced to attend film festivals. He especially dreads the standing ovations that drag on and on. But he graciously stands for the entire seventeen minutes that her movie receives. 
He's always told Clem that, at a certain point, she'd have to let that humbleness go. Lewis was a humble person, there was nothing wrong with it, but he didn't like that Clem thought she didn't deserve praise for her work. He wanted her to know she was the shit. 
He feels his heart swell with pride as she marvels at the cheers, whoops, whistles, and applause. 
He places his fingers between his lips, letting out a whistle of his own. It dominates the space, and she turns to face him like she knows it is him.
Clementine's grin grows impossibly larger, and she lifts her arm to wave at Lewis. He spreads his arms out in front of him and bows at her.
Clementine chuckles, shaking her head at him. 
Although she attends the film festival every year, this was her first time presenting her work as a director. This was a huge deal to her. Not only was she the star actress in the film, but this was hers. Her work, her words, her art, and people loved it and understood.
As two more dreamy minutes pass on and the cinema falls into an air of collective chatter, she folds her hands over her heart and speaks to her fellow costars. 
"Holy fucking shit," Timothee curses, "do you understand that we just got a nineteen-minute standing ovation?" He places her head between his hands, pulling it towards him and placing a kiss in her hair. "Fuck, Clem. You're a fucking creative genius, you know that?"
-
When Clementine finally got used to people she realized that she actually does like parties. Here she was being celebrated by people, some she knew, some she didn't all the way in France. 
She is in a mansion in France, fresh off the red carpet, throwing back shots with every pat on the back. There is a thrill in being praised, and with each pat on the back or congratulatory kiss on the cheek she gets, she feels herself levitating.
When Clementine first got the idea for the movie, she stayed awake for twenty-four hours, holed up in her bedroom, typing away at her keyboard as she planned and created rough drafts of a proposal. 
If you asked Clem, she doesn't think that she's a creative genius like everyone else believes. She thinks that she materializes how she feels into forms of art that people will understand. She doesn't sit and think long and hard or even look for targeted things to express. She just knows. 
Clem wanted to write a movie for those she felt had been denying themselves. For the kids confused about their feelings and things they can't control. From alcoholism, sexual identity, mental illness, addiction, and all the way to feeling lonely and navigating life on your own. She wanted to make a movie that materialized how it feels to come of age without understanding the purpose of life. And she'd done it.
Clem wouldn't say she was particularly close to any of the people here at the afterparty, minus Timothee. They had grown very close since filming together. 
Clem actually wouldn't say she was close to many people at all other than her small, tight-knit group of friends and, of course, Lewis. Which is ironic because their entire relationship is built on the basis of sex. 
She can't lie; when she first met Lewis, she was instantly attracted to him. He had a certain kind of charm about him that just screamed, You're going to respect me.
Clem liked that Lewis stood ten toes behind what he believed, always. She liked that he was genuinely a kind person and not just pretending for the media. What he put out was actually who he was, and Clementine wasn't used to seeing that in the celebrity world. 
Lewis fully intended to be friends with Clementine when he called her that first night, but the longer they were in each other’s presence, the more obvious it was to sense the lingering sexual tension between them.
Clem wasn't offended when Lewis admitted that he wanted to sleep with her and keep her around without the formalities of a romantic relationship.
In fact, she was fine with it. 
She didn't judge him when he explained how he wasn't a relationship kind of guy. She listened intently when he described how demanding his job was, and she even hummed along in agreement when he concluded that sex can sometimes just be fun.
It'd been two years since she first met Lewis; she was older and more mature. More demanding of herself. 
She was learning to let things go as the days passed and let things come when the world felt. 
She feels like she's gotten to know herself better, and she owes a lot of that to the nearly 40-year-old driver who has taken the time to unravel parts of her that no one else bothered. 
So when she sees Lewis walk through the grand entrance now dressed in a far more casual outfit than the black Louis Vuitton tuxedo that adorned his frame earlier, she can't help the way her smile makes her eyes crinkle.
She rushes from the bar, slipping past the guests, crowding the home, and speeds up the stairs as fast as her heels can take her. 
She lets her dress fall at her feet as she tosses on her own less formal outfit and descends the stairs again in search of her friend.
He sees her first, perched on the stairs with a concentrated face, and he chuckles at just how focused she looks. Her eyes are scanning the crowd, and he waits patiently until her eyes catch his.
When they finally meet, he raises his hand in a cool wave, and she grins, skipping down the stairs. He raises his brows when she finally makes it to him after being stopped time and time again by other partygoers.
"Lady of the hour, huh?" He jokes, pulling her into him. 
"I don't even know these people," she whispers, smiling softly and offering a wave as a drunken man passes by and calls out her name. She turns back to Lewis with fogged eyes, "Timothee wanted to throw an afterparty, so here we are."
"You have been celebrating?"
"I've taken a few shots or so." She smiles, "Can we get out of here?"
Lewis nods, "Yeah, of course."
His hand travels down and takes her own, leading her from the full house. "Where do you want to go, love?"
"Anywhere is fine; just want to be far away from people." She sighs.
Lewis peers down at her, watching as she scours the long driveway.
He motions her to his car and she slips from his hold already pacing towards it. She hops into the passenger side when she hears the car unlock and he plops down into the drivers seat.
"Why are you here in France? You didn't tell me you'd be here." Clem inquires as Lewis places his phone into her lap so that she can play music. He always preferred her music taste when they rode in the car late at night.
"I wanted to see the movie and support my friend." He smirked.
"You have to be in Monaco tomorrow!" she gasps. " You can't do that, Lew. You need rest. When did you even get here?"
"I touched down today after qualifying."
"No." Clem disapproves, "I could’ve just gotten you tickets to the premier. You must be so tired." 
Lewis shakes his head, "M'fine. Besides, I wanted to be one of the first people to see it." Which was a lie because he was totally exhausted. 
"Early flight tomorrow, then?" Clem asks.
Lewis only nods, already knowing her eyes are set on him. Frank Ocean begins to play through his speakers, and he hums along to the song playing. It brings upon his next thought.
"I say you posting in the studio?" He eyes, "Let me find out Clemy girl about to be in the booth spitting."
She laughs shaking her head, "not even, I was just there with Tyler. Did record a few vocals for him though."
"Maybe one day you should, I don't know, release something of your own."
Clem scoffs, "I know you think I can do everything. We're not all great at everything."
"It's true, do you think you can do it all, besides I've heard you singing in the shower; sounds nice."
"So you wait outside of the bathroom listening to me, creep."
He smacks his teeth, removing one hand from the wheel to blindly mush her.
"I'm serious, though. I think you have a beautiful voice."
"Thank you. Maybe one day we'll both stop playing in the studio and do something together." She chortles, "So I guess what I'm saying is, I'll do it if you do."
Lewis smirked, nodding his head. "Deal."
Lewis takes her back to his hotel for the night. He smiles as he watches her from the living room. She is on the balcony, arms spread along the banister. 
He approaches her. Like she can sense his presence, she speaks up, "Beautiful, isn't it?"
He doesn't bother looking out to the view. He keeps his eyes on her. "Yeah, very beautiful."
Sometime in the night, the two of them ended up entangled in his bed, both on their sides, as Lewis thrust into her from behind. One of his arms is outstretched and serving as a pillow for her neck, and the other is wrapped around her waist, holding onto her hand as he moves deeper and deeper into her warmth. 
He knows that when she squeezes around him for that final time, he's as good as done for, sheathing himself as far as he can get; his mouth drops open as he releases himself in heavy spurts. Clem exhales as he finishes, her grip on his hand loosening slightly. 
Lewis doesn't bother to remove himself from her core; the arm nestled between the crook of her neck and shoulder bends until his hand is cupping her jaw and forcing her head back towards him, where he is leaning over her shoulder. He smashes his lips against hers in a searing peck, one after the other, until he holds his mouth against hers. She opens her mouth, and their tongues glide against each other in perfect harmony. 
Finally, they pull apart to breathe, and Lewis pulls out with a hiss. They both fall onto their backs, his taken arm still resting beneath her head and his free arm holding their conjoined hands against his chest.
"It gets better and better every time." She admits, and Lewis lets out his signature boyish laugh, turning to face Clem. She is taking the time to catch her breath, a happy, satisfied grin covering her face as she stares up at nothing.
It's like a scene from a movie. The curtains flowed gently against the wind, and the night sky of Cannes was illuminated by stars blazing through his open balcony doors. Clem's exquisite side profile is the main focus.
He reaches over, pulls his phone from the nightstand, and slyly takes a picture before dropping his phone beside him and reconnecting their hands. 
"I should go," Clem announces with a sigh. "You have an early morning ahead of you."
"You don't have to go." Lewis tested, "It's late."
"It's always late when we're together, Lewis." Clem reminds.
"I- Just stay the night. It doesn't have to be weird. We know what we're doing."
He feels her head turn against his head and knows that she's looking at him with those same endearing eyes. "Okay," she whispers into the air.
"Besides, we haven't talked." Lewis murmurs, and Clem smiles. "Can't break the ritual. You remember when I asked you where you would be if you weren't you, and you said Montana?"
Clem hums in agreement. "Yeah, what about it?"
"Think we should go one day, you and me. See those animals; climb that mountain."
Clem wills back the tears burning behind her eyes. That conversation occurred two months into their arrangement, and two and a half years later, here he was, bringing up small details to a dream she'd told him about briefly. 
"What?" Lewis murmurs, watching her grin.
"Nothing, just surprised you remembered that, is all."
"I remember everything you say to me, Clementine."
"I'd love to go to Montana with you," she whispers after a while. "It's the prettiest in spring." 
"Well, we'll go next spring then." Lewis declares.
Clem smiles against against his arm, placing a peck there. "Deal, if you're not sick of me by then, we'll climb that mountain in Montana."
Lewis turns back towards the celing hoping she can't tell that her simple actions had his face burning and had his blood rushing. 
"You know in eternal sunshine of the spotless mind when they're laying on the ice?"
"Yeah, Clem." Lewis chuckles. "We've watched it a million times."
"That's what it feels like laying here right now with you."
"Thank you." Lewis grins.
"Her hair was blue." Clem points out. "Her hair changed colors to represent their relationship. Why do you think it was blue?"
"They were starting over. Maybe she was still down about erasing him."
"Huh," Clem sighs, "that's a good take." 
"Shower?"
"With you?" She wonders.
"If you're okay with that."
 "I just let you fuck me into oblivion. Why not let you clean me up."
Much cleaning hadn't gone down in the shower. 
clementine
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liked by lewishamilton, tchalamet, and 8,898,465 others
clementine the best week, the most perfect week.  
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lewishamilton Amazing movie 🙌🏽 such a deep message.
tchalamet And she's done it again people.
badgalriri Such a beautiful film, queen. ❤️
pharell, You're a literal artistic genius; I look forward to working with you in the future.
user Clemmy + Timmy. The duo we didn't know we needed.
-
As Lewis saunters around the hotel room quietly the next morning, he keeps a cautious eye on the girl in his bed. He trips over his discarded shoe as he focuses on not waking her up. He mentally facepalms himself as she begins to stir.
Clem sits up, dazed and groggy; she clutches the sheets to her chest as she peers at Lewis, who looks like a deer caught in headlights. 
"Good morning," he winces, "Sorry, I was packing my suitcase back up, didn't mean to wake you."
"It's fine," she rasps, reaching over to grab her phone and checking the time. When she sees that it's seven in the morning, she internally groans but slides her legs off the side of the bed to get ready to pack herself up.
"Woah, hey-" Lewis is by her side in an instant. "Where you going, love?"
Clem pauses, still half asleep she examines him through puffy eyes. "Your flight is at 8:30, right? You're about to head out."
Lewis nods but lifts her legs back onto the bed. "Yeah, but checkout is not until twelve." 
When he realizes that she is still glancing at him in confusion, he sits on the bed beside her. "You can stay here, Clem; get some rest before you get on the road. I'll leave the room key with you. Just let them know you're checking out for the king suite."
He laughs as she furrows her brows. "Don't make it weird." he reiterates from last night. 
She lets her head fall back against the pillows, more than happy to return to her slumber.
"How long are you going to be in Monaco?"
"About a week." 
Clem tried not to think too deeply about his big palm spread over her thigh, his thumb caressing it so tenderly.
"Oh." She mutters, "and then Canada?"
Lewis chuckles, his hand coming up to hold her jaw tenderly, his thumb caressing her cheek. "Look at you," he chuckles, "got my schedule memorized, huh?"
Clem feels the familiar burning in her face as she suppresses her shy smile. "Oh, please." she scoffs. "We've been at this for two years. Of course, I remember the times you begged me to hop on your plane and fly to you so that you could get your rocks off."
Lewis smirks, "Look at that, caught a flight to you this time." And he's bending down and smearing his mouth against hers. He dominates the kiss, his large hand on her jaw keeping her in place for him to use her mouth as he pleases. "Mhmm." he groans pulling away. 
"Wanna stay with you here all day, Clem. But I've got a flight to catch." 
He is standing and bending over to press one last unexpected peck to her mouth and then her temple before he is at the end of the bed and latching onto his suitcase. 
"The keys on the table, okay? Go back to sleep, and order yourself some food for me when you wake up. And text me, okay?"
Clem sits up, still mind-boggled from the kiss, and nods her head. 
Lewis smiles, sending her a wave and easing out of the door.
Clementine nearly screams as the door clicks shut, and she hears his footsteps getting farther away.
Casually kissing wasn't a thing between them. Lewis was sweet, yes, but not once has he sat and caressed her and spoken so softly to her. She had never spent the night with him or fell asleep in his arms. And here he was, flipping her entire world upside down and telling her not to make it weird.
It's what she repeats to herself over and over throughout the day as the tender moments with Lewis replay in her head. 
He was just being a friend, of course he would show up to support her, right? Of course he wouldn't want her to be on the road late at night or extra early in the morning? And they've kissed before, only during sex but maybe he was wound up in the moment, they were friends with added benefits, did those benefits now include impromptu kisses?
She groans as she checks out from his room and hobbles into the waiting SUV where her assistant waits with her packed bags. "You had a time last night." SK teases as he takes in his boss' disheveled appearance. 
"Shut up." Clem grunts, buckling herself in. 
SK raises his hands in surrender and then gets back to typing away on his phone. Clem lets her forehead drop against the window as she drives through the beautiful French city. 
"Hey, SK?" When he lets out a noise to signal he's listening, she asks him for a favor. "If I asked you to find something for me and get it sent to Monaco, do you think you could get it there before the end of the week?"
SK smacks his teeth, "Girl, please, do you know who you're talking to? I could have it there tomorrow."
"You're the best, SK." she smiles.
"Don't I know it. What is it you need me to get my hands on."
-
Sure enough, the next morning, Lewis is interrupted by a knock on his door as he clips on his jewelry. 
He saunters over to the door his pants hung low and shirtless, swinging open the door to reveal the butler that the hotel provided. When his eyes travel south he see's the luxurious gift box in his hands.
"For you, Sir Hamilton. Delivered early today, pre-approved by your assistant."
Lewis thanks the man, motioning for him to hold still for a second as he rushes to retrieve some hefty bills from his wallet. 
He pulls the box from his outstretched hand and replaces it with the bills.
When Lewis closes the door and saunters over to the couch, he plops down and sets the box on the coffee table.
He pulls the stock card from underneath the black ribbon and smiles as he reads over it.
thank you for showing up for me, and congrats on yet another win.
- 🍊
He smiles and taps the card against the box a few times before deciding to open it. He lets out a surprised squawk as he lifts the lid and sees a packaged vintage Big Homer super buggy.
Lewis covers his mouth with his hands stuck between letting out a scream that would resemble a child on christmas day or a cry.
Clementine Russell, he thinks, the woman you are.
He pulls out his phone, snaps a picture of the gift, and sends it to her.
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damiansgoodgirll · 3 days
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I would like a story where Damian becomes extremely protective of his wife and child after a dangerous event occurs.
i looooove writing about this kind of stuff! let’s say this is kind of an utopia but it could still happen, okay?
anyway
damian priest x reader
‼️angst and fluff
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wrong house
your life was perfect.
perfect like in one of those romantic comedy.
you had a loving husband, a beautiful daughter and a big house like you dreamed about when you were a kid. a huge living room, plenty of space for your daughter to run and play, a backyard pool and the classic white picket fence. you were in a nice and wealthy neighbourhood, surrounded by lots of parks and kind people.
what more could you ask for?
a couple of blocks away from your neighbourhood there’s been a few robberies, nothing major, just some teens thinking it was fun scaring old people, but police officers told you multiple times that you didn’t have to worry about it, that they have it handle it.
damian wasn’t so sure about it tho.
he made everything in his power to provide you with a beautiful house, a nice neighbourhood so you could feel safe when he was travelling for work so the idea of having teens breaking into people’s homes late at night made him shiver, especially when he thought about you and your daughter.
“are you sure it’s okay? i can come home early…you know it’s not a problem mi amor” he said through the phone.
“dam…” you said laughing “everything been calm for over three weeks, we’ll be okay…”
“i know it’s just…you know how i get when i’m not home, i’m only thirty minutes away from you and in case anything happens you give me a call okay?”
“i promise you dam…go back to training” you said laughing again.
“i will, tell maya that i love her okay? and that i miss her so much and that i will crush her with hugs and kisses once i come back home” he said smiling, thinking about his two years old daughter.
“i will i promise…go back to training, we’ll see you in a couple of hours…” you said giving him a kiss through your phone and hanging up.
you smiled watching your daughter being completely invested in the cartoon she was watching.
the evening went on normally.
you and maya had dinner together, you got her ready for the night but as usual she didn’t want to go to bed without having a goodnight kiss from her father, so, instead of going to bed, you spent the early night together, watching some cartoons and eating popcorn.
you watched the time and you knew damian would be back in an hour so you took a few seconds to close your eyes and relax a bit.
non even a minute passed that you heard some weird noise coming from the back door.
you knew for sure that damian wasn’t back, you didn’t hear the car and even if he was, you knew he never used the back door, so what was going on?
then you heard them, two, maybe three voices talking softly. saying how hard it was to open your door and that maybe they should go to another house. you prayed that they would let you alone but when you heard the click sound of the door opening you realised it was too late.
you grabbed maya into your arms and pulled her towards your chest. moving fast to the bedroom, you locked yourself in, and then you locked yourself into the bathroom, hiding maya behind you in the tub.
you knew you should have called the police, you knew that but the first person that came to your mind was damian.
you didn’t know what was going on, and if something bad was going to happen you wanted to hear damian’s voice one last time.
“please…” you whispered, waiting to hear his voice.
your hands were shaking and even if you were crying, you were praying no one would be able to hear you from downstairs.
“hey love” he answered.
“dam?” your voice broke.
“hermosa…what’s going on?” he asked, alarmed by the sound of your voice.
“dam they’re here…”
“who?” he knew who, he just didn’t want it to be real.
“someone’s in the house…dam, they’re in the kitchen, looking for something i guess, i’m in the bathroom with maya, we’re locked in…i know they never hurt anyone, they’re just kids but…damian i’m so scared, i don’t want anything to happen to maya” you broke down, trying to muffle your cries.
“listen to me amor, i’m coming back home right now okay?” he said and you hummed “you’re on the speaker, finn is with me and he’s calling the police right now, you stay at the phone with me okay?”
he didn’t know how he was able to remain so calm. in reality he was freaking out, just the thought of you and maya being in danger made his blood boil.
“is maya okay?” he asked.
“she’s okay, she’s scared too but she’s okay” you said, looking at your daughter’s face. she was confused and definitely scared but still she didn’t know what was going on.
“are you okay love? i’m coming back home, right now..you stay at the phone with me okay?”
“okay…” you said.
you hear the noise from downstairs growing closer to you, they were in the living room right now. you were lucky your house was big enough that you had the time to hide.
“damian they’re closer…i can hear them… i’m so scared…”
“i know princesa i know….keep holding on for me okay…i’m driving as fast as possible, keep holding on”
“i love you so much damian…so so much”
“don’t say that like it’s the last time you’ll say this…” damian’s heart broke, he couldn’t imagine how scared you must have been “i love you so much mi amor and i’m not going anywhere, ill stay at the phone with you, finn just told me the police is on their way…”
“okay…” you whispered.
damian kept talking to you but you stopped him when you heard the sirens ringing.
“police is here…” you whispered letting damian know about it.
you heard them breaking down the front door. you heard them chasing the kids around your house and you heard them calling your name.
you waited until they found you. they were police but you didn’t trust them enough to come out yet, you didn’t feel safe. the only place where you always felt safe was between damian’s arms and you couldn’t wait for him to be back.
you and your daughter were brought downstairs. you didn’t care about the broken furnitures, not when something worse could have happened.
damian ran into the house, fighting off police officers who told him to stay outside.
“my wife and my daughter are inside!” you heard him screaming, shoving past one officer.
“dam…” you said, tears running down your face.
“hey…” he whispered hugging you tight. maya was watching the whole scene with a confused smile. she was just a kid, too young to understand what was going on. one police officer was sat next to her, while you couldn’t let go of damian’s embrace.
“i was so scared…”
“i know mi amor, i know…everything is over now, you’re safe, you and maya are safe…” he kept repeating, more to himself, because he couldn’t describe how terrified he was when you told him someone broke into your house.
“i’m so glad she’s okay…i would have fought with all my life if something happened….”
“i know hermosa…she’s so lucky to have you as her mom, i’m so glad to call you my wife…and i’m so happy to see you both here alive, i’m so sorry i wasn’t here”
“damian, it’s not your fault” you said before he could blame himself “you’re here now and it’s all that matters”
“i love you so much…and you too maya” he said moving to bring her up in his arms.
she was just happy to see his daddy smiling at her.
“missed you” she said with her soft voice that always made your heart smile.
“i missed you too princess…and i’m not going anywhere for a long time” he said kissing her head “daddy is gonna stay here with you”
she seemed happy with his decision and so were you.
it was kinda selfish taking him away from his work but he knew that you wouldn’t trust yourself to be home alone for some time now and he didn’t want to leave you alone, never.
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essektheylyss · 10 hours
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for the ask game: 🧡🖤💚
🧡: What is a popular (serious) theory you disagree with?
Until I see definitive proof that Ludinus is in fact as old as he wants people to believe he is, I will not believe it. I don't even really have an opinion on how old he is; I just don't think he's as old as he tries to suggest. And lest it be said that I am playing favorites, the thing about Ludinus is that he talks the way Essek talks in 91—and there are a lot of things Essek says at that dinner that I take with a good heaping of salt. It's this sense that they're talking around things that they would rather people not question; they're both very skilled at talking around things in a way where they aren't outright lying, but they'd rather you not think too hard about it because there's shit they're not saying. To be clear I also won't be mad if there does turn out to be some evidence in canon that he is that old, but thus far, there is nothing definitive, and I do not take the word of unreliable NPCs at face value.
🖤: Which character is not as morally good as everyone else seems to think?
I don't think this is really an unpopular opinion at this point, but Jester. Nice =/= good. I don't think she's evil, by any means! But her morality is a lot more complex than it's given credit for and I think it's one of the things that is most interesting about her. I'd actually consider her largely amoral; it's just not really an axis of consideration that she worries about. She doesn't want people to hurt her or her friends and she doesn't want something to destroy the world, but otherwise she doesn't really care much about what someone's morality is. "Just don't be evil to me" is an incredible sentiment for a reason. She cares more that Essek said they were his friends than the fact that he's the traitor they've been looking for. Ludinus is so insignificant to her despite his literally world-spanning evil plots that she has basically forgotten him six years later, even though two members of her friend group have spent the last six years trying to pin him down. Jester is hilariously amoral and I love that for her.
💚: What does everyone else get wrong about your favorite character?
[cracks knuckles] OKAY, this is where I've got receipts, because hooo boy do I have an opinion and I will be proving it.
Essek does not have an opinion on the Prime Deities. He does not really have much of an opinion on religion. He actually does not by the end of the campaign have any real issue with the Luxon, and frankly he primarily expressed issue with the Dynasty's worship because, until he got to Aeor, he wasn't certain that the Luxon was a real entity at all—which he contrasts against the Prime Deities, in fact!—and he seems to believe there is compelling evidence in Aeor that categorically disproves his hypothesis that the beacons are simply constructed Age of Arcanum devices.
Originally he is mostly concerned that the Luxon religion is used as a "crutch" which is "distracting them from what other good things they could do with the time and focus". He does specify that any religion can be used as such, but he only remarks upon the one he knows. His theory about the beacons, as of episode 91, is that they may be "artifacts designed in the Age of Arcanum that have been misread" that could be put to even further use.
He also does parrot the Dynasty party line in their first meeting about the Luxon being "the basis of how we've been able to free ourselves from the binds of the lineage the Betrayer Gods left for us", and while I do not take him at face value here (see the above commentary about unreliable NPCs), I doubt the truth of this statement is lost on him, considering his familial connections to Bazzoxan, which I can only imagine would not exactly endear one to the Betrayers, though this is only conjecture. If we do care to take him at his word here, it's not unreasonable, since he obviously has a lot more interest in the power offered by the beacons than anything else.
With all that being said, his tune on the Luxon itself has at least changed by the time they get to Aeor. He discusses iconography found in Aeor and when prompted by the Nein about whether the beacons were created by mortals, says, "I do not believe that they are made by anyone but the Luxon. They are of the Luxon. But they've been around since the Luxon's been in Exandria, which is the beginning."
So we started with him largely apathetic to religion, uncertain if this god was real, and by the time we circle back to him, he has now sided fairly definitively with the fact that the Luxon is an entity that has been around since at least the Founding. (For those keeping track at home, this is longer than Predathos has been around. In the Dynasty's creation myth, it may also have been around before the Prime Deities arrived, which is technically not incompatible with the creation myth of Exandria at large, but I digress.) Like most of Exandria, and as is perfectly reasonable for both his culture and his region, he probably doesn't have any love for the Betrayer Gods, but doesn't express much opinion if any on the Prime Deities. He has no time for religion, but frankly, he doesn't have time for much except for his own research, so it's hard to really ascribe any noted contempt to that.
Like, look, I've written plenty of religious trauma Essek fic, and I don't doubt that that element of it exists, but overall, in terms of canonical statements, it's pretty tame.
With that being said, I do want to fast forward a bit to draw attention to something else. Because I actually do think he ends the campaign with some measure of respect for, at the very least, the Wildmother.
In 140 after the Raise Dead fails, he talks briefly with Fjord about the unfairness of it. Fjord passively directs him to "if you were to ask my wise friend Caduceus..." Immediately after this exchange, Essek challenges Caleb to not accept defeat, and admits he wishes there was more that he or any of them could do, but concedes that, "Unfortunately, this type of magic is beyond my purview."
Immediately after this exchange, Caduceus asks for divine intervention.
Of course, he then spends several weeks gardening in a temple to the Wildmother, and seems to find some genuine clarity and perspective there, but I think this alone is enough to argue that, for a person as driven by empirical evidence as Essek, this sequence of events in 140 would be plenty to earn a wizard's respect.
So my formal belief is that Essek is not in fact anti-god or anti-religion, let alone against the Prime Deities. My opinion is that it's very easy to imagine him on his post-campaign travels leaving a small offering at any shrine of Melora he might pass, not out of actual worship but as a sign of respect.
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lovelytsunoda · 1 day
Text
does he take care of you? // george russell
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does he take care of you? or could i easily fill his shoes, but you say 'no'. yeah you said 'no'... and i'm not trying to stop you love, if we're gonna do anything we might as well just fuck
summary: they had always been walking a fragile, tender line between friends and lovers. they were bound to cross it at some point.
pairing: george russell x bonnington!reader
warnings: an attempt is made at angst, people can't properly deal with their feelings. minor drug use, insinuations and non detailed sex (but bestie bonnington can’t deal with her feelings properly so she bails when things get serious-) one small little insinuation that someone might jump off a building. loosely inspired by the song 'sex' by the 1975
it was dark outside, nearing ten pm at the track when peter bonnington came to find george. george was in his drivers room, looking over printouts of race data, trying desperately to figure out where he could improve the following weekend.
“I hate to bother you, mate.” peter started, “do you have a moment?”
thankful for the reprieve from straight line speed and throttle graphs, george folded the printouts back into their legal folder and turned to look at the engineer. “what do you need?”
there were lines furrowed on bonnos brow. the man looked stressed, and george had a feeling that it wasn’t due to the cars subpar performance.
“I need you to talk to y/n. she hasn’t been doing well these past few months and I’m starting to get really worried. she won’t talk to me and she won’t talk to her mum. toto tried to ask her about it and she threw her drink in his face. something is wrong with my little girl and she’s shutting me out.”
george frowned (although he had to admit that the mental image of babe bonnington throwing the icy remainder of her pink starbucks refresher onto the great toto wolff made him laugh). “when did all this start?”
“when she came back from wales a few months ago, that big work trip. I think it has something to do with that wanker matthew she was dating, he hasn’t been around the house since before she left.”
“do you know where she is?”
“the roof, I think.”
at the look george gave him, bono sighed, shaking his head. “she’s not gonna jump. she just wants peace and quiet. I think the inside of her head is too loud. besides, the motor home isn’t high enough off the ground for anything serious to happen if she falls.”
“still, why would you let her be on her own right now?”
“she didn’t give me a choice.”
after a bit of floundering (and a trip back down the stairs after he realized he’d forgotten a coat), george found his way to the roof. from here, he couldn’t quite see the track, but he could see the lights and hear the sounds of the paddock, watching the last few stragglers exit their team homes and head for the front gates.
y/n sat at the edge, feet pulled up under her and a halo of smoke around her messy hair. her clothes were baggier than normal, darker than usual. when she turned to face him, the driver could see that her eyeliner was smudged, a single mascara tear running down her cheek. in her hand, she shakily clutched a lit joint, the embers at the end glowing orange in the night.
“I thought you quit that?” george asked, concern evident in his tone as he moved to sit next to her.
“fucking mattys fault.” she grumbled, taking a long drag of the fragrant plant. “he’s set my anxiety issues back about five years, figured it was time to go get my cbd prescription refilled.” she stopped, taking another drag before exhaling the smoke and offering it up to george. “it won’t get you high, but if we share it, it will make this look less sad.”
george frowned, taking the joint from her hand and taking a shaky drag, choking in the smoke as it filed his lungs. “what did he do? did he touch you?”
she laughed sadly, defeat in her eyes as she looked over the paddock. “nope. what he did hurt a whole lot more. when I got back from wales I went over to his apartment to surprise him, since my flight had gotten in a few hours early. he was in bed with another woman. and this wasn’t the first time, either. he’s been seeing her almost as long as he’s been seeing me. apparently she didn’t know I existed, and he was thinking about marrying her. I was fucking humiliated, george.”
“I’m so sorry.” he didn’t know what to say as he passed the joint back. she took a long drag, refusing to meet his eyes until he had reached over to shake her gently by the shoulder. “you did nothing wrong. you are pretty and funny and smart and most of all worthy of love. if matty couldn’t see that, then he didn’t deserve you in the first place, y/n.”
it happened so suddenly it almost knocked the driver on his backside. they were just talking, sitting comfortably in the marijuana smoke and then suddenly the engineers daughter is kissing him. soft, guava lips pressed to his, pillowy from all the tropical lip balms she can’t seem to put down. her hands are hungry, extinguishing the joint against the metal motor home roof before pawing at george’s broad frame.
they had been friends for years, yn considered him one of her closest. it must have been the part of her that needed reassurance that said ‘it’s okay, cross the line’ because soon enough, he was kissing her back, tongue exploring her mouth with reverence, hands gripping her waist through her mom jeans, then slipping into her back pockets to cop a feel.
“is there anyone left inside?” she panted, resting her forehead against george’s, hand splayed against his clothed chest.
the driver shook his head.
“good. I want you.”
and then they were in his drivers room, everything happening so fast that it felt like a fever dream. and then it happened, her jeans and panties on the floor, stripped down the lacy camisole she’d had on under her sweater, back on the massage table as she wrapped her bare legs around george’s hips, his hands gripping thighs hard enough to leave marks as he pounded into her, sweat dripping off the tips of his brown hair.
“god, fuck, george, please!” none of the words leaving her mouth were coherent. it didn’t matter. this was about avoidance, a mere distraction, if you will.
she needed to be fucked so hard she couldn’t think about all the bullshit matty was putting her through.
when all was said and done, her mind blissfully clear as she lay prone on the massage table, feeling the sweat dry on her flushed skin as she watched george tuck his cock back into his jeans, all she could find it in her to say was “god I needed that.”
and from there, it was all too easy to fall into a dangerous pattern that didn’t help anybody. one that tord a line so fragile it might as well have been made of salt, intended to keep the deeper feelings out.
the night in george’s drivers room turned into a quickie the next morning in the airport bathroom, bent over the vanity in front of a mirror, panties around her ankles and a massive hickey tucked into her turtleneck as they sat across from each other on the private jet, sharing a glance and smiling at the secret they shared,
eventuakly, back on home soil, the driver became her coping mechanism. when she wanted to go out but her friends were busy, george was the first person she called, pulling up to his house in her toyota corolla, synth-heavy music that was popular on tumblr in 2014 shaking the frame of the car. she turned it down as george opened the passenger door, giving her an odd look as the guitar solo played quieter in the background.
“how can you think when it’s that loud?”
“that’s the point. I can’t. it keeps the thoughts at bay.”
that night had ended in the back of an empty parking garage, movie theater popcorn and a takeout box left abandoned on the passenger seat, y/n on her knees with george’s rock hard length in her mouth. hearing him moan her name was its own kind of drug, and hearing him call her ‘good girl’ was enough to have her clenching around air.
or when george would come over, and they would make a new recipe together, criminal minds playing in the background. how many nights did the dinner end up burning while george had y/n's legs spread wide on the dining room table?
and while the act itself brought him nothing but pleasure, it was the aftermath that left him feeling like shit. he knew this was never going to go any further, that y/n was just looking for a rebound. something to take her mind off just how fucked her last relationship had been.
george would never be anything more than a friend, someone she could fuck when she needed it and be platonic with when she didn't.
she deserved better, someone who could take care of her in teh way that her heart ached for.
someone like george william russell, he thought.
but who was he to decide what was best for her? maybe he could show her, treat her right and change her mind somehow. but he wasn’t sure how to do it.
it was a night like any other, over a game of uno and a bottle of white wine, reruns of coronation street playing in the background, the smooth jazz of the intro and outro music only adding to the atmosphere.
and of course, as nights like these do, the cards ended up discarded on george’s living room floor, bodies mushed together in a heap in front of the soft blue glow of the tv. he picked her up bridal style, deftly lifting her weight as if she weighed nothing, carrying her to the master bedroom.
the bedroom. a place so intimate and so forbidden. their relationship had subsisted on having sex anywhere but a bed, for a bed would make it too real. there would be too many feelings involved.
and yet here he was, taking a massive leap into the unknown, uncharted waters as he laid her down against the linens, caging her body in with his as he kissed her.
a kiss so different from all the others that they shared, this one soft and tender. no teeth and no tongue, just the soft caress of a man’s chapped lips, done with reverence, as if her body was a treasure.
he trailed his soft, open mouthed kisses down her neck, no words exchanged between the two as his hands began to slide up her black t-shirt, over her belly-button piercing and then coming to rest over the padding of her bra as his lips traced her collarbone. he was in tune to her every movement, every whine and gasp.
he kissed down her stomach, feeling it rise and fall with her every breath. listening to the way that her breath caught as he popped open the button in her skinny jeans, dragging them down her legs and watching the goosebumps rise in their wake.
“george,” she hummed as he kissed and nibbled at her inner thigh, so close yet so far from what she needed.
“george!” it was a shout this time, paired with her small hands aggressively pushing him away. “I can’t do this. what are we doing here?”
“what?” george was wide eyed an confused “I’m treating you like a decent fucking boyfriend would! I like you yn, and you mean a lot to me. you deserve more than some cheap fuck in the backseat. you deserve to be treated like a treasure.”
she shook her head, standing up from the bed and pulling her jeans back on, refusing to meet georges eyes as she faced the firestorm of thoughts in her head, each one telling her that she had made a horrible mistake.
“we can’t. there was a line, and we crossed it.” her voice was shaky, bottom lip quivering. she was doing the right thing, or so she kept telling herself. putting that boundary back.
because they were friends. nothing more, nothing less.
george laughed. an awful, grating sound in this context. “you weren’t worried about crossing lines when you let me fuck you on my massage table. or when you had my cock down your throat.”
“please don’t take that tone with me!”
“I know matty hurt you. and I know you needed a rebound, but I want all of you, yn. I want your good days and your bad. I want to take care of you.” he was getting desperate. they both knew that there was no such thing as ‘just friends’ after this.
“I can’t be what you need, and I can take care of myself.” she tucked her hair behind her ear before storming last george and back into the living room.
george would always regret letting her leave. somehow, as he watched her grab her purse and her leather jacket and the keys to her fucking toyota, that this would be the last time he saw y/n bonnington.
and he was right.
he didn’t see her start to cry when she got into her car, driving to an empty space of road so she could pull over into the shoulder and let it all out, the radio tuned so loud that she swore it was shaking the frame of the car. and that’s when she decided it was time to reevaluate her life.
george didnt see her again for months. he heard from bonno that she quit her job, moved out to the coast. somewhere on the water. brighton or blackpool or bournemouth. a new group of friends, a new job, a fresh start.
she sold the toyota, bought herself a mini cooper countryman, a car she’d wanted since she was a little girl. she stopped wearing tight, dark clothes and starting seeking out florals, pastels even. flowier clothes that made her feel good.
and she was happy. from time to time, she still thought about that night at george’s. in a way, she was thankful. it had forced her to change, to become a better person. a healthier one. but she hated that she had hurt him. played with his feelings and then stomped on his heart. but deep down, she knew she had done the right thing. she could never have been the girlfriend that george needed. she was too broken.
george saw her again a year later, in the paddock at silverstone. he hardly recognized her: new hair, wide smile. mom jeans and a floral crop top that looked straight out of the seventies. she looked good. happy. healthy.
but there was something else he saw that hit him like a knife to the kidney.
it was the man on her arm. he was conventionally attractive, if you liked surfers. his dark hair flopped around his face the same way hugh grants did in ‘notting hill’ and his sunglasses were hooked into the collar of his striped resort shirt, left open for the top few buttons of course. she looked at him like he’d hung the moon, and he held her like she was the most important thing in his life, always having an arm around her shoulders, tucked into the back pocket of her jeans.
his name was colin. of course his name was fucking colin. like he was a character in fucking love actually, and not the man dating the woman george had so vulnerably bared his heart to.
he’d pulled out his phone, open to her number even though he’d sworn to himself that he’d delete it but he never did.
the text was right there in the message box, waiting to be sent.
does he take care of you?
but when he looked over at them again, his arms around her waist and his head on her shoulder as she was pointing out different things on her dad computer monitor, george knew the answer.
colin took incredible care of her, and he seemed to be exactly what she needed.
and how could george fault the other man for doing exactly what he would if y/n had been his?
he deleted the message without sending it, quietly slipping out of the garage, with the intention of working out until he couldn’t feel the pain any more.
TAGS:
@magnummagnussen @libraryofloveletters @userlando @httpiastri @clemswrld @thatsdemko @diorleclerc @cartierre @lorarri @sidcrosbyspuck
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f0point5 · 1 day
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Jealous Emilia after they get together plss I am beggingggg cook this for us plssssss 🙏🙏🙏
Not me rewriting this no less than four times and still hating it 😂 but it’s not going to get any better haha. This was hard to write because I actually don’t see Emilia as the jealous type. I kind of drew off a lot of her known insecurities and alluded to her kind of struggling with the “wag” role a bit so it’s not just her reacting poorly to Max being fawned over by a girl because I don’t think that would be true to her character. Anyway, I hope you enjoy it!
✨Set in Jeddah 2024✨
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And I’m highly suspicious that everyone who sees you wants you
If there’s one thing to be said for the Jeddah paddock, it’s pretty at sunset. You watch people moving through the paddock bathed in golden light. The ground looks like the yellow brick road. Even though it’s getting cooler now as it gets closer to qualifying, you still choose to sit inside Red Bull hospitality. You’re also sitting inside because Max said he wanted to hang out before quail. Even though he’s spent the last forty-five minutes talking to one of the hospitality guests.
Amy, something or other. She races GT cars in some series you’ve never heard of. You’re not sure what connections got her the invite to the garage but Max had been herded away by one of the media reps to take pictures with her so she must be someone’s daughter. They seem to have hit it off, you note. He’s in full maxplaining mode, bending down to the line of his own hand as he illustrates what looks like an apex. Amy isn’t even watching his hands, she’s watching Max. Hazel eyes just sparkling as she memorises every inch of him. Yeah, you know that look well enough.
And it’s not that you mind. He likes to talk racing, he likes racers. It’s not like you know what it feels like to driver a car at top speed, and more importantly you don’t want to know. The hot laps with Max were more than enough. You can’t be everything to him and you don’t need to be. You tell yourself you don’t want to be. It’s good he has other people to talk to, because it’s not like you can ever really understand his competitive streak. The man who knows nothing except how to win will not always be able to relate to the girl who has always been too afraid to lose.
No, it’s not bothering you that Max is talking to her. It’s bothering you that she has the most obvious crush on him since…no, actually, this is the most obvious crush ever. She’s played with her hair so many times you just know karma is going to make her bald someday. You hope you’re there somehow.
“Hey,”
You jump at the sound of Checo’s voice. He sits down at the end of the table, brandishing Kitkat, which he slides over to you.
“Max has made a new friend,” he says, nodding in Max’s direction.
You tear open the wrapper with far too much aggression. “So I see,” you say, trying to sound nonchalant.
“She races, right?”
You nod, biting into the chocolate. “GT, apparently,”
“Lots in common,” Checo says with a wiggle of his eyebrows. “You have to watch your back,”
You know he’s joking. You know that in no universe are you in competition with her. And yet, his words sink under your skin under your blood is curdling at the sight of Max laughing at something Amy says.
“I don’t have to watch anything,” you say with shrug, turning towards Checo. “If she can take him she can have him.” You push your hair over one shoulder and run your tongue over your teeth.
“Whoa,” Checo chuckles, throwing his hands up like he’s being faced with a hungry lion. You suppose since he has a wife, he knows the look well enough. “I was joking.” When you don’t react, he shakes his head. “It’s Max,”
You know what he means. It’s Max, not Chuck Leclerc. It’s Max, not Danny Ric. It’s Max, not Checo. But it’s Max. You don’t have to worry he’s going to lose his mind over the actresses or supermodels, but he sure seems to be respectfully admiring his female alter ego.
It’s like he can sense you thinking about him, it’s uncanny, really. Out of the corner of your eye you can see him walking towards your table with Amy in tow.
Fake smile, it’s fine, she’s just a fan.
Max introduces you, and you smile and shake her hand and ask her if she having a nice day, because you’re Max’s girlfriend, so you owe it to him to be polite. She has no such obligation, although you might be imagining her flinch when Max says the word girlfriend.
“I think it’s the best day of my life,” she says in answer to your question. The telltale flicker of her eyes in Max’s direction as they sit down almost making you roll yours.
Max doesn’t notice, he’s more interested in taking your Kitkat out of your hand and taking a bite. He bites it so that all four sticks have the end missing and you wear you’ve never been so disgusted by this man. For a second, you think Amy can have him.
“Amy races GT cars, like the ones we tested in Portugal,” he says to you now, his hand disappearing under the table to rest on your thigh and trace circles with his thumb like it’s a habit. “We are just talking about setting up a test for her with Verstappen com,”
Oh, great. So not only is she utterly bewitched by the ocean eyes, you’re making her dreams come true. Fan-fucking-tastic.
“Ah,” is all you say, sharing a look with a smirking Checo.
“That would really be such a dream come true,” Amy says, and you almost laugh. “I’m a big fan of yours, I think it’s so cool that you’re involved with things outside formula one. You should come to a race sometime. I owe you paddock passes,”
You met him three hours ago, and he isn’t even the one who invited you. Do you owe him a blowjob as well, Amy?
“Yeah. Our schedule is a bit hectic but yeah, it would be good to fit that in soon,” Max says, turning to you. “Right?”
What am I? The secretary? Because in case you didn’t notice, she didn’t fucking invite me.
You just shrug.
“GT racing doesn’t exactly draw the influencer crowd,” you are definitely not imagining the way her eyes slide over to you before she looks back at Max to say, “it’s really good racing,”
You zone out right then and there. It’s like your brain short circuits from the energy it’s taking not to reach over, grab this girl by her stringy extensions, and rip. If she and Max keep talking, you don’t hear it. You don’t want to hear it. You notice Checo noticing your discomfort, even as he engages the other two in conversation. For all his quirks, Checo reads human behaviour much better than Max. Though you don’t need to be a body language expert to see how much this girl likes him.
She looking at him like she wants to eat him, hanging on unspoken words, fingers twitching on the table like she’s desperate to touch him. And he’s nodding along, because they’re so aligned that whatever she says he agrees with, and the maxplaining is one-handed now but no less enthusiastic, and you’re about to dig your nails into his skin because he is not going to have one hand almost up your skirt while another woman is flirting with him.
All these thoughts are interrupted by the appearance of one of the Red Bull media managers.
“Amy, we were hoping to get some pictures of you with the car, if you’re free?”
“Yeah, sure, one second,” she says, turning to Max. “Which way is the garage again?” Like she doesn’t have someone who clearly just came from the garage standing right next to her.
“Just through there, keep going straight,” Max says, pointing to the corridor with engineers walking in and out. You give the girl the benefit of the doubt that she’s not that stupid, just desperate.
Reluctantly, she gets to her feet. “So, I’ll give you a call to set up the test?”
“Yeah, sure,” Max says. “Or you can call Raymond. He’ll put your team in touch with the right people,”
“Okay, awesome,” she says, leaning down enough that you can see right down her shirt. “It was really great to meet you. And I meant it about the GT race,” and then, as if remembering she can’t be rude, she glances at Checo. “You guys, too,”
You wave her off, and your smile doesn’t even fall. Because it’s funny. It’s funny that a grown woman would behave like that in front of a man’s girlfriend. It’s funny that a woman gunning for sponsorship would behave like you does regular shifts in something called the “Champagne Room”.
And it’s absolutely hilarious that Max turns to you, without a care in the world, and says, “I’ve got such a headache. I stood up into the cupboard in the garage, it hurt so bad,”
You give him tight smile and pull out your phone to text Lily to see if she’s still with Alex or if she’s free for a catch up.
“What?” You hear Max say above you. You ignore him. “What? She the-“ You look up just in time to see that Checo is mouthing something to Max. “Jealous?”
“I’m not jealous,” you snap, leaning back in the your chair to glare at both of them. They give each a mocking grin. “Yeah, very funny,” this sets them off snickering like school kids. “Fuck both of you.”
You get up and stalk through the room and back towards the garage. You don’t even know what you’ll do when you get there since being Max’s girlfriend had put an end to you just wandering down the pitlane and allowed in any garage. Maybe you’ll just try and find GP. If Max doesn’t catch up to you first. You can hear him calling you.
“Leibling, wait,” he’s right behind you now, and you hear him almost stumbling as he leans forward to catch you by the wrist.
You shrug him off, but stop at the door to his driver room and push it open, jerking your head to order him inside. He may be a dick, but he still deserve for the whole team to know his business. He steps into the room, reaching for your waist but you move out of his way and leave him to close the door while you lean against the physio table on the other side of the room.
He sighs when he sees how you’re looking at him. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to laugh. I mean, I did. Not at you. I didn’t think Checo was being serious,” he defends, and by the end of his sentence he’s fighting an incredulous smile and you squeeze the edge of the physio bench to stop yourself pulling your hair. Or his.
How can this guy understand complex tyre strategy but not basic human interaction?
“You didn’t think he was serious that I was annoyed by someone flirting with you in front of me?” You ask him, raising an eyebrow. “And that I wouldn’t be annoyed at you making fun of me for it?��
Max scoffs. “She wasn’t flirting with me,”
“Oh, please.” You let out a scoff of your own. “You didn’t notice me flirting with you for three years, do not pretend you’re an expert,”
“I noticed,” Max argues, “I just didn’t take it seriously,”
“Which is why you have no leg to stand on,”
“Right, because I was just supposed to believe that you suddenly-“
“It wasn’t exactly sudden-“
“For God’s sake,” Max groans, an expression of abject confusion twisting his face. “What are we even fighting about?”
“You enjoying Lella Lombardi over there slobber all over you, and enjoying it,” the exasperation gets worse when Max’s eyes widen like this is the first he’s hearing of this entire discussion.
“I’m- she- what?” He splutters, his head shaking in disbelief. “Is this one of those Tiktok pranks?”
“I get that she’s a pilot and that makes her automatically interesting, but until I hear otherwise, you’re still in a relationship,”
Max looks at you like you’ve grown a second head; shock, concern, and a good amount of unadulterated disgust. “You can’t think I was looking at her…like that,”
The way he says it, like he’s afraid to catch cooties, like it’s it’s inconceivable, like you didn’t still have bruises of your hips in the shape of his fingertips, takes all the fight out of you. Checo was right; it’s Max. It’s feels like someone’s let all the air out of a balloon. Your shoulders slump and you sigh.
“Because that would be crazy?” You lift yourself onto the physio bench as you speak. You’re not even really sure what you’re asking. “Max Verstappen, who likes only one thing on earth, that one thing being racing, attracted to another driver rather than his influencer accessory girlfriend?”
“Actually, I like two things,” he says with that boyish smirk that has been making your stomach do backflips for longer than you care to admit.
“Stop laughing at me,” you whine, fighting the urge to smile.
“I’m not. I’m sorry. I’m sorry that she upset you. I’m sorry that I upset you,” he says, taking a careful step closer to you, but he stops there. “Even if I don’t know what I did,”
He really has no idea. He is painfully, adorably clueless.
“Nothing,” you say, because you don’t know either. Sometimes it’s just inexplicably overwhelming being Max Verstappen’s girlfriend. “Just you being you, I guess,”
Max frowns at that. “I didn’t know being myself was so offensive,” he mumbles, and you instantly feel guilty. You of all people shouldn’t make him feel bad for how much space he takes up. You of all people know how much that bothers him.
“No, it’s not that. It’s not-“ you struggle for a way to explain it. Max takes the opportunity to cross the rest of the room and stand in front of you, his expression telling you he’s waiting for you to finish. “It’s not about who you are, but sometimes the way people act around you is just…and you’re so used to it, you don’t even…you just forget who you are sometimes, Max,”
He nods soberly. “Yeah. I do, and I’m sorry,” he says. He hooks his hands under your knees and pulls your legs apart and slots between them as he drags you to the edge of the bench so that you’re pressed against him, leaning back to look up at him. “But I never forget who you are, which is the most important bit,”
You can’t help but smile at him. He’s so simple. And not because he’s unintelligent, but because he’s guileless, because who he is has never scared him. He smiles back, and it’s unguarded and unbridled and you almost forgive that girl because you’ll be damned if you don’t have a crush on him, too.
“Was she really flirting with me?” He asks curiously, looking down as his hands find your and entwine your fingers.
“Oh, yeah,” you say, and he frowns, the wheels working in head as he tries to figure out how he didn’t notice. “Like me at your mum’s on Christmas Eve in 2020 level of obvious,”
“Well,” he says with a huff. “She just blew her chance at a test,”
“You don’t have to-“
“Wait, you were flirting with me at Christmas at my mum’s?”
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artoodeetootired · 9 hours
Text
dress
she’s been his best friend since they were pre-teens; he was a rebellious, unrelenting, and aspiring racer, while she was a witty, energetic, and hopeful journalist. but after all these years, she can’t help but question whether they could be more- despite the challenges that come with her feelings.
op!81 x fem!journalist, best friends to lovers (smau)
🥀 “say my name n everythin just stops. i don’t want u like a best friend. only bought this dress so u could take it off…” 🥀
ty for the love on my first smau ! here’s the next per the last poll’s fav choice :) warning: lots & lots of typos/underlying delulu cringe
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ynuser posted a story 6s
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Liked by landonorris, logansargeant, fbsfuser, and others
Replies
landonorris: solidarity queen ✊🏼
-> ynuser ✊🏼
oscarpiastri: u are actually insane
-> wow this is so nice of you.
-> such a great best friend .
-> an even better journalist.
-> ynuser anything to humble u while i am in this industry 🫶🏻
user: you are UNHINGED
logansargeant: careful yn, your favouritism is showing
-> ynuser: it's part of my contract. im the comedic relief of f1 journalism
-> logansargeant: but doesn't will buxton naturally do that
-> ynuser: now THIS convo could get me fired. shoo logan.
-> logansargeant LOLL
mclaren: just 'cause we love you, we'll let this slide
-> ynuser: 🫶🏻😸
fbsfuser: send my fuck you's to them both :D
-> ynuser: already on it 🫡
iMessages
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oscarpiastri
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Tagged: landonorris, mclaren, ynuser
oscarpiastri great start to the season @mclaren 💪🏼
the same can't be said about a particular someone tho... betting someone should get fired.
📸: @ynuser
Liked by mclaren, landonorris, ynuser, and 609,993 others
View all 21,008 comments
landonorris i dont support bullying, but exceptions can be made if it's towards you
ynuser if karma doesn't get u first then either stroll or i will
-> user oh my GOD 💀
-> user shots fired LMAOOOO
-> oscarpiastri i'd rather karma than u and...
mclaren and we thought lando was our only pr liability
-> landonorris wait WHAT
-> oscarpiastri that's a bit too insulting towards me
-> ynuser this doesnt include me.... right?
fbsfuser boy if you don't take this down...
logansargeant oscar is this meant to be retribution for her story earlier?
-> oscarpiastri so what?
-> landonorris that's kinda overdramatic compared to what she posted wow
ynuser i would also like to say that this stanky man tried to go out for dinner right after his race 🤢
-> georgerussell scandalous 😨
-> carlossainz55 not very smooth of you oscar
-> alexalbon not smooth.
-> danielricciardo not smooth.
-> charlesleclerc not smooth.
-> maxverstappen1 not smooth.
-> fbsfuser i think, and hear me out, maybe you're in the wrong here oscar
-> ynuser and this is why we were both wearing masks on track
-> oscarpiastri too far. you've gone TOO far.
Instagram: 10/03-21/03
ynuser posted a story 10s
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Liked by yukitsunoda0511, landonorris, georgerussell, and others
Replies
yukitsunoday0511: i will get you back one day.
-> ynuser: ngaww 😹
oscarpiastri: u are tho
-> ynuser: ik
->oscarpiastri: wait. are you?
danielricciardo: mind giving me an extra mic so i can do this when youre not with us?
-> ynuser check ur driver's room ;)
landonorris: how did he know 😨
-> ynuser: we been knew lan
oscarpiastri posted a story 7s
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ynuser: there's no way you pulled out a photo from when we were 13.
-> oscarpiastri: full on war. what are you gonna do about it?
-> ynuser: watch me
landonorris: u have to give this pic to me.
-> oscarpiastri: LMAO ty for joining my side
-> landonorris: no no, don't be mistaken. im against both of you.
-> oscarpiastri: mate what?
carlossainz55: u guys should just kiss already
-> oscarpiastri: carlos NO
mclaren: you're really trying to blackmail a journalist who has resources at her disposal? 😮
-> oscarpiastri: ...yes...
ynuser posted a story 3s
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Liked by maxverstappen1, pierregasly, alexalbon, and others
Replies
alexalbon: congrats on winning soldier
-> ynuser ✊🏼
oscarpiastri: HOW DO U HAVE THESE PHOTOS ALREADY
-> ynuser: i like how u still underestimate my job then suffer because of it :)
pierregasly: these go hard 🔥
landonorris: well at least it's not as embarrassing for me. but a HEADS UP WOULDVE BEEN NICE
-> ynuser: bro dont even try ik you've been saving bad pics of me from oscar -.-
mclaren: we hope u enjoyed the pics!
-> ynuser: i owe u guys one fr 🙏🏼
Round 3 (22/03-24/03): Australia
ynuser
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Tagged: f1
ynuser round 3 in australia!!!! 🇦🇺🦘❤️ amazing to be back on home base, and even better to see danny ric and pastry fight it out for the podium! (actual, professional, and correct news coming from me on @f1 tv 🫡)
ossie ossie ossie! oi oi oi! get it? 'cause ossie is like aussie and... okay. i'll stop.
Liked by mclaren, fbsfuser, danielricciardo, and 611,805 others
View all 21,008 comments
mclaren ty for providing us with baby pastry pics 🫡
-> ynuser pleasure doing business with u 🫡🫡
-> oscarpiastri excuse ME
oscarpiastri haha. so funny. at least u have stand up comedy since journalism may not work out :)
-> ynuser so you admit im funny 😸
-> oscarpiastri don't flatter urself.
-> landonorris nah mate, that sounded like defeat
f1 this commentary is fine 👍🏻
-> user LMAOOOO
user danny ric placing in his home base is such a dream come true 😭
-> user yeah im glad it isnt just a dream anymore
user cutiessssss
-> user them driving around the circuit in a golf cart must've been chaotic
-> logansargeant u have no idea...
user she's hilarious ilysm
-> fbsfuser back off fam she's mine ✋🏼
-> user i need to know how she this job cause it is THE dream fr
-> fbsfuser yeah it really is a wonder given how many lectures she slept thru...
-> ynuser OI
danielricciardo 🫶🏻
-> user CONGRATS HONEY BADGER!!!
user can oscar fight???
-> user girl what are u talking about they aint tgt
-> user they aren't???
-> user no bruh theyre just besties
user watch me at the next race rizzin her up
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landonorris: yn
-> yn
-> yn
-> yn
ynuser: bruh WHAT
landonorris: it's important
ynuser: lando i don't have time to answer whether a new pair of pants make u look flat
-> go ask osc
landonorris: ok first of all: a good pair makes a huge difference.
-> and second, it's about osc
ynuser: did smth happen to him?????
landonorris: no, sorry
-> shouldn't have led with that
-> i sent u a post on twitter
-> but just, read carefully k?
Twitter
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Instagram Messages
ynuser: oh
landonorris: u see it?
ynuser: yeah
landonorris: are u okay?
ynuser: yeah im just surprised
landonorris: so you didn't know about it either?
ynuser: obviously not
landnorris: im sorry yn :(
ynuser: why? it's not like he owes me anything lol
-> im happy he started dating again in fact
-> was getting worried lol
landonorris: u sure u good?
-> doesn't really sound like u are
ynuser: im fine
-> plus i need to stay professional. i still have a job and there are crazy fans and all
-> thanks anyways lan
landonorris: alright, im here to talk if u need
-> so is the rest of the grid tbh
❤️ Liked by ynuser
iMessage
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Instagram: 03/04
ynuser
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Tagged: urmumuser
ynuser a little break back home with the parents doesn't hurt 🌊
@f1's the best for letting me regenerate lost brain cells <3
Liked by f1, fbsfuser, racerbia, and 702,009 others
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f1 we got ur back queen ✊🏼
-> user in the middle of all the drama, this could mean so many things...
-> user well im gonna take it as them sayin that theyre on the right ship :)
user ngl guys the distance rn is probably 'cause yn and osc so close, especially with osc dating brianna, like she probably did it out of respect for them. no one wants to be 'the girl he told me not to worry about' yk.
-> user allegedly dating*
-> user allegedly dating*
user omg the parallelism with the surfboards 😭
-> user we've truly reached peak delulu i love it
landonorris enjoy ur break from a grid of shitheads 💪🏼
-> carlossainz55 speak for urself
wbuxtonofficial how am i going to handle them without you 0.0
-> ynuser well, not to state the obvious, but drivers are just... humans.
-> georgerussell hilarious
racerbia gorgeous girl 🧡
fbsfuser take me with u 😔
Round 4 (05/04-07/04): Japan
mclaren
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Tagged: oscarpiastri, landonorris, vindiesel, and mrodofficial
mclaren A little surprise for our papaya boys as they come back from their Friday practices! 🤫 Here's to hoping we go fast and furious in the land of sakura 🌸
Liked by f1, ynuser, racerbia, and 851,092 others
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user the lack of yn's interactions with the whole grid is actually making me glitch throughout this weekend. and it's only friday 💀💀
user omggggg van diesel and michelle rod!!!!!!
user they really be spoiling osc lolll
user it's so weird to see an interview without yn
iMessages
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Instagram
mclaren
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Tagged: oscarpiastri
mclaren H A P P Y B I R T H D A Y @oscarpiastri!
Our baby driver is 23 today, here in Japan! Drive well, birthday boy! 😎🌸
Liked by f1, fbsfuser, racerbia, and 905,874 others
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user happy birthday ossie!!!
landonorris: our baby is growing up so fast
-> f1 we must shrink him.
user wow she must be pissed if she took her first annual leave during this totally coincidental time
-> user fr sis is fooling no one.
-> user this feels like such a bad omen omg 😭
-> user guys maybe our bestie yn just really needed a break... haha...
briannawood_ happy birthday osc ❤️
-> user oh my god
-> user she actually exists
-> user girl what are you doing here
-> user ayo???
alexalbon happy birthday!!!!!!!!!!!
lilyhme HAPPY BIRTHDAY OSC
fbsfuer hbd
-> user oh-
ynuser
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Tagged: oscarpiastri
ynuser to the one who vexes me, encourages me, n supports me sm, happy 23rd birthday. i've known you since your rebellious days, trying to prove to the rest of the world how your dream was worth fulfilling, and i'm grateful to have been with you to this very stage of your life. from re-watching cars and fast n furious for over a decade, to re-watching ur races and my interviews, know that i'll always be there, on or off track, no matter what. to the bane of my existence, from ur twin devil x
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user oh im gonna be sick is she the one who told f1 to invite vin diesel and michelle rod 😭💔
-> user u are spitting facts but in this case facts should not be facting because this is actually making me hyperventilate by all the drama rn
user no im sorry but why does this sound more like a goodbye than a hbd note
user yn trying to prove that she's actually a great write when she wants to be
-> user and SHE IS 😭😭😭
user the way she doesn't sound like herself AT ALL wtf is going on
user this sounds like a very strange way of resigning 💀
-> user YOU TAKE BACK WHAT U SAID RN
Comments on this post have been limited.
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Round 5 (19/04-21/04): China
ynuser
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Tagged: f1
ynuser im back 😈 lovely weather here in china as we start round 5's quali day!! let's get back to it 💪🏼
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f1 she's back!
user oh my god i thought we were never gonna see her ever again
lewishamilton missed our fav presenter
-> georgerussell frfr!!
-> mclaren actually ☝🏼 she was and will always be OUR fav
fsfbuser welcome back gorgeous <3
user well... the good news is that she sounds normal again
-> user nah bruh im right here in the paddock and she looks nervous/twitchy af
user the besties obvie haven't made up yet 😪
-> user or maybe they never will...
oscarpiastri come on back over to our pit, you left before i finished changing ?
-> user oH WTF
-> user this shit is actually going to be the death of me
-> landonorris i thought we agreed that i'd call her? 🤨
-> charlesleclerc hush for a little while she's over at ours rn
-> user this is too funny
-> user is this a pr trick or some shit 'cause IT'S NOT FUNNY ANYMORE
Twitter
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Instagram
oscarpiastri
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Tagged: ynuser
oscarpiastri you are never escaping me ever again.
(forgive my impulsive actions tonight everyone, i swear im only ever like this around her)
Liked by landonorris, fbsfuser, ynuser, and 1,397,819 others
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francisca.cgomes SHUT THE FRONT DOOR. FINALLY.
-> lilymhe I KNOW RIGHT
-> pierregasly oscar can be so oblivious sometimes...
-> fbsfuser boy he was blind, deaf, and dumb for as long as i've known them. like pick a struggle??
-> landonorris i second this
logansargeant kinda giving serial killer vibes but u two are cute enough to forgive that
-> ynuser 🤪
-> maxverstappen1 i can finally go back to the garage in peace without u following me to talk my ear off
-> oscarpiastri u knew this whole time??
user i am going insane.
-> user maybe i hit the blunt too good this time...
-> user @landonorris and @fbsfuser u guys are the gods of all wingmen.
user oh thank god he wasn't actually dating brianna
-> user our queen and king can come back stronger and better now 😩
user your honour, nvm, my parents just got back tgt :D
ynuser 10 years, both of us having a nasty high school relationship each, and a rumour bomb that exploded from underneath me... i think i have every right to try and escape again.
-> oscarpiastri this was not funny when u first said it, and it will never be.
-> logansargeant ok but it kind of is
user my fav writer inspo is now my fav driver's wag MY HEART
landonorris thank god i dont need to listen to the both of you whining anymore
-> ynuser who said we're stopping 🤨
-> oscarpiastri you can't escape me either lando.
-> landonorris this is foul @mclaren i suggest you give me a raise for keeping ur other driver in check
-> f1 haha no.
mclaren thank god we don't have to whisper every time we see something suspicious now
-> redbullracing im ngl, same.
-> astonmartinf1 we once had to watch while they bantered with each other for 10 minutes 🧍🏻‍♀️
-> scuderiaferrari not that it's a competition, but they were always close to pecking each other whenever they were here
-> alexalbon wait why were they even in any of these garages??
-> mclaren ask oscar why he keeps following her...
user that interview was INSANE
-> user i don't think i've ever seen such a surreal confession oml
Twitter
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a/n: lowkey cringey hehe. this was supposed to involve a wedding (for a mclaren engineer not oscyn loll) where they'd all be dressed up (you know... DRESS) but i reached the pics limit 💀 honestly i would've written this out as a one shot or smth but once i start i will never stop... and i have my ibdp math final 😭
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bestworstcase · 22 hours
Text
option 1: tai’s guarding the crown of choice.
pros:
a legitimately important task that recontextualizes his ongoing decision to remain on patch as a personal sacrifice he makes for the greater good.
ozpin would pick the guy named for the god of light to be the gatekeeper of choice, huh.
if any parent in this story is meant to die, it’s him, and narratively this is the most intuitive way to do it.
cons:
realistically, what can tai do to prevent salem / cinder / summer from accessing the vault if they find it? if he’s the gatekeeper, staying on patch alone after everyone else evacuates achieves nothing except, ah, signaling to the enemy that the real vault is under signal academy. bad plan.
it means oz is breaking his promise to be honest and forthcoming, undermining his character growth for the sake of ‘surprising’ the audience with the most obvious answer.
means qrow has either been kept in the dark (see prev point) or he’s also deliberately hiding this information from his nieces after they asked him outright if he knew where tai is; this is so far afield for his character as to border on character assassination, and likewise undermines his positive growth since v7.
honestly makes both yang and ruby seem kind of stupid. they know the crown is hidden somewhere near beacon, that ozpin did something to protect it differently from the others, and that their father hasn’t left patch. ruby was sharp enough to guess that long memory might be a relic hidden in plain sight; yang is just as smart, and she knows tai had “some things” to look after on patch. are we expected to believe that “hey, is dad guarding the relic?” somehow hasn’t occurred to either of them?
tai harbors a whole lot of resentment toward ozpin, and based on qrow kicking him out of ruby’s bedroom to drip-feed her hints on where to go next, he seems to have been on the outer perimeter of the inner circle. why would oz entrust him with the relic’s safety?
glynda—ozpin’s scrupulously loyal second-in-command whose emblem is a crown and whose semblance puts her on par with a maiden—is a far more narratively plausible vault-guardian than tai, and the “sun dragon” makes a damn good red herring.
if he’s guarding the vault, he dies. sorry. but the point of putting the father of 2/4 protagonists in between the two main villains and the thing they want most (choice) is so they can kill him to get it, increasing tension and raising the emotional stakes of negotiating peace. to be clear, rwby is willing to Go There, but i think it’s an unsatisfactory way to close out the rose xiao long family arc.
option 2: survivors trapped under mountain glenn, and tai is taking point.
pros:
a genuinely important, worthwhile thing for him to be doing—even more so than guarding the crown. likely sets up a resolution for him in the vein of “you can be a good huntsman or a good father, and tai picked being a huntsman,” which is an elegant way to balance his contradictions.
gives him meaningful stuff to do in v10; for example, one stealthy huntsman with a bullhead could slip in and out of mountain glenn to get a few dozen people out at a time, and/or run supplies and messages between the kingdoms.
we get to see zwei back in action around mountain glenn :)
introduces a natural segue from playing defense in vacuo to mounting a counteroffensive against beacon as tai’s work clarifies the situation in vale.
easily the most 'heroic' direction for him without contorting the story to arbitrarily lionize tai: he’s a scout preparing the stage for the heroes to take the fight to salem, making him the good counterpart to watts.
cons:
makes no sense to keep it a secret. the emotional beats of B4 can still happen if the girls know this is what tai’s doing: instead of “do you… wonder why he’s not here? i know qrow said he’s on assignment, but what’s more important than here?” yang says “do you… wish he were here? with us? i know qrow said he’s looking for survivors, but how many of them can there really be by now? we need all the help we can get,” and ruby says “maybe we don’t have the full picture” as in maybe dad knows something we don’t and that’s why he hasn’t given up yet. the emotion is the same, and the big "they’re hiding in mountain glenn" reveal is hinted without spoiling.
leaves hanging the narrative thread of what tai has been doing since the fall of beacon, because the “some things” he was dealing with in v4 obviously wasn’t this.
option 3: tai is dead.
pros:
explains the apparent secrecy; qrow knows tai was away “on assignment” (i.e., had taken a huntsman contract that brought him out of the kingdom) at the time salem attacked vale, so he is missing but not yet presumed dead.
might reopen the mystery box of summer’s last mission through the real-deal “left on a mission and never came back” echo.
cons:
raven would know.
it’s a cheap, narratively unsatisfying twist that fails to deliver on the bread crumbs set up in v2-3 (tai starts going on missions again) and v4 (“some things”), and also undermines any serious emotional resolution with regard to yang and ruby’s complex relationships with tai.
option 4: summer’s working with salem, and tai is trying to convince her to come back.
pros:
“some things” being his presumed-dead wife who left him to join the enemy and with whom tai is now having an affair or otherwise hoping to coax back to the heroic side through the power of love whilst also keeping his mouth shut about her being a) still alive and b) a traitor is OBJECTIVELY the funniest answer.
brings forward and interrogates the way tai’s romantic grief informs the choices he makes as a parent: from hiding raven and then refusing to talk about her with yang, to shutting down when he lost summer and letting his five-year-old pick up the pieces, to discovering and then keeping summer’s secrets for the sake of some faint hope that she might finally come back to him.
cogent with the Dead (Absent) Mother / Neglectful Father / Evil Stepmother fairytale paradigm rwby deconstructs with raven, tai, and summer; the father chooses the stepmother over his children.
raises the emotional stakes of the war for summer through direct confrontation with the life she left behind, creating narrative opportunities to develop her character (is she still in love with tai? how does she feel about being his first priority, over their children? does she resent that he has her on this pedestal even now?) and apply pressure to her relationships with salem and cinder (do they know? is summer keeping her communication with him a secret, too? or is he an “asset” she’s using for salem’s benefit?).
consequently, raises the momentum of the narrative toward negotiation with salem; tai still has the coalition’s trust, however strained his personal relationships may be. summer is the obvious ambassador for salem’s side of the war, but she’s also the traitor who needs someone to vouch for her good intentions.
the secrecy needs no explanation: just as summer’s last mission was a summer secret, tai’s "assignment" is a taiyang secret and the girls know everything that oz and qrow do, because all of them have been left in the dark. raven might know, and she has the means to find if she doesn’t, but tai’s whereabouts are entangled with what raven knows about summer, so she can’t explain where tai is or why until she reveals her deep dark secrets about what happened between her and summer that night.
foreshadowing is solid: tai starts to go on "missions" again in v2, after the inner circle becomes aware that salem has infiltrated beacon and just before the breach downtown. when ruby visits summer’s grave in v3, she says "[dad] told me he’s going to be on some mission soon! i think he misses adventuring with you." he’s got to "look after some things" (but he isn’t talking about yang, because he stays home after she leaves). and then with B4 we have ruby echoing what the blacksmith taught her about summer in relation to tai, "maybe we don’t have the full picture?"
juicy
cons:
???
dependent on the unconfirmed theory that summer is working for salem as herself, not some unrecognizable enslaved monster, but i am as confident in that as i was about salem going to vale next and we all know how that turned out :)
taking their mom was not enough salem had to go for the full set APPARENTLY
option 5: secret fifth thing
pros:
???
cons:
???
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celestialglow24 · 1 day
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••• Sharing the Bed•••
Frank Castle x AFAB Reader
Reader is wondering how things will be with Frank now after asking him to be her fake boyfriend at her sister’s wedding.
3.9k words
Inspired by the faking dating prompts from @thelonelyempath https://www.tumblr.com/thelonelyempath/705043295893618688/fake-dating-prompts?source=share
Using prompt #25 “I kinda liked sharing the bed with you”
I’ve had such a writing bug lately and im taking advantage of it while i’ve got it! Enjoy xxx
You were nervous to see him again.
It had been a couple weeks since you’d convinced Frank to be your fake boyfriend for your sister’s wedding.
You had panicked when your mom called you at work, saying you had pushed it off long enough and she needed an answer right now if you were bringing a plus one or not.
You almost said no, but after she made a snide comment about already knowing the answer—she was just asking as a courtesy to your sister—you cracked and told her you’d been seeing someone for months now.
When she asked who, your eyes had landed on one of the few patrons left at the bar that night.
Frank Castle.
Surprisingly he agreed to go. It was probably the desperation in your voice and the pleading of your eyes—you didn’t have time to think about how pathetic you felt—but you were thankful nonetheless.
It’s been 14 days since you got back and you haven’t seen him since. Not that you were counting the days or anything.
No texts.
No phone calls.
Just silence.
Normally you wouldn’t think much of it. Even though Frank had become a regular at the bar and restaurant you worked at, he’d disappear for days and weeks at a time.
You’d try and make small talk when he came back. Hoping to get any kind of inclination as to what Frank Castle got up to in his spare time.
He was still such a mystery to you. A very attractive mystery at that. One that you were determined to figure out.
However, as much as you tried, you never got the answer you were searching for.
It was always “business” or “nothing you’d find interesting, sweetheart”.
You never really gave it much thought when he offered those responses, you just accepted that Frank was not an open book. He was a locked book. One kept on the highest shelf that you’d probably never be able to reach.
And yet despite knowing all this you couldn’t help but wonder if your time away together had anything to do with his sudden absence.
You worried things would get awkward. Especially after having to share a bed together. He offered to sleep on the floor but you shot that down quick.
Not only would you feel enormously guilty having him sleep on the hardwood floor—he complained about his back a lot—but you were worried someone might walk in and your fake dating charade would unravel.
The silent crush you’d been harboring had only gotten louder after several days with Frank. Having to hold hands, talk sweetly to each other and even slow dance at the wedding had your mind all in a haze.
What was real and what wasn’t?
Did he feel anything? Or was he just a really good actor?
It was driving you crazy.
One thing was for certain, your family adored him. Especially your equally intimidating, hard-to-please father.
In fact, your dad liked him so much he invited him to go hunting in a few months.
It had taken years before he even extended an invite like that to your sister’s now husband.
You had to bite your lip to keep from laughing when you watched the way his eyes had widened and mouth parted when Frank agreed to go—your sister offering a reassuring pat to his arm.
You figured it had something to do with the fact they were both veterans. Your dad took an instant liking to anyone who could relate to the struggle and strength it took to serve in the military.
And your mother. The way she fawned over everything Frank said and did. His manners, how he consistently answered with “yes, ma’am” and “no, ma’am”.
She just about fell over when she came into the kitchen one morning to find he had managed to fix that pesky dishwasher that had been giving her trouble for months.
You smiled at the memory, but it disappeared as quickly as it came. Another thought had overshadowed it. One that caused a sudden pit to form in your stomach. How were you going to break the news to your family that things with Frank weren’t working out?
The plan was to give it a few weeks and then call to let them know you’d decided to take some time apart. You were both realizing you needed different things, but you would remain friends.
It sounded reasonable, but now? You didn’t think you could handle their disappointment.
You’d never seen them so proud of you. So happy for you. Pleasing your parents always felt like an impossible task. The closer you got there was always some dip in the road that caused that approval to move further and further away.
You finally bring someone home that they approved of only to rip the hope away from them. You were sure they’d find some way to blame it all on you.
You were starting to remember what it felt like when you told them you wouldn’t be going to college.
It didn’t matter that you were excellent at your job, managing both the bar and the restaurant on your own. It didn’t matter that you were able to make more than enough money to support yourself. And it certainly didn’t matter that you had helped exceed the profit goals of each quarter since you started.
It didn’t matter that you had been busting your ass to save back money to buy the place for yourself when the owner retired soon.
It only mattered that you didn’t have a “career” or a family to call your own.
Frank had picked up on the tension pretty early on. He did his best to talk you up. You found it sweet. Endearing even.
One night, while the two of you were dancing to some slow, sappy song your sister picked out, Frank called you out on your off demeanor.
You were surprised he noticed, you thought you had mastered the art of appearing fine when deep down you really weren’t.
“What’s on your mind, sweetheart?” he spoke lowly in your ear. One of his hands rested on the small of your back while the other held your hand close to his chest. His thumb ran back and forth along your hand and you tried to ignore the swarm of butterflies wreaking havoc on your stomach.
“I’m wondering how Uncle Steven has managed to go this long without throwing up. I thought for sure the cupid shuffle would’ve done it.”
Frank turned to look in the direction you were staring. Your Uncle Steven was somehow still performing the steps to the dance from 3 songs ago. Frank lightly chuckled as he watched Steven spill some of his beer on the couple next to him.
Though he couldn’t deny he was also wondering how the old man hadn’t crashed yet, he knew that’s not what you were really thinking about.
You were trying to deflect.
He was starting to learn just how stubborn you could be, but unlucky for you, Frank wasn’t gonna let you off the hook that easily.
“Nah that ain’t it.” he shook his head. “I can tell there’s a lot more going on behind those eyes.”
You were slightly relieved the lights were dim in the reception so he couldn’t see the deep blush heating up your face. You weren’t good at making eye contact with people you were crushing on.
“I think you’re imagining things.” you replied avoiding his gaze. “I’m just tired, I think this week is finally catching up to me.”
“Hm.” Frank hummed.
“What?”
“I think we’re about to have our first fight.”
You scoffed, ”Oh yeah? and what’s this ‘first fight’ gonna be about?”
“How you’re lying to your boyfriend.” he replied, speaking low into your ear again. It shouldn’t have caused the hairs on your neck to stand up but it certainly did.
“Look, you listen to assholes mope and complain all day long about their sad fucked up lives. I think it’s only fair to return the favor.” he shrugged. “So tonight i’ll do your job and you can let it all out right now. Minus the crude comments and shitty tips.”
You were about to laugh and lightly shove Frank for messing with you, but the look on his face made you pause.
He was being serious.
“Is it your folks?” he asked. “I saw your face when your dad gave that speech. That smile you were forcin’, it didn’t reach your eyes.”
You bit your lip and lowered your stare to the dress shirt he was wearing, playing nervously with one of the buttons to avoid looking up at him.
“That obvious huh?” you laughed sadly.
Frank felt bad as he watched the hurt wash over your features. He knew all too well the overwhelming pressure to please one’s family. He grew up with an overbearing father who never thought he’d amount to anything.
He knew how much that disappointment could eat you alive.
“It’s just, no matter what I do. I know my dad will never speak about me the way he does my sister. She’s an ivy league graduate who just got into med school. She’s married now, moving to a new city and probably going to be popping out kids before the end of next year. and me? In his eyes I'm just a bartender in a small town with no ambitious goal in sight.”
Frank nodded in understanding. He could see from the outside how the comparison could make you feel that way.
“Are you happy?”
You thought about it for a second. Even though the job had its ups and downs—managing a restaurant and a busy bar was no easy feat—you could honestly say you enjoyed what you did.
You got to know a lot of the locals well and it always made you feel good to know that you’d helped make their day or night a little better.
You loved the house you recently bought. It was a bit of a fixer upper but it was yours.
You loved how independent you were. How you could come home after a long day and you didn’t have to cook for a litter of kids.
It was just your dog, cat and you.
“Honestly? Yeah, I think I am.”
“Then fuck em.” he shrugged.
“Frank I-”
“Nah, nah.” he cut you off. “I know that’s your family but that don’t mean they’re always right. If you like what you do and you’re happy then who gives a shit what anyone else thinks.”
You processed Frank’s words and while you knew he was probably right, it didn’t mean it was easy to just tune out your parents’ criticism.
Frank seemed to know what you weren’t saying out loud because he followed it up with something that made your heart swell.
“All i’m saying is if they can look at you and what you’re doing and feel anything but proud there’s something wrong with ‘em. Not you.”
You could’ve kissed him right there but the song had ended and couples were clearing the dance floor.
Instead you walked back to the table with Frank, your arm looped through his.
You couldn’t help but think about how this man was screwing with your heart and your head and he didn’t even know it.
That much was still true all these days later. At this point you were dying for him to show up again.
Even if he didn’t talk to you, you’d at least know he wasn’t avoiding this whole place because of you.
The night was winding down, the 2 am crowd had begun to disperse and your eyes were fighting hard to stay awake. You’d chosen to work a double today, one of the other bartenders had a family emergency.
In your 20s you could work shifts like this and bounce right back the next day but now? In your 30s you were lucky if you managed to wake up without an achy back and sore feet.
“Phil, I'm gonna run the last of the trash out and then I'm heading home. I left the keys to lock up in the front drawer.” you shouted to the line cook in the back.
You could see him mopping up the kitchen floor so you knew he wouldn’t be too far behind you.
“You sure you don’t want me to go with ya this time?” he shouted back, “I’d hate for a creepy critter to make you run like you’d seen a ghost again.”
You rolled your eyes as Phil roared with laughter. Referencing the one time a little group of racoons had taken up residence inside the restaurant dumpster and sent you running like Freddy Krueger himself was chasing you.
“I think i’ll manage this time Phil, thanks for looking out.” you replied playfully.
You picked up the large trash bags and backed into the front door to head out. It was really inconvenient but they recently had moved the trash compactor across the street.
Not only was it annoying during the day when the streets were busy but it was extra spooky at night.
Once you were out of the door you turned around only to gasp and drop the trash bags you were holding.
“Jesus, Frank.” you cried, “What the hell were you trying to do, give me a fucking heart attack?”
You were too distracted by the adrenaline coursing through your veins to realize the man you’d been waiting to see for the last two weeks was finally standing in front of you.
“My bad, sweetheart. Didn’t mean to sneak up on you like that. I tried to go by your place and you weren’t there so I figured you might be here.”
You blew out a puff of hair and a couple pieces of your hair went flying.
“You were looking for me?”
“Yeah, sorry I know it’s late. I wanted to make sure you got this back. Somehow I think it got mixed up in my things.”
Frank pulled out a pink phone charger from his jacket pocket and extended it out to you.
You had a million of these things scattered around your house so you honestly hadn’t noticed it was missing. It was sweet of him to bring it back to you though.
“Oh Frank, you didn’t have to worry about that.” you replied, walking forward to retrieve it. “But thank you”.
You beamed a genuine smile at Frank while holding up the charger in your hand and he thought his heart had grown 2 sizes. Just like the Grinch his kids used to watch.
There was something about your smile that always stopped him in his tracks. He would never get tired of seeing it.
“Nah it’s nothin’.” he shrugged. “May I?”
He gestured toward the garbage bags sitting on the ground and bent over to pick them up.
“You don’t have to!” you tried to stop him, but subconsciously you knew it would be pointless.
Frank was always a gentleman and while he knew you would have no trouble carrying them on your own, he wouldn’t feel right not offering a hand.
“Can I atleast carry one of them?” you asked sweetly.
There was that damn smile again. How could he say no?
The two of you walked in silence for a bit, it wasn’t awkward but it was clear you were both trying to think of what to say next.
How do two people that recently spent a week pretending to be a couple go back to normal?
You decided to break the silence as the two of you walked back toward the bar.
“I, um, never got to properly thank you for helping with my family. I know it was probably a bit weird but it meant more to me than you could ever know. I think my parents would’ve had us get married that same night if it were up to them.” you laughed, playing nervously with your hands.
“Is that right?” Franked looked down at you with an amused expression.
“God, yes. I think you’re probably gonna be the only guy I bring home that they will ever like. I actually feel bad for the next guy that has to live up to the great Frank Castle.” you nudged him as you walked and he let out the most glorious laugh you’d ever heard.
You wanted to hear that more.
“Well if i’m the measuring stick for all the future men in your life then it’s your parents I feel sorry for.”
“Hey!” you exclaimed, playfully swatting his shoulder, “What do you mean by ‘all the future men in your life’? You think I still got a revolving door of men to get through before I finally settle down?”
It was meant to be playful banter, but there was a look that settled in Frank’s eyes and the mood suddenly got a bit more serious.
“I sure hope not.”
You weren’t sure how to take his comment. Maybe you were over analyzing but there was a part of you that was hoping he said that because he wanted you.
Wishful thinking of course.
You cleared your throat to help ease the tension.
“So, you just get back from whatever mystery place you squandered off to?”
“Just taking care of some business, sweetheart.”
That famous phrase again. You simply nodded. Accepting once again that you would probably not get any further information than that.
“But you know it’s funny.” he smiled, shoving his hands in his pockets. “There I was, lying in bed in some run down roach motel off the highway, having a hell of time trying to fall asleep each night.
“It coulda been the state of the motel—that place was a real shitbox—but the more I laid there, the more I realized it felt like I was missing something.”
Frank started fidgeting a bit. Almost like he was nervous or something. It was strange. You didn't think a guy like him got nervous.
“I realized, I kinda liked sharing the bed with you.”
Your heart started hammering away in your chest. Did you hear him right? Frank Castle liked sharing a bed with you? So much so that it was keeping him up at night?
You had to be dreaming.
“Really?”
You tried to act nonchalant but the word came out all high and squeaky. You don’t think Frank noticed though.
“Yeah, believe it or not I’d gotten so used to having no covers at night, I just tossed the damn thing on the ground.”
You gasped and punched his shoulder slightly. “Hey, I warned you I would probably take all the blankets. You coulda pulled them right back.”
Frank laughed again.
“Nah, you were too cute wrapped up like a burrito. Besides, I was more worried if I tried you’d whack my head or kick my nuts. You sure do move around a lot in your sleep.”
You feigned hurt, placing a hand to your chest.
“And just why do you miss sharing a bed with me so much? It doesn't sound so pleasant based on what you’re saying.”
Frank looked off and smiled. “I don’t know.”
A comfortable silence fell between the two of you.
“Look, uh, I’m not really good at this. I’ve been out of the game for a long time so you’ll have to forgive me but-”
“Frank Castle.” you cut him off.
“Yeah?”
“Are you about to ask if you can sleep in my bed tonight?”
Frank’s eyebrows shot up and a panicked sort of look took residence on his face. “Shit, no I didn’t mean it like that. I was just-”
He stopped when he saw you throw your head back in laughter.
“What?” he asked, trying to fight off the smile that was beginning to form on his own face. Your laugh was just too damn contagious.
“I’m sorry,” you said between breaths,”You shoulda seen your face. I was just messing with you Frank.”
“Oh yeah?” he laughed, poking your side. “You think that shit was funny huh?”
Suddenly you felt yourself being lifted off the ground and over Frank’s shoulder. “I can be real fucking hilarious. How about I carry you home just like this?”
“Frank!” you screamed playfully, swatting at his back. “Put me down you asshole!”
“No, I think I like this view better.”
You continued to hit his back and laugh. You were just about to come back with your own smart comment when you heard a car pull up beside you.
“Is everything alright here?”
You turned to look, adjusting your hair so it was out of your face. It was an officer staring at you both with a confused expression.
You could’ve sworn you heard Frank growl a little bit.
“Uh we’re good officer!” you smiled, giving him a thumbs up.
“She had a bit too much to drink tonight. Tried to drive home. Just makin sure she gets home safe. She’s a stubborn thing.” Frank spoke up, making sure to pat your ass for dramatic effect.
The officer seemed to buy this story.
“Well miss, you got a good man there. You should probably listen to him more often.” he replied before rolling up the window.
You gasped and Frank roared with laughter.
“Thanks officer!” he shouted as the man drove away.
You poked his side hard and he finally released you, setting you down in front of him. Your faces were real close together now, and the smiles you both had slowly fell.
There was a quiet moment before you quickly leaned in and kissed Frank. He seemed surprised at first but thankfully responded and pulled you in tighter.
His hands roamed your body while yours held his face.
You pulled away gently, and he rested his forehead on yours.
“You know, I thought you’d been avoiding me.” you said quietly.
“Yeah?” he replied, moving a piece of hair behind your ear.
“I know you disappear sometimes but I thought this time was gonna be different.”
Frank nodded, running his hands down your shoulders before grabbing both of your hands in his own.
“You know, I got a confession.” he said quietly, “I swiped that phone charger before we left.”
You leaned back and looked up at him.
“What?”
He let out a soft chuckle. “I know it’s stupid but I wanted an excuse to see you again. Like I said, it's been a while since I’ve done anything like this and I didn’t think I could just approach you in the bar like before.”
“It’s not stupid.” you smiled, squeezing his hands. “It’s sweet.”
“So i’m sweet now? Just a second ago I was a asshole.”
“Both can be true.” you shrugged.
He scoffed. “Come here.”
Frank pulled you into him and you wrapped your arms around his waist. He placed a kiss on your head and it suddenly felt like it did when you were with your parents.
It just felt natural.
“Let me take you out.” he said, pulling back and tilting your chin up at him. “On a real date.”
You bit your lip and smiled, “I’d like that.”
“Good.” he replied before kissing you again.
“Now let’s go before that cop comes back around and you gotta act drunk for him.”
You rolled your eyes, “Whatever you say, Frank. I gotta listen to you more right?”
“Attagirl.” he smiled, before putting his arm around your shoulder.
74 notes · View notes
hannie-dul-set · 2 days
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STAR STUDDED BAGGAGE [3].
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SYNOPSIS. the saying “never meet your idols” exists for a reason. you just didn’t expect the reason to be because said idols would end up declaring that you’re their alleged lover from a past life (past lives, rather). now you have three big celebrities vying for your attention, and it’s not as dreamlike as you imagined it to be.
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PAIRINGS. choi yeonjun, choi soobin, choi beomgyu x female! reader. GENRES. reincarnation! au, celebrity! au (soloist! yeonjun, actor! soobin, rock band member! beomgyu), slight college! au, slight historical! au, rom-com, angst, reverse harem woohoo. WARNINGS. swearing, talks about stalking, talks about death, data privacy violations, so much emotional whiplash yummy, a very long conversation, google dependent historical information. WORD COUNT. 6.3k.
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NOTE. this chapter finally made its way out hell 😭😭😭 per usual, please let me know your thoughts on the chapter! a single comment on ao3 inspired me to finish this, so ur feedback really means a lot! enjoy<3
MASTERLIST | NEXT >
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CHAPTER 3 — can we go back to being parasocial?
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IF SOMEONE HEARS YOUR SUMMARY OF THE EVENTS THAT UNFOLDED WITHIN THE PAST FEW DAYS, they may accuse you of lying. Delusional, even. You’d think the same had you not been the center of it all— yet the proof is in your pockets. Your phone. In the album Choi Yeonjun failed to sign, stuffed inside your bag at the last minute before you left your apartment earlier.
The summary. Right. Yes.
“Can they stop sharing that video of Yeonjun excessively flirting with a fan?! I’m going to kill myself if I see it one more time.”
You were lucky enough to nab a fansign slot. But instead of getting Choi Yeonjun’s signature, you ended up getting a kiss of a hand instead, along with a scrawl of numbers on your album that you’re far too terrified to try to dial.
“Hey, send me our photo with Soobin the other day,” nudges Huening from beside you. “I’m gonna print it out and put it in a locket and use it as a family heirloom.”
You bumped into one of your favorite actors, Choi Soobin, in the middle of a late night convenience store run with your friends to fuel your group all nighter, stained his shirt with your ice cream, and got a photo with him in the process.
“By the way, have you called the business card yet? What are you gonna do with your broken phone screen?”
And Choi Beomgyu may or may not have professed his undying love for you, asked for your hand in marriage, and started crying in front of you in less than ten fucking minutes.
“She’s zoned out.”
The problem is, you can’t even bask in the delightful absurdity of it all because one common thread from all those three separate instances has been keeping you up for nights. It’s clawing at your brain, lingering in the back of your mind like an incessant stalker— which, mind you, is not a pleasant feeling when the very causes of such disturbance were once the bringers of joy and all things good in your otherwise meaningless life as a cog in the capitalist machinery that is society.
“Hello? Are you awake?”
Said problem being the fact that you’re pretty sure they all called you by your name at one point.
How the fuck do they know your name?
“I deleted Twitter. I Airdropped it to you. No, I have not called it yet. Now please let me think in peace.”
Crazy. This is all too crazy. In the first place, what are the odds that you bump into three celebrities within one week’s time? Is this some sort of prank, or something? Are those three filming a hidden camera show together? No, no. That couldn’t be because there’s no fucking way a company is sane enough to stage a risky hidden camera prank during a fansign knowing full well how obsessive and insane fans can get. You’re lucky your face wasn’t caught in any of the videos circulating online— video of you and Choi Yeonjun, mostly him, acting out a fucking sageuk. You’re lucky you haven’t been doxxed yet.
“Finish your sandwich,” Taehyun clicks his tongue, nudging your food closer to you, and you sigh heavily. Maybe you’re just wrong, you think, taking a bite from the bread. Maybe this is just a misunderstanding. Maybe you’re just overthinking.
You eat your lunch and steal some wet wipes from Gaeul in between. Right. It’s not like you’re ever gonna bump into them again. You live in, as cliche as it sounds, two different worlds after all. You’re just gonna watch their dramas, listen to their music, enjoy their performances, and that’s it that’s it that’s it.
“Prof Jang sent a message. Class is canceled.”
But still—
“Woohoo! Let’s go to the new dessert shop that opened downtown.”
Choi Beomgyu’s voice saying I love you, Choi Soobin’s cologne wafting in the air you were breathing in, and Choi Yeonjun’s lips pressed against your skin.
How can a sane person just forget about all of that?!
“Why do you look like you’re fantasizing about perverted shit?” Woohyun slaps you in the face with a reality check. This is fucking stupid.
“I’m not fantasizing,” you grunt, because they were events that actually fucking happened— they weren’t birthed from your brain’s insanity. “Anyway, dessert? Where is it?” You ignore your burning face, hoping that your friends decide to ignore it too, but Gaeul has her eyes narrowed at you. Crap. She didn’t recognize that it’s you in the videos right? Holy fucking hell, you’d rather die.
“Aren’t you gonna answer that?”
Oh. Well. That’s— that’s something. A good something because she hasn’t suspected you yet, moitioning instead to your cracked phone that has been buzzing under your notice because you’ve been thinking way too fucking much.
You check the caller ID, but it’s an unknown number, and it doesn’t match the business card you got from your run in with the alleged Choi Beomgyu. “Hello?” you answer, and a voice you don’t recognize says your name and asks if it’s you. “Yes, this is her. Who’s this?”
Another item added to the weird as fuck things that happened to your this week. You excuse yourself from your friends, and with knitted brows, you listen to the stranger at the other end of the line. “You met Choi Soobin the other day at a 7-Eleven in Gangnam, right?” The fuck? Did someone see you that day? Is this a stalker? “This is his manager. Lee Byeongho. I would like to speak with you regarding a certain matter.”
Now, hold the fucking phone.
“Is everything alright?”
You respond to Huening’s concern with a stiff smile before turning away from them. “Did I do something wrong?” you fuss into the call. “I didn’t post any of the photos from that day. I never talked about it online either, and I’m pretty sure my friends haven’t either. Wait. Wait a minute. How did you get my number?”
“Yes, it was difficult to obtain knowing only your first name and university.” That doesn’t answer your question. That just gave you more questions. “But, no. You aren’t in trouble. Actually...I called because you’re the only one who can help us— help Soobin— get out of trouble.”
Your face scrunches up.
“I’m at your campus right now. Parking lot. Do you mind meeting me for a moment?”
Just what did you get yourself into?
“You haven’t finished your food. Where are you going?”
“Somewhere,” you reply, quickly snatching your half-eaten sandwich from the table as your friends follow your swift movements with matching looks of confusion. “I’ll be right back. It’s nothing, don’t worry.” However, you are quite worried. You’re pretty sure Lee Manager, or whatever, is committing some data privacy crimes against you, but the one thing you want at the moment is answers. Your brain is about to explode from all the fucking questions and confusion. There’s a sliver of hope that meeting up with this sketchy guy can answer a few of them. You’d take that chance to air out your head.
There’s a black van in the parking lot. It’s the first thing you noticed because one of its doors are open, and there’s a familiar looking guy waiting just in front of the exposed seats. 
He notices you approaching. “It’s nice to finally meet you,” he says. What’s with men you’re meeting for the first time treating you with familiarity? You’re going to rip your hair out and throw yourself into moving traffic.
“Sure, but can you get to the point?” you stiffly say. “I’m a little busy. I still have classes in a bit.”
“Of course, I’m sorry. This whole situation must’ve come off as a shock to you.” Great, now you’re feeling bad. Soobin’s manager (allegedly) looks like he’s been through a whole lot as well. “Anyway. You are a fan of Choi Soobin, correct?”
“Well,” you blink. “Yes.”
“How about the dramas Kang Jaehee has written and directed?” he follows up. “Are you a fan of those as well?”
Your brows furrow. “I guess?” Peach Tree. That Summer. Mogi. Those are the titles that come right at the top of your head. “What does that have to do anything with me?” Manager Lee spares you a look of pity. You feel like this meet-up is just set out to making you even more fucking confused.
“I sincerely apologize. I didn’t want to drag you into this either, but I’m afraid you’re the only option I have,” says Manager Lee despondently. “Since...since you are a fan of Soobin, and I assume that means you also care about his career, so—”
He pauses. Like he’s practicing the next set of words he’s about to say inside his head.
“—do you mind meeting up with him to convince him to take the lead role for Kang Jaehee’s upcoming drama?”
But nothing could’ve prepared you for that.
What.
What the fuck?
“Mr Manager. Sir,” you start, appalled beyond comprehension. “I’d appreciate it if you start making a bit more sense.” 
“Trust me, I can’t believe I’m doing this either.”
You’re speechless. Your mouth is hanging open with no words coming out because, again, what the fuck? Manager Lee looks just as defeated as you, as if he weren’t the one who had just presented that ridiculous proposal. You are, quite frankly, at a discernible loss. 
Manager Lee lets out a sigh and digs a hand into his pocket. “I’m afraid this is all the time I have today. But please contact me once you’ve made a decision.” Another business card acquired. This is just dandy. “I am really hoping for your cooperation, miss. I’m sure you’re aware of Soobin’s inactivity lately, and my intention of approaching you today is simply in order to help my star’s career. Please consider the favor positively, and we will compensate you as much as my authority can allow.”
With that, you’re left with another laminated piece of paper in your hands. Gosh. This is a headache. When you get back to your friends, they notice the distress you’re in, further justifying a visit to the new dessert store, and seeing how your soul has completely left your body, you’re dragged along with them with ease.
“Hey, pick one. My treat,” says Woohyun. You let out a grunt and point at a random pastry on display. Next thing you know, you’re seated in between Huening and Gaeul at the store you don’t even know the name of. 
Huening is force feeding you an eclair. “Eat.” Your scowl disappears when you allow the eclair entry into your mouth. “Seriously, what’s going on with you? Who did you meet earlier?” 
Seeing as you show absolutely no intentions of telling them, they refuse to question you about it further. Good on them, because there’s no way in hell you’re spilling your predicament. Not until you find out exactly what kind of situation you’re in, at the very least. The two business cards feel like they’re weighing your pockets down, a constant reminder of their existence along with the scrawl Yeonjun left behind.  
“I know exactly how to make you feel better.”
The declaration comes from Gaeul, who slides her phone over to you, and when you look down to see what exactly her miracle medicine is to make you feel less manic, you hack out a cough upon seeing Choi Yeonjun’s face on her phone screen. “The hell is wrong with you?” asks Taehyun from across, giving you some water to push down the eclair lodged in your throat. “I know you like him, but even that is an overreaction.”
Jesus, you’re close to losing it. When you’ve avoided choking to death, Gaeul puts an airpod into your ear, and you hear Yeonjun reading out some comments. “Choi Yeonjun, you look really happy lately, did something good happen? someone asked,” he says while having snacks of his own. “First of all, why are you calling me Choi Yeonjun? It’s like you’re putting a wall between us. I don’t like it.”
Gaeul makes a noise of some sort and had you not been subjected to this week’s insanities, you might have reacted the same way too. Instead, you simply listen to his live in caution, feigning disinterest as you watch him nibble on some pretzels and churros through the screen, continuing to answer the slew of questions in the comments.
“Anyway, you’re right! Something good did happen.” Yeonjun hums while picking out a pretzel from the paper bag, rustling noise and a lively tune filling the audio for a moment— a short moment, right before he continues speaking. “That’s because I finally met the love of my life.”
Taehyun has to give you his water again.
“Oh? Oho, what’s with the exclamation points?” he laughs. “Did I meet them the other day? Hmm...that’s a secret. You’re curious? You think it might be you? Well, let’s see. Should I describe her?”
“God, he’s so fucking messy,” says Gaeul from beside you. “This is why I like him. How many calls is he getting for his manager and company this time?”
“What’s going on? Why is she so startled?”
“Yeonjun’s talking about his apparent soulmate, I don’t know. Wanna listen?”
“Didn’t he get in trouble for doing the same thing last time too?”
Now, you’re not one to give a shit about his love life, and you like to stay out of that side of celebrity gossip as much as you can, but Choi Yeonjun himself is droning on about the love of his life right now. You can’t not hear about it even if you want to. However, as much as you want to let things come into one ear and out through the other, you can’t. Because— wait. Wait. His description is eerily familiar. His description is making you double take and second guess what you’re fucking hearing.
“Sounds a lot like you,” Taehyun remarks without much thought, right after Choi Yeonjun says that the girl he likes has a bit of an attitude, but he likes that about her.
Huening lets out a snort. “Yeah, that’s definitely you. Why don’t you go in a wedding dress the next time you attend a fansign? Who knows, you might have a shot.”
You snap them a dirty look. Fuck. This is making your head spin. For the second time, Choi Yeonjun’s tendency of putting himself into headlines and the trending searches for doing something insane is giving you nothing but stress.
“I did give her my number, but she hasn’t messaged me yet, so I’m quite hurt.”
Number. Hold on a fucking second.
“The comments are going crazy.”
You grab your bag from underneath you, dropping it down to your lap.
“Hey, if you’re watching this, pl—eeeeease contact me. Kim Noona thinks I have a phone addiction now because I’ve been dying waiting for your call.”
You quickly get up from your seat.
“Yo, where are you going this time?”
“I need a minute,” you announce, eyes scanning the store for a quiet place alone while hugging your bag to your chest. There’s nowhere. Looks like you have to get out. 
“Damn, we were just joking. As if you have a chance with a celebrity like him.”
Huening’s joke is ignored and you quickly leave outside the doors, making a sharp turn around the corner, slipping through the passersby downtown until you find an empty alley. Your heart is racing. Your heart is racing like crazy and you may be reaching right now. You may be acting crazy, but what Choi Beomgyu said during the interview with Yeong-Il the other day is echoing in your mind, and— in conjunction with everything else that had happened— you’re starting to think that maybe he wasn’t joking.
Your cracked phone screen greets you when you take it out of your pocket. On your other hand is the first business card you got this week.
“Who’s this?”
“Hello. Good day.” You tell them your name, the events that led up to you receiving this number, with the hope that maybe you’re finally on to something. “I’d like to talk about the compensation for my broken phone.”
Whatever that something is, you’re gonna get to the bottom of it.
*
It’s already beyond closing time at Kwiyeomdongmoim Cafe (a mouthful, you know), yet your pink apron is still neatly tied around your waist as you pace back and forth, to and fro, in circles inside the breakroom. The time is half-past nine in the evening. You should’ve clocked out thirty minutes ago, but you’re still waiting. 
The knock on the door signified the end of your wait. You turn to see your boss’s head popping in through the half-open crack. 
“Three guys are waiting for you,” informs Seokmin. “They all seem handsome. Are they your suitors?”
When you ditched your friends at the still unnamed dessert store the other day, you did it to make a few calls. Three, to be exact. Today is the culmination of those calls, which is why you’ve been erratically nervous the entire freaking day. Choi Soobin, Choi Beomyu, and Choi Yeonjun’s managers all answered respectively when you called all the sketchy numbers you got and made some negotiations (apparently, the mess on your album is Yeonjun’s number, but he got his phone confiscated after that livestream). 
“As if,” you say, walking up to the door leading back into the cafe. Suitors, more like stalkers. Fans stalking their idols is common, but the other way around is a pretty fresh idea. “Anyway, thanks, Kyeom. Thank you for letting me use the store for a while.” Because this is the only private place you can think of outside of your own home— and there’s no way in hell you’re letting them in there when you don’t even know how they managed to get hold of your personal information.
“We’re closed anyway.” Seokmin smiles and makes way for you to pass by. “Go ahead and do your thing. Do you want me to stay inside or keep watch?” 
“You can stay inside, it’s alright.” 
He nods. “Call me when you’re done. Scream if you need backup. I can handle all of them.”
You laugh and thank him once more, a pat on his arm before you decide to peek out the door first as a precautionary measure. From your spot, you can see three thoroughly covered men in windbreakers, caps, and masks sitting on three separate tables in the store. The blinds have already been rolled down, so you can’t see anything outside, but there doesn’t appear to be any cameras around, so you take it as a safe sign to finally leave your hiding spot.
The moment you do, the break room door creaks, and all three pairs of eyes immediately fall on you. 
They stand up. They call out your name in unison.
Holy shit.
And when they do, they all look at each other with a sudden flash of hostility in the air.
Um. Well. How are you supposed to do this? “H—hello,” you manage to squeak out, prompting their attention once more. Soobin takes off his cap and removes his mask, the other two following suit, and oh my god. Oh my god. You suck in a deep breath. Today, you are not a fan. You are an interrogator. This is not a fansign. This is an interrogation. 
“I— uh, I asked your managers if I can meet you all to—today for a specific reason.” Wow. Good job. Your hands are shaking and you can’t look up from the floor or else you’d start losing your mind. “But—but, before that— would...would you like some drinks…?”
Interrogation paused. You need to get your shit together first.
“Please enjoy.”
With the help of your boss (because your hands wouldn’t stop shaking and you dropped the first one you made), you managed to whip up four iced teas and settle all three of them into one table at the very back of the store. You send a stiff smile at Seokmin after he placed all the drinks on the table.
God, you owe him so much— especially when he’s being unreasonably glared at by the three men sitting with you right now. Choi Beomgyu to your left, Choi Soobin to your right, Choi Yeonjun directly across from you and holy fuck, you have yet to look at them properly yet for your own safety. They haven’t been talking to each other either, simply sitting and waiting for you to speak. You’re pretty sure they know each other though, at least by name, being in the same industry and all. 
To say that the tension in the air is suffocation would be an understatement. How...how do you start this? The fuck should you say first?
“You know, I was really happy when Kim Noona told me you called.”
Apparently you don’t have to start it. Choi Yeonjun does it for you.
“But why are these two crashing our date?”
And that’s when things also start to get messy.
“Date?” Choi Soobin interjects. He sounds offended. Why does he sound offended. “What are you talking about?”
Choi Yeonjun doesn’t get a chance to make his case. Because Choi Beomgyu from your left suddenly snatches one of your hands from the table, prompting you to look at one of them for the first time tonight, and your eyes fly wide open. “I’d...like to apologize for the other day. I was just overtaken by my emotions. I hope you weren’t too freaked out.”
You are quite freaked out because holy shit, this is too much maybe. Not maybe. Yes. This is too much. Too. Much.“Hey, why are you holding her hand?!” you hear Choi Soobin exclaim from your other side. Choi Beomgyu’s soft expression suddenly disappears into a glare and a sneer the moment he shifts his gaze.
“You’re holding her hand too!”
“Why can’t I?!”
“Hey, this isn’t fair! One of you switch with me—”
Dizzy. You’re feeling dizzy. Your head is spinning and you’re suffocating from the heat emanating from your very face. Whatever they’re arguing about isn’t even reaching your ears anymore. You’re getting lightheaded and your sweaty hands start slipping out from the two’s weirdly tender hold on your hands because your body is physically breaking down.
“Shut up! Oh my god, my head—”
Your vision actually starts spinning for a second so you quickly bring the bottom of your palms to your temples, elbows on the table to balance yourself, only to be wobbled and shaken because the three suddenly jolted off their seats in panic.
“Are you okay?!”
“I’m fine, just please—for the love of god— sit down and shut up.”
They sit down and shut up. You massage your temples in silence. You remove your hands from your face and, after sucking in a deep breath and releasing it thereafter, feel your heartbeat settling into a normal rate. As normal as it can get in this situation.
“Whew. Okay. I think I’m ready. Let’s get down to business.” Finally, you’re the one steering the conversation. You give each of them a once over as quickly as possible because now you know that prolonged eye contact will only hurt you. You settle with looking at the gaps between each of them. That’s fine. You’re fine. “Choi Soobin, Choi Yeonjun, Choi Beomgyu.”
It’s like three bulbs just lit up in succession. Your brain is starting to hurt.
“A—as I was saying, you three are some of South Korea’s biggest celebrities and although I am, in fact, a big fan of all three of you—” Why is Choi Soobin growing pink. Why the fuck is he blushing. “—that— that does not make me fail to recognize the amount of weird shit that’s been happening lately, and I think I need answers.”
They are still sitting down and shutting up. They listen to instructions well, at the very least.
“First, how the fuck did all three of you know my name without any prior introduction. Second—”
The words get clamped in your throat. It’s lodged in there very tightly because you make the mistake of looking one of them in the eye, only to notice that all three of them are looking at you with the same expression. An expression you can only describe as longing.
And your face starts burning.
“Se— second, why…why do you all keep looking at me like I’m an ex you want to get back together with…?”
Maybe you asked the wrong question.
Because for some reason they all look sad now. Really sad. Really fucking sad and it’s making your stomach clench and nerves all numb and funky because making three big celebrities all sad simultaneously is a bragging right at one end of the spectrum, and a national crime at the other.
It’s Choi Soobin who cracks the silence. “I…I had a feeling when I saw you again for the first time at the store.” Again? “Do you not remember me?”
Your face furrows. “No…? Did we ever meet before you became an actor?”
Hurt. The look of sadness has now spiraled into hurt and one might think you just stabbed and twisted a knife into his fucking gut.  “How—how about me?” Your attention turns to Choi Yeonjun who isn’t looking any better. It’s like his entire world view was just proven to be wrong and why does it feel like you’re the one to blame. 
What else can you do but shake your head in denial? Now he looks like he’d just been told he’s adopted!
“You’re…you’re joking,” he tries to laugh it off, but it only comes off as strained and shaky, then, in one fell swoop— desperate. “R—right…?”
“Great!”
Before you start feeling even shittier, Choi Beomgyu finally decides to join in. 
“And here I thought her forgetting about me was the worst case scenario.” His tone is bitter. There’s a snap in his words. “I didn’t think there’d be other bastards in the same situation as me. God fucking damn it.”
There’s a moment of silence. You watch as realization hits the other while you’re still left in the dark. Choi Yeonjun juts his seat closer. Choi Soobin tries to reach a hesitant arm to your direction, but you’re  tugged to the other side by Choi Beomgyu, who’s suddenly a little too, too close.
“Hey.”
Your hands are clamped together. 
“I meant it when I said I love you. I do. I have loved you four hundred years ago and I still love you now, and if whatever god or deity decides to make you meet you for the third time, I’ll still love you then.”
Beomgyu’s holding both of them in between his in a firm grip.
“Second life is about you. Blue Spring is about you. You’re the person I’ve been waiting for from the beginning of this life until the last.”
Now, if this situation wasn’t crazy, your heart would be skipping a beat right now.
But it is crazy. This is fucking insane. And you look around to see that there’s a weird look of sympathy and understanding in the other Choi’s eyes, clearly not recognizing the visceral insanity of this situation, which fills you with a swallowing lump of existential dread. You pry your hands out of Beomgyu’s grasp (you swear you can hear glass breaking), and slowly turn to Choi Yeonjun and say, with a very hesitant, very cautious, “Y...you too…?”
The look on his face says it all. And then you swivel over to Choi Soobin.
“And you?” 
“I’ve lo—”
“No!” you snap. “Don’t finish that sentence. Please. Oh my god.”
You see Seokmin popping his head out from the corner, mouthing an are you okay? and you shakily bring up a weak thumbs up. “Well, isn’t this interesting,” you hear Choi Yeonjun say, which feels like a slap in the face because what exactly is interesting about this. “Here I thought I was special.”
“Get off your high horse,” retorts Choi Soobin, a sneer in his voice. You double take. Choi Soobin is supposed to be sweet and gentle and kind. Who is this man? “Whatever kind of past you had with her doesn’t mean anything. I met her first. I met her at the end of King Danjong’s rule.”
“Ha!” Choi Yeonjun starts. “We got married under King Taejong. I’ve loved her before any of you did.”
Now, what the fuck?
Choi Soobin’s face pales and he chokes over his words. “M—married?”
There’s a smug grin on Choi Yeonjun’s face. He leans back against the chair with his arms crossed in victory. “You heard that correctly. Married. Pack up your bags. Unless you want me to tell you everything we did on our we—”
“Shut up, shut up, I don’t want to hear it!”
Marriage. King Danjong. King Taejong. Second life. The gears are churning inside your head. You don’t like the direction where the gears are pointing.
“What about you?”
Choi Yeonjun raises the question and the attention is now on Choi Beomgyu. He’s been quiet. The other two wait for him to say his piece— a feigned air of disdain and arrogance but there’s an unconcealable undertone of nervousness underneath it all. Your iced teas have been left untouched. Choi Beomgyu simply scoffs and presses his crossed arms against his chest.
“I have no reason to tell you any of that. This is between me and her.”
And at your mention, you receive the undivided attention of three pairs of eyes once more. Your heart rattles. God fucking damn it. Listen, you’re an avid consumer of the entertainment industry. You’ve watched a good amount of dramas and have read a good amount of manhwas to surmise a conclusion with the bits and pieces of stray information being tossed back and forth between the three. And it’s all ridiculous. But you have nothing else to work with unless they come spilling their guts themselves.
“So,” you clear your throat. “Are you three, like…a couple…hundred years old…?”
They all look offended. 
“No!”
Well, maybe you’re wrong about that part. But after a very long, convoluted discussion, the “facts” (if you can even call it that), are finally laid down on your feet.
They say you’ve all met before. Separately, in three separate lifetimes, with this one allegedly being your fourth unless there were lives in between that they can’t remember. One thing for certain is that the three of them remember the life they had while loving you— and they loved you very much apparently because those feelings and memories got carried over even after they got reborn into the present day.
The problem is, you don’t have the same symptoms. You don’t remember anything about your past lives. Hell, you can’t even remember anything in this life before you hit two years old. 
You slump in your seat. The table rattles. They get up from their chairs and come circling around you in concern.
“Are— are you okay, do you need to lie down? You could rest in my van for a while and—”
You swat Choi Yeonjun’s hand away before it could land on your shoulder. You’ve now got your hands on your face in stress, and peeking through you see Choi Soobin on your right, crouching down and looking up at you with furrowed brows and big, sad eyes. On your left is Choi Beomgyu, half-seated on the chair. You let out a very long, very anguished and muffled groan. This is too much. “If— if what you guys are saying is true,” you say. “What does it matter?”
There’s a tense pause in the air. 
“What do you mean…?”
You spring up from your seat and turn around, Choi Yeonjun in front of you. 
“I mean what does it all matter? King Sejeong, Joseon era, or whatever— I don’t care about all of that. We’re in the twenty-first century right now. I’m neither your lover nor your wife. I’m just a fan of your dramas and music and performances and that's it.”
You squeeze your eyes shut. You don’t really want to see their faces right now. You let a huff of air slip past your lips, turning back around to collect the untouched glasses of drinks on the table.
“Thank you for taking the time out of your busy schedule to meet me and explain. I hope it’s all settled. Thanks for clearing everything up today. You can now all leave.”
It’s Choi Yeonjun who races after you when you make your firm and quick strides to the counter. He cuts off your path. “I—I don’t understand,” he chokes out. You make the mistake of meeting his gaze and see the threat of tears glazing his eyes. “What—what do you mean?”
Admittedly, that hurled a giant pang against your ribcage, knocking the air out of your chest, but you move forward. You brush past him, setting the glasses back on the counter, and— after a moment’s pause— you turn around, a heavy weight on your shoulders. It’s like gravity is trying to suck you deep into the mantle. “What I’m trying to say is we should all just get over what happened all those hundreds of years ago and live our lives in the present. I mean, I don’t know any of you. Don’t you think it’s unhealthy to keep clinging onto the past, especially when you guys are nothing but strangers to me in this life?”
Dead silence. You don’t dare look at any of them in the face. You try and retreat to the break room as quickly as you can, hands fumbling to untie your apron along the way, but you stumble over your steps, screeching to a halt the moment you hear someone say—
“Do you think it’s that easy?”
You could hear your heart in your eardrums. 
It takes all the strength in your body for you to look back, to see the pained expression on Choi Beomgyu’s face standing the farthest away from you out of the three. “Do you think I put my name out there so that it’d be easier for you to find me, wrote all those songs about you in the hopes that I could see you again if you’re someone I can just easily forget?”
Your throat tightens. It’s like you’re swallowing a boulder.
“If you wanted me to forget about you, you shouldn’t have died right in front of me then. You shouldn’t have told me you loved me right before you went cold in my arms if you wanted me to fucking forget.”
Oh.
Oh, god.
Choi Yeonjun and Choi Soobin don’t look any better. It hits you that you might have been more than a little bit unfair.
“I’m sorry.”
You don’t know your history. You don’t know what the fuck happened between you and them throughout those years that made them feel so strongly about you. But it must be harder for those who remember than for those who forgot.
It’s not like they chose to live in the present with half of their souls stuck in the past, either. You’ve been acting awfully unfair.
“I was being insensitive. I’m so sorry,” you exhale. Your knees feel like they’re about to buckle. Your head is spinning in circles. “But to be honest, this is all still very overwhelming, and I’m having a hard time comprehending and making sense of everything. It doesn’t feel real.” You try to take a step closer, but your legs give in. Choi Yeonjun quickly rushes to balance you back on your feet.
“Don’t push yourself,” he says, softly. You can’t look at him. God, these guys really know how to bring your guilt all the way home.
“Thanks, um, anyway—” You breathe in. Shit, you can’t believe you’re considering this. “Again, I really can’t and won’t be able to understand the magnitude of your— well, uh— feelings, since I really don’t remember anything. But how about…I spend some time with each of you individually, and maybe…maybe it can help in jogging back my memories?”
The atmosphere shifts. Ah. This feels like a fucking trap.
“You— you mean it?”
To be honest, you’d much rather just not deal with any of this, just stay at home and continue living your life with these three men as persons you only know behind the screen. But those looks in their eyes— hopeful and melancholic— make you feel your organs are being rearranged every five seconds, and you’d feel bad leaving them with the pain of this conversation especially after they poured out their hearts to you.
You can’t deny the joy and escape they’ve given you for the past couple of years you’ve spent as their fan. Maybe entertaining this unreality is the least you can do.
“I mean, well,” you start, clearing your throat. “Choi Beomgyu, you still need to pay for my phone. Choi Soobin, your manager wanted me to talk to you about something, and Choi Yeonjun—”
You look at the guy who still has one arm pressed against your back, two hands in a firm grip on your shoulders. He’s looking at you and batting his eyes expectantly. You let out a sigh and set yourself loose.
“I need to discuss something with you soon, too.” As in, please stop vaguely mentioning me in your live streams because I fear I might find an angry mob in front of my house. “I think I have all your contact information anyway.”
There aren’t any more reactions coming from them. This seems like the best possible solution for all of you. You sigh again. This has been an emotionally draining evening. You can’t wait to get some fucking rest.
“I’ll be in touch with you or your managers soon. For now, let’s call it a day.”
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STAR STUDDED BAGGAGE. © hannie-dul-set, 2024.
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fearful-quartet · 2 days
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So I've been listening to The Magnus Protocol, and managed to get my dad into TMA last year so he's now listening to Mag Protocol too. So last night we were listening in the car to the latest statement, and I was half-jokingly saying which fear the statement sounded like mostly, to which my dad starts talking about how he doesn't think these statements and the O.A.I.R are connected to the Fears at all. I'm gonna try to put a cut for anyone not caught up but here's how this led to a theory of mine:
So Lena said to Gwen that there's good and bad forces that need to be balanced, but she never said which side of that the O.A.I.R. is part of, if any. I was noting this when it hit me.
Every single Magnus Protocol Statement so far has been about misfortune coming around due to perceived fortune or a fortunate opportunity becoming misfortune.
Let's break this down ep by ep so you see what I mean.
Episode One: It's a little hard to figure out what the fortune is to the misfortune, especially since it's mostly getting us used to the characters and the overall setup of the show, but for the first statement I think it's not the statement giver, but the husband. Harriet (the one emailing) says he sounded excited in an unsettling way (I am assuming the "he" she is talking about is her husband since she doesn't mention anyone else). When she meets him, or what has him, she describes that he laughed and laughed. Her misfortune was his fortune, his joy.
The second statement in that episode of course is about the Institute, but by way of a bunch of spelunkers looking for something intriguing to discuss. I haven't quite figured out the connection here but I am sure there is one, even if it's through the characters (aka Sam) finding something within it.
Two: A lot easier to connect to this. Daria is finding joy through getting this tattoo that allows her to change how she looks and alter her appearance immensely (and grotesquely). Enough said.
Three: This statement is one that overall I just don't understand tbh, but I think it shows the opposite? As in the victim is experiencing fear and discomfort the entire time, but towards the end you'll notice he gets much more happy and calm about the situation.
Four: This is again easy, it's about a violin that needs blood but will give you amazing talent if you pay that price, and horrible bloodshed if you don't. Self-explanatory.
Five: The guy is trying to make a living off watching and reviewing horror movies, gets excited at a live showing of one just for him, then realizes it's not what it seems and posts everyone should see it. Easy enough. (Very Grifter's Bone in energy)
Six: The introduction to infamous new tumblr sexyman, Needles. I shouldn't have to spell out how he gets pleasure from others in pain by needles.
Seven: All I gotta say is it's "all for a good cause" and you should get the picture.
Eight: Utilizes that uncanny fear of false hospitality if you ask me, but either way this statement is clearly taking something associated often as comforting and twisting it.
Nine: The dice literally affect fortune and misfortune and likely make the statement giver into the embodiment of fortune. 'Nuff said.
Ten: Bonzo needs no explanation for this in his introductory episode so let's move on.
Eleven: This one goes more into obsession territory than anything, which is another running theme of the show and another theory, but it also talks about how the sea brings comfort so that could be part of it. (Also I noticed the sneaky possibly Dr. David reference in there lol)
Twelve: Now I know what you're gonna say, "How is this one connected to fortune at all, Cal? It's about some woman being traumatized at a strip club!" Well think about this: what if it wasn't supposed to end in Bonzo? Gwen gave Bonzo an "assignment," didn't she? And Lena pretty much outright says that this statement was that assignment. So it's possible this is what happened after stopping the initial outcome.
Thirteen: The latest episode as of typing this, and the most clear with evidence. The man literally gains a fortune from his own misfortune, so ya know it's right there.
So every statement is a good thing turned bad or a bad thing turned good. So what? Magnus Archives had plenty of statements similarly framed, so why am I focusing on it here?
Because what is the tagline for Magnus Protocol again?
Fear takes many forms.
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cl3stevu · 2 days
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Blip…
Pairing: Miguel O’Hara X f!reader
Plot: college classmates
Summary: Complicated relationship, heartbreak, and regret, also height difference.
Warnings: sweet beginning, Smut, aftercare, angst like a lot of it.. .
a/n: No use of y/n :), also I do like to think miggy is 6’9 😤 and reader is either average woman height or shorter that’s all on you either way he’s still giant. And you KNOW this man’s got a big one 🙂‍↕️
••••••••••••••••••••••
You remembered the first time you saw him.. interacted with him.. looked into his eyes, since that moment you searched for him everywhere, from class to just catch a glimpse of his curly brown hair.. to the coffee shop she found out he frequented. To the library she saw him studying at. And the moment you found out his name.. Miguel O’Hara.
Though at first it was just occasional greetings to each other or small interactions, you convinced yourself it was just a crush.. something that would go away, that was until your heart would sting when you saw him being close to other women.
Talking to them.. smiling at them, laughing with them she just wanted to be acknowledged, it hurt even if it shouldn’t have.
Until at some monthly frat party, you got dolled up to go with her friends.. the party was boring most of the time, until he spoke more to you..
his crimson eyes stared down at you a softness to them, his voice smooth and deep.. “Hey there hermosa..” that was the first time he looked at you the way you wanted.
Over the next few weeks you had gotten closer and closer, spending time studying together or sitting together in class they even went to the movies together, you felt happy about it you didn’t exactly know if it was romantic or not but he used a lot of nicknames for you.
Presently now, you and him had just gotten back to the campus from a party and he insisted he take her home, you accepted and they walked back to your unoccupied dorm since her dorm mate was staying at her boyfriends.
They talked about the party and whatever little dramas happened because of course some happened, you smiled and laughed with him, you had got to the front door of your dorm and you turned to thank him. “Well thank you for taking me back, I hope you get back safely.” You were cut off by Miguel speaking “How about I come in hermosa?, could watch a movie order a pizza..” his voice smooth while smiling down at her.
“Oh.. okay that’d be okay..” you got flustered but tried not to show it.. you went into your dorm room you showed him around, and you set up your tv and bed to be comfortable and changed into a soft matching pj set.
Miguel had ordered a pizza since you two were hungry and wanted to get a little more sober, they comfortably watched a movie together and ate..
After the first movie they decided to watch a romcom.. she was getting
comfortable and about halfway into the movie you felt his large hand on your as he looked over at you. “Eres bonita.” he said softly to X, you smiled softly with flushed cheeks. “You know hermosa.. I hope you don’t mind if stay longer then expected right?.”
“Well.. depends for what.” You said softly turning to face him better, Miguel smirked softly tucking a piece of hair behind your ear he then leaned in and kissed her cheek, his hands trailing up your body resting on your back pulling you closer to him, his lips went down on your jaw and softly kissing the front of your neck.
He pulled you onto his lap, his hands massaging the plush flesh of your thighs up your hips and waist to hold you close to him, his lips softly found yours as he gave you soft pecks while one of his hands went up into your hair to softly hold you still.
The feeling of everything he was doing made you feel warm and happy, you reciprocated the touches in a shy manner, hands resting on his chest as you two kissed softly. You had been suppressing fantasies and daydreams of similar scenarios happening the past couple months.
He pulled away and kissed your neck sucking softly leaving small bruises behind, you let out a small whimper which made him smirk as he gripped your waist tighter, he looked up at you as his voice you loved so much spoke. “may i?.” He asked as he gripped the bottom of your shirt.
You nodded a little too enthusiastically, his hands snaked up and pulled your shirt off while smiling softly he leaned down to kiss and leave more bruises behind on your shoulders and middle of your chest.
you held onto his arm while his hand went behind you and unclasped your bra, he threw it off as his hands came and cupped them both, making you bite you lip.
He rolled the sensitive nipples between his fingers, you gasped and your cheeks turned red at the feeling, he smirked as he took his own shirt and pants off as he lifted you up to do so. He hooked his fingers in the band of your shirts and panties to pull them down.
“Tan bonita .. solo para mi.” Miguel softly said as he looked over you, he laid you down on the bed as he softly pulled apart your legs and smiled, as he reached down to his pants pocket and pulled out a condom.
He pushed his boxers down, you felt a little shocked at the size as he rolled the condom down his length, looked back at you and pushed your legs back up as he used his fingers and softly rubbed your clit. Then up and down your slick folds your sweet whimpers and soft moans leaving your lips you felt so turned on and needy for this man truly.
“Just gotta help you relax cariño.” He said as he slid one of his thick fingers pushed inside your slit, you let out a surprised mewl while he softly massaged your insides.
“Miguel..” You said softly as you moaned and he added another finger inside, he leaned down to kiss your cheek. “That’s it tan buena .” He murmured against your cheek while his fingers pumped in and out of your hole, he hummed as he looked down at you and pulled his fingers out.
He held his length in his hand as he softly pushed it against your folds, coating his dick in your slick and biting his lip he slid the length up and down as the tip nudged against your clit. “So wet cariño..” you gasped softly and moaned quietly as he continued.
“You ready?.. just tell me if you need me to stop okay.” Miguel said as he looked at you, you nodded signaling you were ready as he held your leg with one of his hands as the other slowly pushed the thick head of his dick inside you.
You let out a moan as he entered, the feeling was blissful the way he filled you was so good you weren’t sure if you’d ever be able to live without it, he was gentle as he pushed inside and slowly pulled back out to thrust back in slowly, he thrusted slowly for a few minutes making love to you sweetly.
“More please-“ you muttered out absentmindedly needing more, he obliged and began thrusting a little faster and deeper as he held onto your soft thighs, he groaned and whimpered quietly as he looked down at you beneath him. Writhing from the pleasure he gave you.
Soon you felt that euphoric feeling in your stomach as you panted while he sped up some more, the sensation was amazing for both you gripped the sheets as you threw your head back moaning louder but trying to be quiet so others people in the dorm building wouldn’t hear you.. but it was getting to the point where you didn’t care who heard.
As long as you could keep feeling him inside you and holding you, you came and let out a whiny moan Miguel smiled as he cooed at how good you are for coating him, while he thrusted some more to reach his high. he shot his warm liquid into the condom he panted and leaned over to kiss you while he told you how good you did.
he pulled out as he threw the condom away, and walked off to your bathroom to come back with a warm cloth to clean you up, being gentle not to overstimulate you in the process, he put some new clothes on you and brushed your hair.
Tucking you into your bed and laying next to you, or as best as he could in the twin size down bed he caressed your hair as you fell asleep.. content with how the night went.
••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
That went on for a while, you and Miguel hadn’t really made anything official or put a name to it but you thought you had something special with him.. he took you out to eat to parties and well made love to you like no other, around 3 months passed like that it was sweet.
Today was another day you and him went out to the movies to watch a new movie, then went back to your dorm to well.. what else now you lay in bed together, just watching a random tv show then Miguel sat up. “Hey.. we need to talk.” He said as you sat up and nodded “okay what is it?.” You came up with small ideas on what it was, to what the plans were going to be for fall break to if he’d finally ask you the question.
He sighed and looked away slightly “look we can’t do this anymore.. I’m sorry, I just have been building a bond with this girl and I want to make it official with her.”
That made your heart drop, it felt like you’d been punched in your heart and made you feel.. angry?.
“wait.. then what was I?.” You asked in a confused hurt tone, his eyes widened slightly “well- I mean I just thought of us as something causal you know?, I mean isn’t it all it was?.”
How wrong he was, your brows furrowed into confusion. “I thought we had something special- is that all I was to you?, your causal fuck buddy?, I thought we were building something..”
“Look I’m sorry.. we can still be friends but I just want to focus on her.” He said as he got off your bed, you were hurt and anger and you had good reason to be, he led you on.
“Fine.. fine just go..” you said and he grabbed his things as he walked to your dorm door he looked back at you “I’m sorry again..”
••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
The next few weeks after that happened you weren’t feeling the same.. the nice routine you and him had wasn’t there anymore, you began ignoring any gatherings or activities to avoid him.. to avoid the man who you thought liked you.
There was a void every time you went to any of the places you frequently visited with him, you saw other couples and felt a hole in your heart, you thought he would’ve felt the same..
You couldn’t stand the view of him and his new girlfriend.. that was supposed to be you and him, why did he do that to you?.. why would he.
The time you two spent together was sweet and nice.. who knew he just thought of it as nothing serious.
The rest of college went like that, you did only have a year left so that was relieving you left and started your career in business, it was hard to forget Miguel but it was for the best.
Maybe it wasn’t the time for you, but it was the wrong moment, whoever knew the answer to that question.
You were in love with Miguel, but never even made it to his top five.
Merely a blip in his lifetime.
• • • • • • • •
A/n: sorry if it’s bad 🤧it’s my first one and I’m trying to get better at writing again, if anyone has tips please tell me🤞 ALSO tell me if yall want part 2 (that will probably be longer too)
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