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#so if I know that a room has shut me away or if people are not being genuine anymore
withleeknow · 3 days
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hi lovely!! first off congrats on 1k that's so so awesome and you deserve all that + more truly :( your writing is so tender and so lovey
i would to join in on your little drabble event!!! could you do something for hanji and the song compass by the neighbourhood? that song reminds me of him so so much so i hope you get the vision!! thank you angel and have a beautiful day!! ✮⋆˙
compass.
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pairing: producer!jisung x reader genre/warnings: established relationship, hurt/comfort?, fluff, swearing, arson jokes? lmao word count: 1.4k
as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡
main masterlist / request masterlist / ko-fi
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you're always there to help me when i'm down i'm lucky you've been keeping me around you're the star i look for every night when it's dark, you'll stick right by my side
compass - the neighbourhood
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"fuck, fuck, fuck!"
the sound of jisung's verbalized frustration draws your attention to his desk and setup in the middle of room, where he's been sitting for the better part of two hours, hunched over the equipment like he often does when he's in the studio.
it's written all over his face just how upset he is that this particular piece he's working on isn't flowing right. the deep furrow between his eyebrows communicates utter displeasure. the clench of his jaw tells you he's angry, and that he's angry at himself for not being able to work through his block.
you abandon your comfortable spot on the couch in favor of pattering over to his side where he's all tensed up like an aggrieved hamster whose body can't contain the annoyance he feels. jisung can be short-tempered sometimes, but you know how to handle him in moments like this.
sliding a hand over his back, you say, "take a little break with me."
he huffs out a breath, eyes still focused on his laptop screen. "i can't afford a break. chan hyung expects this to be done in two days."
"so it's in two whole days. you can leave it for fifteen minutes, it won't kill you."
"but i still have to rework the first verse and figure out what in the fucking hell this second verse is-"
"han jisung," you scold him lightly, to which he instantly shuts up and peers up at you with his big eyes, immediately apologetic when he recognizes his harsh language.
"sorry," he mumbles, "i'm just stressed."
"which is why you need a break. you're not doing anyone any good just sitting here and trying to make your laptop explode with your eyes."
he lets out a pathetic-sounding mewl but he follows you to the couch regardless. jisung knows you're right because you always are. you're the more level headed between the two of you, whereas he's the one who lets his emotions get the better of him sometimes.
before, he would often succumb to his negative feelings. it's hard to keep his cool when nothing seems to go right and there's a deadline on his ass. he'd get so frustrated with his work that sometimes, he would delete whole tracks off his drive only to instantly regret it and spiral even more. he'd take it out on the people around him with his grumpy attitude and misplaced pettiness.
when jisung is overwhelmed, he tends to spin out in all directions. he splinters and drowns in a sea of his own making, constantly being pushed away further and further from shore because he doesn't know how to anchor himself, how to hold on so he wouldn't drift far away. his solution to soothe his anger has always been to give into it, to rip whole pages from notebooks and lock himself in his studio for hours on end until he could plow through the stubborn creative block. it'd often leave him exhausted - emotionally and physically so - and in no better state than he started out with.
jisung accepted this a long time ago - that his way of dealing with his emotions wasn't very healthy, but it was the only way he knew.
that is, until you popped into his world and taught him that people can be lifelines too. falling upon him like a wish that he never realized he was making his whole life.
"what's the matter, baby?" you ask, prompting him to air out his grievances as he lays his head on your chest while you card your fingers through his soft curls. he leans into you instantly, a long sigh escaping his pouty lips. jisung's got a lot of pride, and he would rather die before admitting to anyone that he loves to be babied by you behind closed doors.
he knows the question is just your way of getting him to verbalize all of his pent-up frustration, and not because you're eager to help him traipse through his mind palace and solve whatever dilemma he's having with the track. let's be honest, you never really have a clue what he's talking about, but it helps that you're keen on listening to him even though you can't offer him any valuable insight. more than you could ever know, it does wonders for jisung, just being able to untangle his thoughts and release the mess in his mind.
he could simply just talk to chan, sure, or any of his other friends who work in the industry. but again, his pride is an awful thing sometimes.
you never make him feel like he has prove himself to earn your love and attention, though. around you, jisung feels enough as he is. there's never been any need to toughen up in your presence.
"i just... i can't work with this track. nothing is flowing right. i hate everything i come up with." he rambles on about the things that plague his mind; topline this and beats that - they're really just words to you. you weren't blessed with the same genius in music that jisung was, so you just listen until he's done, until he concludes his tangent with a groan as he nuzzles further into the comfort of your warmth.
"you said that the last time, you know?"
"said what?"
"that everything sucks and you hate it."
"because everything sucks," he whines again, his eyebrows knitted together as he adorns a petulant pout. "and i hate it."
as you play with his fluffy hair, you feel him lean into your touch like it's the very thing that will bring him clarity. in a way, it does. your gentle touch may not give him the answer he needs, but it quiets the static in his mind, drowns out the continuous buzzing that muddles his brain.
"you're too hard on yourself," you say, to which jisung just huffs out a breath in disagreement. "i'm serious. you say this every time but it all still works out in the end. you're so smart, and talented. you shouldn't forget that."
his frown only deepens in response to your words. he knows you're right; things have always turned out fine before. trust the process and all that shit, but he's hot-headed and impatient sometimes, and he doesn't want to endure the stress that often comes with the process. he just wants to get to the finish line.
then, you continue, "remember 13?"
"what about 13?"
"you didn't like it at first either. you were so dramatic about it. but you sucked it up and finished it anyway. you made a hit and nobody could stop talking it. i believe in you. you just need to believe in yourself too."
in complete silence except for the sound of your steady heartbeat in his ears, jisung keeps laying on top of you like a weighted blanket, soaking up your words as a flower would in warm sunlight. of course he remembers 13 and the day he let you listen to the song for the first time. you'd nearly burst into tears in the middle of this studio, pressing kisses all over his face while you gushed over how proud you were of him.
"damn you," he mutters after a while. "why do you have to be so rational?"
"someone's gotta be. if i wasn't here, you probably would've ripped all your hair out, set your keyboard on fire and ran off into the woods."
he shoots up instantly, propping himself on two elbows as he glares at you even though you've got a valid point. it's not that far-fetched of a scenario.
"what?" you tilt your head with a coy smile. "am i wrong?"
jisung stares at you for a quick minute, and it's that very smile you're wearing that mitigates his frustrations and dulls his urge to sabotage his work out of self-inflicted anger. he says nothing at all, just leans down quickly to give you a kiss full of appreciation, despite the way there was a frown tugging on his eyebrows only seconds prior.
"you good now?" you ask, the words coming out a little muffled against his mouth.
if it's with you, then he is. you're the anchor that helps him part his stormy seas. you're the compass that always guides him home. he really doesn't know where he'd be without you, or how he'd manage in times like these if you're not by his side to ground him.
"always good with you around."
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all rights reserved © withleeknow. reposting, translating and/or modifying is not permitted by any means. [posted 24.04.2024]
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Okay but imagine if the Creator's child was Kaveh's.
Out of literally everyone in the world and the creator bags the broke architect 🤭
Que Jessica Rabbit's 'he makes me laugh'.
He still lives with Alhaitham bc the idea of sharing a literal child with the creator but still getting locked out of your apartment is hilarious.
The creator had a the broke architect's child
Creative child
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After your child is born with no distinctive features other than his blond hair the first one to know who your lover was is your own child
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WC: 900~
To be 100% truthful I only thought about doing this for the iconic physical feature like neuvi, Diluc, etc but this was fun jsjs
“Morning, parental unit” your blond son stands on the door joining your library and the solarium in which you often humored visits.
“Morning, uhm, offspring?” Your hand reaches towards the book shelf without minding him, people said children his age find joy in speaking and behaving weirdly, and yours wasn't an exception, if his giggles meant something. 
“I heard you speaking with mister Diluc about visiting Sumeru”
“It's bad to eavesdrop” softly you chastise him but he pouts and stomps.
“I wanna go! You told me dad lives there, I wanna meet him”
“Shush! I told you that as our secret” you close the book you were skimming over but sigh as you see his yellow eyes “but last month when I told you to come for a festival in Sumeru but you didn't want to go”
“Because aunties Eula and Amber were going to teach me how to skyyyy” he whines the last word, already sensing you wouldn't want to take him there. 
“Bratty child” you groan “fine, if you manage to make up for the 4 days we will not be here with your tutor I will take you” and as you finish talking you hear him slamming the door shut and his bare feet hitting the floor as he runs away.
And, somehow, your usually mischievous child managed to work hard enough to make up for a few absences, or so said his tutor, who you still believed was under the spell of his puppy eyes, just like when he managed to smuggle two cats and a cryo slime.
“Karen, stay close, we have to go to the akademiya to check some paperwork and sit through some meetings” you grab his forearm, dragging him away from the colorful stained glass mobiles and the fluffy beasts carrying spices and fruit.
After a fair bit of bickering with every stand selling something he has never seen you manage to reach the akademiya, even if Karen was almost being dragged. 
Popping your head on the administration room you see a row of desks, a familiar face standing out amongst the sea of brown hair, a long gray hair standing up tall from his scalp.
Alhaitham is lounging in his desk, a book on one hand and a pen on the other, seeing him so calm makes you decide against bothering him and rather to ask one of his coworkers, even if you have to wait for a little bit while they finish transcribing as you chat them up, knowing it could be intimidating to have you stand silently besides them.
“C'mon let's just go to himmm, he looks like he is just lazing arounddd” Karen tugs on the bottom of your tunic but you ignore his little tantrum and keep asking the girl about the date she told you she will have after work.
Seemingly waiting for five minutes was too much of a waste of time that could be used to explore this nation. Sneaking silently behind you he stands before Alhaitham’s desk, but is ignored as he has his noise canceling earbuds and Karen isn't taller than the desk.
“Hey” he says, no answer “Heeeyy” no answer, now ticked off Karen slams his small hands against the thick wood board “HEY! STOP IGNORING ME” 
Alhaitham just peeks his head towards him, not hearing the noise but seeing his hands, but when he looks at him his annoyed look and yellow eyes seem too familiar.
He opens his mouth, eyes half closed as if he was thinking about something. 
Now noticing he was causing the ruckus you drag him by the armpits so he stops hitting the desk, as you start making Karen apologize you see Alhaitham's face. His eyebrows now almost up with his hairline and his green eyes uncharacteristically wide, but quickly he changes into a smirk as Karen apologizes for yelling.
“Please don't tell me it was-”
“Keep reading your book”
“Not my guest's bed~” he teases while grabbing his book, expecting the office to be calm again when the door slams open again, a blond huffing and puffing ready to face his housemate.
“YOU… how come you always grab my keys?! I couldn't enter the house for 2 hours!” to which al haitham tugs a set of keys out of his pockets and dangles three keys and a lion doll.
“Ugh, calm down. Why even wait 2 hours if you already know where I work?”
Under all their yapping you mumble something to your son “that is your dad” and you let a small promise to make both meet if he is busy, but after 5 ish minutes of bickering and the paperwork you needed snug in your hand it's obvious it will be quicker to just end this fight yourself. 
“Kaveh? Oh, hi, it's been so long” one of your hands falls on his shoulder, making him notice your presence “like 4 years ago?” You ask as you feel Karen hug one of your legs.
“oh, yeah, it's been so long” he laughs lightly, feeling suddenly bashful.
“It's a shame I was so busy I was just able to visit Sumeru, someone wanted to meet you” the flat part of your nail rakes through your son's hair.
“Huh?” He just now notices the kid behind you and his bright hair.
“Could you take care of him for a second? I have to finish a meeting and I should be able to meet you two”
“Yep! I will show him around and we can meet at the cafe, in sure we will have a lot to talk about”
Don't dare to run away so fast... Who allowed you to use my house like a motel
Hick!
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reidsdimples · 1 day
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Spencer Reid x Reader
18+🔥
You’ve been hooking up with your coworker Spencer Reid. Does the rest of the team know? 👀
After a long case, the two of you can’t keep your hands to yourselves.
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“Dr. Reid, a minute?” You ask him as the team makes its way into the bullpen. The flight from Seattle was long and everyone’s ready to wrap up their paperwork and get home.
“What’s up?” He steps aside into the small kitchen with you.
“What was the true probability that Morgan wouldn’t have had to shoot that unsub?” You ask him.
“Given his devolution, the desperation of being trapped, and the lack of control he had, he wasn’t coming out of that apartment alive. I’d say based on what we know, only about a 5% chance of one of us not having to shoot him,” he answers quickly.
“Right,” you sigh.
“We saved the girl, it’s still a victory,” he places a hand on your shoulder. The touch diverts your train of thought to him, to the electricity that just surged between you.
He meets your eyes and swallows hard before dropping his hand.
Those hands, those damned hands. In the last month they have been all over your body, his long fingers inside of you, down your throat, pinching your nipples…
“Reid, Y/N, a word?” Hotch pulls you out of your thoughts.
Did he know what the two of you had been doing? That two of his agents have been sleeping together secretly? You look to Reid whose face gives nothing away. He wouldn’t show concern, he’s way better than you at masking things from other profilers.
Shit shit shit.
Hotch leads the two of you to his office, JJ, Morgan, and Prentiss exchange looks of curiosity. Your heart hammers in your chest, heat creeping into your throat and ears.
He doesn’t know, there’s no way he knows. You two were careful.
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“I got a complaint that you snapped at one of the witnesses,” Hotch starts with Reid.
Relief floods you but worry for the verbal beat down creeps in. Reid had snapped at a witness, right next to you.
“And you didn’t tell me it escalated,” Hotch turns to you.
“Sir, I…” you stammer.
“That witness was out of line, Hotch. She agressed us first,” Reid reasons.
“And as soon as Reid got snippy, I shut the interview down,” you bud in.
Reid grips one of the arm rests and you remember that same tight grip on your ass. You jolt upright and adjust in your chair, catching Hotch’s attention.
“Reid you are brilliant and you are an asset to this team but you have to be more patient with these people. They are victims too,” Hotch leans on his desk and crosses his arms. “Y/N, you did the right thing by shutting it down but next time run it by me so I’m not blindsided by a complaint. Understood?”
You both nod.
“If it happens again, I’m documenting a disciplinary action,” he says with finality. Reid clears his throat, red on his cheeks.
You both stand in unison which Hotch takes a mental note of.
“Great work this week nonetheless,” Hotch says as Reid gets the door for you.
Leaving his office feels like stepping out of tar, you slow your breathing and purposely walk away from and ahead of Reid.
Shit. Hotch is reading the two of you, he’s picked up on something.
An hour passes and no one on the team has left, everyone still lost in their paperwork and conversation with one another. It’s one of your favorite things, time together after the storm of a case.
You leave your desk to go to the restroom before heading to the intel room to grab some more files which are kept in a large closet connecting to Garcia’s office.
You’re fumbling through paperwork for a while, taking out boxes and placing them on one of Garcia’s desks. You make a mental note to clean it before she gets to work in the morning.
You turn suddenly at the feeling of a presence behind you at the entrance to the closet.
“Shit Reid, you scared the hell out of me,” you sigh.
He’s leaning against the door frame, watching you with a conflicted expression. Strands of hair fall around his face, messy and untamed. He’s removed his cardigan and rolled up the sleeves to his light colored button down. It the dim light he looks gorgeous, mouth watering even.
“You think Hotch is onto us?” he steps forward and pulls the closet closed behind him.
“It’s possible,” you answer honestly.
But then he’s right on top of you, his fresh scent invading your lungs, his body heat warming you.
His hand grips your hip, pulling you closer to him as he starts to nip at your neck.
You pull on his waist band, need buzzing between your thighs. These meetings, these moments where heat and need build to an impossible level are what you live for.
“Then we better be quick,” he snakes a hand up to your jaw and kisses you quickly, desperately.
You’ve never done this with so little people in the office, what if they notice your absence? What if they notice both of you gone together? You’re about to say something when you become aware of the taste of him, his cock straining against his pants, and just how acutely you need him inside of you.
“This is a bad idea,” you hum while hurriedly pulling his cock free from his pants. You pump it slowly, causing him to grunt under his breath while he hikes your skirt up.
“I’ve wanted to do this since you put this little skirt on,” he smiles and rips your panties to the side. You giggle but bury your face in his chest so the sound doesn’t travel.
He sinks a finger into you, his finger immediately soaked and it pleases him. He bites his lip knowingly before pinning you against the wall and wrapping your legs around his waist.
“Eyes on me, baby,” he says when you screw your eyes closed to revel in the moment he enters you.
He stretches you around him, gravity forcing you all the way down onto his cock. You grip onto his shoulders as he starts to move, one hand on your hip, the other in your hair. The tip of his cock strokes the nerves inside of you so deliciously that your eyes roll back in your head. It had been too long since you had him and the possibility of getting caught is a thrill that heightens the experience.
“So good,” he whispers, sweat beading on his forehead.
The sounds of him moving inside of you and both of your controlled panting brings you to your climax fast and hard as he continues his rhythm into you. He’s focused, he knows exactly what you like and how to get you to cum for him. That eidetic memory will not let him forget precisely what you like.
“Reid,” you whimper and he clamps his hand over your mouth. You bit into his palm as you clench around him and he fucks you through your orgasm.
“That’s right, keep coming on it,” he urges. The low moans in the back of his throat are ecstasy and you know you’re going to cum again.
He drags his cock out and pushes back in, torturously slow. If he had time, he would tease and drag this out until you were crying. Your legs shake around him as he hits your gspot repeatedly, now rushing the two of you to finish before you get caught. Fuck.
“You’re going to finish with me and then you’re going to go back out there and pretend you aren’t filled with my cum,” he growls against your ear. Your nails dig into his shoulders and you can’t take it anymore.
You come undone around him in waves as he pumps you deep and fills you with his cum. He shudders against you, steadying himself on the wall. His cock pulses inside of you and you’re reeling with pleasure.
There’s no time to revel in it though because you both hear Morgan and Prentiss talking outside of Garcia’s office.
He jolts back, you drop to the floor and pull your skirt down while he fixes his pants. Both of your are panting but trying to control it. The room is hot and alive with what just happened.
“Go out there,” you shove him. “Wait look at me,” you say. You realize that you left a claw mark on the side of his neck, the scratches angry and red. So instead you rush into Garcia’s office from the closet just as Morgan enters it.
“Reid in here?” He asks when he only sees you in the office chair with a folder. You’ve stopped breathing. You hope your hair doesn’t give you away.
“I think he’s in there looking for a file,” you say quickly.
“This the one you need?” He asks Morgan, handing him a file.
“Yeah,” he takes it and turns to leave. “Come look at this,” he tells Reid to follow him.
Reid glances at you with a small smirk as he follows Morgan out of the room, one hand resting on his neck to cover your scratches.
Fucking hell, you’ll never get enough of him.
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bean-bean2000 · 3 days
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The Maid - Part 9
Pairing: Loki x reader
Warnings: Angst, mentions of violence, depression, mentions of suicide, despair, feeling trapped. Mentions of abuse and rape.
Please read at your own risk. Your own media consumption is not my responsibility. Please read and review the warnings before proceeding.
Thank you and enjoy!
Series masterlist Main Masterlist
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Loki walks to the balcony and beckons you to follow.
You see a table with a spread ready for you. It's the most food you have ever seen and the most delicious-looking.
Trying to hide your shock and anticipation at the feast, you force yourself to sit down and intertwine your fingers.
Loki begins piling food on his plate when he realizes you have yet to reach for anything.
"Do you not like anything here?" he says to you.
"Oh, um, no no I just... I don't know what I like..." you stutter.
Loki looks at you confused "What do you mean? This is standard Asgardian food."
"I've never had... they serve the servants the scraps so..." you falter.
Loki looks to you with an accusatory stare.
"You're hiding something."
You breathe in sharply and fidget in your seat.
"How do you mean?" you question him, pushing your luck.
He's the god of lies you fool. Of course he knows you're hiding something.
"They may serve the servants scraps as you say, but you've undoubtedly tried at least the basics... even if they were in the form of scraps..." he says slowly while analyzing you.
You shift under his gaze.
"I guess you're right. I must have not realized when I ate them." you lie again.
He knows you're lying. He can taste lies.
Somehow, he doesn't push further and resumes eating his lunch.
He beckons you to try and eat. You take a few bites and your eyes widen with how delicious it is.
"Mmmm oh Norns, this is fantastic!" you say with your mouth full.
Loki laughs, and you blush embarrassingly covering your mouth with your hand.
As you're eating you start to question why he is being so nice to you. This isn't the rumours you've heard... he's said to be ruthless... selfish, and careless... but here he is eating lunch with you on the balcony of chambers fit for a princess?
You're so lost in thought you don't notice Loki watching you. He's staring at you, analyzing everything you do.
"Thank you for everything... this is a lot... nobody has ever been this kind and generous to me before. It means a lot to me." you say to him, eyes locked on to his.
You notice his entire demeanour change as soon as you expressed your gratitude.
"That is all for lunch. We're done here. I've entertained the strays enough for the day. Clean this up then start your duties as my personal maid." you're shocked by the sudden change in attitude.
"Well? Are you just going to stare at me? Go on. Do your job." Loki chastises you.
Confused, you get up and start cleaning up the table.
"Oh, and I've forgotten to specify....these chambers are not yours. You will be provided a more suitable living quarters for someone of your status. These chambers are for a queen. Don't forget your place. You're a maid." Loki says to you as he walks out of the room and slams the door shut.
You stare at the table, confused and shocked at the drastic change in mood. The room falls silent.
Did he just call me a stray?
He's right. I am just a maid. How could I ever think I could be anything else?
You feel tears prickling at the corners of your eyes and you blink them away as your mind connects the pieces.
I was foolish. This was all some cruel trick; showing me everything I will never have. The god of trickery... he fooled me into believing I could have any of this. I trusted him... blindly. The rumours are true, he is twisted; he gets off on psychologically torturing people. I had promised myself to never trust anyone but myself again and yet he manipulated me into trusting him... the king... the god of lies and mischief...
As you're mind is spiralling you feel the anger and hurt bubbling inside you when suddenly the plates on the table fly across the room and shatter on the floor.
What the? I didn't throw those plates.. did I?...
Puzzled by the strange occurrence you keep replaying the last words he spoke to you.
You're a maid. Don't forget your place.
You repeat that to yourself multiple times as you finish cleaning the lunch table. Sighing, you gather the cleaning supplies and go into autopilot as you begin your routine.
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You finish your rounds for the day and put the supplies back. Sighing, you realize you don't know where you're supposed to stay... he said to not go back to the maid's quarters but you have nowhere else to go.
You hear the flapping wings of a crow followed by its caw. It lands on the windowsill in front of you with a note attached to its claw.
Of course he would send his pet to relay his demands.
You slowly approach it and open the note. Flickers of green scatter across the page as the message appears:
'Your new sleeping quarters: The room behind the office.'
Obviously he would place me far away from everyone else to see but close enough for me to continue my work for him.
You make your way to the office and notice a door hidden at the far back behind a corner.
You turn the knob and push it open. A small room with a cot, a wardrobe and a small bathroom, with basic amenities lays before you. It was a fraction of the size of the other chambers.
Better than the hay-filled mattress and common bathrooms I used to share.
You sit down on the chair near the desk placed in the corner of the room. Scanning your surroundings you note that the walls are simply made of stone, no heating provided for the colder months ahead. Nothing you haven't survived before. A small square window in the middle of a wall sheds some bit of sunlight into the space.
On the bedside table you see a cloth with stale bread and nuts, with a glass of water.
Back to the usual menu I see...
You sit on the cot.
At least I get my own space.
You lay down and stare at the ceiling, contemplating your current situation.
I never have a choice. They are always made for me. This is my new life for now, until he decides he no longer needs me and I'm thrown into the wild to my own devices. It wouldn't be the first time.
You shiver as the nightmares from past flow through your head. Shaking your head to rid of the thoughts, you turn to lay on your side, your back still sore, amongst other injuries that have yet to fully heal.
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Over the next few days, your routine remains the same. Today you're assigned a new section, the library.
You push open the doors and gasp at the immensity of the room. The walls are lined with floor to ceiling bookshelves, a staircase in the middle leads up to a second floor with a couch and another room filled with books.
You're overcome with excitement and immediately start walking throw every aisle, scanning what books he has.
When's the last time I stepped foot in a library? Let alone held a book in my hands...
One of them catches your eye and you pluck it from the shelf and delicately open it. You sigh with content at the familiarity and protection you feel from holding a book.
A way out... mentally, momentarily... to keep my sanity and forget who I am. An imaginary shield around my heart, keeping reality at bay, daydreaming to be someone, somewhere, I could only dream of... a fairytale of course.
You breathe in deeply the smell of the book, sighing again, feeling your shoulders relax for the first time in ages. The book is filled with the same stories you vaguely recall your parents reciting to you as a child. You're filled with nostalgia as you flip through the pages, smiling at the memories.
"I didn't know you liked to read." Loki says from across the room. You gasp, eyes wide, shutting the book closed quickly and placing it back in its spot on the shelf.
You decide not to reply and start gathering your supplies again to resume your cleaning.
Loki watches you as he approaches. You're dusting the shelves when he comes behind you, merely inches from you and takes the same book out.
Your heart is racing.
How dare I touch anything that is his without permission? Another reason for punishment. Damn it, I couldn't help it... old habits die hard.
You're plucked from your thoughts as his voice carries through the room.
"A storybook? These are for children." he states as he flips through the pages.
Again, you remain quiet and continue your work.
"Most servants are illiterate. How do you know how to read?" he questions as he leans against the bookshelf behind you.
Without turning around to face him you reply "My father taught me."
"Hmmm... and who was your father?" he pushes further.
"He was once a professor."
"So, you can read higher than this level I presume. Why choose this book then, out of everything else in this library?" he questions.
You're furiously dusting, trying to distract your racing heart. Keeping your back to him "My father read them to me at night. I read them to my parents when they fell ill." you reply stiffly.
Your once nostalgic joyful moment now soured by the painful memories of the beginning of your suffering.
"Why aren't you facing me when you speak?" he questions.
You pause and let out a quick breath "I'm trying to finish my work on time, your highness. I know you highly appreciate punctuality."
"You still haven't learned that I know when you're lying?"
You huff in annoyance and turn around facing him "I'm not lying. I would like to finish the work on time to avoid punishment for tardiness, my king" you bite our rather harshly. Your eyes widen again at your outburst.
You swallow thickly.
He approaches you slightly and raises his arm. Your gasp and flinch away. Shutting your eyes tightly, arms tucked to your chest in protection.
You don't see the way Loki's body shifts uncomfortably at your instinctual reaction. He continues his movement of his arm and places the book back on the shelf. He watches as you're shaking, shrinking into yourself.
What happened to you? he asks himself.
You wait for the pain but when nothing happens you open your eyes slowly and see him staring at you with his eyebrows raised.
"Not the entire truth but close enough." he says smugly.
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Tag list:
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@elegantcheesecakecrown
@chxco-hyujin
@cheshire-salvatore-mikaelson
@i-am-amora-the-enchantress
@cakesandtom
@dorck26
@buckitostan
@princessdragon23
@classicsandfantasy
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crazylittlejester · 3 days
Note
I was wondering if your little fics were still open, if so I have a request
okay so I’m auditioning for an orchestra soon (scary) and I’m really nervous and I was thinking about Legend and his silly instruments sooo I was wondering if you could write something about Legend being able to play like any instrument? Like maybe the chain is in a dungeon that has to do with music and such and Legend is having so much fun pulling out the most random instruments and playing them and knowing what to do
Thank you for even reading this!!
I want a name like your other anons so I guess you can call me band nerd anon or something of the sort if you so please
WOAAAAAH GOOD LUCK!!!! That sounds super cool, I miss playing music, I hope you do well and have fun!!
Here you go, band anon!! (485 words):
“This is so stupid,” Warriors grumbled, still trying to wedge his sword between the doors and pry them open.
“You’re stupid!” Legend shot back, wishing the captain would just shut up and stop complaining for five seconds so he could think. This is what he got for exploring a dungeon with Warriors of all people, the man who, for all his problem solving ability, couldn’t see to help him find a way out of this damned room.
“I don’t see you doing anything to help,” the captain grunted when he lost his grip on his sword and went stumbling backwards. He was panting heavily when he braced his hands on his knees to take a moment to breathe.
“Oh because you’re being so helpful,” he rolled his eyes. He knew Warriors was just panicking because they were trapped in an inclosed space, but he really wished the man would just sit down for a minute so he could think.
“Just shut up,” Warriors glared at him, and in the brief moment of silence between when the man finally shut his mouth and before Legend spoke, he heard a faint melody. A faint melody that kept repeating the same few measures over and over again.
“Do you hear that?” He asked the captain, and Warriors stood up straight with a confused look.
“Hear what?”
Legend walked around the small room, trying to find a place where the music might be louder. Closer to the door, the faint melody was just loud enough for him to make out the notes.
“Can you seriously not hear this??” He stared at Warriors, who was looking at him with an odd expression.
“Are you… making fun of me right now…?”
“What??” Legend scoffed, rolling his eyes. “No, I’m trying to get out of here so I can get away from your ass.”
Warriors narrowed his eyes, but walked closer to Legend and tried to listen for the melody.
“I can’t hear it,” he sighed after a few moments stepping back with an irritated look.
“Be honest, do you think if I played it the door would open?” Legend asked, blinking at his brother.
Warriors just stared back. “I mean I just wasted fifteen minutes trying to pry it open with a sword, so you might as well give it a shot.”
Legend rustled through the pouches on his belt for his ocarina, testing a few notes before he figured out the first note in the melody. It took him a few tries before he got all the right notes, but once he did, the door sprung open immediately.
“HAHA!!” Warriors jumped up and down, punching the air in excitement before sprinting out. “Oh sweet Hylia, you fucking did it!!”
Legend couldn’t help the smug look from forming on his face as he stooped down to pick up the captain’s forgotten sword, left on the floor in Warriors’s panic to get out of the room.
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idontplaytrack · 6 hours
Text
Distress
Janis ‘Imi’ike x fem! reader
Warnings: hospital setting, descriptions of labour & delivery with complications, vomiting, blood & bodily fluid mentions
In which, Janis’ life ends up in your hands. So does your baby’s — and you had to make a decision that would be life altering either way
It’s crazy how fast life could change. And how drastically it could change — all because of one thing.
“y/n, you have to choose. Quick.” The doctor urged you. You felt the blood draining from your face as tears poured from your eyes. You were all alone with a lifeless Janis on the operating table, surrounded by people- doctors and nurses but the most alone and helpless you’ve ever been. You wanted so bad to fall on the ground and cry, but you tried to stay strong. Though you weren’t sure what it was for at this point. You didn’t know what to do.
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Once Janis was confirmed to be in labour, you came into the hospital with her to meet her team for the occasion. You got her checked in then she was swiftly brought into her room that was picked out in advance. The nurses on shift got her changed into an open-back gown — which she hated, and got an IV plug set. She hated the latter even more. And of course, a fetal monitor. “All done, mama.” The nurse smiled sympathetically, “You’re all set. Just try and rest and we’ll be by every hour to check on you. If you need anything, call button is on the remote on either side of your head on the bed rails.
“Okay, thanks.” Janis replied simply.
Once the nurse had left, Janis asks, “Did you tell them yet?” “I did. I texted the group. Cady said she and Regina will come by soon, after they have breakfast. The rest of them are probably still asleep-” Your phone buzzes, “It’s Damian. He is…on his way.”
Janis chuckles, “He’s actually coming here?”
“Yeah, that’s what he said.” You showed her your phone screen briefly.
“Damn.”
You put your phone away, “How are you feeling so far?”
“It’s not bad, maybe I just have high pain tolerance.” Janis assured, “I’m okay.” You press a kiss to her forehead, squeezing her free hand. Her contractions were regular, but not causing her much pain yet. It was true, Janis had way higher pain tolerance than you did.
“You wanna get back to sleep, babe?”
She nodded, laying on her left side then drifted off to sleep while you stayed up keeping an eye on her and your phone in case any of your friends texted. Friends, yes. Family, no. Your parents didn’t like Janis and her parents did not like you. They’ve been against your relationship from the beginning but Janis didn’t give a shit.
Periodically, Janis would make little pained noises in her sleep, alerting you that she was having a contraction. Not once did she wake up, until someone came in to check on her progress. Boy, did she hate that. She showed it and the doctor definitely already knew. Once the doctor leaves, Damian showed up. “Hi, honey.” He greeted.
“Hi.” Janis forced a smile, laying back down.
“How you feelin’?”
“Uncomfortable. Especially with the doctor just shoving her fingers in to check me. What an invasion.”
“I’m sorry, but I’m sure they need to do that.” He cringed, “How are you doing?” He casts his glance you. “I’m…okay. Nervous? But fine.”
“Okay, do you want anything to eat, drink?” He continues.
“No, I’m okay I can’t even think about eating right now.” You declined. The three of you chatted for awhile, then Janis just suddenly got silent- her eyes screwed shut and she reached for your hand. You let her squeeze it to divert the pain, “You’re okay, baby. Breathe through it. You know what to do.”
Janis was handling it like a champ.
————
An hour later, Cady and Regina arrived. “We’re here.” Regina says, “How are things going?”
“So far, everything’s perfect.” You told the pair, “Progressing as expected.”
Janis has gotten quieter, now that the pain’s picked up in intensity somewhat. “Jan? You alright?”
She nodded, looking away from you. You hear her exhaling harshly. “Okay. You want some more ice chips?”
“Yes.”
“Okay, I’ll be right back.” You told her, grabbing the paper cup off the table. You left Janis alone with the three of them for a minute or so while you went a little bit down the hall to get what she wanted. Actually, all she was allowed right now. “Here you go, babe.” You stood before, holding the cup up to her lips with a spoonful of the crushed ice. She opened up her mouth and accepted it.
“y/n?” Regina asks, breaking the silence, “Have you not eaten anything today? Your stomach just growled.”
“I don’t—”
“You need to eat.” Janis’s eyes flicked up to look at you.
“She’s right.” Cady chimed in, “I’m about to go down to the cafeteria anyway. I’ll grab you something too. Please eat. We can’t afford having you pass out today.” You reluctantly agreed while you fed your wife another spoonful of the ice.
“Fuck.” She mutters under her breath, you quickly put the cup down and held onto her, rubbing her back as she leaned onto you. Regina and Cady leaves after having asked you what you wanted to eat, after Janis’ contraction ended. “Whatever’s fine.” You told them.
“Okay, then.” Regina shrugs, leaving with Cady. As if on cue, a nurse returns to check on Janis. “You’re at a three.”
“Still?” Janis asked.
“It’s your first baby so it usually could take longer.”
“I can walk right? That’ll help?”
“Yes, dear.” The nurse answered, “You’re doing fine, don’t worry.”
“Thanks, Melanie.” You said to the nurse as she was leaving. She gives you a smile. You helped Janis stand up and walk around the room— but not before putting on a pair of non-slip socks.
You put an arm around her and kept her steady while she walked. Damian was paying pretty close attention just in case Janis got a pain that was too bad and you couldn’t hold her whole weight. The two of you took a few laps around the room before she decided she’s had enough for now. Regina returns and handed you a ham and cheese sandwich and a cup of tea, “Eat up. Cady’s in the bathroom.” “Thanks.” You took the food from the blonde and glanced at Janis in the meantime to make sure she was settled. “Babe, I’m okay. I’m just gonna take another nap before the pain keeps me awake.” Damian waits for her to be laying down comfortably before pulling her blanket up. “I’m so proud of you.”
Janis smiled at him, “Thanks, dude.” And with that, her eyes were closed again.
Regina started a conversation awhile later after deeming Janis deeply asleep enough to not get woken up too easily. “Are you okay? You don’t look so good.”
“I haven’t slept in what, 4 hours and we only got five hours of sleep last night before her contractions started.” You told her, “I guess it’s just been hard for me to witness all of this— as relieved as I have been that her pregnancy has went by smoothly and is considered low risk.”
“Because of—”
You nodded knowingly, “My miscarriage, yeah. I tried my best to protect her, keep her healthy and safe. Today’s finally the day and I just want it to go well.” Unexpectedly, the usually unaffectionate blonde squeezed your hand. “She’s doing great.” Regina looks at Janis’ sleeping figure, “Look at that monitor- she’s having contractions but not making a sound? What a badass.”
A small sigh escapes your lips, “Thanks, G.” You resumed eating, Cady walks back inside quietly.
————
“I have a shift soon, so I’ll get going. Any of you, please keep me updated. I will be back later, okay?” Damian requested quietly seeing that you were now napping as well.
“Sure, Damian.” Cady promised.
“Thanks, y’all. See you guys later.”
You woke up from your short nap and it was currently hour five. At the last check, Janis had progressed from three to four centimetres. “No one came in to check her yet right?”
“No, but soon, judging by the time.” Cady assured.
Once the nurse walked in to check on Janis, she pretty much got startled awake. By the pain. Seeing that look on her face, you were instantly flustered. “Something’s not right.” You and your friends froze, you felt yourself getting lightheaded but you forced yourself to stay standing.
Melanie hurriedly checked what was going on. “I’m gonna call for her doctor now. We need to do a an emergency c-section and the baby’s heart rate is dropping. She’s haemorrhaging. y/n, I’m sorry, you and your friends are going to have to leave the room.”
No, you couldn’t leave her. Not right now. Janis was wailing in pain, the worst you’ve seen her all day. All pregnancy. She was crying for you, but she knew you weren’t going to be here. You couldn’t be.
“y/n, please. Leave now. Her team’s coming in right now to intervene.” Melanie started shoving you out of the room. Regina looked her displeased but quickly led you outside. You could hear and see Janis screaming and crying through the blinds. Until a minute later her team of doctors arrived and shut the blinds, but not before you caught a look of the pool of her own blood beneath her.
“Oh, my fucking god.” You collapsed, heart shattered and crying in Regina’s arms. She caught you, making sure you didn’t hurt your head. For once in her life, the blonde didn’t have a clue what to say. You felt another pair pf arms around you- Cady was also hugging you. But none of that helped- you wanted Janis to be okay. You couldn’t believe what you just had to witness.
“Sit down, baby. Sit down.” Regina persuaded. You could barely hear her, tears falling without an end. You heard the commotion of them rushing Janis into the operating theatre and you couldn’t bear to look. Regina shielded your eyes from the sight, but they could definitely see it. You hear Cady gasp- she didn’t mean it. But you cried harder. “She’s a fighter, y/n.” Cady told you, “She’ll be okay.”
“You don’t know that.” You cried.
“She has a lot to live for, she will fight for them.” Regina agrees with the redhead. You blinked furiously, trying to stop the tears but they only kept falling.
Somehow, the whole gang appeared before you. You didn’t even know who told them but they were all here to keep you company. To hope and pray that Janis got through this. To make sure that the baby would be okay. As much as you appreciated them, you couldn’t express it. Your mind kept flashing with images of Janis in distress. It haunted you. No one dared to stop you from crying— you needed some form of release but they were also equally worried about what would come for you after such intense crying. With your head in your hands, your mind wanders to a particular conversation you had with Janis sometime during her pregnancy.
“If it ever comes to this…the doctor asks you if they should save the baby or me. Save me. We can always try again for a baby, one way or another.“
You sniffled, sitting up straight as you got into a coughing fit. Aaron quickly offered you a bottle of water from his bag. You declined wordlessly, right as a nurse rushed out asking for you. “Mrs. ‘Imi’ike, come with me now.”
The blood. The damn blood. Your stomach churned. But you took a breath and quickly followed her. “We’ve no choice but to ask, should we save your wife or the baby?” She asked while running. You ran with her, through the double doors and into the freezing operating theatre.
“We’re trying to save both of them right now, but in the worst case scenario, y/n, you have to choose. Quick. Right now.”
Seeing the team covered in her blood, seeing Janis unconscious. It shook you to the core, but you had to say it. You had to make the choice.
“Wife. Save my wife- I don’t care what it takes. You save my wife. I am not leaving without her.”
————
You don’t remember much from that point on. It was as though you’d blacked out. You didn’t even know how you got back out, but you were sitting in the plastic chair shivering. Gretchen. She drapes a jacket over you. You weren’t sure if it was her, but you heard her voice while you felt the fabric on your shoulders.
“y/n, look at me.” You hear Regina next. Your body just didn’t respond to that, but your mind becomes hyper-focused on the sickening feeling. You stood up but quickly fell back in the seat. Your legs didn’t work. Cady caught you this time- you hear her talking right by your ear as your head spun and spun. Your vision started to blur, your mouth watered feeling the bile rising in your throat.
You bent over and threw your whole breakfast up and then some. It does nothing but make you cry even harder, like that was even possible. They have never seen you like this…so vulnerable. You were always the life of the party. You always were optimistic, even through your own miscarriage. But this was a big fucking blow.
“They made me choose.” You sniffled, looking at no one in particular, “They made me choose—”
Aaron went to get a janitor to clean up the floor. “y/n, what—” Cady began asking. “Janis and the baby.” You swallowed, hard, your back falling against the backrest of the chair. Karen hands you a tissue, you wiped your mouth off hastily and she took another tissue to remove the used tissue from your hand. “They made me choose— and I —”
Regina holds you in her arms again, almost on reflex, letting you get whatever you wanted to say, out. “Janis told me before— to save her. And I did— but I still— oh, my God. What if she blames herself for the baby— G, I—”
“Sweetie, Janis knows what she wants and she’s always clear. You did what she would’ve wanted. You can always try again, but you only get one Janis.”
You only get one Janis.
————
The next hour or so— you weren’t certain, was like a never ending wait and nightmare. Your head rested on Cady’s shoulder as you tried not to give in to fatigue. Your head was starting to pound, you were so thirsty and your stomach ached from the inevitable hunger. But all you could think about was your wife.
The eerie sound of the double doors opening rang through your ears. You stood up right as her doctor approached you— free of her blood-stained attire. “Mrs. ‘Imi’ike, your wife is fine. But unfortunately, we had to let go of your baby. I’m very sorry for your loss, but your wife pulled through. She’s strong, a fighter.”
“Janis is okay?” You asked in disbelief.
“She received a blood transfusion for the blood loss thanks to one of your friends.” The doctor confirms, “She will make a full recovery.”
“Oh. Oh, my God. Thank you.” You hugged the doctor.
“It’s my job, dear.” She hugs you back briefly then broke away. “They’re just making sure she’s all settled then she’ll be moved to a ward. High-dependency for 72-hours just to be safe.”
“Okay, thank you.”
“Take care.” With that, the doctor departs. You began searching for the said friend who apparently slipped away from the chaos to help Janis.
“Who was the one—”
“Regina’s also O-negative so she went ahead and just gave her blood.” Gretchen answered your question.
“What…?”
Regina did? This was the most selfless thing she’s ever done for anyone.
“Shit, I couldn’t even help—”
“y/n, please. Anyone would help- no questions asked. You can’t choose your blood type. That’s- that’s not how it works. Regina didn’t even hesitate.”
“You helped the most, y/n. You went with her wishes. You gave her a second chance at life.” Aaron chimed in.
Second chance at life…you did do that.
“Fuck, I don’t know what I would do without you g—” You looked at each and every one of them, seeing Regina walking out from a room with a bandaid on her arm. You ran over to her and just tackled her in a hug, “Regina, thank you.” You sobbed, “Thank you for doing that.”
“I did what I had to do.” She rubs your back, “Don’t need to thank me.”
Later on, you were all informed of where Janis was sent to. They only allowed immediate family to enter, meaning only you in this current situation. But they all walked up with you, and you were so confused when you got there because her parents were inside. Already. They were exiting so they saw you, and they looked like they wanted to kill you. Maybe not literally, but their words sure hurt.
“She would have been fine if it weren’t for you.” Her mother spat. Given your current state, that was all it took to make you cry again. Regina’s grip on your shoulders tightened. “The doctors say Janis is okay.” Her father told her mother.
“Not for sure, she isn’t.”
Regina was even angrier at this point, witnessing the hell you’d just been through. “She’s the reason your daughter’s even lying right there now.” Regina spoke up, “Nothing gives you the right to talk to her like that. She saved our friend, her wife, your daughter. If anything, you should be thanking her. You weren’t here for Janis- y/n was here through all of it. You have no idea what she’s been through today. You have no clue what she’s had to see, to hear for the whole pregnancy, you have no clue what she herself has been through so don’t you dare start this shit with me. Now move, it’s her turn.”
You quietly made your way past her parents and entered the hospital room. The pungent smell of antiseptic hit your nose. You cringe, eyes screwing shut for a second before you proceeded to sit in the creaky plastic chair.
“Hi, my love.” You greeted her tearfully, carefully picking up her fragile hand. “I’m very sorry for the choice I had to make for you, I could only save one of you and I know you asked me to but I’m so sorry. Please don’t blame yourself for it, please don’t do that. Like you said, we can always try again. But it was worth it because you’re still here with me. You’re still going to be here with me - we’ll continue to go through life together and nothing mattered more to me than making sure you were okay and didn’t suffer for more than you had to.”
You pressed a tender kiss to her hand then let it go to brush the hair out of her face, “Thank you for being so strong and fighting for yourself. I love you so very much, Janis.”
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ilovedthestars · 4 months
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honestly the biggest Competing Access Needs issue that I personally have run into in online spaces is this:
people need, deserve, and should have space to complain and critique. that includes critiquing things that I (and they!) care about and find valuable, in order to make them better. those conversations are often necessary and healthy, and they should be allowed to happen.
however, I find those kinds of conversations incredibly stressful, often outright upsetting. especially when it involves people I like/respect arguing with or criticizing other people I like/respect. my instinct is to try to mediate and smooth things over and acknowledge the points of both sides, but often that’s either not my place to do or would be actively unhelpful. so I just end up torn in the middle of what feels to me like a barrage of negativity, filled with the unhelpful desire to be like “can’t we just all get along????”
the only and best solution to this is for me to just remove myself from conversations like these, and I’ve gotten better at that, but. It’s still difficult for me to deal with, even though I know that despite my hangups, it’s sometimes better for those conversations to happen than not.
#stars rambles#yes this is partly about convos that have happened on discord but I want ppl to know that I’m not @ing anyone specific about this#like i don’t think anyone’s in the wrong here#even though I would like to avoid any semblance of conflict. I know that would be bad for other people#but I did want to say this because I feel like. idk. in the moment the best thing I can do is shut up and walk away#so I wanted to express this outside of that very charged context#it’s not just about discord to be clear#sometimes it’s about things I see on Tumblr (or complaints on Tumblr that have been exported from discord)#sometimes it’s about irl organizations that I’ve been a part of where I’m like#I love this space deeply#and I know it has flaws and that there should be room for critique#but I want to defend what I love about it#this is definitely an area for personal growth for me too#but it’s not gonna go away overnight#and i've also seen it come up with other people in ways that just aren't avoidable#sometimes you love something and want to talk about how you love it#and someone else is annoyed by it and wants to talk about that#and there's no easy way for both of those conversations to happen in a way that doesn't hurt someone#and i don't feel like that kind of competing need is one that i see brought up a lot#anyway#vent#drafted this and left it to sit and now i am queuing it for the future so it will not seem associated with any one conversation#because it's not really about one thing#q2q
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forbodium · 6 months
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i'm going to petsit at my aunt's house tonight and i'm so sad they declawed the youngest cat
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urbanbirdbud · 1 year
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it’s been. a very rough afternoon
#fun to know that even while in the midst of my worst disassociative episode in the past year I can still cobble together a good meme#anyways um. about to tear down literally everything I ever derives joy from in my room and put into storage and never speak more than needed#to my dad. I am. so so tired. every time I think things are looking up and I can relax in my own home something has to happen#and then I need to slowly rebuild any safety I felt beforehand. I hate knowing my stuff was looked through and I dont know to what extent#anyways yeah. yearly deeply oversharing personal post over. gonna go hide literally half of my mortal possessions in a box somewhere#personal#no rblogging etc etc#edit: having another breakdown bear w me#I’ve scraped myself down to nothing for peace in my family I grovel and shut up and bear it fucking all and even then#they have the fucking audacity to ask me more? to put away the few reminders I have of people who love me things I enjoy#and the friendships Ive held onto like a dying man does to water?#they say they care about my mental health and how the devil affects everyone insidiously. I think they should take a long deep look#in the fucking mirror. open their eyes to how fucking close I was to just. giving up while I was suffocating under the veil of religion#and no before anyone asks I’m not gonna do anything stupid. I’m not one to live for spite but I trudge on hoping to get somewhere better.#just gonna have a short cry before bottling it up and dealing w it ten yrs down the road. not gonna go thru another ‘check in’ to lose more#oops forgot my little tag ->#ubb chirps
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yuukiiqwq · 10 days
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Satoru was confident that you liked him back. He was positive. He had no doubt in his mind that you were going to be his pretty little wife. Is he getting ahead of himself? Sure, he is, but he's that confident. That's until he noticed how he hadn't received any chocolate from you.
It was Valentine's Day, and he still hasn't received any chocolate from you. Yeah, he had a mountain worth of chocolate from all those people who gave him it, but where was yours? He couldn't find it anywhere. He was sure that would have placed your chocolate on his desk since you hadn't given him his. He double no triple checked all the chocolates, yet he could not find the one that has your pretty little name written on it. He continued to search through the chocolate pile for the fourth time today.
He must have missed it, right? Or did someone steal it? He swear he's going to hunt that person to the end of the Earth. Who dared to steal something that was rightfully his?
"Satoru, calm down."
He looked up at his best friend, who was trying to hold down a laugh at his panic.
"She'll probably give it to you later. The day just begun."
Right. Suguru is right. You'll give him his chocolate later. He's a good boy. He can wait.
That's what he told himself, but Suguru and Shoko have already received theirs this morning, and his is still nowhere to be found. Where is his chocolate? You're just sitting there in your seat, looking all pretty as if Satoru is not going through a huge dilemma because of you.
He couldn't help his hands that kept inching itself closer to the chocolate you gave Suguru. He wouldn't know if he snatched it, right? Suguru had received a lot of chocolate! He wouldn't know if he took it... was what he convinced himself before Suguru slapped his hand away.
"Satoru," he sighs.
"But Suguru!!!" Satoru whined as he sunk down into his seat.
"Be patient. You'll get yours soon."
But how soon is soon? Satoru isn't exactly known for his patient.
It was the end of the day, and still no chocolate from you. He asked Suguru and Shoko to leave first because he thought you would finally give it to him when both of you were alone. But you haven't. Where was his chocolate?
The two of you were approaching the exit of school, so Satoru made a quick decision, grabbing your wrist and pulling you into an empty classroom. He quickly shut the door and locked it.
"Satoru?" You asked in confusion. "What's wrong?"
"My chocolate."
"Your chocolate?"
"My chocolate from you! The symbol of your love towards me!"
"I didn't make you any," you replied smoothly. "Forgot to make them yesterday, so I woke up early today to make them, but I guess not early enough. I only had time to finish Shoko's and Suguru's. I didn't have time to make yours. Otherwise, I would have been late."
Satoru swear the world just ended. He looked down at his chest because he swears his heart ripped out of his chest at your words. Nope. Still alive. Why is he still alive in this cruel world? You had no chocolate for him? None? Not even a crumb?
"That's fine with you, right? I mean, you got a bunch of chocolate from other girls! You don't need mine."
He swear he is about to burst into tears. He didn't care about other girls. He didn't care about their chocolate. He wanted yours. How could you be so cruel and deny him of your chocolate? To reject him like this? He was devastated. No. Beyond devastated. Where is the closest cliff so he can jump off?
Pure silence radiated the room as Satoru tried to comprehend this horrible situation. Then he heard a small giggle slip pass your lips. That small giggle soon turns into a full-out laugh.
"You should have seen the look on your face, Satoru," you say as you try to stop laughing.
Was this funny to you? Why were you laughing at his suffering? Do you know how much he looked forward to today? To receive the cute little wrapped up chocolate you made for him? He dreamed of today, and you didn't have chocolate for him?
He then sees you reach into your bag and pull out exactly what he had imagined. A cute little chocolate box wrapped up in a baby blue color with a touch of white ribbon to finish it off. Fuck. He thinks he just got a heart attack seeing your chocolate. His chocolate.
"Princess, please don't joke like that to me ever again. You scared me half to death. I was going to jump off a cliff," he whined as he took the chocolate from your hand.
You couldn't help but roll your eyes at his dramatic behavior. "Stop being dramatic, Satoru. It's just chocolate."
A look of offense dawned his face as you utter those horrendous words to him.
"Chocolate? Just chocolate?" He huffed at you. He can't believe you as you treat this amazing god send gift as just chocolate. "Don't you dare call this just chocolate! This! This right here is proof of your undying love towards me!"
You laughed at his antics– "You're getting ahead of yourself, Satoru."
He delicately placed the chocolate safety away in his bag, treating it as a prized possession. He's looking forward towards white day. He already knows what he wants to get for you. He pulled you into a hug, nuzzling his face against your neck as he mutters– "You won't be saying that after I wife you up."
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faexoxoxoxo · 3 months
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My Love Mine All Mine...
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Pairing : Alpha!Gojo Satoru x fem!Omega reader
Warning : 18+, breeding kink,...
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Alpha! Satoru who always laughed at the idea of soulmates and destined lovers, considered himself too free-spirited to ever get saddled down with such a domestic way of life.
Alpha! Satoru who's famously known for leaving a trail of broken hearts in his wake, "not my fault they get attached..." Was the response he'd give whenever asked about the way he treated the woman who fell for him.
Alpha! Satoru who gets annoyed every time the clan elders force him to attend the yearly moon festival, where unmated members of different clans would gather in hopes of finding their mate, a tradition he has no interest in, but regardless is made to partake in every year.
Alpha! Satoru who stands in a corner alone trying to avoid all the desperate omegas who usually swarm towards him, each attempting to convince him they were meant to be his mate.
Alpha! Satoru who feels his whole body tense up when he catches a whiff of an intoxicating smell in the air, one that causes the logical part of his brain to shut down as a more predatory side of him surfaces.
Alpha! Satoru whose eyes frantically searches the area as he makes his way around the large room, shoving and passing the people in his way, heart pounding furiously in his chest while he tries to pinpoint the location of the scent.
Alpha! Satoru who gets a rush of excitement when he finally finds the source of the delectable aroma, you.
Alpha! Satoru who approaches slowly, scanning you from head to toe, taking in every little detail.
Alpha! Satoru who knows you're his mate, the other half of his soul, he doesn't know what to feel, never having wanted this, yet can't bring himself to turn away from you as the surge of desire to claim you on the spot washes over him.
Alpha! Satoru who lets out a low warning growl, as he sees you take a step back, standing behind your friends, his eyes narrowed as if to say, "Don't even think about running away from me." Striding forward, his presence was enough for your friends to back down, giving you an apologetic look before leaving you alone with Satoru.
Alpha! Satoru who noticed the change in your scent, how it went from sweet to sour, making him regret how aggressively he behaved. The last thing he ever wanted was to spook his little mate away. "No need to be afraid, princess," he attempted to ease your worries. "Promise I won't bite, unless you want me to..." he adds playfully, hoping to make you see he wasn't a threat.
Alpha! Satoru who sighs in relief when you nod, accepting his apology, a soft smile on your face as you agree to let him court you. "You won't regret this, princess !" He grinned, pulling you close and nuzzling into the crook of your neck.
Alpha! Satoru who goes above and beyond to prove he's the perfect mate for you, pulling out all the stops by sending you flowers and presents, taking you on little dates whenever he's free, and showering you with affection. His gentle attitude towards you, shocking everyone who'd known the old him. No one could've imagined a day would come when the Gojo Satoru would behave like a lovesick teenager.
Alpha! Satoru whose love for you, grows deeper and deeper with each passing day, and with it, so does his possessiveness. Every once in a while, his instincts scream at him to rip out the throats of anyone other than him who gets close to you.
Alpha! Satoru who gets even more clingy when your heat approaches, finding it harder to keep his hands to himself, especially when you smell so damn good, it's like you're begging him to fuck his pups into you.
Alpha! Satoru who forgets all restraint the moment he gets a call from you begging for him to come home as your heat started earlier than expected, "please...please...please alpha need you in me so bad it h..hurts..." The words had him racing back home, business could wait, right now; he needed to be balls deep inside his precious mate.
Alpha! Satoru who walked into your bedroom and saw you, curled into the sheets, humping a pillow, trying to get some relief, but the moment you see him, you'd abandoned that instead getting up to pull him into your nest.
Alpha! Satoru who planned to take it nice and slow knowing this was your first time ever having cock inside you, but before he could get to prepping your virgin cunt, you'd unbuckled his belt, taking out his throbbing shaft, and slipped him inside your sopping pussy, but then bursting into tears at the feeling of getting stretched out, droplets of blood staining his cock.
Alpha! Satoru who hushes you, "Told you not to be impatient, princess...see what happens when you don't listen to daddy...It's okay, I got you..." he takes over, flipping you on your back, his hands working around your body, trailing kisses down your neck to distract you from the pain as he's slowly rocking back and forth, trying to get you used to the feeling of his cock.
Alpha! Satoru who loses himself to the sensation of your tight warm hole sucking him in, the feeling of his tip bullying your sweet spot with his rough thrusts, making you moan, once pain now turned to pleasure, your hips moving up to meet his, legs wrapped around his waist as your fingers dug into his back, drawing blood, earning a grunt from Satoru, who loved it whenever you played a little rough with him.
Alpha! Satoru who's lost count of how many times he had you creaming around his cock, not planning on stopping until he's given you every last drop of his cum in his balls, the image of you swollen heavy with his pups making him pound into you with a ruthless pace, watching the mixture of your juice and his seed dribbling on to the bed.
Alpha! Satoru who doesn't pull out even after you're both done, "good girl...gotta keep daddy's load inside to make sure it takes..." he coos, wrapping his arms around your exhausted frame as you drift into sleep, his fingers rubbing your swollen cum filled tummy, silently promising to forever keep you and your future pups safe...
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A/N - it's 3am and I'm done lol not sure how well i worded all the words but it was my first time writing for gojo so hope everyone who reads enjoys this !
Thinking of maybe writing something something for geto soon soooo stay tuned...
Vampire Suguru fic
Likes, comments and reblogs are very appreciated <3
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deadsetobsessions · 7 days
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Sea Cryptic! Danny AU- Pt. 7
[Pt.1] [Pt.2] [Pt.3] [Pt.4] [Pt.5] [Pt.6]
“I’m having a child.”
Danny stared at Batman.
“…Uh, congrats?”
Batman whips out a stack of paper and a pen. “It’s you. Sign here and initial the highlighted spots.”
Danny instinctively, from years of dealing with Vlad, whacked the stack right out of Batman’s hands and into the bay. He doesn’t even feel bad about littering this time because, “Begone, fruitloop!”
Wait, no, that’s not what he meant.
“I mean- I have parents!”
“Not for long.” Batman muttered and then did a double take. “You have parents? How?”
Danny gasped, placing a hand on his chest to clutch his metaphorical pearls. He ignored Batman’s mutters. Everyone knows the vigilante has an adoption problem. At least, everyone who lived in Gotham did, as everyone who didn’t was somehow convinced that he “worked alone” or some bullshit like that. “Are you naturally this insensitive or were you dropped on your head as a baby? Obviously I had to come from somewhere.”
“They’re still… alive?”
“And kicking,” Danny said, inching away from yet another rich weird guy trying to adopt him. “Mostly the kicking part, though.” He said, remembering the sparring sessions. His mom could kick his as six ways to Sunday with nothing but jiu-jitsu and still have time to work in the lab.
“I see.”
“I’m charging you extra for the emotional upheaval. I have trauma regarding rich people trying to adopt me.”
Batman sullenly handed over a thousand.
“Sweet. There’s a group of shades down here asking if you could find their murderer. Apparently the serial killer is still at large.” Danny pointed.
“Of course. Tell me everything.”
The adoption papers disappeared as Batman went into detective mode.
Danny shoved the cash into his glowing chest and breathed a sigh of relief. He needed to make rent this month so it was a windfall running into Batman.
——
“Hey, Tim?”
Tim woke up from his Power Nap. “Huh?”
“Phantom’s complaining that Batman kept trying to adopt him.”
Tim blinked. “Uh.. what does that have to do with me?”
Danny stared at him, a patiently amused smile on his face. “Just in case the rumor about the Wayne’s sugar-daddy-into the Bats was a thing. Other than that, we might have to confront Batman to get him off of Phantom’s back. ”
“You… want to confront Batman.”
“Hey, man, Phantom’s a friend and it’s ride or die.” Danny snickered. It was literally die, with his Phantom side of things. He held two fists up, and wound them, like Popeye right after eating spinach or something. “And if Batman bothers Phantom, we ride at dawn.”
“Batman doesn’t come out unless it’s dark, though? Or for the Justice League.” Tim grinned. He mentally classified Danny under his “to go to” list. That’s where Bart, Bernard, Cassie, Kon, and Garfield were. If he starts shit, he could count on them to have his back and cause even more shit. Danny, wanting to fistfight Bruce over the man making Phantom uncomfortable? He absolutely is making that list.
“Then we ride at, like, dusk. Or uh, like 10PM. I gotta get my beauty sleep.”
“You’ll definitely need it,” Tim inconspicuously texted the group chat, which quickly blew up.
“Shut up,” Danny playfully shoved Tim. “Wait, can Batman even legally adopt? Isn’t being a vigilante illegal? And how can he adopt someone dead?”
Tim dramatically flailed and splayed over Danny’s carpeted living room. “Dunno about his identity,” he lied to Danny, like a liar. “But Gotham has a bunch of laws for the undead/restored to life people so there’s probably enough gray space there.”
Danny spluttered. “You guys have undead friendly laws?”
“Yeah, geht do you think Grundy just chills out? Plus, we have like a minor resurrection event every few years. It usually doesn’t stick but sometimes it does. Bruce pushed for those laws when Jason came back to life, except he doesn’t actually want people to know he’s like, alive.”
“Jason died?” Danny blinked. Well, that would explain the vibes. “Huh. So what’s up with his rank vibes then?”
“Rank vibes?” Tim pressed record on his phone.
Danny nodded. “Yeah, you know how Phantom’s got like a really chill green vibe?” Inwardly, Danny snickered at his pun. Chill. Yeah, he meant that very literally. “Jason’s got kind of a rank green vibe. He’s kind of stinky? Definitely never introduce him to Phantom.” Danny’s senses got worse in his ghost form.
“Jason regularly showers, though?!”
“Not smell! Like, a spiritual smell?”
“You can smell souls?!” Tim sat up. “Bro, you’re a meta?!”
“Uh.” Danny hesitated. “Yeah. I can smell souls. It’s a thing. Everyone from my town can do it.”
“What?!” Tim paused. “Wait, can Phantom smell souls?”
“Yeah. We’re, uh, from the same town.”
“Danny, what the fuck?”
“Hey, don’t look at me like that, you’re the one with a soul-sick brother! Not to mention, you’re kinda stinky too!”
“Hey!”
“Soul-stinky nerd man!”
——
“I stink?!” Jason spluttered out, extremely offended.
“The Lazarus pits. He’s most likely smelling traces of Lazarus pit on you, you imbecile.”
“We need to speak to Phantom. This instant.”
“I dunno, B. Danny sounded like he was gonna break your face if you bothered Phantom anymore.” Dick snickered.
“Yeah,” Tim chimed in, from his seat in front of the Bat-computer. “He was pretty serious.”
“Are we just gonna glaze over the fact that they’re from the same town?!” Stephanie exclaimed, practicing her moves on a training dummy.
“How does that even work? What does that mean? I thought Phantom was an immortal?” Duke asked.
“We also can’t rule out time-travel.” Barbara slammed her baton into a training dummy, twisting her wheelchair in an agile maneuver that left the dummy on the floor.
“No bothering Phantom.” Cass proclaimed.
“That’s quite right. You all have a warm dinner sitting above your cave and should it remain uneaten, I assure you that sherbet Sunday and crêpe Tuesday shall be canceled.” Alfred stepped in. The Bats, threatened, scrambled to ditch their gear and go upstairs.
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leclsrc · 7 months
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wanna be nearer ✴︎ mv1
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genre: 18+, fuck buddies ahhhaha, smut, porn w/o plot basically...
word count: 3.6k  
It seems every time you tell yourself to stop, Max comes back into your life and all sense of resolve crumbles. title from this
auds here… hiii :) req'd by SO MANY PEOPLE i can't even start compiling all the asks hahah but if u asked for this here it is! writing's been tuff for me lately but this was the one thing i could continue daily (weird) also there is a case to be made re: max's hottest pictures being like 1 pixel in resolution... hope u all like it!!!
nsfw warnings under the cut!
18+ because... sexual tension, penetrative sex, some vague sexting/a sex tape being watched, praise/dirty talk central, size kink, unprotected sex, handjob (f receiving), max being a meanie
It’s busy today. You haven’t seen him all day. 
To be fair, you weren’t necessarily looking—not at first, anyways. How many days had it been since the last time, now? The one in your hotel room? Almost two weeks, you think. The real answer’s blurry in your head, especially when you count the close calls, but this should be a record for you two at this point. Neither of you acknowledge that the only reason you’ve been so good at staying away from each other is because when you’re not roped into the same media junket, you avoid each other at all costs.
The media pen is full; everybody’s shoulder-to-shoulder because a few other networks bought their way into the space for the Singapore race. Right when your mind settles back into the focus of work, though—
“Here,” he says, his voice rough and tickling your ear. You nearly stumble forward, shocked at how his voice almost vibrates through you, a low trill that ripples top to bottom.
His hand settles at the small of your back, like his verbal confirmation wasn’t enough on its own; it’s big and his thumb rubs softly at the smooth strip of skin in-between your low skirt and your top. “Passing through.”
“Sure,” you say, dry. “Sorry.” You clear your throat and cant backwards into his touch—briefly, before you step forward and allow him to pass fully. Across you, Lissie looks up from her phone and you sense her trying to gauge why you’re so close to Max.
You blink and wait for him to disappear, wondering what you’ll tell her—how, more like. How the conversation even opens. How you’d phrase the truth, which in itself is a horribly grey area. Well, Lis, if you must know, Max and I have casual sex. A lot. It’s actually not very casual. We stopped now, but—yes, Max. That Max, yes. 
“What about Max?”
Your eyes snap upward and then to your left, where you can see Max’s figure disappearing into a crowd of engineers. They return to Lissie and you feign confusion to mask panic. “What?”
“You were spacing out and then suddenly said his name.” She presses the tip of her pen onto her chin, humming. She doesn’t look at you and you thank God for it—eye contact would’ve rattled the truth out of you in seconds.
“I…” You shake your head. “I was irritated with—I’ve been irritated with him all morning. It’s. Yeah.”
“Oh,” she says, nodding, looking away for a second but not pausing. “Oh, okay. D’you wanna go over this edit again?”
The stale air of his hotel room, alleviated only by the vaguely fragrant linen spray they use when he’s out, is what greets Max when he arrives in the afternoon.The first thing he does—the only task he’d even thought of en route here—after the door clicks shut is pull up his Messages app and type.
Just got to hotel. He tosses his phone onto the bed while he waits, tugs his cap off and rakes reckless fingers through his hair. His new stylist’s got him onto jeans that don’t “look painted on” (you once said, verbatim), but he’d rather die than lounge in denim, so he swaps them out for just his Calvins.
His mind’s lethargic, but even his version of lethargic is high-drive for others—his brain has the silly tendency to work in absolute overdrive. He itches for a drink and orders a Scotch on the telephone. He checks his phone, which is lying facedown still, and as soon as he picks it up it chimes with your reply.
OK, nice. Did u need something?
No, just wanted to let you know. He hits send, then adds another. You’re off @ 8?
Ended early, I’m in the car. He’s in the middle of drafting a response when you send a follow-up.
I thought we agreed no contact unless business
He scoffs out a dry laugh. Despite himself, he reads the text in your voice, his brain completing the image of the bossy tone with crossed arms and a wickedly arched brow. In response he types: Can’t even update a friend nowadays? I am very tired you know.
Rules are rules, he reads. Then, Get some rest.
Yeah. Got a drink.
I said rest, not drink. Even then he can hear the exasperation in your voice.
How was work? I hurt a muscle doing training. That’s why I’m at the hotel early.
Feel better soon, you send. Had some press stuff today. Boring shit
Yeah? I missed you today.
Really?
A lot. He hums and leans backward, lets his head settle into the pillow, the smell of the linen spray consuming his nostrils. He waits for his phone to buzz, vibrate softly on the hard surface of his chest. It does, after a few minutes, after he’s let his eyes shut and let himself rest them for a bit, after the room service comes knocking and gives him the Scotch he’d requested while ago.
He’s back sitting on his bed when it vibrates. He picks it up and reads: How much?
You’re awfully easy to rile up. He smiles around the rim of his glass—he knows exactly where this is heading. 
So much I think I’ll watch some videos of us.
The only caveat of casual sex as two people who essentially dislike each other is the fact that it’s all under wraps—which means if you two try to sneak off together, or are even caught in the same vicinity, people raise suspicions. And that means there are weeks where you barely get to fuck.
And that means you both grow antsy for it. He makes fun of you for being needy, when you’re tipsy and palming at the denim of his jeans or when you bend over when you know he’s looking. But the truth is he grows needy for it, too, craves you like you’re all that matters—he gets extra handsy, drops another innuendo when he knows you’re listening. There is a case to be made that he’s worse, in fact, because fans sometimes skirt around his words and wonder why he sounds so flirty when you’re the reporter in the room.
It was difficult but eventually he found a minor workaround: sometimes he films the two of you. There’s none of those propping his phone up kind of stuff, he just fishes for it in the middle of fucking you so he can store it for himself. It’s locked on his phone and he only has a few (the few has grown in number lately), but God it gives him release when he needs it and you’re not there.
I’ll call you when I’m at the lobby, comes the response. It’s always futile, the attempts to stay away from each other.
He pulls up the folder and lets his eyes skate over the thumbnails, squeezes himself through his boxers. Fuck. He can’t seem to decide what he wants to watch—the ones of you sucking him off, the ones of his fingers stretching you out. He recalls the whine in your voice in each of them, the pleads that escaped you for him to fuck you harder.
So Max, for the life of him, can’t even count how many times these videos have made him cum. But there’s one he hasn’t seen yet—the one he took the night before you two parted. You’d become extra needy on this night, preceding the season, he supposes, the separation. You already were anticipating the deprivation, starved for him more than usual. He’d have kissed you pretty, given you one orgasm after another and still you’d want more. And on this night it was you who asked him to film, you who wanted all of them on tape, so you’d both have something to tide you over until he got to fuck you again.
He pulls his cock out and strokes over it. And with his other hand, he presses his thumb on that video.
In it he’s fucking you in the dark, keeping the phone’s flashlight on your pussy as he sinks his cock into you. When he pulls back out the light reflects on the slick coating his dick, makes it glisten. It looks so wet, sounds so wet, with each thrust into you. He remembers just how it feels; he imagines that he’s back in your bed, fucking you again; that his fist is your pussy, and the spit lubricating it is the wetness that’s drooling out of you on camera.
He can see how tight you are—the way your pussy grips the shaft each time he pulls his cock out, greedy for him. Just like you.
The two of you were supposed to be quiet, too. You were at a hotel, your room beside another driver’s; you were supposed to be careful not to stir anyone. But your moans are louder than he remembers; so is the way you say, breathily, between gasps, Right there, Maxie, m’so close. Max inhales through his teeth, his cock throbbing at that—that Maxie, the cute little whimper out your mouth.
He strokes himself faster, watches the way your fingers slip into frame to rub at your clit, his thrusts getting sloppier and sloppier. He can see, hear—feel how wet you are, the sound of your cunt growing wetter with every thrust. He hears his own voice again, mutter out So good for me, yeah? And your babbled affirmation in response.
You cum hard, your slick getting everything wet and shiny and Max watches himself cum next. His dick’s already spurting when he pulls out and lets himself release on your lower stomach, some of it shooting onto your tits. He blinks, anchors himself back, quickens his wrist and digs his heels into the bed to keep himself from coming. Just a second longer. He knows what comes next and he needs to see it.
Like clockwork, he watches two of your fingers swipe through his cum, bringing them up to your lips. You blink up at the camera and smile. Quit it, your lips mouth, pink and cum-slick. Put it down, Maxie… fill me up again. He releases in weak spurts over his fist, a damp, flushed grunt escaping him as he does. He feels like the air’s been knocked out of him.
His phone rings and he presses it to his ear. “Hey, angel. Come on up.”
One week later
“Vodka,” you say to the bellboy when you get to the elevator. “To my hotel room. Very cold. Please. And thank you.”
The guy scurries off to fetch it for you, and five minutes and one elevator ride later, you're wrestling himself into your room, flexing your sore foot. Japan does hotel rooms well. The leather of your Manolo digs into your foot the way it does after you’ve walked the entire day and you can feel a blister forming on the back of your right heel but it doesn’t really matter, you guess, if you’re already home. Hotel-home, anyway.
You expect to find solace lounging on your bed, waiting out the hours to your morning briefing for the race and throw back a glass or two of vodka. 
Instead, you find Max on your couch. He’s sipping ice-cold vodka—your ice-cold vodka.
“Hey, pretty,” he says. “Good vodka. I got staff to wire my FIFA on the TV.”
You just stare. “My TV. What,” you say, your eyes spotting the bottle of frosty vodka by his glass, “are you doing here?”
“I hadn’t seen you all day and I wanted to,” he explains simply. “Do you want food or something?”
“Food? I—nevermind,” you shrug. You’re frozen by the door, only just warmed now from the cold air that bit at your bare legs. “Max, how long have you been here?”
“Since Will Buxton started the post-FP debrief,” he huffs. He fiddles with the remote in his grip and extends it to the TV, where FIFA comes to life. “Aw, come on, angel. I know, I know. No sex and all that. I just like your company, you know?”
“Please. Go fuck yourself,” you scoff, toeing off your shoes and wiping your hands on the fabric of your skirt. He says one thing but you expect another—it’s only natural, given all the other times one of you had failed to keep a similar promise. But still you walk yourself beside him, fix the strap of your short dress, and allow him to pour you a drink.
“You know what I’ve been thinking about lately?” He asks absently. “About how you’re always having these talks with me about… about not having sex anymore, but you never even last two days.” He raises you the glass. “What is it, relapsing?”
“Fuck you,” you mutter. “It’s only because you keep trying to get me all hot and bothered.” You recall each time: in Monaco, in Madrid, in France. “Maybe if you got off my back once in a while, we’d be back to normal.”
He shrugs. “You just don’t have strong resolve.”
“Excuse me?” You scoff, irritation scratching at your throat.
“Wanna test that out? Come play.”
Your eyes flit over to the bright screen, all exhaustion cleared from your system. An animated Kylian Mbappe kicks a football in a loop. “Fine. One round and you’re out of my room.” He throws his hands up in surrender and you make a move to sit next to him. Max puts his hands out towards you then, nodding. You mistake it for some handshake, accept them, and then he’s wrangle you onto his lap facing outward. You feel your pulse at your throat as he pulls you tight against him.
“This is cheating,” you say, your voice dry.
“You got it wrong. Teaching.”
He moves his fingers atop yours, explaining what to press, what goes where, what to do for this or that. He can smell your perfume, hear your stilted breaths, and when he peeks over your shoulder he can see where your dress falls loose, showing the lace of your bra and your tits underneath them.
If he had it his way, he’d hike your dress up and have you ride him. But he’s given you a challenge.
You play a practice round and end up scoring a few goals, fingers making quick work of the buttons. Behind you, Max watches, content, answering your questions when you ask them hurriedly—how do I do this? That? Did I just score?
You score once, then twice, then three times, and before you know it you’re scoring in quick succession. The game is fun—it’s easy. If Max was trying to give you a hard time, he failed. You grow determined, competitive within seconds (something he really should’ve anticipated), and you’re scoring goals with skill that you’d confidently say rivals Max’s.
Max. You almost—almost forget he’s there, and then you sit up straighter and you’re hit with the sensation of his dick pressing into your ass. You inhale sharply and the controller clatters to the floor.
“You okay, pretty?” His hand comes up to rest on your knee, inching closer and closer with every hitch of your breath. Your hand, now free of the controller, seizes his, stopping it right at the middle of your thigh. 
“I’m fine.”
“Yeah? You look stressed.” He doesn’t move. “You were so close, too, weren’t you?” The score stares you right in the face: 4-5. “Maybe you just need to get your mind off it.” It’s so bullshit, so extremely obvious, but he’s right in your ear and his hand is so near where you’ve missed its presence.
You’re usually competitive. You can usually hold your ground. But with this and him—
“Maybe,” you breathe, loosening your grip. He spreads his legs, spreading yours in the process, and brings his hand closer, running slender fingers over the lace material of your underwear until you’re squirming. It grows damper the more he touches, your mouth hanging open with stunted whimpers.
“You always come back to me, schatz, don’t you,” he says, whispers against your ear. You wrench a moan out. “Remember the first time? You interviewed me in Abu Dhabi… you teased me the whole day and begged to come thrice in my room. The time in Monaco you touched yourself to me when I was in the next room. The time we almost hooked up in Miami…” He groans, to himself more than you. “You’re a dirty girl.” He’s curling two fingers inside of you now, grazing against the sweet spot pulls the most delicious moans out of your innocent mouth.
“Every time… you go, that was the last time.” While your mind recaps the memories he’s busy spelling into your ear, Max’s fingers are curling inside of you against that sweet spot just right, and your moans are getting louder and louder.
“Fuck,” he huffs, watching your flushed face get more and more euphoric.
“Aw, pretty, look at that,” Max laughs. He’s looking at your thighs, watching the way they tense and shake as his fingers stroke your g spot. Each pump and curl into your twitching pussy feels better and better, and your dripping walls are starting to clench around his fingers.
“Wait, I—I can’t,” you pant, lolling your head onto his shoulder and involuntarily bucking your hips upward. 
“Yeah you can,” he orders. “It’s so easy to get you to cum, isn’t it? Or is that just for me? The driver you hate the most?” He laughs. “Get all wet for the guy you couldn’t care less about. Say you hate me and get my dick nice and wet the next day.” You’re grinding onto his three fingers now, shameless with it.
“Are you gonna cum?” He asks.
“Oh,” you whine. “Yeah, fuck—yes.”
“Tell me what you’re gonna do,” he says wickedly. You can hear him smile.
“I’m gonna—please—I’m gonna cum,” you pant, tension coming to a halt and then bursting all at once out of you. His other arm holds your hips down against him, and you spend a minute and another twitching, your skin sticky with sweat and slick.
It’s not long before you’re whirled back to face him, your hands making quick work of his jeans. It’s a skill you’ve both mastered, the art of the quickie—in closets, hotel rooms, with sweaty, open-mouthed kisses pressed along the column of your throat, moans swallowed. 
He hikes your dress up and your panties to the side, immediately bullies his cock into you—the glide is slow, but easy. You’re so fucking wet.
“Fucking big,” you gasp out. “Jesus, Jesus—fuck.” Your head drops and presses against his; he uses the opportunity to kiss you. You moan into it, feeling the stretch, your slick wetness dragging down the length of him as he thrusts up, up, further. “Been a while.”
“Feel good, though, yeah?” Your toes curl and you nod; you’re flushed all over and you need him to hurry up. You grind downward, onto him. He does, then, fucks you hard and fast, like he’s thirsted for this for way longer than he did. You’re squirming, all wet, and it tempts him to go harder. Your face is shiny with sweat, lips drawn in between your teeth.
“Slo—slow down,” you manage, babbling; he doesn’t, speeding up his thrusts until you’re moaning his name. “Max—wait—fuck, you’re so mean,” you whine, wrapping your arms around him and letting him take control. 
“You’re fine,” he grunts, pulling out almost all the way. “You take my dick so well, schatz, every fucking time. Don’t you?”
“I do,” you gasp out, and he’s slamming into you gain. You cry out loudly, sniffling from the overstimulation—you’d barely recovered from your initial orgasm and already you’re hurtling into what feels like three at the same time. 
“For someone who doesn’t like me,” he sneers, “you sure do moan like a slut, huh?”
His words get you more turned on than you’re willing to admit, but you shake your head.
“No?” He laughs, breathy from the effort. “Maybe I should film you now. Send it to your boss, let him see his stellar reporter’s getting Verstappen’s dick wet.” 
Finally, the tension building inside of you reaches a head, and your pussy starts to twitch around his dick. He notices, grunts sharply and leans forward, shuddering as he releases into you. Your moans are choked and tapering into whimpers as you release slick all over him, and you attempt to catch your breath, collapsing onto his still-clothed, now-sticky chest. You scratch at the dri-fit material and inhale him, the smell of his cologne, his sweat. You bite at his earlobe, laugh when he flinches.
“That,” you say into his skin, “was the last time.” It’s both seriously and as a joke, playing off of what he’d remarked earlier.
“Jesus, princess. I’m still inside you.” 
You giggle and drum lightly along the plane of his chest. In a few minutes he’ll pick you up to shower, but now you’re content to inhale him in. Quietly you wonder why you just can’t get enough of him—if you were in better senses, you’d have realized he was thinking the same thing about you.
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st-el-la-luna · 1 month
Text
Task Force 141 x Reader: Picture Day
NSFW 18+
When a guy keeps sending you unsolicited pictures, you impulsively reach out to your Task Force for help in an... Unconventional way.
→ harassment, non con receiving of nudes, asking for nudes, sending of nudes
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You don't want to do this. Really, it's not ideal. It's rash, and impulsive and, oh, right, insanely fucking stupid.
But, you're a spiteful person at heart. And, well, this would be the perfect response...
So, you open the Task Force group chat, type up a message and press send before you can stop yourself.
CorvidCorporal: hey guys
CorvidCorporal: can I ask a favour?
You don't have to wait long for a reply.
Captain Price: What is it, Corporal?
Ghost: No
DontDropthe: you know where to find me 😉
Gazoline: everything okay?
You sigh, type up another message, worrying your lip between your teeth.
CorvidCorporal: it's nothing serious
CorvidCorporal: just... weird
Captain Price: What is it?
Gazoline: weird how?
You bury your face in your hands for a moment, considering if you're really about to do this. Your phone buzzes again, a notification from a different chat. You open it and holy shit, another one? Hell no. You're going through with this.
You head back to the Task Force group chat.
DontDropthe: weird is my specialty
You can't believe you're doing this.
You type and retype the message a couple of times before eventually just pressing send. You shut your phone off, face burning, not wanting to think about what you just did.
CorvidCorporal: I need a dick pic
The little markers on the bottom of the screen indicating people are typing vanish then start up again. Vanish. Start up again. Vanish.
Oh, you're fucked.
What the hell were you thinking?! These were your coworkers! Your superiors! Your boss!
You scramble to explain yourself.
CorvidCorporal: forget I said anything!
CorvidCorporal: it's just this guy keeps sending me them unsolicited from different accounts because I keep blocking his ass
CorvidCorporal: I figured the best way to get him to stop would be to send one back
CorvidCorporal: you know a real power move
CorvidCorporal: just really blindside em
CorvidCorporal: but well... I lack the parts and if I were just to go to google the guy could easily figure that shit out
CorvidCorporal: it was stupid and impulsive and I'm so sorry I asked
CorvidCorporal: please don't fire me I need this job
CorvidCorporal: guys?
The entire chat is dead. But their icons show that each and everyone of them is still active. Even Ghost.
You curse yourself internally and knock your head against the wall. You shut your phone off and toss it away. Too overwhelming. Too much. You can't... Why did you do that?!
You sit on the foot of your bunk and mourn your career, face in your hands. Dishonorable discharge no doubt in your future... You're such an idiot!
Your phone buzzes from across the room. You ignore it.
Except it buzzes again. And again. And again. And–
By the seventh text tone you go to pick it up, almost feeling sick from the nasty knot of anxiety and dread in your gut.
You open the group chat.
You close the group chat.
Holy shit.
DontDropthe: see attachment
DontDropthe: see attachment
DontDropthe: see attachment
Gazoline: jesus christ soap
Gazoline: see (2) attachments
DontDropthe: see (3) attachments
Fif– sixteen pictures. Two from Gaz and fourteen from Soap.
Holy shit.
Your phone goes off again.
Captain Price: Let me know if you need anything else, Corporal
Captain Price: see (3) attachments
What the fuck?
Soap has moved on to sending you pictures directly. You dismiss a call from him in a blind panic. He immediately sends a video.
You type into the group chat with shaking hands.
CorvidCorporal: thanks
Gazoline: anytime
DontDropthe: it's only fair if you send them back
DontDropthe: i understand if your shy
DontDropthe: my doors unlocked
Captain Price: *you're
In the end, you got more than enough material to choose from.
Three from Price. Seven from Gaz. A whopping twenty nine from Soap.
You're still deciding on what picture to send (and on calming your racing heart and ignoring the growing heat between your thighs) when your phone goes off again.
Ghost: see attachment
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Please reblog to support my writing!
Comment to motivate!
masterlist!
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haetrack · 23 days
Text
no clue (l.mk)
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mark lee x fem!reader
wc: 11.6k
summary: mark realizes how long it’s been since he’s gotten laid, immediately heading to a party. he’s quick to find you, rushing into a room without really thinking about it. except now, he can’t stop thinking about you. how bad is it really if he ends up falling in love with his one night stand?
warnings: strangers to lovers, smut (MDNI), fluff, mild angst, one night stand, miscommunication and communication, reader is cautious, oral (both receiving), missionary, desperation, dirty talk, dry humping, softdom!mark, sub!reader
heavily inspired by tongues - the frights
part two to the how it all goes series!
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mark doesn’t think he’s a person who acts on instinct.
he believes he at least has some self control. he won’t go out if he knows he has work to finish, knows his limits, and has pretty good time management if you ask him. he can control himself whenever he needs to, but he has his off days. everyone does.
which is why he can’t really explain how he ended up between your thighs.
he can hear the squelch of his fingers in your cunt, his mouth wrapped around your clit as he moans into you. your hands are threaded into his hair, moaning out his name, still unfamiliar on your tongue. he’s never really jumped into something like this before, but he can’t say he doesn’t like it. he really can’t, thoughts filled with only how good you taste.
he can feel how your thighs shake around him, trying to close shut when his fingers reach your sweet spot. he pries your legs apart, moving his mouth away from you to whine out, “need you to stop moving so much, wanna keep tasting you.”
he makes eye contact with you as he licks a stripe up your cunt, watching how your eyes flutter shut at the feeling. out of the people that mark’s been with, he thinks that you might be the sweetest person he’s tasted. he wouldn’t mind being in between your thighs, wouldn’t mind hearing all your pretty moans.
your hands make it to his hair, threading through the strands as he eats you out. you tug on it when something feels particularly good. he grunts against you, mouth sucking on your clit as the stinging pain makes his blood pump a little faster. all that he can hear are the lewd sounds of your cunt, the moans of his name, and his own breathing. “m-mark, i’m close. please don’t stop, you’re doing so good.”
he can’t slow down now, adding a third finger as he licks at your clit. he watches as your back arches, suddenly too aware of his dick straining against his pants. he tugs you close to his face, “need you to cum. want you to cum all over me so i can fuck your pretty pussy.”
he watches you nod, your hips rolling to meet his face as you moan out his name, hands gripping onto his hair as you cum. he hears himself let out an embarrassing moan, affected by your sounds and taste. he doesn’t stop his ministrations, helping you ride out your orgasm.
if he could, he’d spend all day here, licking up your cum as you cry out his name. with a tired laugh, you push his head away, almost enjoying the sad look on his face. your hand moves to cup the side of his face, “you did so good, mark. you want me to help you?”
his eyes widen a little, almost as if he wasn’t expecting anything to happen. you sit up, hands moving to unbutton and unzip his pants. his hands hover over yours, shaking as he watches you. “y-you’ll… you’ll suck me off?”
you pull his pants down to his thigh, “well, you did say earlier that you wanted to fuck me so… would you like to fuck me?”
he blinks at you, “really?”
“of course,” you laugh, “i know how bad you want to, and i know i want it, too. probably even more than you.”
you watch him scramble off the bed, taking off his pants as quickly as possible. he leaves his boxers on, making it back between the space between your thighs. you watch him slowly take his boxers on, watch how his cock slaps against his stomach. he’s leaking, and you wonder how exactly he’s held back for so long.
he strokes his length a few times, enjoying how you squirm around in impatience. he thinks you look cute like this, the thought dancing around in his head. he can’t keep himself away from you for too long, shifting closer to you. he rubs his length across your slit, letting your slick coat his cock.
your breath hitches when his tip hits your clit, mark leaning down to kiss you. you can taste yourself on his tongue, and you can feel how his hips continue to grind against your cunt. you can only take so much before you start begging, “mark, please. need you to fuck me already, need to feel you inside me already.”
he likes how pretty your voice sounds begging for him. it pushes him over the edge, moving to line himself at your entrance. he can feel how wet you are, his bottom lip caught between his teeth. he lets out a low groan as he pushes in, your tight walls taking all his thoughts away.
it’s been too long for him, fighting against himself as he goes as slowly as he can. he’s patient, even as your nails dig into his back. you’re letting out small whimpers, getting used to the stretch his cock offers you. he waits for you to get used to the feeling, even if his cock is twitching inside you.
when you tell him he can move, he experimentally thrusts against you. you feel too good, and he’s not sure how long he can last, especially with how long it’s been for him. at your whines, he tries setting a steady rhythm for you. his hips only stutter a bit when you clench around him, his eyes fluttering close.
you throw your head back when mark hits your sweet spot, and mark needs to hear all the pretty sounds you just made again. he grinds his hips as close as he can, eyes threatening to shut at how deep he feels inside you. his eyes watch where you two are connected, a thumb moving to your neglected clit.
one of your hands moves to grope at your own boob, rolling a nipple in between your fingers. mark needs to help you, he decides, quickly swatting your hand away as he moves his face to the valley of your chest. he takes a nipple into his mouth, hand rubbing over your other boob.
he’s all over you, every part of his body moving to make you cum. you lay there, practically sobbing at how good he’s making you feel. “keep going, mark! please don’t stop, need you so bad!”
your words make him dizzy, thrusts slowing to grind into you. he can feel how your slick has coated his thighs, how messy this all is. he doesn’t care, not when he gets to see you like this under him. you’re crying out for him, tears pricking at your eyes from how good he’s making you feel. he wouldn’t mind getting to see this everyday.
the thought quickly leaves him when you tell him you’re about to cum. your nails scrape along his back, surely leaving marks for him to see tomorrow. you’re clenching around him tightly, his hips fighting to keep moving. most importantly, you’re calling out his name so sweetly, almost as if he’s the only thing you can think of.
“y-yeah, you’re gonna cum all over my cock?” he stutters, “gonna make a mess all over me?”
“yes, please, mark, please keep going!”
it doesn’t take long for you to cum. he’s doing everything right, hitting every spot he could reach. you let go, a loud whimper leaving you as you roll your hips against him. he’s gripping onto your thighs, leaving bruises against your skin. you’re happy that you said yes to him, happy that you could have probably one of the best orgasms of your life.
mark cums soon after you, the image of you too much for him to handle. he groans out a fuck, enjoying the warmth of your pussy before pulling out. he jerks himself off quickly, noting how your bleary eyes watch him. he cums all over your pussy, watches how it drips down near your clenching hole.
he’s breathing heavily at the sight, hears your tired cry as you lay against the pillow of the bed. he’s not sure if he should go get something to clean you up or if he should just stay here with you. he’s sure he doesn’t want to leave just yet, enjoying the look of you so fucked out because of him.
not because he thinks you look pretty, even more so like this.
his thoughts are cut off by the way you call his name. there’s a smile on your face, and despite being tired, you tug at his arm to bring him down by you. he faces you, a pretty blush on his face. he never really knows how to end these kinds of things, not that he really has experience to think about.
it doesn’t feel awkward, but mark can’t stop thinking of too many things at once. he can’t just leave you like this, but wouldn’t it be weird to sleep next to you? you aren’t exactly a stranger, but he can’t call you a friend, or even an acquaintance. he barely knows you, knows your name and maybe one class you're taking. his mind itches to know more.
your hand brushes the stray hairs out of his face, and he realizes how much he likes the feeling. your hand twitches at your side, slowly reaching out to him to make him wrap an arm around your waist. it’s quiet when this happens, mark trying to decide whether he should say something or not.
you beat him to it, “you did so good. i’m glad i got to do this with you, mark.”
he’s silent for a few seconds, fingers moving up and down at your side, “i’m happy, too- i mean, like, doing this with you.”
you hum out, letting the conversation fade out as you snuggle into the sheets. you don’t mind that his arm is still wrapped around you as you try to sleep. you try not to pay attention to the satisfied sigh he lets out once he settles into the sheets. you’re not sure if you’ll see him again, and even if you do, you know you probably won’t be talking to him.
either way, you’ll be gone by the morning.
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mark can recall everything he did last night once he wakes up. it all flashes in his head before he’s fully conscious. 
he remembers walking up to you, probably too confident as he flirts with you. he remembers your smiling face as you lead him into an empty room, locking the door behind you as he presses you against the wall. he remembers how soft your lips were against his, how sweet you tasted, and how nice you felt wrapped around him.
most importantly, he remembers how good it felt to sleep next to you, how nice it felt to have you wrapped in his arms. but now, as he fights off sleep, he sees you’re not there next to him. he shouldn’t be surprised, it was only supposed to be a one time thing. but he can’t help how cold it feels in this bed that isn’t even his.
for just last night, this room was something that was shared between the two of you. now, it’s just a random room that he woke up alone in. well, he shouldn’t be too alone here knowing haechan is probably crashed out at this now quiet frat house. he gathers his clothes that are scattered across the room, slipping them back on.
they feel different now, suddenly too dressy for the morning. the door's unlocked when he gets to it, quietly opening it as he peers out into the hallway. there’s no one there, mark tiptoeing down the stairs as he looks around for haechan. as expected, he’s sleeping almost too peacefully on a stranger's couch. there’s other people there too, but mark can’t help but laugh at the sight of his friend.
he doesn’t bother being gentle with haechan, quickly shaking his shoulder to wake him up. haechan groans, and mark contemplates if he should just throw water on him. as if haechan could hear his thoughts, he shoots straight up, gasping for air like he just got revived from being dead. he looks at mark with wide eyes, practically gasping for air.
“are you alright, dude?”
“i’m… fine? i had the craziest nightmare that i was about to go down a waterfall.”
“how is that even-” mark just sighs, deciding not to question him, “let’s go already. let’s leave these poor people alone.”
haechan stumbles a bit when he gets up, dramatically letting himself cling onto mark’s shoulders. they walk about the house as if nothing happened, as if mark didn’t meet you in there. he drags out haechan, noticing how he’s staying surprisingly silent. mark doesn’t mind walking back to campus, not minding how pretty the blue sky above him looks.
suddenly, haechan says, “are you hungry?”
mark mulls on it before speaking, “i guess i could eat. you won’t get, like, sick or anything?”
“no,” haechan hums, “i’m actually feeling pretty good right now. i do wanna ask how you feel.” haechan raises his eyebrows suggestively at mark, causing mark to pull away from haechan, almost letting him fall to the ground.
“you are so weird.”
haechan laughs at that, “you’re acting like you won’t tell me all about it once we start eating.”
mark doesn’t deny it, trying to change the subject, “you’re paying, right?”
“no way! i took you to that party, you owe me!”
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mark ends up begrudgingly paying for both their meals. he probably would’ve paid either way, he thinks as he watches haechan gulf down his food. mark is slower, taking a few bites as he picks at his food. he can’t stop thinking about what you might be doing, can’t stop thinking about the fact that you’re still lingering in his mind.
without realizing, mark asks, “how bad is it if i’m still thinking about who i slept with last night?”
haechan looks up at him, his cheeks full with food. he takes his time to contemplate mark's words, chewing slowly on his food before speaking. he clears his throat, “well, what exactly are you thinking about? like, sexually, or…” he whispers at the end of his sentence, “romantically?”
mark feels embarrassed when he realizes it’s both. he could just lie and say it was the first option, but he can’t bring himself to. 
haechan doesn’t need to hear mark say his answer when he can see mark become more and more red. he knows mark is more of a relationship kind of guy, but really? he points his fork at mark, and in the nicest way possible, he questions him, “well, how much do you know about her?”
mark has to think about his answer. he’s never really seen you on campus or at any of the parties he’s been to. he knows your name… and how you look. turns out he doesn’t really know too much about you, but it feels more than that to mark. mark huffs out an answer, “not a lot, actually. but i do want to get to know her more! i feel like, like we really could’ve hit it off if it were any other time…”
“are you sure you’re not in love with her pussy or something?”
mark quickly shushes haechan, “why would you say that out loud where anyone could hear us?”
haechan brushes off his words, “it’s just… what if that was supposed to be the only time that you guys were meant to be together. you can’t just force someone to talk to you.”
“but-”
“nope. one, you don’t know her that well. two, if you do ever talk to her, given if she even wants to talk to you, what are you gonna say?”
“you know,” mark starts, really trying to come up with anything, “ask how she’s been?”
haechan threatens to throw his crumbled napkin at mark.
mark stares at his half eaten plate, not really knowing what else to say. he’s never seen you before, and last night was quite literally the first time he’s ever seen you. he’s not sure how he hasn’t before, not when you were so easy to pick out of a room full of people. maybe haechan is right, if he really wanted to know you, he should’ve already tried before.
he'll convince himself it was just a one time thing.
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when mark came up to you at the party, it was the second time you had ever seen him.
he still looked the same as how he did when you first saw him during your freshman year. he still looks a bit boyish, but somehow obviously more grown up. you saw him slowly walk up to you after apparently getting a pep talk from a friend. you had quickly pieced together who the two were, and how exactly you remembered them.
it was one of your first weeks of college. you were hanging out with a friend, quietly talking outside the room that your class was about to be held in. you didn’t want to be late, but you also didn’t want to be the first person walking in there. that was embarrassing, but it was also embarrassing just standing out here like you wouldn’t be entering in a few minutes.
you and your friend were sharing hushed whispers to one another, probably talking about an upcoming assignment you really didn’t want to do. you watch your friend pull out her phone to mindlessly scroll before class starts. you were about to do the same when you heard loud voices quickly pass through the hall.
the voices are too loud for the quiet hall, cringing lightly before you hear thundering footsteps coming your way. in a flash, you see a guy dragging another guy down the hall with him. you hear stop pulling so hard! and a hurry up! as they pass by you. you make eye contact with the one being dragged, his eyes looking apologetic for how loud they’re being.
as soon as they arrive, they’re fast to go. you hear your friend laugh next to you while you just shake your head in disapproval. you click your tongue before talking, “we’re in college and there’s men still acting like children.”
she giggles at your words, “i think they might just be like that.”
“do you know them?”
“not really, no. i just know their names. the guy who was doing the dragging is always loud like that. i guess the other guy gets caught up in it.”
you nod at her words. you hear the elevator doors open and you wonder if the two entered in together, praying the ride would be fast to whatever event they were late to. you let out a sigh, “the one being dragged looked at me like he was sorry.”
when she laughs, she bumps into your side, “i think his name is mark. i’m pretty sure they’re roommates.”
with a frown, you add, “i hope they’re late to wherever they’re going,” your friend laughs at this, “people are starting to get in class, let’s go.”
now, the second time you meet mark, it feels like you’re being properly introduced. he comes up to you, only slightly faltering when you look at him with a smile on your face. you wonder if he remembers you all those years ago, wonders if he remembers feeling sorry for you. he probably doesn’t with the way he tries flirting with you.
it’s not like you don’t expect it, knowing he had to go through a whole pep talk before this, but you still feel surprised. he doesn’t look like someone who would be this forward, but you can’t say you didn’t like it.
he asks for your name (proving he really doesn’t know you), and asks how the party is going for you. cocking your head slightly, you answer his questions, noticing how his eyes dart down to your lips occasionally. it doesn’t take long for you both to head up to a room together, full of giggles and laughs.
you didn’t realize how much you would be into this, into him. he was desperate, hands all over you as he groaned into your mouth. you thought you would have to beg him to eat you out, but he was the one practically whining out to have a taste of you. it’s even better once he starts fucking you, taking care of every single need of yours before his own.
it’s over faster than you want it to be. he looks a little panicked afterwards, confused on what exactly he should do. you wonder how often he does this, if he even does this at all. you brush it off by asking him to come lay down by you. he presumably pushes all his worries away to lay behind you, arm tentatively wrapping around your side.
you wonder if you pushed it too far by asking him to sleep with you like this. you both could’ve left the room together, parted ways for the night, and probably never see each other again. it makes you think if this was all he wanted with you. sex. it’s not that you were hoping for more, but mark seems like a nice guy.
you have a quick conversation, thanking him for tonight. it feels too formal, almost as if you were ending a date. this is mark, someone you don’t know well and have never talked to. you don’t know why you push the hairs out of his face or why you let him wrap his arm around you. you should keep distance between you two, but you don’t.
it’s hard to explain what you really want right now, but all you can do is fall asleep in his hold.
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you wake up earlier than mark, watching his chest rise and fall.
you find yourself cuddled into his side, using his arm like a pillow. you get up quietly to not disturb him, picking up your clothes from the night before. you hate staying at a random person’s place, but what else can you do in a situation like this. you find your phone, looking at your friends messages saying how she’s back at your shared apartment.
you send her a quick text that you’re heading back soon. you wonder what she’d say about all this, wonder if she remembers your encounter with mark from all those years ago. you take one last look at mark, sleeping peacefully on the bed, unknowing that you’re about to leave him there by himself.
you ponder on leaving your phone number for a few moments. nothing bad could come from it, but you don’t know if he would even want to see you after this. you bite your lip as you unlock the door, slipping out into the quiet frat house. you spot his friend passed out on a couch, a few others sleeping on the floor or other seats.
you debate on walking back to your apartment, but you’re sore everywhere. you mentally curse out mark as you try to find an uber, wincing when you look at the prices. you try to convince yourself that it's better than walking, better than waiting for the bus, and better than having to hear everyone else talk. 
once your ride arrives, you're quick to hop in. it’s quiet for the most part, the radio playing a song you’re not too familiar with. you mull over every decision you've made within the past twelve hours, and as much as you want to regret every single one, you can’t. it was a good night, you met a good person, and you got good sex out of it. what’s there to complain about?
you can’t help but wonder how mark feels.
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a few days pass, nothing really exciting happens.
you have class, you go to your job, and with the free time you have, you study or hangout with your friends. today’s a day where you've been out for a while, your friends dragging you out of your apartment and away from all the stress of a job and studying. even though you complain, they’re quick to see the smile on your face once you’re actually out. 
there’s few times where you hang out at the campus. after your freshman year, you stayed close to the areas around your apartment. the campus felt too far and suddenly felt like it was only there for business. but your friends insist on eating on the quad. it’s a nice day, and you can’t really say no to eating outside with warm weather and friends around you.
you don’t know what possesses you to look over your shoulder, but you do. you regret it immediately, noticing mark walking down a sidewalk to wherever he’s going. you’re not sure why you stare for so long, it’s not like you want to know where he’s going or who he could be meeting with. he does look nice when he’s dressed casually, though.
you realize you might’ve stared for too long once you see him turn back at you. it’s quick, but he does a double take, realizing it’s you that’s staring at him. you quickly whip your head back to your friends, internally panicking on what you should do. you have about twenty seconds to decide if he does come over.
this would be your first time seeing mark after the party, probably your second time seeing mark on campus at all. does he even want to say hi? and what will your friends think? they’ll wonder why you’re trying so hard to ignore the man that is currently walking towards you. you don’t really want to talk about it just yet.
you realize you might have to when you hear mark call out your name. you take a deep breath, slowly turning around to give him a small wave. you can feel the gazes of your friends fall onto you without even having to look at them. there’s a soft smile on his face, hands wrapping around his backpack straps as he gets closer.
“uh, hey, how are you?” he asks a little awkwardly
“i’m doing fine? how are you?” you can hear your friends whisper behind you as you feel the back of your neck go hot.
“i’ve doing fine, i’ve just… been thinking about you. you kinda just, like, left that morning.”
you sigh, fingers moving to play with the grass under you. is he really thinking about that night? does he expect you to want to do it again? you shrug, “yeah, i didn’t really know what else to do. i didn’t want to stay there all by myself.”
“oh, sorry. i could’ve… walked out with you- i mean, if you had asked.”
“no, it’s okay. i know your friend was still there.”
he nods, “yeah, i know. but, um, if you’re not busy soon, then can we hang out? just us two?”
you’re a little shocked that he can just ask that so casually. it’s like you’ve both been friends for so long, as if it was always normal for him to ask the girls he meets up with to hang out. in another world, you would probably say yes to him, but you can’t think of a good reason to tell him yes. “mark,” you start, “i’ll be busy this whole week so… i’m not sure if i’ll be able to.”
he takes a few moments to take in your words. he stares at you before finally staring at the floor. he nods slowly, offering you an apologetic smile before speaking, “that’s fine, i just wanted to see-” he takes a breath, “wanted to see what you would say.”
you let out a small sorry, and he takes it as a sign that it’s time for him to go. he takes a few steps back, watching as you give him an apologetic look. “i’ll, uh, maybe see you again? soon? i mean, like, if you ever want to.”
you feel a little awkward as you try to avoid any more eye contact with him. “yeah. i’ll see you, mark.”
he takes a few more steps back before fully turning around. you look at him out of the corner of your eye, watching as he spares you a few more glances. he looks a little disappointed, but he doesn’t try to force you into what you don’t want to do. that’s a good thing about him, you think.
you let out a heavy exhale, now fully facing your friends. when you notice the silence among the group, you look up. everyone is staring at you with smiles on their faces, their faces practically begging for you to say something. you bite back a laugh as you try to ignore it, but one of them speaks up, “what even was that?”
you huff, “just… someone i met the other night.”
if you ever meet mark lee again after this, you might just have to curse him out for having to awkwardly explain to your friends what just happened.
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it’s another day when you're back on campus.
there’s no friends this time around, no way for you to relax. you have a class today, getting upset with your past-self for thinking you could wake up this early for a class. you usually try to grab a quick snack beforehand to keep yourself awake. you make your way to your campus’s coffee shop. it might be 50/50 on whether it’s good or not, but it’s closer than anything else.
you think you deserve a sweet treat, a chocolate muffin that would probably cure every single thing that’s happened to you these past weeks (that also somehow all lead back to mark lee). you don’t really expect anything but a long line of other students waiting to order, but there you see the man himself, mark lee, sitting at a bench. 
you’ve learned your lesson from last time, quickly moving out of his sight and choosing not to stare at him. you make your way to the line, trying hard to ignore him. your eyes subconsciously move to look at the side of his face. he’s wearing glasses, hanging low on his nose as he scrolls through his phone.
you wonder if he’s waiting for his friend or if he’s just waiting for his class to start. there’s an impulse to walk over to him and make conversation, smiling as you ask about his morning. you’d be willing to be a bit late to your class if it meant to talk to him more. you’re just not sure he’d feel the same way.
you watch as he looks up from his phone, rolling his head around to stretch. before he can catch you staring you look away, straight ahead to the menu in front of you. you have to wonder if you’re making this hard for yourself on purpose. you don’t have to think about him so much, especially if he might not even be thinking about you.
well, he’s thinking about you, but probably not in the way you’re thinking about him. it makes you sad, you could’ve at least been friends with him. even now, as you stare at him a few feet away, you could easily eat your snack with him. you could laugh at how nervous he gets, could get him to warm up to you as he gets more comfortable.
but you don’t.
you pay for your muffin, wait for it to be handed to you, and take a whole separate route to your class. before you walk out of the building, you take one last look at him, watching how he stares off into the distance. you don’t want him to see you, quickly walking off away from him.
what you miss is mark staring at you as you walk away. there’s a small smile on his face, seeing you rush off. he doesn’t care that this is the second time he’s seen you, doesn’t care that you don’t even notice him. he likes seeing you like this, so different than how you presented yourself at the party, not that it’s a bad thing.
he wishes that he could go up and talk to you, but he doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable. when he walked back to his apartment after the day he saw you with your friends, he decided that you probably weren’t interested. as much as he wants to talk to you, it’s better to give you your space. he just wishes he never ruined his chances with you.
he checks the time on his phone, wondering how haechan could be so late. before he can pull up his messages with haechan, he shows up. there’s a lazy smile on his face as he walks down the hall. mark rolls his eyes as haechan gets closer. haechan only chuckles, slugging an arm around mark’s shoulder. mark is quick to take it off, earning a quick whine from haechan.
wordlessly, they start moving to their shared class. mark doesn’t bother to ask haechan how he’s doing, clearly having a nice morning if he decided to show up so late. haechan laughs when he sees mark so annoyed, patting his shoulder before he speaks, “i have good news, you’ll never guess who i saw.”
mark hums disinterestedly, knowing it was probably someone he saw doing something crazy at a party.
“i saw your girl walking by just now.”
mark's head snaps towards his friend, haechan laughing at how wide mark’s eyes are. haechan picks up his pace, “that’s not even the best part. i said hi. and she knew who i was.”
mark furrows his eyebrows, “why would you do that? did she… did she say anything else?”
“i just asked if she had any plans, but she just shrugged and said she was probably gonna go out this weekend with her friends.”
mark smacks his lips as they near their building. he pushes the door open, air slapping against his face as they step in. he lets out an exasperated sound, “well, do you know, like, where she’s going?”
haechan coos at mark, “you’re so sweet, such a sweet boy. she didn’t say, but that doesn’t mean we can’t try to find out, right?”
mark is deep in thought. if he did find you, and that’s if he really tried, would you even want to talk to him? he’s not sure if you want that kind of thing with him, but he wonders if he can still try. if you brush him off, then he realizes that’s probably it. he could respect your opinion, as long as you tell him what you want.
before they enter their class, mark stares at haechan, “right, there’s no harm in trying.”
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mark feels nervous tonight.
it doesn’t feel like the last time he went to a party, more confident and driven. now, he has a goal in his mind: to find you. he thinks it’s funny how nervous he’s being, it’s not even guaranteed that he’d see you again, not guaranteed that you would want to talk to him. if it doesn’t end up working out, he’ll just use tonight as a de-stressor, forcing all thoughts of you away.
haechan helps get his mind off of things on the way there. he doesn’t bring you up, chooses to talk about other mundane stuff. it would help more if mark didn’t know that haechan was just trying to distract him. it does make him realize how good of a friend he’s been through all of this.
when they get close to the place, haechan has to stop himself from laughing at how nervous mark looks, “you know she might not even be in there, right? it’s literally a saturday night, she could be anywhere.”
mark lets out the breath he’s been holding, “yeah, i guess.”
“do whatever you want tonight,” haechan huffs, “this is about you.”
with that, they enter the house. it’s a lot smaller than the frat, people all around mark as he enters. mark tries to scan the room, but can’t quite seem to catch you. you’re easy to spot, so that tells mark that you might not be here. before he can think about it more, haechan drags him off so he can get a drink.
haechan offers him some, but mark declines. if he does see you, he doesn’t want to mess it up by being potentially drunk. he tries to look around the room again from this angle, but he still can’t find you. it was bound to happen.
he’s about to give up when he notices a group of people move out of their spot, and there you are.
he knows you're there talking to a friend, but he can only see you. you remind him of how he first met you at the other party. he wants to walk over, wants to say hi, wants to talk to you. he forgets that haechan is there, beginning to take a few steps towards you.
he’s quickly stopped by haechan tugging on his arm, a certain look on his face, “are you really doing this?”
“i need to talk to her. even if she tells me to go away, i just- i need to hear it from her.”
haechan lets go of his arm, realizing that this is something that mark is serious about. “i don’t want to stop you. i’ll be here if you end up getting heartbroken,” haechan jokes.
mark just smiles, nodding before he walks away from him. he stops his hands from shaking as he gets closer. you’re turned away from him, and he doesn’t really know what else to do than tap your shoulder. you jump a little before turning around, your eyes wide as you realize it’s mark. he can’t help but notice your eyes soften a little when you see it’s just him.
“hey, uh, i didn’t expect to see you here.” he says to you. 
a faint smile forms on your face, “i can’t say i’m too surprised to see you.”
he lets out an embarrassed laugh, smiling to himself when he sees you laugh too. looking behind you, he sees your friend smiling at the two of you. you turn back to your friend, a wordless exchange happening in front of mark.
your friend puts her hands up in defeat, looking at mark with a wry smile, “i just got a text from our friend saying she needs help. i guess i have to leave you two alone now!”
mark gives your friend a wave as she says bye to the both of you. she rushes off to another part of the house, mark not missing the mischievous look on her face. now that it’s the two of you alone, shy and awkward smiles exchanged between the two of you. no one really knows what to say or how to start. 
“how have you been-”
“it’s been a while-”
you both talk over each other. you stare at each other with wide eyes, quickly laughing to yourselves. mark thinks he should be embarrassed by this, but he takes in how pretty you look while you laugh. he would embarrass himself for hours if it meant to see you smile.
the laughs subside and mark tries to quickly come up with something to say. there’s so many people around, the music is too loud, and you feel far from him. before he can say anything, you beat it to him, “do you wanna go somewhere more quiet?”
he can’t help but hear the subtle undertone of your words, a double meaning hidden behind them. he nods slowly, watching you grab his arm, just like the other night. he gets dragged through the crowd, weaving through all the people, his eyes remain on your back. your touch is warm, and mark likes having your hand on him. 
there’s not a lot of options for a “quiet place” in the house. most of the rooms are locked, and the ones that are open have people openly having sex with an unlocked door. mark grimaces at the sight while you laugh at his face. you opt for a restroom, tilting your head at mark, asking if he’s okay with it. he walks in before you, scanning the room and letting you in.
he watches you lock the door, hopping onto the sink counter as you stare at him. he wants to talk to you, he really does, but you staring at his lips makes it quite hard for him. he takes a step closer to you, your hands wrapping around his neck, pulling him flush against the counter. you’re so close to him, and he can feel his heart racing as he recalls his last meeting with you.
he licks his lips, his cheeks hot, eyes wandering all across your face. you chuckle at him, smiling as you say, “can i kiss you, mark?”
he doesn’t even answer you, pressing his lips against yours without hesitation. as much as he wanted to hold back, he seems to lose all control when it comes to you. he can’t pretend like you didn’t come out in his dreams every single night while also consuming his thoughts in the day. his hands hold your cheeks, almost checking if you’re really there with him.
the kisses are slow, getting used to each other once more. one if his hands slides down to your waist, squeezing at the skin. his tongue licks at your bottom lip, relishing in the small moan you let out. he licks into your mouth, his hand sliding under your shirt. you press your hips close to his, feeling how he’s growing hard in his pants just from kissing.
you can’t help but let your hips roll against his, slow and teasing as he lets out a low groan into your mouth. you’re just as needy as he is, always admiring him from afar now that you see him more on campus. it’s weird how the universe works, bringing him to you when all you wanted to do was try to ignore him.
you can feel yourself getting wet, mark grinding into you as he lets out soft pants into your mouth. you take it all in, finally getting what you wanted. you could try to get rid of all the thoughts that you have about him, but it’s hard when he’s… mark lee.
you can feel yourself becoming more needy, embarrassingly so. mark looks the same, his cheeks pink as he lets out soft grunts of your name. when you start kissing down his jawline, he suddenly pulls his upper half away from you. shock paints your face, and he’s quick to explain himself, “i just- i wanted to, uh-”
“can you cum like this? it’s okay if you do mark, i think it’s cute.”
he whines out, “no! well, yeah, i can, but i wanted to-”
“really, mark. don’t worry, i’ll let you eat me out afterwards.”
he’s quickly losing the battle, his mouth slowly inching towards you again. his hips buck up at the mention of getting to eat you out, memories of your taste on his tongue playing in his mind. he almost gives up, but he’s determined. he slowly peels himself from you, hooded eyes and a flushed face looking straight at you.
“i, uh, i wanted to talk. i mean, like, talk about… i guess, us?”
you catch your breath, squeezing your legs together as you try to calm yourself down, “is there an us? we’ve only met up once, and it was for sex.”
“that’s true, but i…” he trails off a bit, putting his words together, “i want to talk to you more. i want to get to know you, because i really liked being with you the other time.”
you try to hold back any butterflies from forming at his words. as much as you want to give in, you have to be careful, “but wasn’t it just sex? i thought that’s all you wanted from me.”
his hand moves to your thigh, his thumb smoothing over your skin, “that’s true, but i didn’t expect to like it- like you so much. and i don’t expect you to think the same thing, but i just… had to tell you.”
you choose to stare at his hand on your thigh instead of his face. it’s easier to avoid how his eyes shine thinking about his feelings for you. it’s not like it wasn’t obvious, especially after your friends saw him the other day. you bite the inside of your cheek, “you like me? even though you don’t know me, even if we’ve met only once?”
“that’s why i want to get to know you. i want to know what you like and dislike. i want to know what your favorite songs are, want to know what you do when you’re free. i want to be there to learn it all.”
his words feel heavy, and you can feel your own feelings bubbling in your throat. what about you was so interesting for him? did he have a reason to find you pretty under him? what did you do for him to have such strong feelings so fast?
you speak slowly, “are you sure? i- i brushed you off the other day. another day i chose not to talk to you even though i saw you. am i really someone you want to talk to?”
mark smiles at your words, there’s no faltering on his end, “it’s my fault for not telling you what i wanted. i didn’t want to make you uncomfortable, either. if you didn’t want to talk to me, i didn’t want to force you to.”
your mouth opens and closes, not really knowing what else to say. you can tell he’s been thinking about this, been taking your feelings into consideration. if it were any other guy, they wouldn’t care about you, only thinking with their dicks as they talk to you. it puts you at ease knowing that mark is being genuine about it all.
“that’s why i wanted to talk to you tonight. i really had no intention of doing all this-” he makes a gesture between you two, “-with you, even if i really really wanted to. i was prepared for everything.”
you laugh at him, letting out the breath you’ve been holding, “i also want to say sorry. i didn’t mean to be so… mean. i wanted to talk to you, too. i just thought that you only wanted a one time thing, or that you just wanted sex.”
his hand reaches for yours, and you don’t try to brush it off. you don’t quite grab his hand just yet, but you let him hold on. he stares at you gently, “i’m sorry if i made you feel that way.”
you shake your head, “it’s not your fault, i was just thinking too much.”
the two of you sit in silence for a couple of moments. you can hear the loud music bouncing through the thin walls. you can hear people shouting over the music, loud laughs echoing down the halls. even through all the noise, it feels like it’s just the two of you in the room. this is your space with him, and you like how it feels.
after a few more beats of silence, he speaks up, “can i… can i take you out sometime? like, i mean, like, take you out on a date? that isn’t a party? just… wherever you want?”
you let out a small laugh at his nervous, jumbled words. his cheeks turn pink at the sound, head falling to your shoulder as he groans in embarrassment. you hope he can’t hear your thumping heart as you answer him, “i would like that. i want to go on a date with you, mark.”
you can feel him smile against the skin of your shoulder. he whispers out a thank you, pressing a kiss to your shoulder. you wrap your arms behind his back, pulling him close as you hum, “do you think we should get out of here?”
he moves to look at you, “definitely.”
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you’re unexpectedly nervous for today.
after the party, you and mark exchanged numbers before you both went separate ways for the night. you never expected to see him, never expected to not have sex with him, and never expected to even give him your phone number. now, as you stare at the shared messages from the previous days, you realize how much you kept yourself away from him.
it almost felt too easy for you to fall for him. you tried to hold back, but the care he holds for you gets to your heart. you don’t mind, knowing that he’s felt like this just as long as you had, no restraint shown in how he takes your feelings seriously. a few weeks ago, you could’ve never felt nervous about what might happen today.
it’s nothing serious, mark even saying that it doesn’t have to be a date if you don’t want it to be. like he said before, he just wants to get to know you as a person. the thought makes you shake out a breath, trying to take it just as easy as him.
you mull over your clothing options, wondering what exactly you should wear for a casual hangout. he probably won’t care as much as you think he would, but you don’t want to seem too prepared or too lax. you’re overthinking it again. it’s just mark. it should be easy with him, he’s interested in you, not the you you try to put on.
you grab whatever feels fitting for the day. you look back at your phone, seeing mark’s text saying he’s ready when you are. you’re quick to type out that you’re about to start heading over. it’s just a coffee shop, you think. you try not to put too much meaning into it yet.
it’s not too far from you, a fifteen minute bus ride to the place. throughout the ride, you try to drown out your nervous thoughts with your favorite playlist. it seems the universe is against you when all it plays are the love songs in your playlist. too coincidental.
you get there before him. it looks like a nice, quiet spot. mark says he’s been going here for quite some time, one of his favorite spots to talk to his friends or study. you can’t help but wonder if it’s true or if he’s lying to impress you. you figure today is the best day to find that out.
you wait for him to arrive. you refrain from texting him, deciding to just wait it out. you don’t want to seem too worried just yet, he could just be running late. thoughts of him standing you up enter your mind. you have to laugh at the thought, realizing that mark doesn’t seem to be someone to do that. you don’t know him well yet, but you’re sure he isn’t that evil.
as if to prove your point, you hear someone calling your name. turning to the direction of the voice, you're greeted with mark lee walking towards you. there’s a bright smile on his face, an arm waving at you. you smile and wave back. as he gets closer, he looks over you, a shy smile on his face as he scans over your outfit. you get just embarrassed as him, looking away from his heavy stare.
“should we go inside?” you ask.
he’s quick to agree, opening the door for you. when you enter, you’re hit with the strong smell of coffee. there’s a few others inside, chatting away or typing on their laptops with their own drinks. you scan over the lengthy menu, opting to choose something lighter for today.
mark chooses the same thing as you, and you laugh at him. he says he doesn’t like coffee and wonders why you chose what you chose. he might be thinking too much into it, but you think it’s cute. you try to order separately, but he practically begs to pay for your drink. you give in, you can’t just say no to a free drink.
it’s a bit awkward when you both wait for your drinks. you can see him roll on his heels as he waits, can see how he tries to pick out what he wants to say. as you try to come up with every possible response, he speaks, “how was your day?”
you let out a small chuckle at his question, “good, actually. i spent most of my time thinking about right now, even i kinda surprised myself.”
he smiles at your admittance, “yeah? i did, too. i was nervous, that maybe you didn’t want to see me.”
“i can’t believe that i’m making you feel like that,” you let out an apologetic laugh, “trust me, i’ll be asking to hang out with you a lot now.”
before mark can say anything, your drinks are set out. you both thank the barista, and you start to move to one of the empty booths. before you can, mark catches onto your arm, “can we actually, uh, sit outside? the sky looks really pretty right now, i think it would be cool to sit outside.”
you smile, quickly nodding at his words. once again, he holds open the door for you, sliding out and looking at the small tables set outside. he was right, the sky is really pretty today. he lets you choose a spot, and you choose towards the corner where no one can bother the two of you.
he’s quick to speak up again, “i really like this place. i found it a while ago while walking around with my friend one day.”
“was it with haechan?”
mark cocks his head a little, “you know him?”
“other than his name and him being your friend, not really. he introduced himself to me one time, though.”
he laughs at that, “good to know. he doesn’t really like coming to places like this, so i would just come here by myself. i even considered asking if they were hiring.”
“and? did you?”
“i didn’t. i would be crushed if they rejected me and i wouldn’t be able to show my face there ever again.”
you choke on your drink at his words, a laugh trying to escape as you let out coughs. mark is quick to pat your back, laughing while trying to calm down your coughing fit. as your throat clears, the coughs fade into laughs, mark joining you as he apologizes, “sorry for being too funny.”
you jokingly glare at him, “you owe me, mark lee.”
silence washes over the two of you again. this time, it’s more comfortable. the drink is good, mark’s company feels good, and you’re happy you came today. you watch as he takes out his phone, quickly snapping a shot of the bright blue sky. it seems practiced, something he always does. you can’t help but ask, “what about the sky makes you like it so much?”
he shrugs, “i just think it’s pretty. it’s not going anywhere, and it’s nice to take a break from it all and look up at the sky.”
“i’ve never really thought about it that way. i don’t really take the time to just stare at it.”
he hums at your words, “it’s nice to look and think about all the pretty things in the world.”
you try to ignore how he stares at you while he says that, quickly breaking eye contact with him. there’s a shy, but proud smile on his face. you chuckle, “you’re too cool for me, mark.”
“one day you’ll be as cool as me. just know that i’ll send you pictures of sunsets or the moon, or literally just, like, anything. anything that reminds me of you.”
he lists the things that he just told you he finds pretty, indirectly implying that all the pretty things remind him of you. your heart beats a little harder, quickly taking a sip of your drink to try to ignore it. you try to come up with anything else to get rid of the rush growing inside you, “you know, i actually had seen you once before.”
his head quickly turns to you, “really? when?”
“it was during freshman year, i saw you getting dragged down a hallway.”
mark racks through all his memories, pinpointing when exactly that could’ve happened. you watch the realization dawn on his face, quickly shoving his face into his hands in embarrassment. you shake his shoulder a bit, laughing when he makes a humiliated sound. you question him further, “where were you guys even going?”
after ruffling his own hair a bit, his head slowly lifts up to get a quick look at you. his face is red, hands fidgeting in shame. you wonder what could possibly be so bad. he speaks up when he starts to see you get worried a bit, “it wasn’t even anything crazy, he was just trying to take me to an event with free food in it.”
you can’t stop yourself from laughing, placing your hand on his arm to stable yourself. you decide not to think too hard when his other hand lays on top of yours, thumb smoothing over your skin. it feels like it should always be there, his warm palm calming down your nerves. it should always be this easy.
“if it was just that, then why are you so embarrassed?” you ask, laugh airy.
“i know, but i could’ve skipped free pizza and instead talked to you! it’s not fair you’ve known me longer than i’ve known you. maybe we could’ve… we would’ve…” he doesn’t finish the end of his sentence, but you can assume what he’s trying to say.
“two poor freshmen students couldn’t help themselves to free pizza. i can’t blame you, honestly.”
he squeezes your hand and takes a breath before speaking, “you’ll go with me to get free pizza next time? you’re, like, officially invited to the next free pizza event.”
you chuckle, “would very much prefer you to take me out to an actual pizza place, thank you very much.”
his eyes shoot towards yours, “does that mean you want to see me again?”
you put his words together, “mark lee, were you trying to get me to go on another date with you by asking me to go to a campus event with free pizza?”
“well, it almost worked, didn’t it?”
“you can think of it as me choosing the next spot.”
his fingers move to try to intertwine his with yours. you bite your lip, letting him hold onto your hand. you don’t want to hold back anymore, he’s made it easy for you to let go of it all. 
“i can’t wait. it’s my turn to confess.”
you wait for him to continue, watching him hold back a smile as he pays full attention to your hand holding his. you tell him to focus, and he lets out a sheepish laugh, “that day haechan talked to you, he told me that you were going out that weekend. i really wanted to see you, so we both ended up going out that same weekend, too.”
“how did you know where i would be?”
“we didn’t,” he chuckles, “i just hoped that i would find you, hoped that you would be there. i got lucky that night.”
“it’s like you knew exactly where to find me.”
“it’s almost as if our subconscious were trying to bring us together,” he let’s out a proud noise at his own words while you playfully roll your eyes at him.
“mark, i will threaten to cancel our next date,” you joke.
he hums, “i know where to look to find you, don’t worry.”
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mark finds himself in bed with you again.
this time, he knows exactly why. he’s in love with you, and you finally admitted that you’re in love with him. he didn’t rush you, didn’t pressure you into reciprocating his feelings. he could see yourself becoming more comfortable around him, leaning into his touch, smiling at his words. he wouldn’t change anything (besides maybe that day he got dragged by haechan), in order to be here in bed with you.
even if all he had with you was that one night, he’d be happy knowing that he at least spent some time with you. but he got what he wanted, you let him into your life. he would’ve waited years if it meant getting with you.
so as he makes his way in between your thighs once more, he looks to see your face staring down at him with love. though he’s having sex with you again like all those nights ago, it feels different this time. he’s not here just to fuck you, but he’s here because he loves you. what’s even better is that now you love him back, and it feels right as you moan out his name.
he’s softer this time around, no rush in getting you both off as fast as possible. there’s no loud music or screaming coming through the walls, and you’re laying on top of your own bed. he’s here in your room, enjoying the presence of you right next to him.
he licks a stripe up your dripping cunt, savoring the taste that he’s been craving. he looks up to gauge your reaction, a smiling forming on his face to see your face scrunched up with need. he moves to suck on your clit, humming around it, feeling your thighs tighten around his head. he doesn’t bother moving them this time around, letting them try to shut around his head.
you can feel his tongue prod at your entrance, your hands move to tangle in his hair. he just can’t get enough of how sweet you taste. he thinks he could spend hours here in between your thighs, licking up your slick. he thanks every god out there for letting him be here with you, letting him be so entranced by all of you.
he grabs you by the waist to pull you closer to him. you can feel his nose press against your clit, and you can’t help but practically use his face to grind into him. he opens his eyes a bit, looking at the sight of you so fucked out just from his mouth. you’re all he can think about.
you can feel one of his fingers replace his tongue, moving to tease your clenching hole. you gasp out, tears welling in your eyes, “mark, please. need you so bad, you don’t even know-”
“baby-” you moan at the pet name, “i know how much you need me, i could never keep you waiting.” he slides a finger in, relishing in the way you clench around his digit. his mouth focuses on your clit, listening to the moans and whimpers you let out. it’s all because of him this time, all of the things he does for you because of how much he loves you.
he slips another finger in, scissoring them inside you, earning him a tug at his hair. his fingers move to curl inside you, enjoying the feeling of your warm walls wrapped around his fingers. you whimper when he finds your sweet spot, thighs practically trapping him between your thighs. he commits that spot to memory, now forever burned into his mind.
it doesn’t take long for him to get you close to cumming. he’s putting all his attention on you, his desperation showing with how greedily he’s moving against you. you feel your body heat up, thighs beginning to shake around him. “m-mark, ‘m gonna cum, wanna cum so bad!” you wait, and you can feel him smile against you.
he pulls his mouth away from you, his fingers still moving inside of you as he thumb reaches to rub your clit. he moves to kiss you, licking into your mouth. you can taste yourself on his tongue, moaning into your mouth as you cum on his fingers. he rides you through it, fingers slowing down as you whine from the overstimulation.
he removes them from you, bringing them up to his mouth. you watch him slide them into his mouth, his eyes fluttering shut with the taste of your cum. he lets out a small groan, and you have to lightly kick his leg to get him to focus. his eyes focus on you again, letting out an embarrassed laugh, trying to redirect it towards you.
“my girl came so fast, did you miss me that much?” he teases.
you roll your eyes, “so what if i did! now, will you let me finally suck you off?”
his eyes bulge out of his head and you have to refrain from laughing at the sight. “i never got to, but you don’t know how much i want to.”
you both trade spots, mark laying to lean against the headboard, his hooded eyes staring down at you. your hands trail up his clothed thighs, and he can’t miss the way you look at his bulge in his sweats. you make eye contact with him as you slide down his sweats and boxers, watching how his hard cock slaps against his stomach.
he lets out a low groan at the sight of you so prettily sat between his legs. you kitten lick his tip before wrapping your hand around his length. you move your hand slowly up and down, smiling at the low groans he lets out at the feeling. you won’t ever admit it to him, but you’ve thought about doing this to him too much, even before you started dating.
you can tell he thought about it too with the way his bleary eyes look at you. his head pushes into the headboard as your lips wrap around his tip, sucking lightly. his hand doesn’t hesitate to move to your cheek, his thumb smoothing over your soft skin. your tongue swirls around his tip, and mark tries hard to stop himself from shoving his cock down your throat.
you move down his cock, trying to take as much of him as you can. you have to wrap a hand at his base, twisting your fist as you bob your head. his hips buck up a little, feeling you gag around him, moaning out an apology. you hum around him, a hand moving to hold down his hip. he lets out a whine at the feeling of vibrations, one of his hands moving to tug at his hair.
“d-doing so good for me- shit, my girl is doing such a good job for me.”
the praise makes your cheeks heat up, and you quicken your movements to hear more. you swallow around him, hearing the anguished groans he lets out. your tongue slides against the underside of his cock, “such a pretty mouth, making me feel so good. you d-don’t know how much i thought about this.”
if only he knew that you feel the same way. as if to respond to him, your eyes look up at his. they almost flutter close, the sight of his cock in your mouth, your pretty eyes batting at him, and the almost glossy look to your eyes sets something off in him. he’s so close, a broken moan escaping him, “if you keep doing that, i’ll cum- oh god, please don’t stop.”
he tries to hold off to make this last longer, but every time you swallow around him, it gets hard for him to hold back. he’s losing his self control, something that you always manage to take away from him. he doesn’t know how you do it, but he thinks it’s because of all the love he holds for you.
it’s your eyes smiling at him that makes him cum. you don’t pull off of him, trying to fit more of his length into your mouth as he spills his cum down your throat. he’s letting out whines of your name, telling you how good you’ve been, how he’s so lucky to have his pretty girl do this for him. you swallow up all his cum, feeling how his cock twitches in your mouth.
you don’t pull away from him right away, causing mark to nervously laugh out at the feeling of overstimulation. you hum around him once more, causing him to let out a small whimper as he tries to pull away. you slowly pull away from him, mark letting out a huff of relief as you lazily smile at him. 
“i think i would’ve passed out if you tried making me cum again.”
you move up to snuggle at his side, nuzzling your face into this neck, “now you know how i feel when i have to get you to stop eating me out.”
he whines out an it’s different! as he wraps his arms around you, tucking you into his chest. he’s warm, slightly sweaty, but you wouldn’t want it any other way. it’s quiet, hearing his heart beat in his chest with you so close to him. you could fall asleep in his arms, but you hear him whisper something above you. you ask him to repeat it, not quite catching it the first time.
“please don't leave me ever again.”
“this is my own apartment-” he laughs at your words, “plus, i think i love you too much to let myself ever leave you.”
he lets out a sigh, calmed by your words, “good. i can’t ever let my girl go anywhere anymore.”
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a/n: I FINALLY FINISHED OH MY GOD. i love writing for mark and towards the end i somehow fell more in love with him... i hope u guys enjoy the second part to how it all goes, please let me know if you did!!!! hehe
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fangirl-dot-com · 14 days
Text
🐾 Il Pawdestinato
Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Bianchi!Reader (fc. Alexandra) Genre: Comfort/Fluff Summary: A disappointing fourth place as Suzuka has your boyfriend feeling down. Maybe all he needs is a teeny-tiny surprise.
So this is that imagine that I've been talking about making. Sorry, it's taken so long. I hope you all enjoy and I promise I am working on the next chapter of Reputations. I just think that since it's a smaller fic, I could do an imagine and a chapter for the week. Let me know what y'all want me to do!
You internally sighed as you watched the red car with the number 16 cross the line in fourth place. Anger started to bubble below the surface and you had to turn around for a moment, hoping that the cameras in the garage wouldn’t catch the sneer on your face. 
How hard was it to get Charles on the podium that his heart needed? 
The tenth anniversary and it seemed to not matter to anyone except your family and Charles’s. But of course, it’s Ferrari. Can’t give their driver a decent car or a decent strategy. When Charles is ahead it’s race on if you’re faster. But if Charles is faster but behind it’s stay in position. 
When were Ferrari finally going to actually put actions into their words? Or give their chosen driver the better strategies? 
Your blood had almost boiled over at the very distasteful words of Damon Hill when he called Charles depressed and emotion during the weekend. Sorry, it’s not like his godfather or your brother had a fatal crash ten years ago. Totally not that. 
Charles had to hold you back from seeking out the former champion when you watched the interview. 
But now, you just had to be there for Charles. 
Your hands held the helmet that the Monegasque would have brought to the podium with him if he had been up there. The helmet that should have been brought to the podium years ago if everything had been according to plan. 
But ten years ago, fate had a different story: one that didn’t include your brother in the narrative. 
Your high-heeled feet quickly took you to Parc Ferme to meet him there. You didn’t want to be too late. Multiple people in red parted for you as you made your way to the cars. The shiny helmet seemed to blind anyone who looked at it. 
Charles took his time getting out of the car in the P4 placement. His heart was heavy as his head turned to look at the wrong Ferrari parked a few meters away. God how he wanted that to have been him. His eyes watered as he started to take his gloves off. He could see the tilt of Carlos’s lip as he gave his post-race interview. He despised the driver for it. 
However, as he turned, a glint of silver caught his eyes. The Monegasque almost choked on his spit when he saw that you were holding it up. He all but ran over, trying to get there quickly before Max was called up.  
Charles held out his hands when he got close, however he froze when you placed Jules’s helmet in his hands. His own helmet was still on, probably him trying to hide his own tears. Except, you had let yours run free. 
You gave him a little nudge. 
“Go,” was all you told him. 
The Ferrari driver, now with helmet in hand, jogged over to the cool down room. The security around didn’t bother him, almost knowing what he was trying to do. He poked his head around the corner and caught a bit of the conversation. 
“And you were struggling with tyres,” he heard Max say as he watched the Dutchman almost give Carlos a cold shoulder. Max’s eyes widened when he caught a familiar red helmet peeking around the corner. He cocked an eyebrow but walked over when beckoned. 
“Charlie?” he questioned when he saw the Monegasque crying in his helmet. Max wanted to question him further, but something was thrust in his hands. He looked down in shock. 
Charles shuffled on his feet a bit. 
“Can-can,” he stuttered under the Dutchman’s gaze. He inhaled deeply. “Can you take this with you? On the podium?” 
He shut his eyes tight, not even wanting to see if Max rejected his plea. A hand came to rest on his shoulder and he opened his eyes just a bit. He was confused when he saw that Max was close to tears as well. 
Max gulped the big lump in his throat, taken back by what Charles was asking. If Max could, he’d switch with Charles in heartbeat. 
He tried to give the brunet a smile, but it came out kind of crooked. Max clutched the helmet close to his stomach, careful not to accidentally drop it. He looked down at the silver detailing. The only thing lacking on it was the Ferrari emblem. His eyes widened a bit when he realized that this wasn’t just an extra helmet from Charles. 
“I-I’m sorry I c-can’t bring it up myself,” Charles tried to justify, but he couldn’t get the words out. 
In the back of the cooldown room, Checo’s eyes were trained on the pair. His eyes slid to the side only to find Carlos not even looking. The Mexican wished he could hear when they were saying, but the familiar helmet told him everything he needed to know. He watched Charles back away and disappear around the corner. Once the red-clad driver was gone, Checo saw Max stiffen as though he realized what this actually meant. 
The second Red Bull driver got off the seat and walked over toward the Dutchman. He peered down at the silver helmet. He could almost hear Max thinking in the silence. Now he was the one to place a comforting hand on Max’s shoulder, as the Dutchman had done for Charles. 
“He trusts you Max.” 
Max only breathed in and nodded. They were quickly called to line up go to the podium. When the blond got to the top step, he made sure to hold the helmet where everyone could see. It was kind of like a testament to truly show that he was the wrong driver to be holding it on the top step. 
His blue eyes tried to find green in the crowd below, but he failed. Max even failed trying to find you. He deflated a bit but still held his head up high. Max’s lips quirked when he heard P screaming from below in the arms of Kelly. 
While Max held the helmet, really all he could think of is if he would have friends who’d hold his helmet in reverence if he were to tragically die. He’d like to think that Charles would race with a dedication helmet all race year long. He wouldn’t want it on Carlos’s helmet or Checo’s (but he knew that the two would do it anyway). 
Even though he was missing green, his eyes did catch a wide smile. He was glad that Danny was there, knowing the Australian had been close to Jules during his time in F1. 
Max had been so caught up in the anthems that he didn’t even realize that they had ended. Not wanting the helmet to get ruined with champagne, he quickly ran around to hide it behind the wall. He made sure it was stable before running back out to join in the celebrations. He knew that he’d have to give it back after, but for now, he could only receive sprays of bubbly. 
Charles’s head had been buried in the crook of your next since he got back to his drivers room. You could only rub small circles on his back, trying the comfort the sad man. 
“Why am I just never good enough?” Charles whispered into the silence. Your breath hitched when you heard the utter despair in his voice. “Can’t even get a podium for Julio.” 
“Charles, it’s not you. Please, never think it’s you.” 
The Monegasque only sighed and turned more into you. Your hands blindly reached for your phone. Once your fingers hit the cool case, you immediately grabbed it and started to plan something. You knew that the two of you were headed to Milan this week for sim testing and for the grand opening of LEC. But, you knew that you could make it even more special. 
You grinned as you made the plans and sent over a hefty amount of money, but it’d be worth it.
Hopefully.
A knock on the door had Charles sitting up straight. He quickly rubbed his eyes before heading over to the door. When he opened it, he came face to face with a soaked Max, who had slightly sad eyes. In his hands was the helmet. 
Max’s gray eyes swept over Charles before looking around the room. He gave you a smile when your eyes met. A quick nod of you head told Max everything he had to know. He turned his eyes back to Charles and handed the headpiece over. 
There was some awkward silence before Max coughed. 
“I’m guessing you’re headed back to Maranello?” 
When Charles shook his head no, the Dutchman was a little confused.
“We’re headed to Milan first,” was all Charles offered. 
You snorted at the short words from your boyfriend. Charles grew red but then offered a little more intel. “I have that ice cream thing.” 
Max’s eyes widened when he realized that it wasn’t just a rumor or a joke. Charles made a face. 
“I’m very serious about my ice cream Max.” 
Oh, Max guesses he said that out loud.  
The Red Bull driver snorted. “I wouldn’t doubt that Charles. Everything you do, you do it best.” 
Now, Charles grew red (but not of embarrassment). 
“Thank you,” he whispered, squeezing the helmet a bit tighter. You were still scrolling through your phone as they talked a bit more. You were just making sure that the place you were staying at had the correct accommodations for your surprise. 
It was only when Charles got back into his spot on your chest did you realize that Max was gone. You turned your phone off and put your hands into his hair and started to scratch lightly. A content sigh escaped Charles as he finally melted into you. You leaned down to kiss his forehead. 
“We have to get going or the flight is going to leave without us,” you murmured into his hairline. You had talked to Fred (more like demanded) about letting Charles skip debrief for the time being. The money in your bank account could pay for whatever expenses the Monegasque would be fined if he skipped everything. 
In the plane, Charles had curled up to you once again. When you made sure that he was sound asleep, you got your computer back out. You finished typing out your email to Doni, making sure that everything was in order for when the plane would land. You just hoped that you could keep the surprise a secret for a little longer. 
Knowing that Charles would be dead tired when you got to the place where you’d be staying for almost two weeks, you put him straight to bed when you arrived. He went down with little to no arguments and was sound asleep as you unpacked everything. 
Pulling back the covers, you were able to slip in next to him. As you were about to fall asleep, Charles wrapped his arm around your middle and brought you closer. His lips met the crest of your shoulder before tucking his head back into your neck. You put your hand over his arm and held it tightly. 
In the morning, you were woken up by the sound of a blender from the kitchen. You sleepily put your feet on the cool tile and made your way to the open room. 
Charles had his bare back to you as he was slaving over frozen fruit and oat milk. He startled a bit as your cheek came to rest on his shoulder. Your lips pressed against your favorite freckle that stood out amongst the rest of the galaxy on his back. 
“Good morning amore.” 
You always loved his terms of endearment in the morning when his voice was still deep with sleep. 
“Morning Cha.” 
Charles smiled as he heard sleep still evident in your own voice. While he pressed the automatic blend button, he turned around to face you. Your eyes were still closed as you looked at him with a dopey smile. Charles couldn’t help but mirror it, even if you couldn’t see it.
 He leaned down and placed feather-light kissed on your eyelids before moving down to your nose. The Monegasque always loved doing that as your nose would immediately scrunch after. 
A whine left your lips, signally to him that he hadn’t kissed you where you wanted it yet. He rolled his eyes and stooped a bit lower, his lips finally finding solace in yours. 
After three years, you still couldn’t get over the feeling of his lips on yours. Your hands slip up his arms until they locked behind his neck, pulling him closer to you. His own hands found themselves planted against the span of your hips. 
It was just the two of you in your own little world for a bit, leaving you breathless when you finally parted, smoothie long forgotten. 
Charles rested his forehead against yours. 
You hummed, getting his attention. 
“I have a surprise for you later today,” you told him. Feeling him tense against your chest, you knew he was immediately interested. 
“Like, later today or in a few hours.” 
“More like in a few hours. We have to get ready and then get going.” 
You and Charles quickly drank your smoothies before you headed back to the bedroom to get dressed. Teasingly, you swung the keys around his face as you walked out to the car, claiming that you had to drive because he didn’t even know where you were going. 
“You get to be passenger princess now my love,” you called as you climbed into the driver’s seat. Charles could only roll his eyes. 
He would never admit it, but he secretly liked being the passenger every once in a while. It gave him the freedom to choose the music and not worry about getting one place to another. 
Once the car got closer to the location, Charles had a sense of what was going on. He turned his head toward you once you pulled into the house. His eyes were sparkling (but you knew they’d get brighter once he understood why exactly the two of you were here). 
Charles unbuckled with you following suit. 
“Are we here to see Mimi?” he questioned as he held your hand, swinging it as you walked. 
You were digging through your purse with your other. “Something like that.” 
The doorbell was rang and Charles smiled at the sight of his friend. 
“Hi mate,” he greeted, pulling Doni into a hug. You gave the man a greeting when you had the chance. 
“Follow me,” Doni said, pulling you and Charles into the house. You could tell that the Monegasque was excited as he squeezed passed Doni and immediately went to pick Mimi up. You giggled, seeing your boyfriend turn into a literally baby for the small dog. 
Seeing that he was preoccupied, you leaned over to Doni. 
“Is he here?” 
Doni smiled down at you. “We can go get him.” 
You turned to Charles. “Love, Doni is going to show me a new painting that he’s been working on. I’ll be right back.” 
The only response you got was Charles kissing Mimi on the head and waving you off. You couldn’t even find it in yourself to be mad because moments later, your hands were full of puppy. You clutched the blond dachshund into your chest. 
“He’s perfect,” you whispered, kissing the puppy’s head lightly, earning a little yap in return. You and Doni returned to the bigger room, still finding Charles enamored with Mimi. You snorted at the sight. 
“Charlie,” you said, gaining the Monegasque’s attention for a moment. The minutes Charles’s eyes were on you, he froze at the sight of the itty-bitty puppy in your arms. He set Mimi down immediately, but the bigger dachshund wasn’t offended. 
Charles gingerly stepped over and his hands hovered over the little puppy in your arms. His eyes met yours, silently asking to hold the tiny thing. You rolled your eyes and you gently set the unnamed puppy in his hands. 
The baby dachshund looked tiny in your arms, but now looked even tinier in Charles’s bigger hands. The Ferrari driver held the puppy up to his face and was met with a wet tongue against his nose. The giggles that resounded out of the grown man made you melt inside. 
After the right amount of attention was given to the pup, Charles looked at Doni. 
“What’s his name?” he asked his friend. 
Doni smirked down at you. 
“That’s for you to decide love.” 
It was comical with how big Charles’s eyes got when he finally realized that the puppy in his hands was his (well, you two would share him). Tears even welled up in his green eyes, making them look incredibly glassy. 
You cooed at the two while stepping closer to put your hand back on the puppy. The little thing yawned and snuggled deeper into Charles’s hand. His head whipped up so he could look at you. 
“I’m never putting him down you know that right? I’ll make him a little pocket in my race suit and he’s going to go everywhere with me.” 
You snorted. “I don’t think puppies are built to withstand the G’s baby, but I’ll keep him company in the garage. He’ll have Roscoe to play with next year too.” 
Charles stopped listening after you had said “baby,” his brain melting. Now, he couldn’t stop thinking about a future with you and an actual baby. That made blood go to different places and he needed to stop thinking about that. 
Doni had walked away for a moment and came back with a piece of paper. 
“You think of a name superstar?” the man asked, pen poised to write. 
Charles held the British-crème dog up to his face and looked into the boba-like brown eyes. He hummed as he put him back down at stomach level, still not wanting to put him down. 
“Leo.” 
Now that you snorted. “You’re going to name our son after your rival?” 
Charles paled once he realized and stuttered as he tried to make up an excuse. “Non, it’s like the LEC logo. The ‘C’ looks like an ‘O’ if you squint.” 
You laughed but nodded at the excuse. “Sure amore, sure. But I think Leo Leclerc suits him. Little baby.” 
Doni also laughed as he wrote down Leo’s name. “More like Leo LeHandbag because I don’t think superstar is going to put him down anytime soon.” 
You turned back to Charles, but the man was already crouched down next to Mimi, showing off Leo to the older dog. You facepalmed. 
“I am dating a literally child. First an ice cream line and now this.” 
Doni smiled. “He looks happy.” 
You sighed in content. That’s all you had wanted to do since Suzuka: make Charles happy. You couldn’t bring back your brother, but you could offer small hopes to the man you loved so dearly. Your eyes widened when you looked at your watch. 
“Love, we have to go. Your launch is in an hour and a half.” 
Charles pouted. “We’re bringing him right?” 
You smiled softly. “Yes, let’s bring our son.” 
The two of you said your goodbyes to Doni before heading out. Charles still wanted to be the passenger so that he could hold onto Leo for longer, knowing that he’d have to give him back to you once the launch started. 
“I still can’t believe you named him Leo after Max.” 
“He is not named after Max.” 
“Sure babe. It’s definitely not like Roscoe being named after Nico Rosberg.” 
“Wait. Lewis names Roscoe after Rosberg?” 
“Yes Charlie. But it’s ok. I can be second best to your work-wife.” 
“Max is not my work-wife.” 
“Whatever you say. Il Predestinato now has Il Pawdestinato.” 
“HE WON IN SPA, HE WINS IN MONZA!” 
“I swear Charles, I will take him back.” 
“LEO LECLERC IS THE WINNER OF THE 2024 DOGGIE GRAND PRIX!” 
“I’m dating a child.” 
y/n_bianchi has posted
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y/n_bianchi little Leo Leclerc ☀️
liked by charles_leclerc, lestappenlove, y/nxcharlie, and 4,204,096 others
leclerc_fam oh my gosh he's so cutieeeeeee
i_want_y/n do y'all need another one? cause I can bark 🗣
charliesangels STOP DID Y/N GET HIM A PUPPY AFTER SUZUKA????
lestappenlove not them naming Leo after a certain lion rival
brocedes2.0 reminds me of lewis naming Roscoe after Nico Rosberg
lecluv ice cream, a puppy, and a gorgeous girlfriend - Charles is living the life 😭
roscoelovescoco yous is goings to haves to brings him to the paddocks so I's cans meets new friend! ♥️
y/n_bianchi of course roscoe! I can babysit so the dads can do their thing 🏎💨
lewishamilton can't wait to meet the son!
charles_leclerc he'll be at Shanghai ☺️
roscoe&leo they're going to be the IT dogs of the paddock
leolovescharlie imagine having formula 1 driver Charles Leclerc and Ceo of a multimillion dollar company Y/n Bianchi as your parents
maxverstappen1 I like the name! 🦁
y/n_bianchi i told him that you'd say something
charles_leclerc HE IS NOT NAMED AFTER YOU
y/nxcharlie it's cat dad Max Verstappen vs dog dad Charles Leclerc
iamred_iamyellow choose your fighter
y/n_leclerc I'm just waiting for when y/n is going to show up with a ring
ferrari_fan when I saw I got that dawg in me, best know I'm talking about Leo
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