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freak-accident419 · 2 months

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You Can’t Spell ‘FWB’ without ‘Friend’

Derek Danforth x GN!Reader

Summary: Ever since the night before, you and Derek had become best friends with benefits. Bored at a fancy rich person party, you two decide to hook up again. However, when you’re inexplicably taken out of the mood, you two decide to do something else for the night: hang out like the best friends you were.

Word Count: 2.9k

Content: 18+ content, MDNI, (graphic descriptions of) sex (awkward), cursing, mentions of drugs, (best) friends with benefits, platonic (but you can interpret it as potentially romantic), short read, reader and Derek are just best pals that fuck, slightly ooc Derek, reader is rich/famous like Derek, attempt to hook up in the bathroom at a party (end up hanging out instead), smoking, drinking, Star Wars references, very chaotic

(A/n: Dedicating this to my wifey @xcherryerim 🫶 your post awaiting this fic meant a lot to me :3)

Holy fuck, you wanted to gouge your eyes out.

You had a glass of wine in your hand, staring at the crowd of old, wealthy hags, sipping the drink briefly out of boredom.

You were at yet another fancy party in some rich person’s mansion, accompanied by your best friend Derek, the son of President Jessica Danforth and CEO of Danforth Enterprises. You had been good friends with him for a very long time, the two of you always stirring up trouble whenever together.

You stare down at the deep scarlet of your drink, intensely zoning out as you thought about the night before. A pair of hands caressing the skin on your thighs, legs tightening around hips, wrists held above your head, and loud, sultry moans and sounds filling the room.

And then you snapped out of it as you felt a tap on your shoulder. You looked up to see exactly him—Derek.

“This party is ass,” you grumble to him, taking a sip from your drink.

“I know,” he replies, sipping his. “Any luck with finding investors?”

“Don’t be ridiculous, I have people doing that for me,” you scoff.

“Right,” he nods.

“Any luck with convincing some poor girl to invest in crypto?” You ask, looking at him as you raise an eyebrow.

“Nope,” he answers with a sigh, but a smile was plastered on his face.

You chuckled at his reply. “Hah. I’m not surprised. Crypto is fucking ridiculous.”

“Hey, fuck you.”

“Hm, you already did. What, once isn’t enough for you?” you retort quickly, sneering.

Derek’s eyes widened in response, frantically looking around to see if anyone heard you, then whispered, “Would—Would you be quiet?” He stressed under his breath. “Don’t say that fucking shit out loud, what if somebody heard?”

Last night didn’t really mean to happen. Like the close friends you were, you hung out with Derek at his mansion as you regularly do. However, one thing led to another because of a bottle of pinot noir and the unfortunate appearance of a sex scene in a movie you two watched together. Accordingly, you woke up sore the next morning. You two had established that it was just hooking up, no strings attached—but nobody could know about your arrangement. Not your friends, not your co-workers, and especially not Derek’s mother. While he was known for being promiscuous, the press couldn’t find out that Derek had hooked up with you, not only a good friend of Derek, but someone who was well known in the media due to their wealth.

You roll your eyes carelessly as flashes from last night began to cloud your mind. His fast breaths, his body, his skilled hands. Yet you shook it off easily. “Oh, come on, Derek, these old, ancient fucks can’t hear shit.” An old woman looked at you in disapproval after hearing you swear, walking away from you. “Okay, well, she heard that, but nobody’s gonna know! Don’t get your fuckin’ Louis Vuitton boxers in a twist.”

“They’re not—” he huffs in annoyance. You weren’t taking this seriously, which ultimately frustrated him; your carelessness reminded him too much of himself. “Y/n, who knows what’ll happen if anyone finds out? Like, you know I have to keep my fucking reputation up, and you do too. I don’t think there’s anything Wallace could do if the press found out we hooked up.”

You pause briefly until a smirk creeps up onto your lips in realization. “You regret it, don’t you?”

“No, of course I don’t regret it,” he answers immediately. Not regretting it was clearly an understatement. He really enjoyed last night, every second, every feeling. So he was slightly confused as to why you even doubted him. “Why do you ask?”

“It’s just—” you stutter out, “I woke up and you were gone, you know.” You mutter as you took out a cigarette, placing it into your mouth and lighting it.

His mouth went dry and he pursed his lips promptly. “I had to be at Danforth Enterprises,” he says, watching you exhale the smoke from your cigarette.

“Yeah, well, you could’ve sent me a text or written a note,” you shrug. “Like, it’s your house, dude. I was supposed to be the one leaving the morning after, not you.”

“Right, sorry,” he says simply. “Force of habit.” —It was true; he had an infamous history of one-night stands.

“Plus, I’m your best friend,” you reason. “I don’t want this to, like, ruin everything we had. Like, you’re still my buddy to me.”

He looked at you with a slightly amused grin. “Hey, nothing’s gonna change between us, alright? As you said, you’re my best friend, and it’s always gonna stay that way.” You chuckled, offering him a smile as you heard his response. He could be sentimental whenever he wanted. “Look, the day our friendship will ever change is the day I’ll shut down UDG and Nine Star. Which is basically, like, fucking never. Don’t worry about it.” Even as he said the last sentence, this could be interpreted in two different ways. The first one is that he’d never be in some sort of greater relationship with you, likewise his reluctance to stop scamming. The second one, however, implies that if he ever got into something serious with you, a moral obligation will arise, forcing him to shut down his unethical phishing companies just for you. Right. That sounded ridiculous. It was definitely not the latter.

The two of you both took a sip of your drink in unison.

“But, like,” he began, swirling his glass of wine in his hand engagingly, “Is this gonna be, like, a regular thing?”

You raise an eyebrow curiously after taking a sip of your own. “Like, hooking up?” He nods. “I mean… Whatever happens, happens.”

“Uhh, how do you mean?”

“Like, if it was a one-time thing, so be it. But if it’s gonna become regular, then also so be it,” you took a drag of your cigarette. “Doesn’t really matter. We can just, like, do whatever we want. Nothing has to be all predetermined. If we feel like fucking, then we’ll fuck. If not, then great, another day of walking normally.”

“Right,” he says.

You were bored.

So fucking bored.

You dressed all fancy for nothing, you feel. You were obligated to go the same reason Derek had: your wealthy, famous status. But it was so underwhelming and useless, even. As long as you made an appearance, then that should’ve been enough for everybody.

You put out your cigarette and finish your wine, nearly chugging it.

“Hey,” you tap on Derek’s shoulder, making him turn around to look at you after he had been gazing at a potential crypto girl. “Wanna do a quickie in this rich loser’s bathroom?”

He raises an eyebrow in interest.

***

You were held up against the wall of the bathroom, legs wrapped around Derek’s hips as his hands held you by your thighs, pounding his cock in and out of you at a fairly quick pace. Your hands held onto his arms and your chin rested on his shoulder tiredly as the occasional skin slapping against skin sound echoed in the room, hearing Derek grunt with almost every thrust.

You felt slightly uncomfortable and awkward. Like, you weren’t really aroused. It felt… dry? You didn’t know what you meant by that, but the friction was just… unsatisfying. He was grazing your walls in a way that just made it feel like burning, increasing your discomfort. But at least he looked like he was enjoying this. Good for him, you guessed.

This never happened before, so it was sort of… really weird to you, to say the least.

To be honest, you were kind of bored. Like, really bored. How the hell were you still bored? You temporarily escaped an old rich people party to have rigorous sex in their bathroom with your best friend, but you were still bored.

“Shit…” you mutter, disgruntled, as he moved consistently inside you, the burning sensation catching up with you. “What the fuck? Why does—ow—Why the fuck is this hurting?”

Derek pulls his head away from your shoulder and looks at you in concern, his dick still inside of you. “Are you okay? Should I go slower?” He offers, raising an eyebrow as he searched for hesitance in your eyes, then looking you up and down.

“Yeah, sure, okay,” you nodded. “It’s whatever, just—just keep going,” you dismiss in a low murmur. As he starts again at a slower pace, you still had an uncomfortable expression on your face. He was moving his hips but all you felt was mere irritation.

“Okay, what—what the hell?” You groan as you still felt shitty, resulting in Derek stopping his thrusts.

“What’s the issue? Am I still going fast? Should I slow down more?”

“Yeah, uh, probably, yeah,” you say as your head goes back on his shoulder. He proceeds with his movements, his cock sliding in at an even slower pace, stretching your walls more intricately.

“Is this—is this better?” He asks as he moves patiently, steadily moving in and out of your body.

And it wasn’t even a minute in before you would interrupt again.

“Umm… Actually I,” you begin, sighing, “I’m just—I don’t know, I’m not feeling it.”

Derek slides out, still holding you up against the wall by your thighs and raises an eyebrow, looking into your eyes. “Seriously?”

You nod simply.

“Okay, what’s wrong?” He asks, unsure if it was something on his part.

“I don’t know, I’m just not really feeling it,” you reply awkwardly.

“Weren’t you the one who brought it up—”

“I’m not feeling it anymore, dude, I’m sorry!” you exclaim, throwing your hands up in surrender.

He puts you down as you put your clothing back on. As you slip your underwear back on, you look at him standing by the same spot by the wall. “Are you still hard?” You ask, raising an eyebrow insightfully.

“Yup,” he shrugs shamelessly.

You sort of felt bad, since you were the one who had the idea of fucking in the bathroom in the first place, making him all riled up.

You sigh softly and you two look at each other in silence. You let out a quiet huff.

“Want me to jerk you off?”

Soon after his release, he put his boxers and pants on leisurely. You were in front of the mirror, trying to fix your hair and clothing, ensuring that you didn’t just come back from a sexual experience in the bathroom.

“Dude, look at how much expensive perfume these jagoffs own,” you chuckle amusedly, looking down at the bathroom sink counter. On the surface were several perfumes of Armani, Burberry, Dolce & Gabbana, as well as a few lotions.

“Hey, don’t—don’t touch those, Y/n.” Too late. You sprayed him with one.

You two grimaced at the scent.

“Well shit, I didn’t even know what I expected,” you cough severely, waving your hand around your nose as you despised the shitty perfume’s smell.

“I told you not to touch them, idiot,” he huffs, buckling his belt as he scowled at the odor.

“Don’t be a dickwad, you totally would’ve been curious enough to try them too,” you scoff, looking through the cabinets of the bathroom mirror and sinks. “Hey, look,” you smirk, throwing a small object at him that you had found.

He caught it involuntarily with his hands and inspected the item: it was a bottle of Viagra. He raised an eyebrow, looking at you and laughed softly. “I am not surprised that these old fucks can’t get it on,” he threw it back at you and you shelved it back in its original place.

You watch him take a hit from his vape and you sigh from boredom. You didn’t want to be in this bathroom any longer, but you definitely didn’t want to be out in the party either.

“Dude, I’m bored,” you whine as he handed you his vape pen.

“‘Sup Bored, I am Derek,” he muttered sarcastically, under his breath. You rolled your eyes and handed him back his vape once you were done with it.

“Can you—can you not?” you mumble exasperatedly in response as he just raised an eyebrow in amusement.

“Okay, let’s go,” he says, making his way towards the door, “We’re getting out of here, you can ride with me.”

“Hold on,” you interject quickly. “We should—I mean—I should probably wait a few minutes after you leave the bathroom to get out. You know, so no one will suspect us if we were to, like, walk out of the bathroom together.”

“Right. Yeah. Yeah, you have a point,” he nods.

You had to be careful from now on, realizing that just through the mere plan of leaving the bathroom alternately. This meant you had to be more delicate and thoughtful with every action and word that came from you—and Derek’s—to keep this messy secret.

***

You were laid on the bed beside Derek, one hand tangled in his hair and the other holding an ice cream cone as the bright colors of the TV in front of you nearly blinded your eyes. Your arm was propped up behind Derek’s head in order to play with his hair, feeling the soft curls brushing your palm and fingertips. The two of you looked intensely at the screen as you ate your ice cream in one hand, which was graciously prepared by Derek’s personal chef.

“Dude, Jar Jar Binks was definitely a Sith Lord,” you blurt in a low mutter. Derek turns his head and looks at you in befuddlement.

“What? No. Y/n, no, no, no, do not get started on this again—”

“I’m just saying, dude, that whole ‘goofy idiot’ appearance was hiding the fact that he was a powerful Sith Lord!” You exclaim passionately. “Have you seen his fighting style?”

“Yes, I’ve seen his fighting style, and it looks as if he’s chugged twenty fuckin’ martinis, then atrociously became crossfaded through several, reckless bong rips,” he replied straightforwardly.

You pause briefly as you realized. “Derek, I swear, if that was a reference to that one hangover I had back in December, I swear fucking to god—”

He met you with silence.

You nearly whisper, “Was it?”

The smirk that rose onto his lips told you everything, and you playfully smacked the top of his head since your hand was already there before, tangled in his hair. “Ow,” he muttered, yet his smirk never ceasing. “Look, all I’m saying is that I respect you for that. You are, like, the craziest person I know in the best fucking way possible.”

“Uh, thanks, I guess,” you mumble, fighting the inevitable curl of your lips that formed a flattered, soft grin. “Okay, anyways, all I’m saying, is that not only was it a tactic to trick his opponents, but he could’ve also been using the force! And how many times has he avoided death?”

“Okay, Y/n, that’s enough, lay off the grass,” he jokes, letting out a low snicker. “How is Jar Jar even relevant? We—we aren’t even watching the prequels, isn’t this The Empire Strikes Back?”

“No, I’m pretty sure we’re watching Return of the Jedi,” you say confidently.

“No, this is—this is definitely Empire Strikes Back,” he refutes, then pauses. “Did we seriously forget?”

“Well, there’s a billion of movies in this franchise, so we’re bound to mix up its titles. Hm, well, it can’t be The Empire Strikes Back, because Return of the Jedi is the one with that sexy Leia outfit,” you reason, shrugging. Derek raises an eyebrow. “Okay, okay, you know what, this isn’t even the point, the point is, that Jar Jar is relevant because it’s fuckin’ Star Wars!”

“Whatever,” Derek rolls his eyes with an amused grin that swiftly transitioned into a mischievous smirk. “You look like Jar Jar,” he mumbles.

You let out a playful, offended gasp. “Oh yeah? You look like Jabba the Hut.”

His head turned directly towards you and let out a exaggerated gasp as well. “Fuck you, you look like Yoda!”

“And you look like that fucking gremlin-looking piece of shit that’s Jabba’s pet!”

“Yeah, well, you look like—”

This continued a little longer until the both of you got too tired, unable to think of any more ugly Star Wars characters to compare each other to—which then resulted in a peaceful truce.

Your fingers proceeded to play with Derek’s curls as you took a bite of your ice cream, then letting your head rest on his shoulder. With this action, however, you suddenly thought about the night before and how things had led up to that event.

“Hey, are there any sex scenes in this?” You ask quietly, feeling his short strands of hair tangle loosely around your fingers.

He scoffs with a slight grin. “It’s a fucking Star Wars movie.”

You two burst out laughing. “Right, right, that’s—you have a point,” you giggle, catching your breath. “Oh, thank god, then.”

“Why? Are you that against having a repeat of last night?” He accuses, attempting to sound more playful, rather than the genuine concern that he felt.

“No, it’s just—” You struggled to think about how you wanted to word it. “I really like this. You know? I’m too tired, I’m very comfy, I…” You nuzzled further into his neck as your head rested on his shoulder. “This is nice. I like this.”

He smiles warmly to himself. “I like this too.”

The rest of the night was quite tame. You finished your ice cream before you finished the movie. Except, you didn’t really finish the movie entirely, because you two fell asleep in each other’s arms in the middle of it. Yet seen through your easy laughter and smiles, you were reassured indubitably: nothing was ever going to change between the two of you.

#derek danforth #derek danforth x reader #derek danforth x you #derek danforth x gn!reader #derek danforth smut #the beekeeper #the beekeeper movie #the beekeeper fanfic #josh hutcherson #josh hutcherson x reader #mike schmidt x reader #josh futturman x reader #clapton davis x reader #gender neutral #gender neutral reader

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merchelsea · 9 months

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hotel room - charles leclerc

pairing: charles leclerc + fem!reader

summary: charles decided to rent a room in a hotel that was not associated with f1 to take girls into without causing any drama, but it turns out that asking for extreme discretion on a cheap hotel is not a great idea.

author's note: this is obviously going to have a part two, i'm not a monster to leave you hanging like this

word count: 5,3k

part two

"hello?" you blurted out after a long minute of awkward silence in your hotel room. two men lay on your bed.

at first, you thought they were employees, but it took you exactly ten seconds to realize they weren't. first, because they stood there, just looking at you; second, because people who work in hotels don't typically carry louis vuitton suitcases.

"we didn't ask for room service." one of them told you. he had water-blue eyes, brown hair, a short beard, and a strong french accent.

"this is my room." you replied shortly. they exchanged puzzled glances while you stood there waiting.

"well, surely you got the number wrong. this one is mine." the other man said, showing you his key. the first man was handsome, but the second was exceptionally good-looking.

his green eyes, perfectly brushed brown hair, and the little facial hair he had fit together with the rest of his features, making him one of the most beautiful man you had ever seen. his accent was just as strong. were french men always this good-looking?

the logo on his red t-shirt, which you recognized all too well due to your tifosi brother's passion, left little doubt that he was likely in melbourne for the race.

"i did not" you insisted, showing him your own key. he furrowed his eyebrows and got up from your bed.

"they probably just gave you the wrong key." he had came closer and you handed him your key for him to see.

"no they didn't, i have this confirmed for the past two weeks. room 81 is mine." you had the right room, but so did he. and the worst part is that you both had your ways to prove it.

he looked back at his friend, and the three of you silently thought about what to do.

"call them, they must have an explanation for all of this." the blue-eyed man suggested. "i told you this wasn't a good idea." he mumbled to his friend, and french-number-two proceeded to follow french-number-one's advice.

they picked up immediately, and the ferrari fan asked someone to come. the silence lingered until a blonde woman, dressed in her work attire, entered the room.

"hello, sir. how can i help you?" she glanced you up and down dismissively. you thought, 'Bitch', but refrained from saying it out loud. you looked at the men to see if they had noticed, and french-number-one apparently had.

"we seem to have a complication here," he began. you moved closer, realizing that you were part of the problem too. "it looks like we both got the same room." he pointed at you.

the woman tilted her head to the side. "that's not possible." she said. a smile planted on her lips.

"well, obviously it is." you retorted, delicately handing her your phone for her to see the reservation. "just have one of us moved, please." you needed rest after a twenty-one-hour flight, and dealing with this was not what you had in mind.

"well, miss, that is not my job, but i'm pretty sure my colleagues can’t help you with that either." you and french-number-two stood silent as she explained that the hotel had run out of rooms due to the race happening in melbourne on sunday.

"what do people find so entertaining about this car thing, after all?" you mused aloud as you sat on the bed.

"oh, i don't know," the blue eyed laughed, while the green eyed looked at you, seemingly offended. you closed your eyes for a couple of seconds, trying to collect your thoughts. "well, can you tell your colleagues who deal with this to sort this out? you're not planning on making them share a room, are you?"

"no, sir. i’m sorry. you two can come with me, and i'll take you to talk to someone," she implored, begging them forgiveness with her eyes, though she never glanced your way.

whether she was desperate to get laid or they were important clients to the hotel, you couldn't help but feel enraged. you resisted the urge to scream, "i'm here too," and instead remained silent as you followed her to a more private area of the hotel.

the woman took you to a room that looked like an office, where a brunette sat behind a desk, wearing a superior expression. same expression that faded as soon as she looked the frenchman’s direction.

the blonde left the three of you alone, and the ferrari fan explained the situation to the woman behind the desk. she instructed you to sit, so she could make a call to figure out what happened. so you did, and in silence you heard her fingers press the numbers she intended.

your mind was elsewhere when the man next to you whispered, "what's your name?" his accent so strong that you were sure english wasn't his first language.

"y/n. what’s yours?" you whispered back.

"charles," he replied, his name matching the idea you had of him.

"now i can finally stop calling you french-number-two in my mind." you remarked. he furrowed his brows, and you cursed him for looking so good like this.

"wait, why is pierre french-number-one?" pierre was also a french name, you realized, amused by your accentology.

"he was the first one to talk, and everything about him just screams french." you explained.

"fair point, but I'm actually not french," Charles confessed. you looked at him with curiosity. “i’m monegasque.”

"that makes sense," you replied with a nod, and couldn't help but notice how well the name suited him.

"i’m sorry, i figured out what happened," the woman interrupted, her tone now more professional. "firstly, I would like to apologize to both of you for all of this mess. miss, you reserved and paid for the room two weeks ago, while..." she gestured toward charles. "you called us later. it turns out the person you spoke to that day is a fan of yours and gave you our best room without checking. we are very, very sorry, for this misfortune and we'll do everything we can to provide you with some comfort."

charles and you exchanged glances. you were curious with what she said about a fan, but you decided not to ask. on the other hand, he was preoccupied with how unprofessional this situation was turning out to be.

"well, 'comfortable' would be if we could have separate rooms," the, now known as monegasque, complained.

"that, i cannot offer, but we can transfer one of you to our affiliate hotel, which is an hour and a half from here and offers excellent service quality." anything that didn’t mess things up like this would be great.

both charles and you shook your heads in unison, declining the offer.

"it's too far from where i have to be." you informed her, hoping that charles had plans close to this hotel she talked about.

"exactly, it's too far for me too." he confirmed, and luck seemed to be as far from you as possible, even when you needed the most.

"i'm very sorry, but it appears you'll have to share the room." the woman concluded.

you took a deep breath and left the room before you could say something offensive. charles followed you.

"we can make this work," he said.

"we better." you replied with a sigh.

"i need some sleep too," you groaned when charles asked you to vacate the room until 2 a.m.

"it's friday! why are you planning on sleeping at 6 p.m. on a friday?"

"because i just endured an incredibly long and exhausting flight. i'm desperate for some rest." you explained as you collapsed onto the bed, struggling to keep your eyes open.

"why don't we let you do that now, and then pierre here can pick you up later so I can have the room for a couple of hours? you can sleep as much as you'd like when you return, i promise." charles suggested, making a last offer.

he had given up hope right after revealing his plans to you, mainly due to the disapproving look you gave him. it's not an everyday thing that you're asked to leave your room just because your unexpected roommate wanted to have a girl over.

"i want fresh sheets when i get back." you demanded as you headed to the bathroom to change into more comfortable sleepwear. the monegasque nearly jumped for joy when you agreed to this insanity.

"thank you, thank you, thank you." he repeated numerous times to express his gratitude. you could still hear his excited exclamations inside the private compartment. suddenly, you remembered that you had no idea where you were going.

"pierre can pick me up to go where, exactly?" you raised your voice so they could hear you clearly.

they remained silent for a moment, and you understood that they hadn't thought this through. after all, this was a bad thing for the both of you.

"i know of a few clubs i can take you to, i guess," pierre yelled back, his uncertainty evident in his tone.

"what do you wear to a club in melbourne?"

"something nice, i don't know, i'm not a woman. just wear whatever you wear to a club." you chuckled to yourself and returned to the bedroom.

"okay," you said, facing them again and ready to get some rest. "now, you two french things, get out. i'm going to catch up on some jet lag."

"i'm not french." charles mumbled as he exited the room, followed closely by pierre.

the actual frenchman retorted, "i don't think she cares at the moment."

with that, you found yourself alone, left only with your exhaustion and the comforting embrace of your bed.

you stirred awake, the relentless pounding in your head a cruel reminder of the little sleep you had. slowly, you opened your eyes, and the now familiar blue gaze of pierre greeted you.

"hey," he began with an apologetic tone, "charles insisted i wake you up. i'm sorry."

sleepily, you tried to check the time, scanning the unfamiliar room for a clock, anything to anchor you to melbourne's time zone.

"it's around ten, i think." pierre informed you once he realized what you were trying to do. he settled on the edge of the bed when you decided to sit up. "you need to go get ready, i'll take you to eat something."

"what are you? my body guard?" you smiled to him, still dizzy. the four hours you slept doing nothing but giving you a headache. "i can get my own food pierre."

he quickly shook his head. "charles would murder me." he confesses, his words leaving you puzzled. your groggy expression must have been quite evident. "i think the remorse is kicking in. he even tried to bribe me to stick by your side."

"how thoughtful of him," irony slips through your smile as you speak. "he does realize i would have preferred if he'd just let me sleep instead?"

"his brain has its limits." he lets out a chuckle and you sight, needing much more of that sleep you just woke up from.

dragging yourself out of bed, you clutched your suitcase and shuffled into the bathroom, determined to transform into a club worthy version of yourself.

with time in short supply, you limited your skincare routine to a quick facial cleanse and your trusty hydrating lotion. makeup took you, surprisingly, just a few minutes; you decided to go for a no-makeup, makeup look. the real problem lay in choosing the right outfit.

in your haste, it seemed you had packed either too much or too little to this club. with your birthday at the door, you had plans to party, socialize, and maybe even get a little wild. yet, the occasion left you stuck between a simple cropped top and jeans or your favorite dress, which felt a bit too extravagant.

of course you had tons of clubbing clothes with you, but you couldn't wear those. you soon enough realized they weren't regular people who worked in offices, and now that you knew charles even had fans it was all a lot more complicated. so where do people, who seem to be famous, take the girl that's stuck sharing a room with their friend?

that's when your white skirt caught your eye. it hugged you figure perfectly as if made specifically for you to use it. a quick search revealed the white, long sleeved top you'd thrown into the bag last minute. together, they formed the ideal clothing for the night ahead.

this may not have been part of your initial plans, but you were determined to make the most of it and fulfill your primary goal for this trip — meeting new people.

you step out of the bathroom, fully prepared to head out to wherever pierre decides to take you. he lounges on the bed, engrossed in his phone until you approach and gently pat his knee.

"get up." you instruct him, and his gaze sweeps up and down your body. it's only then that you take notice of his outfit – light blue jeans paired with a simple white shirt. it's casual yet an excellent choice.

you briefly wonder if you might be overdoing, but the thoughts quickly dissipate. "you certainly know how to dress for a night out in melbourne." he says, referencing your previous conversation.

"i wasted a considerable amount of time picking out these clothes," you admit and motion for him to rise so you can tidy the bed.

in a matter of minutes, your suitcase has been stowed away, and your phone now rests securely in your purse.

"what are you in the mood for dinner?" he inquires as you leave the room behind, ensuring everything is clean and ready for charles' girl later.

"anything," you reply, your hand instinctively moving to your stomach. "literally anything, i'm starving." you add, emphasizing your hunger.

"alright then, we’re going for italian" he decides, and you nod in agreement, already imagining the delectable Italian dishes that await, making your stomach growl even louder.

after returning to the room, well past 3 a.m., you tiptoed in to find charles cocooned in the sheets, presumably asleep. you quietly went to your suitcase, took your pajamas, and moved to the bathroom. after changing, you removed all you makeup, getting your face clean before heading out to bed. you hadn't put on that much, but you didn't like to sleep with it.

with hushed movements, you fetched your charger and silenced your phone, choosing to ignore your friend's texts.

the night had exceeded your expectations. initially hesitant when they suggested going out with pierre, who by then was a complete stranger, you eventually embraced the idea of this little escape.

pierre took you to a charming restaurant that couldn't be more your vibe. the ambiance, delicious food, and nice people made it a really great experience. you mentally thanked whatever god made you go out with this french stranger.

after getting to know each other a bit, you both headed to a club where you met a lot of new people, including some of pierre's friends. you couldn't have been happier about skipping that sleep.

as you slipped under the blankets, a voice startled you, "it's past three."

whispering, you responded to charles, "i thought you were asleep."

"i'm not, but it's past three," he repeated, his voice heavy with sleepiness.

"yeah, i know." you said, already nestled comfortably in bed.

"i told pierre to bring you back at two so you could rest; i've been waiting."

"oh, i met some of his friends and stayed a bit longer." you explained, turning your back to him. "are these sheets fresh?"

he chuckled softly, "yes. which friends did you meet?"

"a lot of people which i can't remember the names now. his girlfriend kika, a goddess. and some guy named lindo, landon, i think that's his name." you replied, still unsure of the pronunciation.

charles laughed at your attempt, "his name is lando. no 'i' or 'n'"

"not too far off," you quipped.

"if you say so..."

"oh, I have a question for you," you turned to face him, even if the room was in absolute darkness and you couldn't see a thing. "what do you guys work with? there were bodyguards and security procedures all night. i couldn't understand a damn thing."

an "oh" lingers in the air for a while. this was a topic the monegasque wanted to avoid as much as possible. he knew that you would figure it out, eventually, he just wanted to stick with "charles, the normal (french) dude" for a little longer.

"we're formula one drivers," he confesses. you burst into laughter. "i'm serious. i drive for ferrari, and pierre drives for alpine."

"shut up! you know lewis hamilton in person?" you didn't know much about motorsports, but c'mon, everyone knows lewis. "i do, actually." he's puzzled about why that was your first question.

"i recognized the logo on your shirt earlier. my brother's a fan, but i thought you were here just to watch the race."

"in a way, i am, just from a different perspective," he jokes. "how's your brother going to react when you tell him you're sharing a room with charles leclerc?"

"go back to sleep, charles leclerc." you tease, struggling to pronounce his name correctly.

"don't ever try that again." he laughs, turning his back to you.

"oh shut up." you playfully retorted.

you found yourself leaping onto your bed without bothering to check if charles was already there as night fell. meeting new people was exciting, but reuniting with old friends held a special charm. reconnecting with people ranked in the top three of your favorite things to do, even though it could be quite exhausting.

to be totally fair, you were tired because of the entire week you had just gone through. completing 26 out of 43 items on your bucket list was not easy, but you managed it all within a week and a day.

sharing the room with charles turned out to be much more enjoyable than expected. he was not only a genuinely nice guy but also a source of constant entertainment. when you went to bed, boredom was never an option as charles would introduce you to new games you'd never heard of and make you learn them to play with him.

it was really easy to get along with him, and you understood that as time passed and you were getting closer. sharing a room became something you no longer detested.

suppressing the urge to surrender to sleep, you got up to change and the next moments blurred together. all you could recall was your roommate entering a little while after you.

that’s until, in the middle of the night, your phone erupted with numerous notifications.

“geez, are you famous or something?” charles mumbled, awakened by the noise.

“it’s on your side, please turn it down." you groaned, covering your ears with a pillow. he reached for your phone but accidentally read one of the 47 notifications.

"happy birthday? is it your birthday?" he asked.

you buried your face in the pillow as more notifications poured in. "just turn that down," you demanded. "I love my friends, but this is too much." you knew they were doing it on purpose because of the lack of communication. this was their way of reminding you that you couldn’t be rid of them for so much time.

“it’s your birthday?” he inquired, sitting up.

“yeah, officially 22 now!” you replied, cursing the friends responsible for your rude awakening. exhausted, you had forgotten that your 6-hour nap was meant to be a quick one.

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY!” charles exclaimed, throwing himself into an enthusiastic yet somewhat ungraceful hug. you laughed and thanked him. "why didn't you mention it earlier?"

“it didn’t come up.” you said, returning the hug.

"and do you have any plans for today?" he asked, returning to his original position.

"not really. i thought i might visit some places here in melbourne," you answered, rubbing your eyes.

"do you want to come watch the race then? consider it my birthday gift. if you'd mentioned it earlier, i would've prepared something better." the driver offered.

"i suppose the tickets must be sold out. have you seen how many people are here these past few days? there are no rooms since last week." you informed him.

"and you think I'd let you watch from the stands? no way. you'll… i mean, you would be in the Ferrari garage." he said with conviction.

"that sounds boring." you complain.

"is that a yes?" he asked, seeing a glimmer of a smile in your eyes. "i'll do my best to win, just for you."

“isn’t that your job?” you teased.

"yes, but doing it for you adds a little extra pressure," he admitted. you nodded in agreement, and he reclined again. "now, go to sleep. tomorrow is your big day."

"big day," you mimicked in a comical male voice, turning on your side. "thank you, charles."

"yeah, no problem." he replied. you couldn’t see him now, but you knew he was wearing a smile, and it made you smile too.

"wake up." you heard, your senses slowly returning. as you opened your eyes, you found kika, pierre's girlfriend, looking down at you.

what is it with people waking you up? it's always someone new.

"hey. it's time to get ready." even though your head was a big question mark, you did as she asked and sat up. she sat right before you.

"did charles sent you?" you inquired.

"no, he just told me you'd be coming to the race and since we've met that other night, i thought i would come to make you some company." she replied with a warm smile. "happy birthday, girl." she opened her arms for you and you embraced her immediately.

"thank you." you murmured into the hug. "do you want to get ready together?" you proposed. "i'm going to need some guidance."

"of course." her smile was the most beautiful one you had ever seen and it made your heart melt. "i'll just have to leave you alone with all the birthday wishes to get something to wear, and i'll be back soon."

"okay, see you in a bit." as she left, the first thing you did was grab your phone and start replying the overwhelming (and exaggerated) number of messages from your friend group. after that, you called your brother, not only because he asked so but also to let him know where you would be spending the day.

when kika returned, you were on the phone with your mother, crying your heart out. she loved you so much, and her words never failed to touch your soul.

"i love you too, mum." you whispered and ended the call. francisca smiled at you from the other side of the room. "come on, let's get ready." you wiped away your tears and got up from the bed.

yesterday, while charles slept peacefully, your mind had traveled through your current wardrobe to find the perfect outfit to wear. you knew it had to be ferrari red, but it also needed to make you feel special because it was your birthday.

in the end, you chose the red dress you had recently purchased. it seemed perfect for the occasion. as you shuffled through your clothes to retrieve it, kika had a chance to admire the piece.

"oh my god, that dress is going to look so good on you." she exclaimed excitedly and you both smiled as you made your way to the bathroom.

kika opted for a white button-up oversized shirt paired with pink pants that you discovered matched the colors of alpine's livery. She looked gorgeous, as always.

as you expected, your dress fell amazingly on you body, and it was incredibly comfortable. it wasn't an overly extravagant party dress, but it was just right for special occasions like your birthday.

"so, tell me what's charles doing here." the brunette asked when you both started getting your faces ready for make-up.

"charles?" she confirmed, and you glanced at your reflection in the mirror, somewhat oblivious to what she was referring to. "what's he doing here?" she repeated the question. "sleeping?" you half-answered, half-asked.

"yeah, of course, but why is he sleeping here." your eyes met hers through the mirror, and you noticed the smile on her lips.

"because it's his hotel room too, i guess."

"pierre told me that, but why is he still sleeping in this room if he has the one ferrari got him? he has one, doesn't he?" she asked.

"i don’t know." the truth was, you hadn't even thought about it. the monegasque had never told you, and you never asked, so you assumed this was indeed his only room.

"okay i’ll try again. what's going on between you two?" she smiled at you, a knowing look in her eyes.

"nothing," you replied as quickly as the question got to you. "seriously, tell me. you can trust me." she persisted, trying to get something out of you.

"i am telling you, kika." you laughed. in her mind, it was obvious that something was going on because there was no way the charles leclerc she knew would trade a king-sized bed in a five-star hotel for a cheap one he'd have to share.

"are you seriously telling me there's nothing going on between you two when he ditched a rich and attractive model for you, is lying to his team to come sleep in this room when he probably has a much better one waiting for him every night, and hasn't been bar-hopping to stay here teaching you how to play chess? Not to mention that he's taking you to a race to meet his team and friends. do you know how many girls he took to watch a race?" the portuguese counted on her fingers dramatically, as if accusing you of a proper crime.

you continued doing your makeup as she spoke, but you didn't miss a single word. in fact, you paid close attention to everything she said, the words penetrating your bones and getting to your brain automatically.

"yes, i am telling you that." you began and she sighed in response. "what do you mean he ditched a hot model for me?" curiosity filled your body when you heard that, you had to ask.

"that first night when we met, i know he was supposed to meet up with her because she was also a friend of mine, but he didn't show up. when i asked pierre about it, the only thing he said was your name." your face displayed confusion as you applied some contour to your cheek. you stoped what you were doing right away.

you were confused, yes. but you were also slightly irritated, because if the driver hadn't gone to meet that model, you could have slept through the night and avoided the exhausting day that followed.

"i assumed you guys had fancied each other, like love at first sight or something." you shook your head to deny it and picked up your pencil to blend the previously applied contour.

"that did not happen." another sigh left her throat and a question lingered in the tip of your tongue, ready to come out as soon as you opened your mouth. you weren't sure if you should ask, but you were certain you wanted an answer. "the thing you said about the number of girls he took to a race. how many?"

her lips immediately curved as if she said 'nothing may have happened, but you are interested', and of course you were.

who wouldn't be? charles was majestic, a genuinely good guy who knows how to treat people right, and he looked like the most adorable person in the world while sleeping. you would be lying if you said you didn't find him attractive, but he appeared too friendly for you to believe that he even considered flirting with you.

"two, and they were his girlfriends at the time." the smile never left her lips, but your mind was far from her grin.

you eventually finished getting ready, and so did she, a few seconds after. you chatted the whole way to the paddock, only stopping to catch your breath. kika apologized to you for pressing you to tell her what she wanted to hear, but you didn't mind; you knew you would do the same if the roles were reversed.

your social anxiety flared up when francisca had to go in a different direction to reach the alpine garage, but it quickly dissipated when your eyes found a familiar face approaching you with a smile.

charles hugged you once he was close enough and whispered a quiet "hey." he was well aware of how risky it was to show affection in public, especially with all the shit press would give him and possibly even give you. let's just say that he didn't really care.

he guided you to the garage, where you met carlos sainz, his teammate, and bumped into lando, whom you had met on your first night in australia.

meeting lando brought back all the thoughts kika had shared earlier, and those thoughts stayed with you.

charles must have mentioned your birthday to his team because every person you passed by wished you a happy day. you graciously smiled and thanked them, walking by his side.

he briefly introduced you to everything you needed to know and hugged you goodbye when he had to go. you snapped a lot of pictures to send to your brother, and when the race started, you paid close attention to every moment.

the headphones made it harder to zone out as you normally would but you appreciated that. being new to this world, you didn't understand a single word you heard, but that didn't stop you from trying.

all you knew was that the team was incredibly pleased with charles and carlos's performance today. It was evident from their tone and the broad smiles on their faces.

the spark in their eyes intensified when charles overtook the last driver, securing his lead in the race. from what someone told you, a first and fourth-place finish was a significant achievement for scuderia ferrari, and you could know it was true by the fans' excitement.

both ferrari drivers managed to maintain their positions, finishing the race with what appeared to be an outstanding result. you weren't entirely sure what you were cheering for, but you were genuinely happy.

you celebrated with the team and watched the podium ceremony from a distance, still uncertain about where you should be and how to act. you applauded the number 16 and engaged in discussions about his performance with people who had a stake in the matter. from what you heard, he was a really good driver.

people all around you started to move to one direction, and you followed them with your gaze to find the one and only race winner already looking at you. he paused to chat and celebrate with his team, before moving up to you.

opening your arms for him, you embraced him, smiling from ear to ear, genuinely happy for his achievement, even if you didn't fully grasp the significance of a win.

"this one was for you. happy birthday." he whispered in your ear while still holding you close. "thank you, frenchie, and congratulations." you laughed into his shoulder. he playfully protested against your nickname for him but couldn't help but laugh too.

you were engrossed in conversation with him when suddenly, pierre and kika arrived with a cake. everyone in the tifosi garage began singing the "happy birthday" song.

your cheeks flushed, matching the color of your dress within seconds, and you covered your smile with your hands. you were genuinely grateful for these people who didn't even know you but were singing and clapping for you.

the cake they brought was adorned with all your favorite flowers, and now you understood charles' early morning question. as if he could read your thoughts, he approached you, smiling, and hugged you sideways while still singing with his weird accent.

pierre had came closer and at the end of the song you were able to blow out the candles. the smiles on their faces enchanted you, how they all seemed genuinely happy for you, even though it was the first time they had set their eyes on you.

they arranged a table in which pierre placed the cake, and someone handed you a knife to cut it. you, of course, offered the first slice to charles, not only because he knew you best but also because of everything he had done for you. all of this exceeded your expectations.

when you had decided to come to australia to spend some time alone, you could never have imagined what awaited you. not only did you meet new people, but you had also made friends, or at least one friend.

#charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #charles #leclerc #driver x reader #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc blurb #charles leclerc 16 #formula 1 #formula one #formula one story #charles leclerc au #pierre gasly #francisca cerqueira gomes #kika gomes

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enmi-land · 2 months

Text

✶ৎ OUR UNIVERSE

──── 𝗐𝖾’𝗅𝗅 𝖻𝖾 𝗍𝗈𝗀𝖾𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗂𝗇 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗒 𝗎𝗇𝗂𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗌𝖾

AU pairing. poly!ot7엔하 x fem!member oc cw. kms jokes, mentions of murder and violence, not completely lorea accurate (some changes made to og universes - don’t kill me) note. happy birthday to mila! 🎂 this chapter was inspired by ree’s connect, and the universes used in this fic belong to their creators respectively! 🤍 ❨ go back to LIBRARY ?! ❩

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY OUR MILA, happy birthday to you...”

Mila smiled as a cake was set before her, the flames of the candles flickering slightly with the movement of her members around the table, all watching her with adoration in their eyes. The sounds of their voice in harmony as they sang the birthday song slowly came to silence as they reached the end, and a hand found itself on the back of her head, patting it softly.

“Make a wish,” Kiara said gently, her hand on the phone to record the moment her dongsaeng would become another year older, another year away from the young girl she was when they first met.

Mila looked around the room, taking in the sight of her boyfriend's and their love-filled gazes. Just what did one wish for, when they already had everything they could possible want or need? She felt like there was nothing that could possibly make her happier.

Well, except for one.

Mila shut her eyes, her hands linked in front of her, as she wordlessly recited her wish inside her head.

I wish that— no matter where we are—we'll always find a way to be together.

#01. XO KITTY

“THERE’S NO SUN IN THE BUILDING, what’s with these?” Mila swiped the pair of Louis Vuitton sunglasses from Minho’s face using her superior height. She inspected them under the light of the corridor, raising an eyebrow with an impressed hum. “These are pretty cute.”

“Naturally,” Minho replied, crossing his arms over his chest as he leaned against the lockers next to Mila’s. He watched with a smile as she tried the glasses on, looking in the mirror on the inside of her locker door, which was surrounded by Polaroids and cute stickers.

Sharpay Evans, much? were the first words he said about her. He saw her on the first day of KISS Academy, bedazzling her locker with an excessive amount of pink and whispered it under his breath in Korean as he passed by her, not expecting her reaction.

Mila simply turned to him, flipping her long (and enviably silky, though Minho would never admit to out loud) black hair over her shoulder, before giving him a distasteful look from head to toe. And in flawless Korean, she had retorted, Last season Vogue magazine cover, much?

Yeah, Minho had decided, right then and there, despite being stunned into shock. I like this girl.

He had even forgone his usual tradition of pretending not to speak English on the first meeting. (Although, that was because she had an unusual talent for his mother language, despite being from China and supposedly never setting foot on South Korean soil before. To this day, Minho considered her excellency at languages to be an eighth wonder of the world.)

Mila suddenly gasped before hiding behind her locker door, shoving her face so far into the locker one would think she was an ostrich trying to bury her head in sand. Minho raised an eyebrow at her sudden movement. “The police finally caught up to you, have they?” he drawled, ready to list all the felonies she had committed since moving to Korea.

This included, but was not limited to: being way too pretty, way too cute, and way too lovable for her own damn good– not that Minho was keeping track, or anything. That would be ridiculous. He was simply tired of hearing it all the time from his peers.

Mila looked at him with those same wide, doe eyes that had wrapped so many boys and girls around her finger without knowing it. “Worse,” Mila hissed. “It’s them.”

Minho looked up at the end of the hallway, his mouth parting in understanding when he spotted a group of seven familiar boys gathered in a group around the locker of his (self-proclaimed) rival. Minho eyed the Korean-American’s outfit, disdained when he noticed the boy wearing a new pair of shoes that were only just released recently in the new fall collection for Prada. “There’s no way Park Jeongseong is wearing the new shoes I’ve been waiting weeks to order! Oh my god, I’m going to lose it– I’m going to throw up– where’s the bin?”

Mila slapped the boy on the shoulder. “Now’s not the time, Minho! This is a matter of my pride at stake here– I can’t let them see me!”

Minho rubbed his arm, marvelling internally at the amount of strength the girl in front of him held in her body. “Why can’t they see you again?”

“Because they made a total fool of me? And I look like a mess right now– I can’t let them think they’re the reason I’ve been lacking beauty sleep these days.” Mila suddenly got right up to Minho’s face, pulling down his sunglasses from the bridge of her nose. “Have you seen my eyebags recently? They’re horrendous!”

Minho blinked, his face calm as he stared into the abyss known as Mila’s eyes. If he were completely honest, there was nothing in this world that would possibly make Mila unattractive– least of all towards the seven boys she was so scared of making eye contact with. But he didn’t blame her for being insecure. It wasn’t as if they gave her reason to believe that they could feel anything for her… Not when the reason they approached her in the first place and acted so sweetly toward her was because of a bet.

“Why did Kiara and Kitty have to be away today of all days?” Mila whispered under her breath with a pout. “I need girl power, I need validation, I need support– all the things you’re not giving me!”

Minho was affronted when Mila suddenly pointed a manicured finger (My Melody themed acrylics? Really?) at his face. “Hey, it’s not my fault you don’t know how to apply concealer over your dark circles properly.”

Mila shot him a watery glare. “Jerk.”

She aggressively grabbed a bunch of books from her locker, and– Wait, Is that Russian? Minho squinted at one of the titles of the ridiculously thick books in her arms, wondering when Mila had even learnt that language. The eighth wonder, this girl and her brain. I swear.

“If I don’t show up to economics later today, it’s because I buried myself out of humiliation and no longer wish to be on the face of the earth.”

Without another word, Mila scurried her way down the hall like a mouse fleeing before a cat. But she neglected to notice the seven pairs of remorseful eyes following her.

“She’s still avoiding us,” Jungwon noted with a frown, dimples all too prominent in his disappointment. A disappointment reflected across the faces of all seven members of his friend group.

There was an unspoken, lingering regret hanging over them like a guillotine. It had been a week since they were last able to see her smile directed at them, the way her eyes lit up like Seoul at night, galaxies and city lights reflected in the dark depths of her irises. But this was what they deserved. After the way they betrayed her trust, they knew better than to hope that they would be able to be with her like they did before.

To think all of this was because of a stupid bet they made to satisfy their own egos.

Did you hear? Sunoo looked up from his phone to look at the rest of his friends on that fateful night before the beginning of the new school year. They were gathered around a campfire lit in the backyard of Heeseung’s family’s holiday estate, which they spent their summer break in together. Apparently we’re getting a new transfer student this year.

I heard that, Jake said, bringing a bottle of beer to his lips. The daughter of some supermodel from China. My mum keeps talking about how she wished she would model for our agency.

Won’t know until I see her face, Sunghoon replied. It was just like him: Jay always did give him grievances for his lack of awareness when it come to the fashion industry, despite his own stepmother being a designer herself.

To this, Jay turned his phone on before typing something into search. When he was done he held his phone out for his childhood best friend to see the images that appeared. Riki, who was beside Sunghoon, also leaned in to take a closer look. She’s been going viral ever since she went to the Versace anniversary event with her mum.

Riki smiled as he looked at the photo of the young girl, not much older than him. It was a candid shot that captured her delicate features in a soft smile as she observed the models on the runway with her mother whispering something into her ear. He couldn’t help but think she was the one who was most suited to be modelling the clothes, and yet she was simply a spectator.

Pretty, Riki said, before leaning back in his seat. And he wasn’t the only one to think it. I should get her number.

Too bad for you, she doesn’t go for younger guys, Heeseung said with a smirk. She did a Vogue interview, and she said she prefers older guys… So if you think about it, I’m the one with the highest chance of getting close.

That’s what you think, Sunghoon said, his inner competitiveness coming out to play. Wanna bet?

Looking back now, that was the single most foolish thing they’d ever done. To this girl, who treated them with nothing but kindness and genuine care since meeting them, did nothing to deserve being treated like a prize to be won. And yet, that was exactly what they did.

You’re real pieces of work, Mila said, as she stormed into Heeseung’s dorm rooms— the one he had given her access to for less than pure intentions. She didn’t even look angry, nor was she sad: her face was stone cold, nothing at all like the warm girl they came to know her as. I hope you had fun playing me, but too bad for you, none of you are going to win the bet. I won’t be seeing any of you again.

And with that, Mila had thrown the necklace from her neck — the one the seven of them had bought together for her birthday — onto the floor before Sunghoon’s feet, before storming out before any of the boys could make a move to stop her.

“We should have told her sooner,” Riki said, his fist clenching by his side.

Sunoo shook his head. “No. We just shouldn’t have made that stupid bet in the first place.”

They had made the bet to win her heart, thinking it would be all fun and games. But little did they know that like the way, they would be the ones losing their hearts to her — and by the time they realised it, she had already gotten to far for them to reach, leaving them defeated and yearning for something out of reach.

“Do you think she’ll ever forgive us?” Jake asked quietly.

The group fell silent.

“Well don’t you guys look positively miserable.”

Sunghoon rolled his eyes at the familiar voice fork behind him. Minho always did annoy him— but he had to admit, he couldn’t help but be jealous of how close the other boy was to Mila. The fact that he could still tease the girl and see her cute reactions, the same way he used to before everything went south.

“What do you want?” Heeseung asked diplomatically. (He wasn’t fooling anyone, though— everyone could see the way his fist clenched at his side.) “It’s not as if we’re friends.”

Minho smirked. “You’re right. We’re not. But you know who is? Mila and I.”

Jay clenched his jaw, resisting the urge to walk past the cocky male and bump his shoulder, he couldn’t give the other satisfaction at knowing he got on his nerves.

“I can see you still haven’t changed,” Jungwon said, jumping to his friend’s defence.

He narrowed his feline-like eyes, trying to read Minho’s body language. But he genuinely seemed unintimidated by the seven of them, not caring for a second that he was outnumbered. (Because he knew there was nothing the seven of them could do to him, Jungwon’s inner voice reasoned, though he desperately tried to ignore it. Because he knew if they raised a hand against him, Mila would only hate them more.)

“You always did try to one up Jay-hyung at everything,” Jungwon continued. “Too bad you never could.”

“Except when it comes to treating your girl right, you mean?” Minho taunted. At this, Riki lunged towards the male, all too ready to talk with his fists instead. But Sunoo was quick to intervene, holding the younger by the shoulder.

Minho put his hands up in surrender seeing the deadly look in the Japanese male’s eyes. “Hey. No need to get angry. I didn’t come to start a fight, believe it or not.” He fixed his blazer jacket before looking at the eldest of the boys. “Listen… I don’t like you guys, and frankly I don’t think I ever will— especially with that shit you pulled with Mila.”

Minho got closer to Heeseung, causing the latter to cross his arms and raise his chin in defiance. Minho narrowed his eyes.

“But here’s the thing… If you feel sorry at all for breaking her heart, you’re going to make it up to her properly like men instead of hiding like a bunch of cowards. She deserves that much.”

The group was silent as they witnessed the uncharacteristic seriousness of the usually nonchalant boy, and even more so at his words. But before they could say anything, Minho was already stepping away from Heeseung, before getting ready to leave.

“There’s gonna be a party at Kiara’s place later this week for Mila before she flies back home—“

“Mila’s flying back home?!” Sunghoon said in shock, his cold facade melted in place of his heated desperation.

Minho hummed. “She’s going to be leaving for the summer break… But who knows if she’ll be back?” He shrugged. "Anyway, I've done my bit. Whatever you do with that information... Well, that's none of my business."

Minho turned to leave, but was stopped by a hand on his wrist.

“How do we get into the party?” Jake asked desperately. This would be their only chance to meet with Mila if they could pull it off— their last chance to make things right before she left on the plane to China. They couldn't leave things as they were. Not when there were so many thing they had to say.

At that moment, all seven boys were thinking the same thing: They needed to show her that despite the fraudulent circumstances that brought them together, the boys’ feelings for her were true.

#02. JUJUTSU KAISEN

THERE WAS NOTHING NORMAL about two teenagers swinging weapons at each other in the lawn of a high school. But Seoul Jujutsu Technical College was no ordinary institution; nor were their students any ordinary teenagers. For this was the trianing grounds for a generation of future Jujutsu Sorcerers – protectors of society against sentient manifestations of negative emotions known as Curses.

The sound of steel clashing with steel rang throughout the air as Riki and Sunghoon continued to swing at each other, the former wielding dual blades and the latter wielding one. They sparred like they were mirror reflections of a choreographed dance: attacking in time for one of them to deflect, and lunging when the other withdrew. Each blow came in the span of seconds — barely enough time for the average human to register.

But their spectators were anything but average.

“Did your parents mention it already?” Kiara asked her childhood best friend — and only other fourth year at the school — beside her, not once taking her eyes of her sparring juniors. Heeseung wordlessly quirked a brow in response to her question, prompting her to continue. “The main clans in China have been in a mess recently.”

“Ah, that,” Heeseung said, resting his chin on his palm. “The thing about the Bai Clan, right?”

It was a hot topic amongst Jujutsu Sorcerers in South-East Asia, where news between the different countries — especially Japan, China and South Korea, the so-called Big Three of the East for their production of top tier sorcerers — often travelled fast due to their close connections with one another, dating back to ancient wars fought between allied forces of Jujutsu Sorcerers from the respective countries against legendary Curses.

One of the strongest clans in China, the Bai Clan from Shanghai, had a history of powerful sorcerers since the Ming Dynasty. But lately, the Bai clan has been at the centre of controversy: their most dangerous and treasured artefact, the Emperor Jade, had recently gone missing — stolen right beneath their noses.

“Apparently they suspect the Zenin clan… but it seems pretty far-fetched to me.”

Kiara couldn’t care less about the matters of the Bai or Zenin clan. She hated them almost as much they hated each other, as the both of them harboured a tradition of misogynistic treatment of women born in their clans. But this was a matter of safety of innocent lives that could be harmed in the crossfire of their feud if the rumours were true, so she had no choice but to feel concerned.

“It is far-fetched.” Jake leaned forward from his seat on the stair above Heeseung and Kiara, intrigue laced in his voice. “Because I did some sneaking around and overheard my dad talking to someone yesterday… Apparently, it’s here in Korea right now.”

The two eldest students looked up to Jake with curious expressions. “Here?”

They knew they could trust any intel gathered from Jake and his family. Despite being based in Korea, they were also known for having roots planted all over the globe through intermarriage with foreign clans, making them a spider web catching all sorts of information.

Jay, who tuned into their conversation, nodded in agreement. “It makes sense. The Bai clan requested to send out some of their Sorcerers here for a ‘diplomatic’ event — but it seems a little suspicious, especially given the timing. Why would they send their best sorcerers away from their home, when they should be focusing on finding their lost Object first?”

“At any rate, I doubt the thief is gonna get far with it,” Sunoo chimed in from where he sat, on the stair closest to the lawn where Sunghoon and Riki were starting to reach the end of their battle — the younger being backed into a corner.

Heeseung hummed. “I’m more interested in how they stole it— and for what reason.”

“Everyone, gather around.”

The students all stood at attention hearing the sound of their teacher, Rain, who stood at the top of the staircase, overlooking the eight of them below. But what caught their attention wasn’t necessarily the man himself. It was the girl who stood beside him, one they’ve never met before, and who was wearing their uniform: a black military blazer with a pleated skirt and knee high stockings.

“Teach,” Riki greeted. He and the students gathered around the teacher, all curious about the sudden appearance of this stranger.

“Who’s this?” Sunoo asked, eyes scanning the girl up and down.

She was pretty, was the first observation he made. She had long blonde hair (dyed, he concluded) and looked like a princess out of a fairytale, with the way she stood with her hands folded neatly in front of her. The way she carried herself was too poised, too proper to match the average teenager. Sunoo couldn’t put his finger on it, but something about her just seemed… other.

“This is Mila,” Rain introduced, “your new classmate.”

“New classmate?” Jay asked with a quirked brow.

It wasn’t as if he was opposed to the idea, but it was rather sudden. Still, he couldn’t say anything to question the choice before the girl bowed, as if on cue, smiling in a way that had her eyes crinkling endearingly. “Nice to meet you all,” she said. “Please take care of me.”

For as long as Mila survived, anyway.

Mila already knew she wouldn’t be able to last long before her clan finally found her. Running from them was the most reckless choice she could have made. But just once in her life, she wanted to rebel against them — to pay them back for all the times they belittled her, casted her aside simply for the fact that they couldn’t accept the sole heir to their clan after the passing of the previous head was a girl.

Just like the clan took away everything that was precious to her — her freedom, her autonomy, and most of all, her mother — she too had stolen the one thing most precious to them. The green jade ornament that hung from her neck like the yoke of an ox. The Emperor Jade.

She hadn’t expected to be spared by the Korean sorcerers who found her. Instead of releasing her from this mortal life which was both woeful and wonderful, they integrated her in their society and promised to hide her as best as they could from her clan. But she supposed it was only natural: She had a weapon that could be of great use to them, especially with their growing rates of suicide and declining mental health that attributed to their abnormally high levels of Curses on a global scale. It was better to keep her close than to give her away.

Whatever the reason, though, she fully intended on embracing this new chance at life she was given.

“So…”

Jungwon glanced awkwardly at Mila. He was just absolutely adorable, his round face and dimpled cheeks making it nearly impossible for Mila not to reach over and pinch his cheek. His shyer personality only made him all the more endearing to her. And for once, she thought she might be smitten for a boy she just met.

“You’re Rain-seonsangnim’s niece?” the redhead asked.

Mila resisted the urge to frown. It was true in a sense: her aunty, who had left the clan years ago with her older cousin, ended up remarrying, with Jung ‘Rain’ Jihoon as her husband. Still, the man was a stranger to Mila until yesterday. Calling him ‘uncle’ was more difficult than she would like to admit. But she had to, since it was part of her cover story on why she suddenly appeared out of nowhere.

“Yeah,” she said with a small smile. She changed the subject in case anyone asked any questions of why she didn’t go to their school until now. “Uncle Jihoon told me about how you were the new student before I joined… So I guess that makes you my senior.”

“Eyyyy, that can’t be right!” Sunoo denied with a laugh. Mila really liked the sound of it, and the way it wrapped her in a similar warmth to the sun that shone above them. “We’re the same age, so you can’t let the younger ones be casual with you, otherwise they might do the same to me.”

Mila giggled. “Really? Okay. But since I’m not really your senior…” Mila hummed before smiling at Jungwon. “Instead of ‘sunbaenim’, you can call me ‘noona,’ instead.”

Jungwon’s face burned, his face now the same shade of red as his strawberry-coloured hair. “O-okay.”

So cute! Mila internallly cooed.

“How good are you with weapons?” Riki, the youngest student at the school, asked curiously.

He was a cutie too, even if he towered over Mila with his insane height. One would usually use the word ‘cool’ to describe someone like him, but for some reason, Mila had the urge to pat his head — a very odd feeling for her, considering she wasn’t the affectionate type.

“I’m decent,” she said vaguely, not giving the younger the satisfaction of a straightforward answer. “I’m better without them, though.”

Jake, who had the looks and aura of a typical Hollywood heartthrob, flashed a captivating grin. From the moment they met, Mila could tell he was a flirt — and she wouldn’t be lying if she said he was a good one, at that. “Oh, so you’re good with your hands, are you?”

Mila almost choked on her spit. Both because of the comment, and the way the only other female student, Kiara, had slapped the boy on the back of his head with a resounding echo that made the other guys cringe in second-hand pain. (Or was it embarrassment? Judging from the side eye coming from Sunoo, it was probably the latter.)

“Well,” Riki cut in once again. “If you’re that confident, you wouldn’t mind giving us a demo, right?”

Jay sighed, bringing a hand up to massage his forehead. It was amusing that he had such a macho appearance, and yet he was the most well-mannered among the boys as far as Mila could tell. It was unfair how he was just her type: not only was he drop-dead gorgeous, he was a gentleman too.

“She’s literally just started her first day, and you’re already trying to make her a training dummy.”

Mila pouted at the insinuation that she would be lose. “What makes you think he wouldn’t end being my training dummy?”

Beside Jay, Heeseung chuckled, his voice causing Mila to blush despite herself. “That’s not what Jay meant,” Heeseung assured the girl, a warm smile on his face that would melt any girl on the spot. “Riki just has a bad record of starting fights whenever he meets new people.”

Mila laughed when Riki looked affronted. “What? I’m just trying to get to know our new classmate better?” He turned to Sunghoon behind him, who had been standing a bit more distantly from them than the others. “What do you think, hyung?”

Sunghoon crossed his arms over his chest, Mila’s eyes drifting slightly to the way the black shirt he wore for training outlined his muscles perfectly. He cocked his head to the side, a glint in his eyes. “Riki’s right,” he said coolly.

“See!” Riki said with a smug smirk while Sunoo rolled his eyes. “Besides, we have the Goodwill Event coming up with the sister schools in Japan. We need to make sure everyone’s in shape, right?”

“Well you don’t need to worry about me,” Mila said, mirroring Sunghoon’s pose with his arms across his chest. “I’m perfectly in shape, thanks.”

“Definitely,” Jake muttered under his breath after giving her an appreciation once-over, earning yet another slap from Kiara.

Sunghoon smirked, sensing the challenge in Mila’s tone. The girl swallowed thickly, unable to deny his attractiveness. She almost didn’t catch the blade that was being tossed in her direction – but she had spent too much of her childhood learning to evade assassinations and attacks to have missed it.

“If that’s the case,” Sunghoon said, after tossing her the weapon with a cocky grin on his face. “Prove it.”

The air was silent as eight pairs of eyes fell on Mila. She bit back a laugh, the corners of her lips turning up in amusement.

She had a feeling she would like it here.

#03. AVENGERS

ALMOST A YEAR NOW. That was how long Mila spent wandering the globe with her head low, her guard up against any enemies who may one day attack her when she least expected it. Or so that was how she justified it.

Mila stopped before the television screens in the display window of the media store, her eyes trained on nine familiar figures being portrayed in the news. Her eyes traced over each and every one of them, blocking out the words of the news reporters. All she heard were the words: ‘Avengers,’ ‘missing,’ and the name she was given when she made her first appearance in public wrapped in the embrace of red magic. ‘Scarlet Witch.’

She missed them so much it physically hurt. But this was for them. The whole reason she ran from them in the first place, without so much as a word except a letter she wrote in a haste to get away.

It was selfish. She knew this. But she wasn’t a hero like they were – she was just a lab experiment who lost everything she ever loved, before they came into her life and gave her another chance at life. She wasn’t selfless, wasn’t humble, and she definitely wasn’t good. But if protecting the people she loved was a bad thing… then she would accept the role of a villain, if she had to.

“Long time no see.”

Mila gasped as she whipped around, long strands of hair whipping around in the wind. Her eyes widened at the familiar face staring back at her.

“Eonnie,” she breathed out in shock.

Black Widow smiled, that same maternal look in her eyes as when Mila last saw her. “It’s been a while.”

Mila gaped, her eyes blinked as she looked around the street. They were alone. She let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding. At least it wasn’t one of the boys. Kiara, at least, could be reasoned with – but she knew she wouldn’t be so fortunate if it was anyone else who found her tonight.

“I thought we agreed to keep in contact,” Kiara said with a scolding tone as she pulled Mila into a nearby alleyway.

Mila sighed. The night she decided to run away, she coincidentally ran straight into Kiara, who immediately connected the dots seeing the bag on Mila’s shoulder and the cap covering her head. A single call to SHIELD would have had every agent on sight, ready to stop Mila from taking even one step out of their sight. But Kiara let her go. And Mila owed her for that.

“I know,” Mila said. “But I’ve been getting visions, and—!”

“Visions?” Kiara repeated incredulously. “That’s even more reason for you to keep in contact! You said the Mind Stone was fine the last time we spoke— which was a month ago.”

Mila lowered her head, looking like a wet puppy in the rain. “I know… And I’m sorry but I just— I just didn’t want to worry you…”

Kiara sighed before bringing a hand up to her head. “Well I am worried, okay? Worried because even though I agreed to let you do this, that doesn’t mean I like it. Every day I wonder if I did the right thing by letting you go that night…”

Mila gasped. A feeling of dread pooled in the pit of her stomach. “Eonnie… Please.”

Kiara shook her head. “I’m sorry Mila, but I can’t let you do this alone anymore.”

Shit.

Mila needed to get out of here. Fast.

Without letting Kiara say another word, she wrapped herself in a cocoon of crimson light, her eyes glowing the same shade of red as she took to the air, ready to flee the sight as soon as she could. But it was too late. Before she could turn — somewhere, anywhere — she was stopped by a wall of iron. A startled gasp left her lips as a familiar suit of armour rushed towards her in a flurry of red and gold.

In her shock, she didn’t even register that she had been swept right out of the air and into a pair of arms.

“Jay?!” Mila blurted. She stared wide-eyed at his mask as if she could see his face through it — his angular features, contrasted by the soft look on his eyes. She wondered what expression he was wearing now, if he hated her for what she did to keep him and the others safe.

He carried bridal style as he flew through the air at the speed of a fighter jet plane, her hair whipping around in all directions as she grasped onto him for dear life. She could push him away, if she wanted to. She could overpower him easily with her powers and fly away to a corner of a world where no one could ever find her.

But she didn’t. She missed him too much — she missed them too much — to stay away when they were near. And they took full advantage of it to corner her and bring her right back, using Kiara as bait.

“Wait, where are you going?!” Mila asked, her voice muffled as a hand pressed her head closer to his neck, where her arms had wrapped around subconsciously. “Let’s talk about this, okay?! Just stop for a second—?”

“I can’t do that, Angel.” Mila froze at the familiar pet name, a warmth filling her stomach at the sound of his tone. Even though his mask, it held so much emotion in it, amplified only by the desperation with which he held her. “I’m not giving you another chance to get away. Never again.”

Mila’s breath caught in her chest. Damn it. They really were her weakness… For better or for worse.

Mila didn’t even register when she was on solid ground again. But before she knew it, she found herself on the landing platform of SHIELD base in the middle of the Yellow Sea, held to Jay’s chest as he landed in the middle of rows of airships.

Mila bit her lip as Iron Man’s mask retreated, allowing Mila to see the face she so missed seeing when she woke up in the morning. She swallowed thickly at the intense look in his eyes as they traced her every feature, so full of love she didn’t even know if she alone was enough to hold it all.

“You can put me down now,” Mila whispered weakly.

“And if I don’t?” Jay asked, his voice low.

“Then I’ll make you.”

Mila and Jay both turned in the direction of the new voice. Mila’s lips parted as Sunoo came into view from the shadows, a quiver of bows strapped to his back and black uniform shrouding his figure like a phantom as he appeared before Mila. His hair was a new shade of wine red that she hadn’t seen on him before, making his foxy features even more harsh as he stared at her without emotion.

Mila felt cold as Jay reluctantly let her down from his hold, her legs weak as she stood on her own two feet.

“You have a lot of guts walking away with the Mind Stone like that,” Sunoo said with narrowed eyes. “If you were anyone else… I would have shot you down without a second thought.”

Mila pursed her lips. Of course. She knew as well as anyone that even if he didn’t have any powers, Sunoo was not one to be underestimated. His arrows could hit an apple from a mile away — least of all a 5’8 girl walking away without soaring a single look over her shoulder.

She deserved his coldness, she thought. She didn’t deserve the smiles he would share with her and they visited her favourite cafe, trying all the sweets to see which one was the best. She didn’t deserve his warmth, or his loving smiles. But that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt.

“Cut it out, Sunoo.” Mila’s wide eyes turned to look behind her. His mechanic falcon wings were spread out behind him as he landed behind Jay. He spared a nod to the man before his eyes landed on Mila, a conflicted look on his face. He clenched his jaw, which Mila could remember tracing loving kisses along whenever he would fly up to her apartment window in the middle of the night. “So you’re back now…”

Mila swallowed the lump in her throat. “Yeah.”

Jake nodded, his eyes slowly trailing down her body, as if trying to figure out whether or not she was real. If it was actually her in front of him. “Yeah?” he asked uncertainly.

Mila nodded. And before she could say a word, she was being pulled away from Jay’s protective hand on her waist, and right into Jake’s chest, his head burying itself into her neck and his hands holding her lower back and her head to him, trying to feel her as closely as possible.

“I missed you so fucking much,” he whispered into her ear. She raised her hands to return his embrace, just in time to hear his next words, which burned themselves into her skin. “But you’re in so much trouble when we’re alone, you hear me?”

Mila didn’t even have time to register the Falcon’s words before she was pulling away by the hips. One second she was looking at Jake’s annoyed expression, and the next she was staring straight into Riki’s eyes before his lips crashed into hers.

“Brat,” Sunoo said from behind the tall boy, his foxy eyes narrowing on him.

But Mila barely heard a thing. She was shutting her eyes and letting herself fall into the familiar pattern of her lips moving against his, their chests pressed against each other. The feeling of her hands threading their way through his hair in a desperate act to keep his mouth on hers. Just like the first time they kissed, that day he thought he lost her for good when she fell from the top of the Tokyo tower.

“You better not do that ever again,” Riki said as he leaned her forehead against hers, his breath heavy as he stared into her eyes with a sense of desperation just like that day. And Mila felt guilt eat away again for making him relive that same fear again. “I’ll never forgive you.”

“And neither will I.”

There was a flash of green before Jungwon appeared before them, the Time Stone hanging around his neck and his sentient cape lifting a corner and giving a small wave at Mila’s direction. Mila smiled. It reminded her of all the times Mila would pretend to run from his kisses, only for his cape to chase her and pull her right back into his arms again.

The only time Mila escaped its grasp was the night she ran away…

“Jungwon.” Mila sighed as the younger looked down at her, his eyes firm in their disapproval.

“I have a lot to say to you,” Jungown said. “But that can wait until later. We have more important things to do.” Mila cringed internally, but didn’t disagree. “Heeseung is probably waiting for you in his office… I trust you have the Mind Stone with you?”

Mila lowered her head. “I do.”

“Good.” Jungwon turned on his heels without another word. The corner of his cape lifting to look back and forth between Jungwon’s leaving figure and Mila’s crestfallen expression, before expressing a sigh.

A flash of lighting appeared in the night sky, and Mila shivered. She looked up towards the sky. “Where’s Sunghoon?”

“Don’t know.” Sunoo shrugged. “He hasn’t been here for a while.”

Mila sighed. Riki lay a hand on Mila’s back. “Come on,” he said. “You can’t delay it any longer.”

Like that, Mila walked into Heeseung’s office to see him leaning against his desk with hands in his pockets. The space felt crowded as Mila and her men (were they still hers, though?) gathered in the room.

“It’s been a while,” Heeseung lulled, his expression not betraying a single thought. His eyes scanned her in a similar way to Jake. “You look well.”

Surely not, Mila thought. She felt anything but well.

Heeseung looked towards the others. “You guys can leave now.”

They exchanged looks. But none of them disobeyed the orders given to them, and they slowly exited the room one by one, some of them giving her pecks before they left, and others not sparing a single glance. But in the end, Heeseung was the only thing on Mila’s mind. Especially when he marched up to her the second the door closed, before lifting her like she weighed nothing and placing her on the tabling in the middle of the room, his lips devouring hers like they were her last meal on Earth.

Mila gasped as he pushed her down onto the table, her back laying on scattered paperwork as he hovered over her, his figure cocooning her like he was trying to hide his favourite doll form the world, to keep anyone from seeing or ever going near her. And really? Mila liked it. She always did. She loved the fact that she was the only one who could make him snap like this, lose all his composure.

She didn’t know how long she was lying like that before Heeseung was pulling away, his silver hair shining under the light of the full moon.

“Do you remember?” Heeseung asked all of a sudden, not even giving Mila a chance to catch her breath.

“Remember what?”

“Remember when I told you, I wouldn’t let anyone take you away from me.” Mila bit her lip, nodding at the declaration he had made when he and the others first rescued her from the scientists experimenting on ner. “If I knew you were the one that would make you leave…”

“I’m sorry,” Mila whispered.

Heeseung closed his eyes before leaning his chin on Mila’s shoulder. “You should be. I missed you so much, baby…” He brushed a kiss to her cheek, before nipping at her earlobe, causing Mila to whine. “Don’t ever leave me like that again. Whatever the reason for it was, we’ll figure it out.” He moved away and brushed a strand from Mila’s face. “That being said, we have to talk about—”

Before Heeseung could even finish his sentence, there was a series of shouts from the other side of the door. Neither Mila or Heeseung had time to register what was happening before the door flew open to reveal an absolutely pissed Sunghoon.

All of a sudden, Mila was reminded of the first time they got into an argument, and Mila ended up giving him the cold shoulder for a week before he blew it and dragged her back to her place where he sat her down and stared at her for five seconds straight with those piercing eyes of his before she crumbled and gave in. Those same eyes landed on Mila and Heeseung now, before narrowing on the former. Mila blushed at the fact she was caught in this position, but realised that there were more important things to worry about.

Heeseung lifted himself off of Mila to address the man. “Sunghoon.”

He didn't get a reply. Instead of greeting him back, Sunghoon was brushing past Heeseung and storming straight towards Mila before grabbing her arm and hauling her off the desk, wrapping an arm around her waist to bring him to his firm chest.

“Wait, Sunghoon,” Heeseung said placating as he realised what was happening. “Let’s talk about this.”

Mila’s eyes widened when Sunghoon began to swing his hammer in his hand. “Stay out of it,” Sunghoon said. “I need to talk to my girlfriend.”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Mila protested, “I don’t want to hurt you, Oppa, so let’s talk this ou— Agh!”

Heeseung was left to stand there with a tired expression as Sunghoon’s hammer carried him out the window, breaking the glass as he escaped into the horizon with his girlfriend in his arms. Heeseung dropped his head when the rest of the boys flooded into the room, all in equal disbelief.

“We just got her back, and already she’s been kidnapped?!” Riki asked.

Heeseung sighed. They didn’t have time for this. Thanos was on his search for the infinity stones, and he wasn’t going to let his girlfriend get away alone with one of them ever again — not if it meant leaving her vulnerable. And the others agreed on the same thing. For just ws much as she wanted to keep them safe from leaving them, they wanted to keep her safe by keeping her by her side.

So it went without saying, they as soon as Kiara caught up with them, he was suiting up, ready to lead the mission to retrieve his — their — girl from Sunghoon.

“Avengers… Assemble.”

#04. HARRY POTTER

AMORTENTIA. The potion of love.

Mila didn’t think she would ever need such a thing — nor did she want it, either. It was a fact that the effects caused by Amortentia were closer to lust or obsession more than anything else, and for that, Mila wished to stay well away from it. But as it happened, today’s Potions class happened to be brewing that exact potion.

Hooray, Mila mentally noted as she stirred a pot of pink boiling liquid, being sure to stand at arm’s length, with a hand on her nose, least her yellow Hufflepuff robes would smell of a very interesting combination of mint chocolate, bungeoppang, tiramisu, ramyeon, corn and… strawberries with chocolate?

Mila tilted her head at the scent profile. What was that about? She knew that the scent of Amortentia changed according to who smelled it, and served as an indication of the person one felt attracted to… But wasn’t this combination a bit too odd?

“If you lean back any further, your hair is going to become another ingredient in my potion.” Mila whipped her head around to stare blankly at the Slytherin behind her. She gathered her hair and threw it over her shoulder with a glare. “Happy?”

Park Sunghoon rolled his eyes, before looking down at his potion again. Mila didn’t know when it started, but for as long as she could remember, she and Sunghoon had always been at each other’s throats — exchanging short and clipped remarks, bumping into each other’s shoulders when they passed each other in the hallway, and glaring whenever they made eye contact.

She really didn’t know why he disliked her so much. But well, it wasn’t as if she cared…

Sunghoon took a sniff, before his thick eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Mila didn’t bother to ask about it, before turning to face his potion again. It was none of her business what it smelt like — everyone knew what type of girl he liked, anyway. A pretty, popular girl like Jang Wonyoung, who seemed to be the only one he ever smiled at.

Not that Mila was keeping track, or anything. But Mila pouted at the thought. Because, seriously, why did he hate her so much? (But perhaps, if she didn’t turn away so quickly, she would be able to see the way Sunghoon’s eyes lingered on her back after smelling his potion.)

“How’s your potion going?” Mila snapped to attention when Jake, her seatmate, leaned over to check her cauldron. Briefly, Mila could catch the scent of grass and rain, attributed to the fact that the boy was on the Hufflepuff Quidditch team.

“It’s going okay?” Mila asked. “I mean… it does smell pretty funny, though.”

Jake tilted his head, looking like a confused puppy. “What do you mean?”

Mila laughed, shaking her head. “That the person I’m attracted to has a lot of different tastes in food.”

Jake laughed. “Yeah?” His smile softened as he watched Mila stir the cauldron, eyes holding an unbridled amount of affection that everyone except her seemed to see. “Well mine happens to really like chocolate — Lindt, specifically.”

Mila hummed pleasantly. “Really? What a coincidence! So do I!”

Internally, Mila despaired. She couldn’t tell why, but it really bothered her to know about the girl who stole his heart. It wasn’t her right to be, and yet she couldn’t control her feeling of disappointment. He had been telling her for a while now about a girl that he had his eyes set on, since the first day of school. And Mila didn’t know how to react when she found out, because she could have sworn that he seemed so much more affectionate around her than others, with the way he always had a hand around her shoulder or how he would lean closer to her when they were speaking…

But maybe she was imagining it.

Jake laughed, shaking his head in fond exasperation. It made more sense the more he knew her, the reason she wasn’t in Ravenclaw — as smart as she was, she missed some of the most obvious signs around her. And yet, it only made her more endearing to him…

“I think I need some more flasks,” Mila said, as she looked at her bench. “I’ll be right back.”

Mila skipped towards the table at the back of the room to grab a glass flask before turning to head back to her desk… only to bump straight into a firm chest. Startled, Mila jumped backwards, only for an arm to grab her by the bicep to steady her before she fell over. She looked up in bewilderment, to meet Jay’s concerned eyes.

She couldn’t say anything except, “Oh.”

Because no way the Park Jongseong was holding her by the arm right now, his face only centimetres away from her. Her face flushed a similar pink as her love potion, before she cleared her throat and stapled away from the boy’s touch, despite her body screaming not to.

She always had somewhat of a puppy crush on Jay since they first met. She was lost and couldn’t find her next class, and he, being a Prefect for Slytherin, offered to help her find her find her way.

“Sorry,” she apologised.

Jay chuckled. “It’s okay.” The boy resumed grabbing his ingredients from the table, allowing Mila to turn around and calm her beating heart. All of a sudden, it started racing again when Jay called her again. “By the way… Your potion…”

Mila blinked at the handsome boy. “Yeah?”

“Just wondering how it smelled, that’s all,” Jay said. Contrary to his usual mannerisms, he wasn’t facing her, his back instead turned as he checked the labels of several bottles on the table. Mila spotted a twinge of red on his ears, and wondered if he usually got embarrassed when talking about affairs of the heart.

Mila smiled. “Hmmm… There was quite a few distinct scents… But I do remember there being something like corn in there? Which was really random.”

Jay froze, his back rigid like stone. “Really?”

Mila hummed. “Yep! So I guess I have to give my future boyfriend some corn when I ask him out, huh?”

Jay didn’t say anything afterwards, so Mila took it as a cue to end the conversation there. She bid the boy farewell before making her way back to her desk. She was completely obvious to the crisis he had put him in with her words, as Jay stood there for the next five minutes replaying what she said to him like a broken record.

Shit, Jay cursed mentally, when he couldn’t contain the smile on his face. I’m down bad…

But to be fair, he wasn’t the only one.

When class finished and it was time to go, Mila found herself walking side by side with her best friend Sunoo who, as always, took the books from her arms and carried them in her own, looking like the textbook Ravenclaw that he was.

It was strange. When they first met, he was a library part-timer scolding her for folding the spine of her books while she looked like a child who had just been caught doing something they shouldn’t have. Who would have guessed that from that day onwards, they would form a lasting friendship?

How did your potion go?”

Mila hummed. “It was okay. Don’t know how well it would work… but it had a interesting smell.”

“Like what?” Sunoo asked, a little too eager. Since they didn’t sit at the table together (because of assigned seat mates) they didn’t know what the other was up to in class.

“Yeah, like what?”

Mila jumped in surprise when an arm flung itself over her shoulder. She looked up and groaned when she made eye contact with Riki, the resident prankster. To this day, she still hadn’t forgiven him for putting pink hair dye into her shampoo, thinking it belonged to her roommate — who also happened to be Riki’s sister.

At that moment she noticed who was beside him and smiled brightly. “Wonie! How are you?”

The younger boy smiled, his dimples poking from his cheeks. And it was so hard to believe that he — a Prefect for Gryffindoor — would be friends with a troublemaker Slytherin like Riki.

“You didn’t answer the question,” Sunoo said impatiently.

“Oh right,” Mila said. “Hmmm, well, it smelled like a lot of different things…”

Sunoo pouted at the vague answer but didn’t get to press the girl before Riki was steering her towards the Mess Hall and changing the subject. “Let’s have lunch together today.”

“We’re in different houses,” Mila pointed out. “We sit at different tables, remember?”

Riki shrugged. “So? We can just sit with you — it’s not like you have any friends.”

Jungwon discretely elbowed Riki in the ribs. He for one wouldn’t let the tall boy get away with teasing Mila too much. Riki cringed in pain, before glaring at the boy, but neither Mila nor Sunoo noticed it had happened — after all, who would expect sweet and adorable Jungwon of doing any harm. As Mila said when Riki accused the boy, “That’s funny. Your best joke yet.”

Riki pouted as he followed the girl to her seat, despite his protests, planted himself beside her. Sunoo followed his example and took the next seat over, while Jungwon sat across from the girl so that he would be able to look at her when they spoke. People around them began to stare at the combination of colours before happening along each other, causing Mila to giggle.

“I can’t believe you guys are actually sitting here,” she muttered. She then looked at Jungwon. “Are you really approving this?”

Jungwon shrugged. “There are no rules saying we can’t sit at another house’s table.”

Mila shook her head. At that moment she felt a hand on her head. She looked up in surprise, when she saw Heeseung staining above her, his handsome face smiling warmly at her. She then noticed Jay, Sunghoon, and Jake with him, and remembered that they were close friends with each other

“Then in that case, it should be alright if we join you, right?” Heeseung asked.

Riki glared. Why were there so many boys around Mila? “Actually—”

Before Riki could say anything, Mila delivered a elbow right into the same spot that Jungwon had. “Of course you can!” Mila said eagerly.

The older boy was actually one of the first that Mila got to meet here at Hogwarts. It was on the very first day of school, when she saw him charming origami paper cranes in the courtyard. She complimented him with sincere awe, and he gifted her one of them in return. Somehow, Mila always found herself smiling at him whenever they crossed paths.

Heeseung smiled, patting the girl’s head. “Thank you.”

Jungwon scrunched his nose at the adoration in the older boy’s tone because was he seriously baby-talking her? Sunoo had the same thought, and eyed him with disdain as he took a seat next to Riki, while Jay sat next to Sunoo, and Sunghoon and Jake joined Jungwon.

The eight of them became the centre of attention as whispers began to float among the Mess Hall, scandalised by the prospect of students from different houses sitting together. But Mila couldn’t care less. She found that being with them, she was more at ease than she ever was alone.

“Hey, hey, what’s going on over here?” Mila watched as Kiara, her older sister figure, appeared with a glint in her eye. “Is this a Mila’s fan club meeting or something?”

Mila didn’t know why, but she was shooting out of her chair like a rocket, her face a bright pink as she shushed the Slytherin girl. “What do you mean? We’re just hanging out.”

Riki smirked at her reaction. “Then what has you so flustered then?”

Mila looked around the table and saw the same amused looks on all the boys’ faces. She cleared her throat before slowly sitting back down again. “I don’t know what you’re talking about…”

And yet, Mila’s heart skipped a bit when the boys laughed at her expense. The sound of their laughs overlapping each other, bouncing off the walls of the Mess Hall like a chorus in a church… It was nice. Being with them was nice.

And when Kiara found herself joking later on that Mila must have caught a few crushes during lunch that day… She didn’t deny her.

She didn’t know what it was, but something about them together felt right — and somehow, she had a feeling that they felt the same way too.

NOTE. finally the au chapter has come 😭 dark moon ended up being left out bc well we kinda already know what enha would be like in that au… ☀️ but anyway! funny story, my planni for this fic was so bad- i was supposed to write one au each day starting on Monday so I could post this first thing today…. but procrastinated so I needed to just writing around 7k words in or day 😭 it’s now 9:27pm tho so at least it’s out before mila’s bday ends 🥹 anyway! hope you liked it! yhank you guys for a wonderful year with mila and enha, and hope to continue to celebrate more milestones to come — dia 🌸🩷

#◌ 🌸 ˴ milana bai . ˚◞ ★̶̲ ꒱#enhypen 8th member #enhypen female member #enhypen fem oc #enhypen added member #enhypen extra member #enhypen eight member #enhypen female oc #enhypen x oc #enhypen female addition #enhypen addition #enhypen oc #enhypen poly

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sherwees · 4 months

Text

cw : obsession, manipulation, implications of domestic abuse and why does yangyang have a helicopter in his backyard?

side note : @ne0pearl and @teasteeper wanted me to drop this so here it is!!

side side note : yangyang beret?!

best friend yangyang that'll try to prove that he's better than your boyfriend by buying you all types of luxuries ranging from dolce&gabbana, louis vuitton and rolex. Something else that adorned your neck besides the 1200 dollar necklaces was the hickies that he would leave just so he could hear you struggle trying to explain that they were just bruises; your best lie was saying that it was an allergic reaction.

he'll spend hours on his free days, just scrolling through clothing catalogs (sometimes with his sidekick, hendery) just to pick out his gifts for you. hendery always found something that was perfect and he was a little too exact about your interests but it wasn't that much of a big deal.

when he would looked up at you with his arms around your waist, doe eyes and all in your new outfit in the dressing room. you giggle then grab at the price tag and let out an honestly dramatic gasp with your hand covering your mouth and all. “oh my gosh! 5,000 for a coat?!” you squealed but he immediately shushed you as he stood up with a smug look, eyebrow raised. “don't worry about it.. let your best friend treat you well~” his voice low, smooth like his hands lowering to your ass, giving it a light squeeze before twirling you around.

your boyfriend, winwin which happens to be one of his closest friends always questions him about his gifts makes the happiness crawl up his neck in tingles. his scrunched eyebrows, the hurt in his voice and the looks he gives him just riles him on. deeper into you, deeper into his craze.

yangyang that loves scaring the truth out of you. he loves being all dry in your texts after you maybe say the wrong thing or he catches you hanging out with your boyfriend. sometimes, he would corner you and bombard you with questions that barely have an answer, just like the first day you both started dating.

“do you really love me?” he randomly blurted one morning, you turn on your heel with a confused look at his more angered look. he only walked closer and your ass uncomfortably pressed against the counter but he didn't stop until he stood only a few inches away from you but repeated the question slower as if you didn't already get it. “yeah, as a friend..” you shrugged nonchalantly before attempt to turn back to your cereal but there was suddenly a resounding bang from the cabinet by your ear and you shrieked. “what the fuck!” you whined, covering your ear with hopes to lull the ringing. yangyang muttered, “naïve little whore” before turning you around with a swift tug at your shoulder,

“so all those times together meant nothing to you”

“but I have a boyfri–”

“if you truly loved sicheng, you would've took a sign and left the dressing room that day.” His words spewed like a firework explosion. You cupped your palm around his mouth with a gasp, shaking your head slowly with a quick “Nuh uh!”, you could tell that he was smiling behind your palm. He then licked it with a chuckle, your hand slamming against the counter in the process which elicited a hard grunt from you.

“You're so pretty when you're mad~” he said whilst circling his hand around your neck to grasp and squeeze your nape before heading in for a kiss.

he scared you though. sometimes, he would shove himself in the crane of your neck to whisper belitting words and lies about your relationship; that'll only make you overthink. his persuasion was so good to the point where he convinced you to make him your ‘first time’ because winwin was inexperienced and “wouldn't understand you like he did.”

sometimes, he would even refuse to apologize or convince you that a situation never happened. that day he snuck into your room in the middle of the night. never happened. when he grasped your neck and nearly suffocated you unconscious. was the past and he “changed”. he wanted your relationship to be perfect.

everytime you and winwin had a simple misunderstanding, he would be the first to run to you about what winwin said supposedly:

“He was like, ‘she's too whiny about everything and I just don't fucking understand her! I just wished she understood me more!’” He mocked winwin's emotional state then bellowed a laugh before continuing to blow on his noir nails. A slick, sick grin raised at the corners of his lips once he noticed that your lips was distorted in held back laughter, his dried hand grabbed your cheek caressing it with his tongue peaked from his plump lips.

“But you know I love you more right?”

but when it came up to you both having a misunderstanding, it was different. when he could roughly cradle your balled up figure on the couch, he attempted to coo at you but his tone was urgent,scratchy and whiny as his hands sporadically quaked, patting to find his phone throughout the many pockets of his baggy pants. the only thing that could make you stay at least what he thought would make you stay was buying you things; his bank account locked one day when he was in a raging fit and nearly spent 3 bands just for you to forgive him.

“Look!” he attempted to shove his phone in your face, the high brightness of his phone making your sensitive orbs strain more caused you to wince and shield your face. He mumbled a fast apology, turning down the brightness and scrolled through the pandora website with unsteady fingers.. “I'll buy you something– please forgive me? I didn't mean to hit you.. I'll never put my hands on you ever again..” he lied vowed with you, his voice shook as the tears caked at his waterline nearly overflowing.

“yangyang, just leave me–” you looked over to him with slight surprise when you saw his expression, he seemed unfamiliar because he was actually crying?

“NO!” he yelled, his voice rasp. His black nails digging into your back and left knee, his cries only become louder; you could tell his esophagus was giving out because he started to hiccup.

yangyang was like a child, a snotty three year old. if you didn't give him what he wanted, he would make a tantrum. when he would try to make it up to you, he would finally give you what you wanted. you stared up at the ceiling and to yangyang's bloodshot red eyes, his lips agape; sore and chapped as he grunted and moaned. his hand pressed against your shoulder, his free hand travels to your wrist and his breath was hot&gruff against the top of your limp hand until he laid a chaste kiss on it. “I'll always make it up to you, alright?” he opens your fingers with his thumb before rubbing your palm against his cheek, the warmth of him causing you to slightly smile. “there's my girl..” His toothy smile made it's appearance finally, his thrusts only quickened through your slick channel.

he threw his head back, his hands finding leverage from the bottom of his your shirt as the tandems of pleasure coursed through his veins rapidly. Your high was approaching, quick and heavy but to your luck, yangyang stilled inside of you already. His uncomfortably warm seed pumped into your hole at a steady rate, he manages to lower himself down to mark your jaw and any open area of tan skin he saw. I mean.. at least he was happy, right?

it's been a month since you and winwin uttered a word to each other. His contact was simply back to “Sicheng 🙂”, nothing further. yangyang insisted on removing the emoji or just blocking him, yangyang was like your parent now. he monitored your phone, always looking over your shoulder and got snappy when he was suspicious on your relationships with people.

through your moments of uncertainty, his friend sidekick hendery was always there for you. yangyang would always glare at your closeness or whenever you two thought you were alone. shame started to lay in yangyang's soul heavily, his mind was clouded with regret.

his members were practically scared of him now, xiaojun accidentally slipped that ten was talking to someone and xiaojun only huffed through his nose as ten walked off with his head low, when kun snapped at yangyang about how winwin started to stress himself out from the several opportunities he had in china; even some he volunteered for just so he could stay away from them.

his thumb mindlessly exited all the shopping websites that he had opened, he looked over to you and hendery in the kitchen; you laughing as he swiped off the whipped cream from your nose. is this how winwin felt? worthless, just laying there as you just slipped through his fingers like jello until you melted into pieces.

I guess so.

#nct smut #kpop smut #smut #nct imagines #wayv smut #sherwees extinction #nct scenarios #nct 127 smut #nct angst #nct drabbles #nct dream smut #yangyang x reader #yangyang scenarios #nct x reader #nct fanfic #nct u smut #this is based off of yangyang's astrology posts on here!!

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iwillneverforgiveyousunghanbin · 6 months

Text

french press

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

wc: 1.2k reader: femme/gender neutral (gender warnings: reader is wearing lingerie, reader "pushes t*ts together" -- you've been warned) warnings: smut 18+; MINORS DNI!!! -- specific warnings under the cut -- also some angst and some funny stuff summary: jiwoong has a biiit of a jealousy problem. he's so jealous rn that he won't even touch you :( with his permission, you take matters into your own hands (and onto his thigh). *ੈ✩‧₊˚ oh helloooo. long time no see. decided to write something for the hell of it. maybe i'll write some more soon...

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

warnings: 18+ explicit smut, thigh-riding, penetrative sex (reader receiving), descriptions of cum (reader's and jw's), unprotected sex, cumming inside, jealousy/toxicity, swearing, pet names (baby, angel)

also the title is VERY clever. french press: french masseusse pierre and... mating press. i'll leave now.

“baby,” you whine, pushing your arms together a bit to accentuate your tits. “don’t you wanna touch? you love touching my tits.”

the sheer, black lingerie set you were saving for a special occasion is hugging every curve of your body perfectly as you straddle your boyfriend. a garter belt squeezing around your right thigh, you know you’re irresistible to anyone with a pulse.

but apparently your boyfriend has passed away since he sat down on the couch with a huff twenty minutes ago. he’s still warm though and that’s permission enough for you to let him have it.

“oh my god,” you groan; smacking your hand on the leather armrest like a frustrated child. “woongie! want you to touch me so bad.”

“well, you should’ve thought of that before you let another man put his hands all over you,” jiwoong answers-- head turning to the side in the ultimate display of pettiness.

you sigh exasperatedly. “it was a massage, woongie. a professional one that you paid for!”

“so?” he asks with a pout. “are you suggesting i’m a cuckold by my own doing?”

“you are the only one suggesting that actually,” you reply, running your hands down his clothed chest. “the only thing i’m suggesting is that you fuck me. and i’m strongly suggesting it.”

“oh yeah?” jiwoong responds, one eyebrow raised in interest. “are you sure those words aren’t actually meant for pierre: the unnecessarily handsome french masseuse?”

“you literally gave me a gift certificate for my birthday!” you exclaim, hitting his chest lightly in frustration. “baby, i tried to request an ugly massage therapist. the woman at the desk looked at me like i was being rude. and i was! for you.”

jiwoong’s eyes go straight to your barely-covered core and you think for a second he’s finally about to give in. “you asked for an ugly masseuse and she gave you a former louis vuitton runway model? i should’ve just given you tickets to magic mike live!”

“kim jiwoong-ah, if you don’t fck me right now, i swear to god,” you threaten emptily, sinking down on one of his grey sweatpant-adorned thighs. “i’m just gonna use you however i want.”

jiwoong folds his arms across his chest in a final act of defiance, attention returning to the tv screen. “knock yourself out.”

it takes everything in you not to whine like a little spoiled brat, but you manage to suppress it. instead, you grind a little harder down onto jiwoong’s thigh. his legs are lazily spread apart in the most enticing way. you could reach right down his pants and grab him in your hands (a tried and true method that jiwoong loves), but you have something to prove too.

so you repeat the grinding motion, your heat connecting again with the toned flesh of your boyfriend’s perfect thighs. at first it’s just for show-- you need his attention and you’ll do anything you have to to get it back.

but after a few moments, a soft moan escapes your throat. jiwoong’s breath audibly hitches; his body stiffening a bit at the sound of your pleasure. despite this, his eyes stay fixed on the screen.

as a familiar knot grows just below your stomach, you almost start to forget about your goal. maybe it’s desperation speaking, but riding your boyfriend’s thigh is actually a lot more stimulating than you thought it’d be.

“fuck,” you whine, increasing your pace involuntarily. your hands are gripping the back of the couch, eyes closing as you rapidly approach your high.

suddenly, jiwoong’s thigh grows harder-- a sturdier surface for you to grind on. he’s flexing his muscles for you, helping you reach your climax like the perfect boyfriend he is.

“gonna cum all over my thigh, baby?” jiwoong asks, voice already noticeably fucked out. it’s not a mystery who won this game. “gonna make a mess all over my pants like a fucking angel?”

“i--... oh my god, i--...” you cry, strong hands finding your hips and guiding them down for you onto his thigh. you place your hand gently at the base of jiwoong’s neck, pulling at the collar of his shirt and toying with his collarbone. “i--... ‘m cumming...”

pleasure taking over, you reach your high as jiwoong continues to guide your hips for you. “woongie, love you. love you so much.”

your eyes flutter open to see jiwoong’s cheeks flushed, his eyes locked on your core. you look down to find that you have made a pretty little mess, honey dripping from you and soaking his grey sweatpants. he lifts you ever so slightly up and back down, watching as your juices seep through your sheer panties and onto him.

jiwoong meets your gaze for less than a second before you’re wrestled off the couch and onto your back on the carpeted floor below. carpet aside, it’s not a painless fall and as your boyfriend is hungrily ripping his pants off and burying his cock inside you, you decide it’s a good time to start playing again.

“oh my god, woongie,” you complain, knowing that your back’s gonna hurt even worse in the morning. “are you trying to make me need another massage?”

“no. more. massages,” jiwoong growls, punctuating each word with a deep thrust. “unless i’m the one giving them.”

“fuck,” you whine, pulling him even deeper inside you as you wrap your legs around him. trapping him. holding him hostage exactly where his possessive ass wants to be. “surely you don’t think you’re as skilled as a professional masseuse?”

“i’ll get certified,” he manages to grunt, grabbing hold of your thighs and pushing them up to your chest in a mating press. “or would you prefer pierre’s cock inside you instead?”

“that’s not fair,” you reply, absolutely relishing in your reinstated role of bratty sub. “how can i choose if i’ve never seen both options?”

“you’re trying to kill me, aren’t you?” jiwoong asks, kneading your thighs mercilessly-- striking his palm across the side with a gorgeous smack. “you’re gonna kill me so you can fuck pierre and then kill him too.”

“i’ll let you live a little longer if you cum inside me,” you promise, running your hand through his hair as he stares at you helplessly. “please, woongie. need you to fill me up.”

you can see it in his eyes: he’ll give you anything you want. he’d even let you fuck pierre if you really wanted to. but you don’t. not even a little bit. you just want jiwoong.

“fuck, i love you so much, baby,” he pants as his thrusts grow shallower and more sporadic. “gonna fill up this perfect... little...”

his hips finally spasm; a sweet moan swallowed down as you feel him spill into you. you sigh contentedly at the warmth inside of you, your boyfriend laying his head on your chest-- letting go of your legs from where he’d been pinning them and collapsing on top of you in exhaustion.

you wrap your thighs around jiwoong’s waist, making sure he can’t escape (he doesn’t want to).

jiwoong’s jealousy issues weren’t really harmful. he knew you’d never actually leave him for another man; what he always seemed to forget is that you’d never even dream of it. and besides, whatever misunderstanding arose always ended in fiery, passionate sex like this.

so could anyone really blame you for making up sexy french massage therapists just to make your boyfriend jealous from time to time? not to worry... you’ll give jiwoong a couple months to recover from pierre before you drop your next fabrication on him: dante, the sensual italian chef.

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the-froschamethyst4 · 4 months

Text

Reality Check

𖤐Pairing: Husband! Soap x Wife! Raeder

𖤐Pronouns: She/Her

𖤐Warnings: fluff, angst, harsh language, spoiled brat, married couple, slight comparing to siblings, arguing, happy ending,

𖤐Summary: Your young daughter hangs out with the wrong crowd and your oldest child gives her a bit of a reality check

————

Kiara was surrounded by her 'friends' at lunch. Kiara was a 7th grader in middle school. Her mom and dad were able to get her to the same school her older went to.

A high-end private school.

Her older brother Ryker held a good reputation in the school and everyone knew Kiara because of Ryker.

But Kiara was just making herself look stupid hanging out with these type of girls and not girls that actually wanna be her friends. What I mean is Kiara hangs out with the rich, spoiled brat, daddies money girls.

They pack around Louis Vuitton bags, Gucci belts holding up their skirts, end up makeup, and high end skin care that they don't need but yell at their parents for.

Kiara didn't have that, she'd be lucky if she even got the latest new phone. Her mom worked as an assistant to a Law Firm and her dad was in the Military and wasn't home a lot, so her mom was doing a lot of the work.

A mom working 40 hours a week, barely a husband that comes home. Ryker sometimes had to step in and be a parent a few times. But he doesn't blame his parents. They're just busy people and try to be there for their kids.

Kiara laughed with her 'friends' as they made fun of the group of girls who liked to play video games. Kiara deep down liked to play video games, but stopped to fit in with her friends.

"Oh, girls, I'm having a sleepover, tomorrow, for my birthday, don't forget to bring gifts," her friend Lily says. Lily was like...Regena George, popular and rich and everyone 'liked' her.

Not really

The girls giggled as Kiara just smiled at Lily.

"Bring expensive gifts," Lily emphasized on the word expensive.

Kiara didn't have any of her own money, and Y/n was strict on what to buy for a 12-13 year-old.

"Oh I already know what I'm bringing."

"Same."

"Yeah, you're going to LOVE it, Lily."

"Kiara?"

"Huh?"

"Are you coming?" Lily asked, placing her hand on her arm after she got done picking at her newly fresh nails.

"Yeah, I think so...I'd-"

"Have to ask your mom?" Lily mocked Kiara. Kiara used to say she'd have to ask her mom a lot and Lily was tired of it and 'taught' Kiara how to do whatever she wants without her mom knowing, but her mom was good, she knows almost everything that Kiara is up to.

"No," Kiara says. "Nah, fuck my mom, I'll come, I'll catch a ride," Kiara says.

"Good."

The girls kept talking as Kiara rubbed her arm.

---------

2:30PM

"MAMA! I'M HOME!!" Kiara yells from downstairs and kicked her shoes off at the front door.

"She's not home," Ryker came around the corner with an apple in his hands.

"Is she at work?"

"She was just called in, I got home an 1 hour ago and she was asked to come in," he says.

"Oh good, can you take me to the mall?"

"Why?" Ryker questioned her.

"Because it's Lily's birthday tomorrow and I want to get her a gift," Kiara says, placing her bag on a bar stool.

"Who cares, and mom won't let you go."

"She won't have to know, if you just take me."

"Hell no, I'm not taking you."

"WHY NOT!?" Kiara yells.

"Because mom hates Lily, you know this, but yet you still choose to be friends with her."

"Because Lily is nice to me."

"She treats you like a slave, Kiara," Ryker tells her.

"No, she doesn't."

"Did she say get an expensive gift?" Ryker raised his eyebrow.

"Yeah and?"

"With what money are you going to get her an expensive gift?"

"You can help me-"

"Fuck no, Kiara!"

"THIS IS SO UNFAIR!!"

"HOW IS IT UNFAIR!?"

"Because why do I bother going to some fancy private rich kid school if I can't even get expensive things?"

"You should be fucking lucky you even got into that school, Kiara. Mom and dad worked their asses off just to get you thought the fucking door," Ryker tells her.

"Kids?"

"Dad," both kids say at the same time.

"Where's your mom?"

"Work, she got called in-dad tell Kiara she can't go to Lily's house tomorrow."

"Lily?" Soap was confused.

"She's some girl that treats Kiara like a slave."

"SHE DOES NOT!! OH MY FUCKING GOD, RYKER!!"

"HEY!" Soap yells at his daughter. "What the hell did you just say?" Kiara knew she fucked up when the word slipped past her lips.

"Dad-"

"Room. now. When your mom comes home, we're having a discussion," Soap points to the stairs and Kiara had hot tears in her eyes and rushed upstairs and Soap heard her door slam shut. "What the hell was going on?" Soap asked, Ryker.

--------

9:00PM

Y/n had come home, taking her heels off at the front door and saw Soap coming towards her.

"Soap," she smiles at him, she placed her hands on his forearms kissing his lips.

"Hi, love," he says into the kiss. "We have a bit of an issue."

"What kind of issue?" She asked.

---------

Ryker had explained everything, Y/n and Soap went upstairs to their daughters bedroom. Y/n knocked and heard a low grumble. She opens the door and both parents walk in.

"Kiara?"

"I'm tired...leave me alone..."

"Sit up, Kiara," Soap says, a bit stern, Y/n placed her hand on his shoulder as a 'calm down.'

"Kiara, I want to know from you what happened?" Y/n asked.

"Fine," Kiara sits up. "I HAVE A RICH FRIEND, WHO WANTS AN EXPENSIVE BIRTHDAY GIFT BUT I CAN'T EVEN GET IT FOR HER BECAUSE I HAVE NO MONEY AND NONE OF YOU ARE GOING TO HELP ME GET IF FOR HER!"

"Is this rich friend, Lily? You know how I feel about Lily-"

"MOM! PLEASE! I DON'T CARE, SHE IS MY FRIEND!"

"Kiara if you don't stop yelling at your mother-" Y/n stops Soap.

"Kiara Amelia McTavish," Kiara knows the full name isn't a good sign. "You are a lucky girl, you wanna know why?"

"Why mom?" Kiara asked a bit annoyed.

"Because," Y/n walks into the bedroom and sat next to Kiara. "You have a mom and dad that loves you, an older brother that paved the way for you for middle school, but...I am tired of you coming home and asking for outrageous things...last week you asked for a Prada bag-"

"A month ago, you asked for a Gucci belt," Soap joins in.

"This isn't you asking for outrageous and expensive thing."

"Then what is the point of going to a rich kid school, if we're poor?"

"For an education, and we're not poor," Soap says. "We just don't think a 13-year-old needs such expensive things, your brother doesn't even have such expensive things..."

"Why do you think you want them, Kiara?" Y/n asked, placing her hand on Kiara's back.

"Because I want to fit in with my friends, they all have expensive things and carry the most expensive and luxury things, I want to fit in, I feel out of place when I sit with them at lunch," Kiara says.

"Kiara, you are an amazing and smart young girl, you shouldn't need expensive things to feel like you need to fit in...aren't there other girls at the school that don't have expensive things?"

"Yeah but...Lily hates them, she makes fun of them all the time, if I leave the friend group to have those girls as my friends, Lily won't speak or hang out with me."

"Who cares, Kiara."

"Ryker-"

"No mom, I'm sorry, but I am so tired of hearing, Kiara only talk about Lily and what Lily wants, she never thinks about her own feelings only Lily's. Kiara, she treats you like a slave. You are my little sister and I am tired of this Lily girl."

"I agree with Ryker," Soap says.

Kiara rolled her eyes at her family.

"Kiara," she looks at her mom. "I want you to do the right thing...okay?"

"Whatever."

"Till then, you're grounded," Soap says.

"WHAT WHY!?"

"Because of the yelling at your mother and cussing at me." She rolled her eyes again. "And for rolling your eyes at us," Soap and Ryker left her bedroom as Y/n moved her daughter dark brown hair from her face and kissing her temple.

"I know you'll do the right thing, Kiara," she says, getting off the bed and heading to her bedroom to change from her work clothes.

--------

Kiara was laying on her stomach on her phone and having her laptop play a random YouTube video. She was on Amazon looking at gifts for Lily, but she shuts her phone off and tossed it on her pillow.

She falls on her back and looked up at the ceiling.

"I'm not going tomorrow," Kiara says as she walked into the dinning room, Ryker was eating leftover spaghetti.

"Okay?" Ryker says as he was still eating.

"Where's mom and dad?"

"Eating out, tonight, date night," he says.

"Are they bring anything back?"

"Maybe, this is just to hold me over till they get back," he says picking at the leftovers. "So you made up your mind?"

"Yeah...you were right..." she hates to admit that to him, since Ryker has a 'big ego' as Kiara says. "Lily is a bitch."

"Aren't you grounded for cursing?"

"You gonna snitch to dad?"

"No," he smirks.

--------

Y/n and Soap came back kicking their shoes off at the front door and seeing Ryker on the couch watching TV and Kiara on her phone.

"We brought some food back," Y/n says, placing a plastic bag of food on the marble counter. Kiara and Ryker jump off the couch and started to open the bag and pulling out their food.

"Thanks," Ryker says for the both of them.

"Kiara," Soap opens his hand, letting her know she shouldn't have her phone. She groans and slaps her phone on his palm. "You'll get it back later."

"When's later?"

"Friday," he says. She tossed her head back knowing she'll have to wait a week to get her phone back.

Ryker smirks and Kiara punched his arm. Y/n just giggled at her kids.

After a while Soap and Y/n were snuggled against each other watching their favorite show as Ryker was in his room playing video games and Kiara was scrolling on her laptop.

She then saw in the bottom corner a notification from Lily to the group chat. She opened the message and read it.

Lily: The party is actually going to be at our Lake house Here's the address

Jade: OMG it's huge, I'm DEFINITLY coming

Angel: Oh yes! I'll so be there

Lily: Kiara, are you coming?

Kiara started to type and she knows everyone could see bubbles popping up letting them know she was typing, but she stops before she hits send and started to backspace it.

She left the group chat and started to watch her YouTube again.

Then the notifications started to pour in. Them asking her questions if she changed her mind, did she forget she was typing and then a personal message from Lily popped up making Kiara click it and see.

Lily: Hey, saw you were texting in the group chat, the location changed to my lake house, are you coming, if so can you bring snacks and soda?

Kiara: Actually Lily, I'm not Have someone else bring your snacks and soda, ask Angel or something, I'm not coming

Lily: Did you not ask your mom or something? Did your brother say no on the ride? I can send our butler out there to go get you

Kiara: Fuck no, keep your butler away from my house, I have made up my mind to not come to your lame ass birthday party

Lily: WHAT!? KIARA MCTAVISH WE ARE NO LONGER FRIENDS AND I DON'T WANT YOU SITTING WITH US AT LUNCH!!!

Kiara: Fine by me, bitch

Kiara blocked Lily's number along with the rest of the 'friends' numbers. She closed her laptop and got under the covers and fell asleep.

--------

Monday

Kiara saw her old friends eating and laughing and Lily was showing off her new gifts.

Kiara looked past the group and saw the girls that played video games just behind them playing on their switches and seeing like they were having fun together.

Kiara put on a brave face and walked past her old group of friends to the other girls.

Lily and the others all gave Kiara a nasty look as she passed them but she ignored their stares and glares and mentally imagined herself flipping off Jade, sticking her tongue out at Angel and slapping the shit out of Lily.

"Hi."

"Oh hi, Kiara."

"Can I sit with you?"

"Sure," the girl moved over letting Kiara sit next to her as Kiara placed her bag between her feet and placed her lunch on the metal table.

"Have you ever played this?" She asked Kiara.

"No," Kiara shakes her head.

"Here, try it," she gives Kiara her switch and showed Kiara how to play it. "Wow, you did that so easily."

"I use to play video games," she says.

"Here..." she writes down her number and gives it to Kiara. "We should play together sometime."

"I'd like that," Kiara gives her a soft smile and saved her number.

#cod modern warfare #cod mw2 #cod mwii #cod x reader #fandom #fanfic #call of duty #mw2 #cod #john soap mctavish x you #john soap mctavish x reader #soap mactavish #soap x reader #soap call of duty #soap cod #soap mw2 #john soap mactavish

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toasttt11 · 7 months

Text

never grow up; lando norris, jack hughes

summary: memories of estella leclerc

estelle leclerc x lando norris, estelle leclerc x jack hughes

tag list: @chelawrites @faithm120601

estelle soleil leclerc the only leclerc sister, the older twin sister of arthur leclerc, a formula one driver for red bull racing, being the youngest world champion and only female to win a f1 race as well as a championship, an ambassador for nike and louis vuitton, the youngest face ever on a vogue front cover and to date the most vogue covers belong to her.

name: estelle soleil leclerc

birthday: october 13, 2000

age: 22

height: 5”6

racing career:

karting 2008-2014

ferrari driver academy 2013-2018

formula four- 2015-2016

formula three- 2017

formula two- 2018

formula one-2019

red bull racing- 2019-2023

championship win 2019, 2021

vogue partnership started 2009

sponsors-nike, lululemon, apple, louis vuitton

siblings- lorenzo tolotta-leclerc, charles leclerc, arthur leclerc

godfather- jules bianchi

love interests- lando norris, jack hughes

May 22, 2008

Estelle walked around with her sage green helmet in hand and her overalls on seeing all the other kids around her age and seeing no girls just boys, it started a fire in her to prove everyone wrong and show girls can kart too, she lost her younger twin brother who was with their parents.

All of sudden a boy with brown hair tripped in front of her and another boy running behind him with black curls on his head, the boy who fell lifted his head seeing a girl with perfect chestnut brown curls and sparkling hazel green eyes, she raised a brow with a hint of a smile gracing her face as she reached down a hand for the boy, he grabbed scrambling up, “T-thanks i’m Lando.” He grinned with all his teeth, a gap between his front two teeth, he pointed towards his best friend Max, “And this is Max.” Max waved with a smile.

“I’m Estelle.” She smiled her french accent coming out before the boys could reply they heard a voice shout and a boy come running towards them.

“Essie!” Arthur shouted running over to his twin taking her hand and starting to pull her back to their parents, she turned around waving bye at the two, not knowing in the future they would become best friends.

“Who were they?” Arthur questioned in french.

“Their names are Lando and Max.” She responded back in french, before they got to their parents and older brothers.

“Oh there you are darling we were looking for you.” Pascale grinned seeing her twins, looking happier knowing her daughter was fine but she usually tends to wonder off.

“Je suis désolé Maman.” Estelle apologized knowing her mother is protective of her, Her mother dismissed her apology with a fond smile.

Estelle was suddenly picked off from behind and tossed over someone shoulder who was spinning her around, she giggled knowing exactly who it was, “Pear stop it!” She giggled as she got gently set down looking up seeing Pierre Gasly, her brothers best friend and a family friend, basically her fourth brother.

“Sorry petite étoile.” Pierre cheekily grinned calling her little star, as he has since she was born.

“No you’re not.” Estelle sassed back cocking an eyebrow and a hand on her hip.

“Someone’s sassy today.” Chalres fond voice came by her ear as he leaned kissing her cheek twice.

“Hi cha.” She smiled sweetly kissing his cheek back.

“You excited for your first race.” Charles looked between his little twin siblings, getting two identical nods in return, “Good you’re both going to do great!” He kisses both their heads.

“Duh! We’re Leclerc’s!” Estelle sassed with a smile, as Arthur nodded along with her, Charles fondly laughed, Pierre smiled down at the twins. Herve and Pascale shared a fond look glad their family is so close with each other.

January 4, 2010

Estelle walked into her house her foot shutting the door behind her as she held the handful of mail she got from the mail box for her parents, she knew her family were waiting for her so they could eat lunch together, she walked towards the kitchen entering it when she saw the magazine, she squealed jumping up and down as the other mail dropped on the ground, her whole family looked up seeing her squealing jumping, as her perfect chestnut brown curls bounced with her around her pink headband on her head.

“What is it darling?” Pascale looked up from the kitchen island, Herve looked up from his newspaper as well.

“Maman Papa it came.” She grinned her beautiful bright smile turning the magazine towards them, revealing her face on the cover of vogue becoming the youngest ever to do so.

“Oh petit soleil that’s wonderful.” Herve grinned proudly of his daughter who is already accomplishing so much and he couldn’t wait to see her continue to do so, he wrapped his arm around her pressing kisses on her head.

“Mon cheri!” Pascale gasped looking at the cover as her filled with fresh wet tears, she scooped her only daughter in her arms rocking them back and forth, “I am so proud of you my darling.”

Estelle giggled happily just as Chalres stood up and picked her up spinning her around making her giggles fill the room.

“That’s so cool petite soeur!” Charles grinned setting his favorite sibling down gently.

“Merci Cha!” She grinned up at him, before getting pushed back as Arthur tackled her into a hug, wrapping his arms around his twin tightly, “Congrats mon jumeau!” She giggled kissing his cheek.

Lorenzo walked over gently hugging his little sister tightly and kissing her forehead.

Jules stood grinning proudly at his goddaughter, he scooped her up spinning her around making her laugh, “Ah ma belle, i’m so proud.” He pressed kisses to top of her head making her giggle.

“Merci juju!” Estrelle grinned at her godfather.

“I think this calls for chocolate cake to celebrate.” Pascale smiled watching her twins heads snap towards her in unison.

“CHOCOLATE CAKE!” Estelle and Arthur gasped in unison, their favorite food, dessert, anything to do with food is chocolate desserts especially their mothers chocolate cake.

“Please Maman!” The twins sent their identical puppy dog eyes towards their mother.

“Of course my darlings.” Pascale fondly smiled kissing both of their cheeks.

April 20, 2015

Estelle a year ago joined the Ferrari Academy and had started driving with Prema this season in formula 4, with her teammates Zhou Guanyu and Ralf Aron, she currently dominating all the rookies in the series and putting up a good fight with the rest of the grid, the team thinking the next year will be more her year.

Estelle has becoming more familiar with the Prema team as her brother is also apart of the team and her godfather was also once a part of the Prema team, so she’s began to find a family there but more so with the ferrari academy.

She accepted to go with Angelina Ertsou, one of the more important and influential people in the series’s before formula one and someone who’s has began to care lots for the young girl who’s very determined to prove herself.

Angelina has been going to different karting races when she has the chance to look for upcoming talents and kids Prema may want to have on their teams and where they would recommend them to sign to a junior team. Also seeing kids who they have to talked to already who they know they want to have in the future.

Estelle eye was caught of on the kart with number 8, happening to watch the person driving with her number, who was leading the race almost the entire time until the last lap when someone behind the kart clipped it and number eight was pushed off the trac as the back of the kart was ripped off, and Estelle couldn’t help but frown seeing the kids race be ruined because of someone behind him knowing how much that’s sucks. She watched the race finished and saw the kid who clipped the kart being happy and arrogant with his win.

Estelle saw the kid in number 8 take the helmet off showing a younger boy with light brown hair, she could she the way he frowned and walked off towards one of sides of a building, she kept that in mind when she felt Angelina tap her arm to get up and walk to set a of parents that Angelina have talked to before.

“David! Terri!” Angelina smiled as she walked over the two but she could feel her face slip into concern as she saw them turn around and both looking distressed, “Is everything alright?”

“Our son we turned to see the end of the race and when we turned back he was out of his kart and gone.” Terri hurriedly explained looking worried not wanting to move knowing their son saw them their last.

Estelle couldn’t help but frown thinking of a boy that she saw walk away, “Was his number eight by chance.”

The parents turned slightly noticing the younger girl who’s face was covered in freckles and had beautiful green hazel eyes, her chestnut brown hair was in high ponytail spilt into two braids, a green quarter zip jacket with a black puffer vest over it, black leggings, and black leather boots.

“He is, did you see him?” David looked concerned as he hoped for good answer from the young girl.

“I think so i can go bring him back if you would like?” Estelle kindly offered having a feeling they woundnt want to leave as she saw they also have two younger children as well.

The parents both breathes a sigh of relief thanking the girl profusely who waved it off with a kind smile excusing herself walking over to building seeing a young boy sitting against the wall crying.

Estelle sat down slowly next to him not wanting to frighten him, “You know when i got clipped out i cried for a long while.”

The young boys head lifted up seeing someone sitting next to him with a kind smile towards him, He sniffed whipping his face, “Did you ever get over it?” He knew this was only his second year in karting but he wanted to prove himself so hard and that was difficult when his race was ruined with something out of his control.

Estelle gently scoffed, “Not for a long while. I cried for so long, i think my eyes were permanently red for a long while!” The boy smiled slightly making Estelle happy she is making him feel a bit better.

“But what i did learn later on was that to be a great driver you have to bad races and make mistakes because that’s how you get better. It’s okay to have a bad race or for it end with something out of your control but if you gave it your all then that’s all that matter. We are human and at the end of the day we aren’t perfect. So losing is okay even though it doesn’t always feel the best.” Estelle gave the advice she wished she knew when she had bad race days and would beat herself up for along time, something she still try’s not to do anymore.

The boy slowly nodded listening intently to the older girl, he didn’t feel completely better but he did feel a lot better than he did a few minutes ago, “Thank you.” Before his eyes opened wider sheepishly realizing he doesn’t know her name yet, “I’m Ollie, Ollie Bearman.”

Estelle smiled at the younger boy watching him put his hand out for a handshake, she gently took his hand shaking it, “Hello Ollie, i’m Estelle Leclerc.”

Ollie gasped in recognition, “Your the only girl driver in F4!” Ollie smiled having been rooting for her since he started watching the series.

Estelle smiled and nodded, “I am, but we do need to get you back to your parents buddy they’re looking for you.” She stood up brushing herself off holding a hand down for Ollie who gently took and stood and when Estelle was going to take her hand away Ollie just tightens his grip on her hand, Estelle just smiled at the young boy and walked over to where his parents were, seeing Angelina talk with another set of parents in the distance.

She watched the two parents both gasp in relief hugging their son tightly who was apologizing realizing he scared them.

Terri and David pulled back from their son looking at the young girl who found him, “Thank you so much.” Terri smiled in thankfulness at Estelle.

Estelle just smiled, “It’s not a problem.

“Where are my manners, I’m Terri Bearman and this is my husband David.” Terri smiled holding her hand out to Estelle who smiled seeing where Ollie got it from.

“I’m Estelle Leclerc.” Estelle politely smiled shaking Terri’s hand.

Angelina finshed talking with the other parents she had to talk to walking over seeing Estelle had found Ollie.

Angelina was talking with David and Teri, as Ollie walked around them and stood with Estelle who kneeled down to be level with him as she talked to Ollie.

The conversation with the three of them was at the end when they heard two loud laughs they looked over seeing Estelle and Ollie both laughing hard, and Ollie was naturally leaning on the older girl, who was about five years older then him.

“Ollie doesn’t usually get comfortable with people that fast.” Terri smiled seeing her son laugh and be comfortable with another person.

Angeline fondly smiled, “It’s Estelle, she has that effect of people.”

“We can see that.” David smiled seeing the two both talk so animated with each other and he had a feeling this would not be the last time they saw Estelle.

“I’ll see you again right?” Ollie looked hopeful as he looked at her.

“Promise buddy.” Estelle gave his hair a ruffle having a feeling Ollie will be joining Prema sooner than later.

The Bearmans watched the two walk away, “We’ll see Estelle again won’t we?” Ollie looked at his parents in hopefulness.

Terri brushed his hair smiling at her son, “You really like don’t you?”

Ollie rapidly nodded, “She’s awesome!”

The parents shared a look figuring they could ask Angelina a way to have Estelle be able to talk to Ollie.

What they all didn’t know what that it was the beginning of a amazing friendship and mentorship between the two racers.

July 21, 2015

The air just felt bare, silent, stoic. Estelle didn’t know but it just felt wrong knowing there would never be a time to make new memories with Jules again, never a time to go to a baseball game with him again, never a time to get a hug from him again, never a time to have sleepovers at his house for godfather-goddaughter days again. She knew there was never going to be a day she didn’t miss him.

Jules has been there for everything, he’s been there for her whole life, most of every family memories include Jules, he’s family he always will be.

Estelle couldn’t help but think that Jules would be lonely wherever he’s ended up and she hoped she’s wrong she couldn’t live with herself if she knew Jules was alone and without any family and friends.

Estelle leaned against the outside of church after his funeral, not even knowing how it already ended, she was trying not sob the entire funeral as she helped her two brothers hands.

She felt someone sit next to her and a hand intertwines with hers and head lean on her shoulder, she knew it was her younger twin brother, who was hurting as much as her.

“You’re not dying without me.” Arthur’s voice was raspy from not talking for awhile.

Estelle knew what he meant, they all could see Lorenzo become broken without his best friend and she knew exactly what Arthur meant. She looked over seeing the dry tear marks on his cheeks kissing the top of his head before leaning her head on his, “Never Arty, Never.” She knew it would destroy then if the one of them died before the other. She didn’t want to live in a world without her other half, a feeling she knew was mutual.

Charles walked out of the church looking to the side seeing his younger siblings curled up together, Arthur his eyes were red from crying and cheeks cried with tears, but Estelle’s face was blank but her eyes were what showed all the pain, the beautiful sparkle in her eye gone, he hoped he never had to see that look on her again.

Charles walked over sitting next to Estelle taking her other hand kissing her head letting her lean on his shoulder he wrapped one arm around both of his twins and his other holding Estelle’s hand.

The siblings sat for the rest the time in silence, cuddled up with each other for the rest of the funeral.

June 20, 2017

A seventeen year old Estrelle who looked heartbroken as she stood in the doorway to her fathers hospital room, she knew this was goodbye and the last time she could ever speak to her papa again, her mother gently touched her shoulder giving her a sad but encouraging look as she is the last one of her siblings to say her goodbyes.

She told a deep breath slowly walking in seeing the oxygen mask over his mouth and nose, she scooted the chair closer to his bed sitting down holding her fathers hand resting it against her lips kissing the back of her Papa’s hand.

Herve eyes weakly fluttered open looking to his right seeing his beautiful little princess who isn’t so small anymore and knew this was the last time they would see each other, his other hand weakly tried to get to his oxygen mask to speak, Estelle quickly helped him slip it off slighty.

“I’m so proud of you petit soleil.” He weakly croaked out his hand tightening around hers.

She shallowed before before she spoke, “I got into formula one papa, i’ll make you proud i promise.” She knew she lied as she just got accepted into formula two after winning the formula three championship this season, but she knew it’s always been her fathers dream to see her get into formula one and he’s been her biggest supporter and if she has to lie to make him happy, it’s fine by her. It just means she needs to make sure she gets into formula one after the next season.

Herve eyes lights up with happiness and proudness, tears filled his eyes as his hand weakly reached for the back of her head pulling her closer as he kissed her forehead, “Je t'aime petit soleil.”

“moi aussi, je t'aime papa.” Estelle mumbled back telling her father she loved him for the last time trying to hold her tears from falling, she felt the hand of her mother on her shoulder she gently pulled back from her papa looking at his face once more, the twos eyes connecting saying everything that was not said out-loud, she turned around holding a hand over moth to hold back her sobs as she walked into the hallway where her brothers were waiting, her twin who was crying into Lorenzo’s shoulder and Charles who was staring into the distance.

Estella sluggishly walked towards Chalres sitting next to him, “I lied i told papa i got into F1.”

Charles blinked hearing his sisters voice he reached his hand over holding hers, “I told papa i got into Ferrari.”

“Then we have to do that.” Estella declared making sure the last thing she told her Papa will come true.

“We will.” Charles leaned his head onto top of her head as they listen to the sound of their father’s heart monitor stop, both of their identical eyes losing its sparkle, again.

December 17, 2018

Estelle who just turned eighteen a few months ago finally has got the time to see the penthouse she bought the day she turned eighteen.

She picked her favorite place New York. Jules took her many times when she was younger, they would take a trip together, sightseeing around New York, going to see a yankees game and ever since the first time Estelle loves New York, and has been yankees fan since.

She’s wanted to have a place in New York since she could remember and the day she turned old enough she signed the papers.

Estella knows starting in Formula one in a few months she won’t get as much time as she will like to come visit but it will be nice to have a place where she can go and relax and just be herself even if it’s for a few days, she is also close to the yankees stadium and she close to Vogue headquarters which is where she has to go to a lot anyways.

She bought a penthouse that has two stories and a loft in it, The view of the city is beautiful and almost all the windows are from the floor to ceilings, the whole bottom floor is very open and feels spacious. A lot of metal and glass around the whole penthouse, very open floor plan on the bottom floor, her kitchen is very open with a large island, four guest bedrooms and her master bedroom, a huge bookcase that’s she already planning to fill with many books, a office that has the perfect view of the city, and her own at home gym, her bathroom has a huge bathtub perfect for relaxing where she can see the city from the bathtub, both stories have a balcony that wrap around the outside of the building and she has to have her key or a code to get to her floor from the elevator which is good for safety, and there is security in the apartment building twenty four seven.

She unlocked her beautiful door walking into the home that’s fully furnished alreadly and she already felt at peace.

She walked across the center of the room towards the other side that’s filled with large window loving the view she has of New York City.

Estelle turned her head taking everything in she walked down the hallway to the right of the front door that she knows is her side, she opened the door to her bedroom locking the open and simply look, she walked across towards her closet, that she already loves as it has so much room for close, Estelle always has to much clothing and she knew it would not be difficult for her to fill it fast.

Estelle turned to the other side of her room that had the bathroom door reaviling her beauty of a bathroom, a huge glass shower with a rain shower head, a giant bathtub by the windows, two matching sinks with large mirrors, and a vanity with a stool and mirror on the other side, she closed the door walking out of the room back to hallway passing the front door again heading up the first flight of stairs where she knows is her gym and all of her guest bedrooms, she walked towards the next set of stairs that leads to her loft is what she picked for her office.

Estelle walked towards the desk sitting in the chair looking out the window and smiled she got her dream house. A place she can choose to call home.

Having a hard time call Monaco home after her Father and Jules death.

September 8, 2019

“MERCEDES THREW EVERYTHING AT THEM TODAY, CHARLES LECLERC COPED BRILLIANTLY. HE WON IN SPA, HE WINS IN MONZA. ESTELLE LECELEC THE ROOKE EVERYONE WAS TOLD TO LOOK OUT FOR, HAS JUST PROVED WHY WITH A SEOND PLACE PODIUM IN HER ROOKIE YEAR, NOT ONCE HAS SHE FINISHED LOWER THAN FIFTH THE WHOLE SEASON.”

Chalres cheered as he pulled his car into the first place spot, running towards his team getting hugs and pats on the back, before he heard more cheers again and turned seeing his sister getting out of her car in second place, and he couldn’t help the tears fillings his eyes seeing his little sister grow up and accomplish a piece of her dream he quickly ran towards her not being able to the see her bright smile that he knew she had under her helmet, he pulled her into a tight hug feeling her arms tighten around him.

They pulled back the two siblings looking at each other, placing there for heads together through their helmets.

“A sibling 1-2!” Charles grinned as he spoke to his sister knowing it’s been their dream to get a 1-2 together.

Estelle laughed full of excitement, “We’ll have to get a 1-2-3 next!” She grinned under the helmet knowing sooner than later they will be joined by Arthur and they will have a podium of just Leclercs.

Chalres fondly laughed, putting his hand where her buckle is on her helmet helping it undo, watching her pull it off head as he undid his, He threw a arm around her shoulder, as they walked to the weight scale.

Estelle was the first to walk in the cool off room she put a finger over her lips as she looked at the cameras before walking towards the winners seat which should be Charles seat today but Estelle quickly sat in it grinning as she drank from her water bottle.

Lewis walked into chucked shaking his head seeing where Estelle sat, patting her on the head congratulating her for her first podium. Lewis has followed Estelle career for awhile and has been one of her biggest supporters since she joined Formula one.

Charles walked into the cool off room setting his helmet on the table drinking water and wiping his face, as he turned around seeing Estelle sitting in his seat with an innocent face, Charles raised an eyebrow laughing, “Really?” Estelle just smiled in reply.

“Alright off ma cherie.” He gently pushed her off and toward her seat, “Don’t worry soon it will be your seat.”

And Charles wasn’t wrong the next race, Singapore, Estelle got her first win, as a rookie in Singapore. She continued to win the rest of the races thought our the season, fighting until the last race to win the championship against Lewis and gaining the championship title, as a rookie and a female.

December 12, 2019

Estelle was in one of the many Vouge headquarters seeing the young and upcoming models and doing a talk day for them all, especially as she just became a formula one world champion at 19 and have been working with vogue for 10 years already.

The talk was her giving tips and advice in the model world, talking about the highs and lows of being a model and she showed them a few different model walks and had the group of around 20 young girl teenagers copy her, the hours went by fast before she knew it almost everyone was gone and she had finished answering anyone who came up to her for questions.

Estelle saw a girl who looked a few years younger than her sitting on a bench packing up her bag and sliding off her heeled shoes, wincing slighty, Estelle walked over stopping in front of her, “May i sit?” She gestured to the spot next to the the girl.

The girls head snapped up nodding, “Sim. I mean yes.” She answered in Portuguese before giving a sheepish smile, Estelle smiled sitting down looking at her sore feet, “My feet used to the same, so i started putting plaster on the parts that got hurt and i never had a problem again.” Estelle gestured to the girls feet knowing what’s it’s like to get use to heels.

The girl blinked in surpise nodding, “Oh thank you.” She smiled slighty putting her hand out, “I’m Fransicia but everyone calls be Kika.”

“It’s nice to meet you Kika, I’m Estelle” Estelle smiled shaking her hand, having a feeling Kika was going to become someone pretty special to her.

“Oh i know.” Kika smiled slighty shy having always looked up to Estelle as she is so young and is already the top model worldwide.

“Well can i have your number then Kika.” Estelle gently smiled at the girl, knowing she was going to great things in the modeling world.

“Course.” Kika blinked slighty shocked that she wanted be number but then realized Estelle is still a regular person too and she is only three years older than her. Kika took the phone Estella passed to her typing in her number real quick, before passing it back.

The two said their goodbyes to each other and it was the start of a beautiful friendship.

May 24, 2022

Estelle parked her Porsche 911 Turbo S Carbriolet, That she of course bought in a dark green color. She grabbed her green Dior saddle bag, slipping on her Prada sunglasses getting out of the car, walking up towards the hair salon that her mother owns, Estelle knew her mother didn’t have any clients today but she would be at the salon, She walked into the salon putting sunglasses on the top of her head smiling as she watched her mother head look up to tell whoever was coming in they weren’t open for business today but stopped when she her daughter.

“Oh my darling!” Pascale gasped in delight rushing forward pulling her daughter into a hug, feeling a rush of nostalgia when they hugged and Estelle taller than her when she used to be shorter than her. Pascale pulled back cupping Estelle face having missed seeing her the last few week in person, “Mon amour your aren’t suppose be here till tomorrow night?” Pascale questioned knowing it was a rule in their family when it was Monaco race weekend all her children come home and have dinner together and that is tomorrow night.

“It was a surprise thought we could have the day and tomorrow just us before the boys come over.” Estelle smiled watching her mother light up in excitement knowing she missed her children a lot and is glad to have anytime with them.

“Of course darling!” Pascale smiled kissing her daughters cheek, “Is this why your brother dropped me off today?” Pascale smiled watching the slight sheepish look cover her only daughter’s face, a look she saw more often with Estelle as she grew up.

“Yes Maman.” Estelle knew her mom would figure it out quickly, As her mother knew all her children the best.

Pascale fondly smiled, “Now it’s time to do your hair mon cher!” Always loving to do her daughters hair as they don’t get as much time anymore.

“Of course Maman.” Estelle fondly smiled letting her mother drag her to Salon chair and tying the cutting cape over her.

Pascale looked over her daughter’s beautiful hair deciding what to do, “Hmm what about a gloss?” She looked through the mirror seeing the nod of approval, Pascale knowing that her daughter doesn’t love to dye her hair and would rather it be her natural color.

“Your shoes were beautiful in the picture you sent.” Pascale complimented her daughter, Estelle always made sure to send photos and videos when she was away of everything and anything so her mother could still be a big part of her life.

“Good, i have a pair in your size Maman.” Estelle cheekily grinned knowing her mother didn’t love how all her children spoil her as they have grown up and earn their own money.

“Of course you did cheri.” Pascale fondly smiled knowing she couldn’t stop her children from spoiling her, she’s tried.

The mother and daughter just talked for hours as Pascele did the gloss, before she cut Estelle’s hair and gave her a blow out.

Estelle stood up gently taking off the cutting cape fixing the white and black stripped sweater that’s tied across her shoulder, with her black cropped shirt with blue jeans and white converse, as she smiled at her hair gently touching always loving it the best when her mother did it.

“Merci Maman!” Estelle kissed her mother cheeks in thank you. She linked arms with her mother as they walked out of the salon locking it up, before walking over to Estelle car going to get lunch together before they shopped the rest of the day.

#lando norris x reader #jack hughes x reader #f1 driver!reader #f1 x y/n #lando norris x y/n #jack hughes #jh86 #nhl x reader #f1 x female reader #charles leclerc sister #charles leclerc x reader

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jebewonmorelike · 1 year

Text

Young and Rich, Tall and Just Ask Me Out Already

wc: 2.1k pronouns: n/a; none used warnings: none really? maybe the tiniest bit of angst... fluff... and i used the word d*ck once, my bad also you can pretend they're in college or high school, doesn't really matter summary: prepschool!ricky/richboy!ricky just can't get scholarshipkid!reader to go out with him no matter how many helicopters he lands in the school courtyard ~masterlist~ ♡ ~kofi (no pressure at all)~ guys... whoah... rich-boy-with-a-soft-side ricky just kind of hits different? i must say i outdid myself with this one so please, please, please enjoy :)

Ricky has been trying to convince you to go on a date with him for two weeks now.

The first time he asked you was after Chemistry one afternoon. You had been assigned as lab partners at the beginning of the semester and shared a desk during class every Monday, Wednesday and Friday from 1:10 to 2:40 P.M.

At first, you'd found it kind of difficult to relate to Ricky. His dad was a CEO at some big tech company and he didn't really let anyone forget it. Always flaunting his designer watch with the newest phone model in hand, entire classes full of students couldn't help but fall for him as he draped his Louis Vuitton jacket casually over one shoulder.

But you were just "the scholarship kid". A humble upbringing and a borderline genius IQ, attending this prep academy was an opportunity you and your family could never have turned down.

Working on labs with Ricky wasn't difficult-- mainly because he let you do all the work while he listened to music and played on his phone. But if you were being honest, you didn't really mind. You enjoyed working on the labs at your own (fast) pace and you didn't have to worry about a lab partner messing up your data.

You never disliked Ricky. But you also could never really figure out what to say to him when he talked so expensive and acted so expensive...

And looked so expensive.

But after a few weeks of silent lab work together (and a handful of flunked quizzes returned to Ricky's desk), the tall blonde suddenly turned to you with his latest graded test in hand.

"What did you get?" He asked, eyes peering over to try to get a glimpse at your paper.

"Oh, um..." You placed it flat on the table.

His eyes widened in surprise. "105? Again!?"

"What do you mean 'again'? How do you know that?" You questioned, looking back at him suspiciously.

He completely ignored your question. "There wasn't even a bonus question on this one! Where did the extra points come from?"

"The mini-essay I submitted last night on chemical kinetics."

He stared at you for a moment. "You're kind of weird, you know that?"

You nodded. "I guess you would think that."

"What's that supposed to mean?" He questioned, dark eyebrows furrowing.

"Do you want me to help you or not? I would think calling me weird wouldn't really help persuade me," you quipped, snatching his test from his hand and reading the grade circled in red pen: 63.

"Hey! Don't--," he protested, trying to steal the paper back to no avail as you slid it into your bag and zipped it closed. "I didn't even ask you for help yet."

"You were obviously going to. You've barely said one word to me in four weeks, so. I'm pretty sure you weren't just making friendly conversation."

Ricky blinked back at you silently for a moment. "It's not like you've said anything to me either."

"I'll look over your test to see what you need to improve on. Do you have the rest of the quizzes from this month with you?" You asked quickly, standing up from your seat and slinging your bag over your shoulder as the bell rang.

"Uh, no I don't," he admitted, not making any move to get up now that class had ended.

"Okay, well--."

"But I'll bring them tonight. To the library," he interrupted.

You stood there silently, not really sure what to say.

"Be there at 9," he said definitively, a grin suddenly spreading across his face as he stood up, grabbed his bag, and started walking towards the door.

"You--... Do you think I don't have a life or something? I... What if I had plans!?"

"You did not have plans," he said with a laugh. Just before he walked out the door, he turned over his shoulder to add, "But now you do. With me."

It was like that, how you started tutoring Ricky late nights at the library. You met after 9 P.M. the days that you had class together, going over the material you'd covered that afternoon. He was a surprisingly passable student and you started to wonder if failing his classes was somehow intentional. He started offering to help you with lab work as the weeks went on, messing up detrimentally only a handful of times but you did appreciate his effort if nothing else.

Your tutoring was definitely helping; Ricky's quizzes came back now with passing grades that had even once reached the height of a 91. But what you didn't want Ricky to know was that he was helping you, too.

He had been right that day: you hadn't had any plans that night. And you rarely did. It was hard to fit in with the other students at your school when they had all led such different lives than you. You could have never guessed in a million years that Ricky would eventually become something like your friend.

Ricky made you laugh. He sharpened your pencils for you. He brought you snacks you liked. He'd let you borrow his Nintendo Switch for the day, as long as you promised to give it back to him in class. You hated to admit it, but a few weeks into your tutoring sessions and there was much less studying going on than was originally intended.

And another thing you hated (not really) to admit: you liked Ricky.

Sure, he could be a little overconfident. A little braggadocios. A little too reliant on his daddy's money.

But late at night in the library, you both grew tired together and the sleep deprivation gave way to a much more vulnerable Ricky. He'd tell you about his family, his childhood, his favorite things, his troubles, his dreams... and he'd listen carefully to you when you shared yours, too.

One time, after sharing a surprisingly upsetting childhood memory involving his father, you could see Ricky's eyes start to water. He tried to brush it off, adjusting his watch as the walls of the persona began to build back up in defense. But before you could stop yourself, your hand had reached across the table and landed on top of his.

He stared at it for awhile before looking up to meet your eyes. "Thanks," he said quietly, swallowing with uncertainty.

You removed your hand and placed it back in your lap. "Sorry," you replied awkwardly.

"No, no, you're cute," he said quickly, a hand flying to cover his mouth when he saw the expression on your face and realized what he had said. "I--I--... I meant 'cool'. Like... Like I meant to say 'you're cool', as in, like, 'don't worry about it'."

His babbling just made you smile. "Freudian slip?"

"Exactly," he agreed hastily. "Wait, no!"

"Too late, no take backs," you blurt, flipping your textbook to the next page to continue with your notes. Your heart absolutely raced inside your chest when you heard Ricky lightly breathe out a laugh before following your lead and resuming his note-taking.

Ricky certainly had a public image he wanted to portray, but whenever he gave you a glimpse underneath the facade... that was when you couldn't help but fall.

So when he asked you out for the first time, sun shining as you walked together from Chemistry to the student lounge on a Friday afternoon, your stomach absolutely flipped with excitement.

"I'm gonna take you to dinner," Ricky said, hand combing through his blonde, coiffed hair.

"Like--... Like on a date?" You clarified, looking up at him to try to read his expression. But much to your dismay, he was looking straight ahead, not at you.

"Yeah," he responded flippantly, hands finding his pockets. "There's this new place that opened downtown that's, like, mega exclusive. Figured you can't say no to that."

"No."

"Exactly... Wait, what?" Ricky stopped in his tracks, eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

"No thanks," you repeated. Looking at him now, you could tell exactly who was standing in front of you. No matter how much you liked Ricky, you didn't want to go on a date with this persona of his.

You wanted to go on a date with Ricky.

"Oh..." He replied, shock written all over his face. He swallowed hard and you swore you could see his cheeks start to redden with embarrassment.

"I really like you, Ricky," you clarified with a smile as you watched his eyebrows shoot up at the confession. "But no thank you."

You didn't wait around to field any possible questions. Turning on your heels, you headed off in the direction of your dorm leaving Ricky absolutely dumbfounded in the campus courtyard.

The next time he asked you out, it was in the hallway before class the following Monday. He handed you a small, light blue gift box, his eyes looking everywhere except at you.

You suppressed a smile, opening the box to find a dainty, rose gold bangle with the signature Tiffany T-shaped cuff ends. After having a mini heart attack over how much the bracelet in your hands must've cost, you took a deep breath to maintain your composure.

"I can't accept this," you managed, though you had to admit you were a bit sad to refuse it (and to refuse him a second time).

Ricky stared back at you, absolutely astonished. "Why... Why not?"

"I really like you, Ricky," you confessed again. "But I'll have to say no thank you."

As your professor called for everyone to take their seats, you hurried inside the classroom and left Ricky to trail in behind you completely stunned once more.

Ricky has asked you out about eight more times since that day. Each time, the simple question is skirted around and instead replaced with more and more elaborate and expensive gestures.

Now, it's 9:30 on a Friday night and you're typing away on your laptop, working on a paper that isn't due until the end of the semester when Ricky bursts through the doors of the library and darts straight towards your usual table.

"Are you seeing someone else?" He blurts out, catching his breath as he stands in front of you waiting for an answer. His hair falls boyishly across his forehead and he's dressed in a a hoodie and black joggers. You get the impression he had rushed here suddenly without any preparation and he looks so stupid cute.

"No," you reply, chewing on your cheeks to keep from smiling.

"Are you interested in men?"

"Unfortunately."

"You keep saying you like me and then you refuse to go out with me. Do you like me?" He asks, a little too loud for a library, but you're both lucky there's no one else that would be studying on a Friday night.

"I do," you confirm, watching as his eyes grow a bit more pleading as he wrestles with his own confusion.

"Then... Please... Will you please go out with me? I like spending time with you so much. I like talking to you so much. I really, really like you, (Y/N). Will you please just give me a chance?"

"Of course," you answer immediately.

"Yeah, I get it, I get--." Ricky's eyes suddenly light up as he realizes what you said. "REALLY?"

You nod, biting your lip in a satisfied smile and throwing your laptop into your backpack. "Let's go right now!"

He blinks quickly, following you as you stand up and walk towards the door. "Right now? But you--."

"Ricky, I don't really have any time to waste. I've been waiting for you to ask me out for two weeks now! Can you blame me for being a bit eager?"

"What... what do you mean? I've asked you out, like, a dozen times," he says as you step outside into the cool evening air, grabbing your wrist to stop you in your tracks.

You smile up at him. "No, you haven't."

"Yes, I--," he starts to protest, but you cut him off.

"You've told me you're taking me to an exclusive restaurant. You've bought me designer jewelry. You've given me an autographed poster from WayV. You've hired the Vienna Philharmonic to play at the student lounge. You've landed a helicopter in the middle of the courtyard..."

You watch as realization begins to wash over his face. His mouth hangs open a bit as he processes his numerous missteps. Then, a hand finds its way to the back of his neck as he smiles at you sheepishly. "Oh."

"So I've been waiting very patiently, you see."

"I'm sorry to keep you waiting," he says with a smile, and then more solemnly he adds, "And I'm really sorry for being a total dick."

"Well, you're in luck. The only way to make it up to me is to get late night pancakes with me. And it just so happens, that I am incredibly hungry right now," you say, taking his hand and starting to pull him in the direction of the parking lot.

Ricky laces your fingers together as he falls in step with you. "Oh! I know the best place for pancakes, it's--."

You clear your throat and he stops his thought in its tracks.

"The diner?" He asks, looking to you for approval.

You nod, giggling back at him. "The diner."

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draftsandrecs · 4 months

Text

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Summary: Reader finds herself crushing on her sister’s ex boyfriend after they run in to each other years after the break up.

Word Count: 4,670

Warnings: 18+, smut, no condoms, dirty talk

Taglist: @jbbarnes-dog-tags

‘And substitute regular milk for oat milk please.’

You type a quick ‘okay’ to your sister as you head to the coffee shop that you frequent almost every day. Today’s weather is sort of gloomy but nice. Lately it’s been rainy, mild showers and light thunderstorms. Your favorite kind of weather to have a latte while accompanied with a book. You scrub the bottom of your shoes against the coffee’s welcome mat to prevent tracking in mud or leaves.

“Good morning, welcome to Aristocrats!” You thank the familiar barista as you head to the counter pulling out your phone to order both drinks.

“What can I get you?” The barista asks with a smile on their face.

“Can I get a hot vanilla latte with 2 shots of espresso and oatmilk?” The employee mumbles the order back as they input it into the system as you continue.

“I also would like an iced chai latte with 3 pumps of brown sugar syrup instead of vanilla. As well as one shot of espresso, thank you.” You put your phone away as you get your wallet out from your bag.

“$15.28, cash or card?” The barista asks as you hand them your card to swipe.

You find a few dollar bills stashed in your bag as you drop it into the tip jar.

“Thank you, just give us a few minutes.” Handing you the card back you put it back into its usual spot as you crumble the receipt into the bag.

One of the reasons why you love this coffee shop isn’t just for the drinks but the book collection they have along with the scenery. It’s located downtown with windows that face the street that pour in natural light. The owner kept most of its natural architecture. Which included the layout, windows that surround the building on two walls, as well as the little fireplace that runs on cold days.

As you wait for the drinks you browse a few magazines near a table before you find one that peaks your interest. You situate yourself near a bar in front of the front facing windows to take advantage of the light that projects in. You flip through the first couple pages not caring for the luxurious ads of Gucci or Louis Vuitton. You never understood why anyone would spend thousands on a bag. You ignore the bell above the door that signals a customer as you continue reading about a woman’s divorce and her advice. While you have never been married it’s interesting to read about people’s lives.

“Here you go, hot vanilla latte and an iced chai.” The barista sets the drinks down as you reply with a thank you.

You look towards the counter as you spot a man ordering. Something along the lines of an americano. Typical. Men never go for good drinks. Reaching for your drink you realize you forgot a straw. Getting up you head to the side of the counter to grab one. As you begin to reach for one another, one hand is trying to grab a cocktail straw for their drink.You quickly retreat your hand back apologizing.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t see you there.” You say, embarrassed as if you were in his space.

“No troubles, you’re fine.” You turn to him finally getting a good look at him as he does the same.

“Oh shit, hey kid. How’ve you been?” It’s Bucky, your sister's ex-boyfriend. His eyes light up as he smiles at you. Like he’s excited to see you.

“I’ve been good. I finished up my last semester early. In December I graduated well. I didn't walk but I received the diploma which is just as good.” He crosses his arms as he listens to you furrowing his eyebrows that he always used to when listening intently.

He smiles as he lightly pats your upper arm in congratulations, “Hey that's great, really, you find any jobs or anything yet?”

“No, I mean I have but the pay is so shit that it’s not even worth it.” He nods understanding the job market has plummeted.

“I get that, if I hadn’t secured the job I have now a few years ago I probably would be back in school not knowing what to do.” Bucky came from an affluent family. His family always had money due to businesses, properties, and of course trusts and estates. His comment comes off a little tone deaf but you know he means well just trying to relate.

“Thanks,” he says as he grabs the drink from the barista as he begins adding a little packet of heavy cream.

“You stay around here? Or often?” He questions out of curiosity but also a small part of him hopes you say yes.

“Oh yeah. I moved back in with my parents after college. I mean- I don’t have a job so I really had no choice.” You hope you don’t sound like a complete fool of yourself. No job, living with parents, and your daily activities consist of getting coffee and reading.

“You’re still figuring it out, there’s no time limit.” His words comfort you, making you feel less alone. Even if he can’t exactly relate, it’s still nice to have someone understand your struggles.

Bucky continues to ask, “If you got a few minutes, you mind if we sit and catch up?” You smile and nod, letting out a small yes as you lead him to your little nook.

You're laughing at some story he’s telling from a recent event he went to where a kid found drawing on the walls of an art exhibit.

“Oh no, did the parents do anything?” You ask taking a sip of your mostly watered down chai.

“God no, remember these people think that their kids can do no wrong. Instead the dad threw him over his shoulder as they left quickly.” His answer made you shake your head wondering how parents never discipline their children.

“What have you been up to? Last thing I heard you were supposed to be taking over the family business.” The family business was just that- business. It was just managing properties, selling, and trading. But it brought in so much revenue. It’s the most popular realtor company in the state along with locations in neighboring states. It was started in the 40’s by Bucky’s great great grandfather and has now succeeded multiple generations.

“I have, well not entirely. I told my dad that I wanted to travel some first before settling with the job. Once you’re in that position all you can do is live for work, live to work. It just seems exhausting.” He sighs as he runs his hand through his short hair.

“You know I have a degree in Architecture, and I want to put that to use but my dad keeps pressuring me to take over the business. The money is good-

You cut him off,“But is it worth it? Money is great but if you aren’t happy with your job or what you do, no amount of money can compare to your happiness.”

“Yes, exactly. I’ve been sort of going back and forth on it but maybe I just need to go with what I want rather than what someone else wants.” Saying the quiet part outloud made Bucky realize that he wants to do what makes him happy regardless of money or fortune.

“You know you’re pretty insightful for your age. I wish I was like that when I was in my early 20s. But you seem so grounded. That’s very admirable Y/N.” The compliment causes your heart to skip a beat. You usually don’t get too many compliments, especially not on your mental or emotional intelligence.

“Thank you, it’s probably the books and because I’m the youngest child.” Your sister and you have a 10 year age gap that didn’t really help form a sibling relationship until you entered high school.

You weren’t planned which resulted in a little bit (a lot) of negligence from your parents. They had albums of pictures of her, always went to her events, and constantly doted on her. You were the youngest and the last. You were often thought of last. If you wanted them to make it to your events, school lunches, or any activity they'd send your grandparents. Which you became very close with at a young age because they noticed the difference between you and your sister. They never made you feel like a burden or second thoughts. You’ll always be grateful for that. Your parents apologized to you when you were older but the childhood trauma still stuck.

“I forgot you guys did have an age gap. I guess it’s more noticeable when you were younger.” His comment glides over, not caring to bring up your sister, his ex-girlfriend. Which you’re kind of happy about since he asked to catch up with you and he genuinely meant it.

Before he can get another word in your phone lights up, your sister is calling.

“You need to get that?” Bucky asks, noticing the screen.

“Yeah probably.” You sigh internally knowing that the coffee catch up is ending soon.

You swipe on the screen as you hold up a finger to give you a second.

“Where are you? It’s been an hour, I thought you said you were just getting coffee, not running errands.” Her voice is a little upset and can be heard by Bucky which makes you cringe a little.

“I’m sorry, I ran into someone and wanted to catch up.” Yeah her ex who you seem to be getting along with a little too well.

“It’s fine. I just didn’t know where my coffee was. Or you.” The last part was thrown in quickly to save herself. You know she doesn’t mean to be rude but that’s just how she can be.

“I’ll be home soon, sorry for taking so long. I didn’t realize how long I was out.” You really didn’t mean to take so long but the conversation lasted longer than expected.

The phone beep indicates a hang up as her reply.

“I’m sorry, I guess I got to go. But it was really nice seeing you again.” You stand up to gather your belongings.

“I really enjoyed it. I had a nice time, I really needed it.” Bucky meant what he said. It had been a while since he had a genuine conversation that wasn’t about work or mundane questions.

“Maybe we can catch up again, I mean I obviously don’t work so I’m always free.” You're hopeful that he’ll agree instead of it just being a one time occurrence.

“You have my number still? Or can I get yours?” You shake your head not remembering if your phone transferred his contact from the last time you updated it.

He grabs his phone to unlock it and lets you type in your number. Once you save your contact you head towards the door,“I got to run, but like I said just message me whenever you’re free. I can always make time.” I can always make time for you is what you wanted to say but bit your tongue instead.

“For sure, I’ll text you soon.” He promises as he watches you walk out of the small coffee shop knowing he’s already forming a liking to you.

It’s been a few months since you ran into Bucky at the coffee shop. Since that day you guys had been messaging non stop. Which quickly turned into late night phone calls that made your stomach hurt from laughing and cheeks sore from smiling. You only get together once a week since he’s still helping his dad and it took up most of his day. But he never fails to call or message you throughout the day to let you know what he’s up to. You’ve learned a lot from each other these past few months. He loves classic cars, museums, and fashion. He doesn’t care much for the bars but will go when his friends plan to. He designs a lot and is great at drawing too. He enjoys taking you out to museums, botanicals, and lately since the weather is better he’s taken you on hike trails. In return you’ve introduced him to books you enjoy and have started listening to audiobooks together. You’ve also found out how to make your own coffee. Bucky has an espresso machine in his condo that he never used. But together you guys figured out how to make your favorite drinks. Though you still go to the same coffee shop for convenience. It’s been a week since you’ve hung out and you expect a hangout session is due.

It’s morning when you get an unexpected call from Bucky. You answer without hesitation excited to hear his voice.

“Hey, what’s up?” You ask as you sit on your bed anticipating his message.

“What are you doing?” He sounds like he has a smile on his face, which you picked up quickly through the phone calls how his voice and facial expressions match.

“Nothing, just at home.” You look over at the clock next to you flashing 9:52 a.m.

“Would you be opposed to packing a bag and going to the next state over?” At first you thought he was joking until he said “you there?”

“No, I mean yes that sounds fun.I’d love to tag along” You say quickly gathering yourself.

“Perfect. I can be there in an hour. Just got to drop off a few things for my dad and I’ll be on the way. You won’t need much, just a few things to last a night or so. Oh and pack a nice dress, I want to take you on a date.” Your heart flutters at the word date, he hadn’t used that word yet, neither have you. It was sort of a weird territory but this solidified there is more.

“Sounds good, I’ll see you then!” You hang up letting the phone fall on the bed as you rush to get ready and pack looking forward to the night.

You arrived around a little after 3 in the next state. But since you couldn’t check in until 4 o’clock Bucky showed you a few places around the city. You ventured into antique shops, locally owned book shops, and of course you had to try a coffee shop. He offered to buy you whatever you wanted and insisted that you had to pick out at least one thing that he could buy you or else you couldn’t leave the store. You opted for a few books (it was five in total of hardcover books you could never find near you and were too expensive to order online). He seemed pleased to be funding your reading addiction.

You check your phone’s time making sure you’re not late getting ready. Bucky said to be ready by 6:45 and you’re cutting it close at 6:30 trying to finish a few makeup touch ups. And you haven’t even gotten dressed yet. Bucky left the room an hour ago so you could get ready in private. He didn’t want to intrude on your space saying that ‘I know how women are. My mom always enjoyed getting ready alone because she didn’t want to feel rushed.’ He was right, if he was in the same room you’d feel like you would have to get ready quickly.

You curse trying to get your heels ons as you lace up the second heel trying to secure it as much as possible so you wouldn’t fall. As you’re finishing up and repacking your makeup to clean up the area the door clicks open as Bucky walks in. You turn to him hoping he likes it. It’s nothing extravagant to you compared to their style. It’s a black strapless elongated dress tailored to your height. A narrow slit starts from the upper thigh opening towards the bottom.

“Wow, you look incredible. I mean not that you don’t always look good but today, tonight you just look exceptional.” You try not to smile at his words but fail. It’s the first time you’ve ever seen him flustered.

“Thank you, is this too much? It’s my old winter formal dress but I didn’t have time to get a new one.” You hope your attire suits the restaurant dress code. The last thing you want to do is embarrass yourself in front of him.

“No, you look perfect. It’s perfect.” He’s matching with black slacks, sweater, and a long peabody coat.

“I can say the same for you, I like the monochromatic look. It suits you.” Your comment makes him smile as it means a lot coming from you.

“I wanted to look my best for you.” He checks his watch, noticing the time,”we should probably head down. The valet is waiting for us.” He holds out his hand as you accept it.

The waiter sat you at a booth per Bucky’s request. You’re glad to sit to relieve pressure off your feet. You only walked a little but the heels are skinny and feel like they’re stabbing your feet. Bucky orders drinks for you as you look at the menu. It’s limited but that’s how most fine dining restaurants operate.

“I want you to get whatever you want. My treat.” You don’t say thank you this time. “Don’t worry, I will.” Your reply comes out teasingly creates a smirk on his face knowing that you’re comfortable around him and letting him treat you accordingly..

The finished entrees have been pushed to the side leaving waiting to be picked up as you listen to him talk about this week's work load. Your phone interrupts him mid sentence as a message comes through from your sister. He doesn’t mean to pry, it was in the middle of the table after all.

“Do you need to get that?” He asks politely knowing that he’d give you all the time you needed.

You check it before answering him.

‘Hey, just checking on you, hope you’re doing okay. It feels like we haven’t talked in a little bit.’ For a second you feel bad. But you also know she only comes around when you don’t make plans or reach out first. You are always chasing and you hate forcing things, especially familial ties. It’s also not just that, that makes you feel bad. You’re sitting across from her ex-boyfriend who she dated for 4 years who she thought she was going to marry. Given it’s been two years since they’ve broken up. Now you’re sitting here wondering if you should leave for her sake or stay for what your heart wants.

“No it’s fine, just something with my sister.” He must’ve noticed your demeanor change as he grabs your hand from the table. He rubs his thumb across your hand soothing you.

“I get it, this situation isn’t ideal nor normal in a sense. It’s confusing, conflicting. Like you're questioning yourself what's right and wrong or too far. If you want me to take you home tonight and never speak again I understand. But I will say regardless of what happens after tonight. It’s up to you. It’s your feelings I respect ultimately. But I want you to know, I’d regret it if I don’t at least try. Because even though it’s only been a few months since we reconciled, I finally got to know someone that I have never met. Emotionally and mentally you captivate me in a way no one else has. Someone that actually listens to me, understands me, and wants me for me, not for what I have. I would be a fool not to chase someone like that regardless of who they're tied to.” He takes a small breath before finishing, “I don’t want to imagine a life without you. If it’s not you then I don’t want anyone. Above all I don’t want to walk away from tonight without telling you how I feel. What I feel is you, you make up my thoughts, I see you in my future. I’d do anything to prove that love I have for you. Even if it means allowing you to walk away tonight. Because you’re the most important thing to happen to me in a long time. The last thing I’d want to do is hurt you or make you choose something you aren’t ready for. I’m here for you even if you walk away, I’ll always come to you if you need me.”

His eyes are a little teary as he cups your hand with both of his hands and kisses it.

“You don’t have to make up your mind right n-” He’s cut off by you.

You interrupt him as you lean closer to the table with a shaky breath.“I don’t want to live a life I regret. Especially regretting someone that I could have a life with but chose not to out of fear or for someone else's feelings. I don’t know where life is supposed to lead me but I know I want it with you. Most people follow through with decisions based on what’s most logical but I choose my heart. And my heart wants you.”

He leans over the table as you meet him halfway to kiss him. Letting his lips envelope yours, soft and plump like you imagined. It’s sweet and gentle like him. You pull away from the short kiss wishing it lasted longer but you’re also in public.

“So you for sure don’t want to go home?” He asks one more time knowing your answer.

“Not unless it’s with you.”

No words are exchanged as you’re sitting on the edge of the bed, one of your legs is on his shoulder as he takes off your shoe. As he unties the last heel he kisses from your ankle to your thigh. Moving upwards to the wetness between your thighs. You lay back on the bed allowing for more access. He kneels on the floor, grabbing your ass and pulling it closer to him for better positioning. Your dress is pushed up, bunched around your waist as he pulls your panties off. He throws them to the side discarding them. You feel his breath on your pussy for a second before he kisses it. He gives the mound and lips little kisses teasing you as you wait for him to give you more. Shivers run down your spine as you feel his tongue on your slit. He flattens it to cover the whole area, licking a few times. Savoring the taste of you. He takes your swollen clit into his mouth to gently suck on. You can feel your clit pulsate as his tongue teases the little nub. Flicking it and rubbing it in a circle with his tongue. Causing your hands to find his hair as you grip it and grind against his face. His hand reaches between your thighs as he rubs the soft skin gently before he runs two fingers over your wet pussy. A moan escapes your mouth as you feel his hand on your wet cunt. Once his fingers are wet, he uses one finger to open you up. Allowing you to get used to the feeling before he adds another. Another finger joins the first stretching you. It gives you some relief as you rock yourself on his fingers a little as he begins to lap at your clit. Tonguing the nerve as he finger fucks your small hole.

“Your fingers feel so good.” You moan gripping his hair.

He removes his face from your pussy, “you taste amazing. Just as I thought” He gets back to his feet to lean over you as he begins to furiously fuck you on his fingers. You’re cursing at him as he continues, loving the sounds you’re making and faces you make when you’re being pleasured. You place your fingers on your clit as you feel yourself getting close. Rubbing circles and other motions to aid in relief. You’re begging him at this point whimpering knowing how close you are. He adds one more finger stretching you beyond belief knowing that you can take it

“You’re taking my fingers so well I can’t imagine how good it’ll feel on my dick.” . He says as he guides you while you’re cumming. Letting you know how good you are and how pretty you are.

He waits a few more seconds before he pulls out his fingers leaving you empty. He gets off the bed to take off the rest of his clothes, swiftly undoing his buckle and pants to reveal a very prominent hard-on. You move closer to the headboard to get more comfortable as you wait for his return.

“I don’t have a condom. I wasn’t planning on having sex.” He’s on the bed again rubbing his cock trying to relieve the pressure.

“I don’t care, I just want you inside me.” Your voice is needy as he grins before he’s quickly in between your legs again.

He rubs his cock up and down your slit. Letting the juices coat the tip. He teases the clit for a second until you whine wanting him inside you. He lines his cock up at your entrance with one hand letting the tip slowly enter. He looks at you, watching your face to make sure he’s not hurting you. You gasp as he slides in, his length completely filling you up.

“You doing okay?” You nod as he waits for a second before moving.

His thrusts are gentle to not hurt your cervix. He knows his size is above average and easy to bruise if too rough. He leans down to kiss you, one hand on your hip, the other on your face. His kiss is hungry and rough compared to his thrusts.

“I’ve been waiting for this. Dreaming about this.” He says moaning into your mouth.

“I know, I’ve cum to you so many times.” You confess.

“I can’t count the times you’ve made me hard by just being next to you.” His pace quickens up which makes you grip his biceps.

“Fuck.” You draw out the word as he continues pounding.

He grabs your legs, bending your knees to your chest. This position leaves you completely folded, breathless, with how deep he is.

‘Fuck you’re so big Bucky.” You say throwing your head back.

“Maybe your cunt is just too tiny then. Maybe I just need to keep stretching you out then so you don’t forget who you belong to.” He leans his head down to watch his cock retreat in and out of your hole. Mesmerized by the wetness glistening on his cock.

He bites his lip as he slowly pulls out almost all the way, just to thrust back in. He loves watching your face as he’s inside you. Your little sounds and whimpers almost send him over the edge entirely with how sweet you are. You move your hips against his cock, meeting his thrusts. You’re so wet you can’t even tell if you’ve already cum or not. Sweat is building up on his forehead as you watch him pound into you. You know he’s close by the erratic thrusts.

“Where can I cum?” He asks, needing an answer quickly or else he’s about to make you a milf.

“Inside me. I’m on birth control.” He moans leaning down to kiss you as his thrusts speed up and his body shakes. Your walls grip him tightly as he spills his seed inside of you. Filling your cunt until it’s dripping.

Once he’s finished he gets a warm rag to clean you up. Letting the warmness soothe your now aching core.

“I love you” Bucky says as he doesn’t care to look for a ‘right time’ anymore.

“I love you too.” You really do.

#bucky barnes x you #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky fanfic #bucky x you #bucky x y/n #draftsandrecs #bucky smut #bucky barnes fanfiction

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drvirgus · 4 months

Text

Behind bars

Non Idol! Minji X Convicted! Reader

Description: Coming out of Jail is never easy. Y/n even would say its harder then even getting into Jail. What happens when she lives with a Person that absolutely hates Criminals? What even got her into Jail? and what happens if she starts to like the person that hates her?

Chapter: getting a new Phone

Masterlist

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"You need a phone," Hyein immediately said, holding the burger in her hands. Almost immediately, Hanni nodded and pointed first to Hyein and then to me. "Yes, definitely create a Twitter account," Hanni said. "And let me know right away. I want to add you," the younger one added, making me chuckle.

"God, you're so delulu, Hanni," Danielle said, laughing slightly as she grabbed some fries. My forehead furrowed almost instantly. "Delulu?" I asked, which made most of them laugh. "Oh right, we need to get you up to speed with the current times," Danielle said, smiling.

I just smiled in confusion, barely touching my burger, which was still wrapped. I mostly snacked on the fries. Haerin glanced at my untouched burgers and then at me. "You're overwhelming her. Relax, people," Haerin said calmly as she took a bite of her burger.

"I want more," Hyein murmured, catching my attention. I immediately pushed my burger towards her, and she looked at me wide-eyed. "But Unnie," she whispered. I just shook my head with a smile. "I'm full. Go ahead," I said, pointing at the burger.

Some things never change... Hyein always ate a lot.

The thought made me smile. I watched Hyein take the burger in her hand and bite into it with relish. "You barely ate anything," I heard Hanni say, sounding concerned. I smiled immediately. "It's okay," I replied, but the others looked at each other with concern.

"Don't worry about the money. Eat," Minji said for the first time, her eyes seemingly uninterested as she popped a fry into her mouth. Hyein nodded immediately. "Oh yes, they're wealthy," Hyein said with a mouthful. I looked at each of them in astonishment.

How did I not notice this?

Haerin wore a Dior necklace. Hanni had a Gucci hat. Minji was draped in a Chanel coat. Danielle sported something from Burberry, and even Hyein seemed to be wearing Louis Vuitton clothing...

"Oh," I murmured softly. Almost instinctively, my eyes drifted to my own attire. I was still wearing the inmate's sweater, the inmate's cap, and the black inmate pants. After all, I had outgrown the clothes I was arrested in. I had no other choice...

Haerin seemed to notice my gaze. "We should buy you a phone first and then drive you home," the younger one suggested, to which I immediately nodded, a smile forming on my face. "Mom gave me money to get you the latest phone. What do you want?" Minji asked, raising an eyebrow curiously.

"Well... I had an iPhone 6 back then. Do they still make iPhones?" I replied, causing the others to look at me with wide eyes. Hyein laughed at their reactions. Even Minji seemed surprised. "Then we'll get you an iPhone 15," Hyein declared, which made me choke a bit. "15?" I echoed, my eyes scanning the array of smartphones on the table.

"Are these phones? You'd need a separate purse just for that," I exclaimed, eyes wide in astonishment. Hanni laughed, lifting her phone. "Here, feel how heavy it is," the younger one said, handing me her smartphone. I stared at it with wide eyes. "How do you turn it on? Where's the button?" I asked, examining the right side of the phone.

Hanni chuckled and leaned closer to me. "Here," she said, pointing it out. "But you can also just tap the screen or tilt the phone," the younger one said with a smirk, showing me the basics of the smartphone. I handed the phone back to her carefully; despite its weight, it looked fragile.

"Come on, everyone. I want to see what phone Y/n chooses," Danielle exclaimed excitedly, standing up and grabbing her jacket. My eyes then shifted to Hanni next to me, and we exchanged friendly smiles. I stood up too, looking at Hyein. "You have a lot to explain to me. I can barely remember anything about smartphones," I said with a light chuckle, which made Hyein laugh along.

But it hurt... knowing how much I missed...

Yet, I didn't regret my decision...

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Can I help you?"

Startled, I flinched and immediately turned away from the smartphones. I recognized a tall man in a blue uniform, likely an employee of the store. Feeling overwhelmed, I opened my mouth, my hands involuntarily clenching as I nervously fiddled with my fingers. "Well," I began, scanning the area.

Everyone seemed to have vanished. Only Minji was nearby, occasionally looking up from her phone to glance at me. A slight smirk played on her lips as she observed the predicament I was in. She even tucked her phone into her purse and crossed her arms in front of her chest.

My eyes returned to the employee. "No, I'm fine," I replied. "I'm just looking around," I added, gesturing to the smartphones displayed on the table for customers to examine. The employee smiled but persisted, "I can assist you. Which model are you interested in?"

I noticed him picking up one of the smartphones from the display and began discussing its features with me. Unfortunately for him, I didn't understand a word, and he was merely wasting his breath. I glanced pleadingly at Minji, but she continued to watch the situation unfold.

I had already sensed that Minji didn't trust me at all. She seemed to genuinely dislike me...

"Oh, there you are," I heard someone say, and I immediately turned my head to Hanni. The women of the same height approached with a smile. She briefly looked at the employee and said, "We've already decided, thank you." After having to repeat herself once more, the salesman finally left us alone.

Hanni gestured with her thumb towards the salesman behind her. "Quite persistent, isn't he?" she asked, chuckling slightly, which made me smirk. "Thanks. He really wouldn't let up," I replied, feeling a bit embarrassed. "You need to be a bit more assertive," the younger one said, smilingly, her eyes focused directly on my face.

I nodded. "That makes sense," I replied, chuckling a bit. However, I stopped laughing when I felt her hand on my arm. I blinked in surprise but let it slide this time. After all, she was just trying to be kind.

"But I have truly decided," I said, turning to the smartphones. I pointed to one of them. "So, an iPhone, huh?" Hanni asked, visibly amused, watching as I nodded. I tried to remove the cable from the phone, but Hanni stopped me with a laugh.

"They're protected. We need to take a packaged one," she explained, causing me to open my mouth in realization. "Oh."

Hanni gestured for me to follow her, which I did. From a distance, I saw Haerin playing some kind of Nintendo game, which was quite large and had one side red and the other blue. If I remember correctly, it was called the Nintendo Switch... It was still relatively new back then...

Danielle and Hyein seemed to be testing out the latest headphones. Minji remained silent behind Hanni and me. As always, she watched me like a hawk. She didn't utter a single word, but her presence was palpable.

#newjeans minji #newjeans #danielle #haerin #newjeans hanni #newjeans hyein #hanni pham #minji x reader #wonyoung #itzy ryujin #shin ryujin #jang wonyoung

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whatifyoulivelikethat · 1 year

Text

pictures of you, m | myg

pairing(s): yoongi x reader; mentions of jungkook x reader

summary: You like taking photos of your boyfriend, Min Yoongi. Just for you. Although you've tried, and will continue to try, to convince Yoongi to to make porn. Why? Because he's sexy, that's why.

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; established relationship (yg/you); mentions of sex work - yes, technically Yoongi has been in the photos with his face hidden but we'd like to see more; light smut (fem reader, intense making out, fingering, heavy petting, slight D/s themes); fluff tbh; non-idol!AU - (secret) sex worker!reader x music producer!Yoongi, mentions of video editor / photographer!Jungkook

part of _thehornedsin au, but can be read alone

“What are you doing?”

“I just want to take pictures of you.”

“Usually, people don’t wear Louis Vuittons and a gown to take photos of other people.”

You carefully placed one of said black heels on his chest and brought the camera to your eye, feeling and seeing a pair of hands reach up to encircle your ankle. Deft fingers fanning out to crown your step with his touch. Through the lens, you could see the open black dress shirt. Prominent collarbones, silver necklace tangled around that slim neck. Gleaming porcelain skin and parted lips. Hazy, half-lidded, dark brown eyes under smoked liner.

Min Yoongi’s long hair was messy, black, and sprawled out over the white backdrop.

You took a photo.

The side of his pink lips quirked upwards.

You make the move to remove your foot but Yoongi spread his hands over the patent leather, gripping tightly. You had only put a little pressure on the ball of your foot, but most of your weight was on your other leg standing beside his body.

You cocked an eyebrow at him, lowering the camera.

He matched your nonchalant, almost-bored expression with his own eyebrow tick.

Neither of you said anything.

You pressed the sharp heel into his skin just a little. Giving him the hint. The half-smile grew wider. A sensual sigh leaving those sinful lips. You felt him shift, his back arching a little, and the tip of the stiletto dug in deeper, indenting inward right below his ribs.

You raised the camera again and took another photo.

Looked down at it, admiring your boyfriend in the preview screen. One of his hands was further up your calf, the other along your heel, as if he was making the photographer step on him. Black satin from the sides of your gown draped along the edges of the shot, casting shadows along the bottom half. The silk dress shirt had fallen more open, pooling by his sides. Black strands draped over his forehead, highlighting his closed eyes and the masochistic gratification gently spread over his features.

You felt your inhale still in your throat.

“Yoongi, I think you should make porn.”

He smirked below you.

“No.”

You sighed in faux disappointment. After all, you got to keep the photos.

“Let me take a photo of you.”

You chuckled, removing your leg from his grasp. With force. “I haven’t put on any makeup.”

“You never need it.”

“You do with these lights. They wash you out.”

“Get down here.”

It was not that easy of a feat. Vuitton didn’t make shoes meant for immediate on-the-knees activities. The corseted, black satin gown was also a slight pain-in-the-ass, not to mention the heavy camera in your hands that wasn’t yours. Now that he was your photographer, Jeon Jungkook left a set of his work things in your home studio. Made life easier for him.

Sometimes, you borrowed it to photograph your boyfriend, Min Yoongi.

“This is better.”

Thanks to the high silt in the gown, Yoongi’s hands were on your ass and squeezing hard, long fingers digging into the softness as he bunched fabric up to your waist. Your knees on the ground. For someone who wished that he was horizontal for more than half of his life, Min Yoongi sure knew how to sit up quickly. He was pulling you to him and you were resisting, tilting the lens of the camera so the plastic hit his bare chest, keeping a measured distance between yourself and those playful dark eyes.

“At least let me put this down.”

His finger was toying with the side of your panties, slipping under and following the curve. He ticked his head. “Put it down then,” he echoed. Drew out the syllables in his deep, raspy voice.

You put down the camera beside you and him.

Careful with it.

It was a precious treasure, even more so considering the contents.

Yoongi shoved a finger into your pussy and placed his palm behind your head, pulling you into a kiss.

You wondered why he always said no. Other than being a famous music producer and all. Well, you knew that was the major reason that Yoongi would never join you in your erotic photography, but there was a difference between a I-would-but-I-can’t no and the no he gave you. The refusal Yoongi gave you was an anxious one and you wondered why that was because he was so, so sexual. On every level. From the way his long hair brushed against your cheeks, to the way he held your head, crowning his fingers around the base of your skull, to the slow slide of his finger in and out of you despite the layers of clothes, none of these obstacles bothering him, none of them obscuring the lust in every kiss, lips to lips, and you wondered why Yoongi thought he shouldn’t make porn.

Warm and wet dripping down.

He sighed into your mouth and slid in another finger, moaning into your throat.

Your fingers followed his cheekbone, his jaw, his soft skin under the pads of your touch, and you kissed him again, again, remembering that he didn’t like kissing when you first met him. He liked to fuck, of course, but he didn’t seek to kiss. Not because he didn’t want to kiss you, you learned, but because he did, and that was frightening to him, being addicted to a kiss.

All because it was from you.

“There is no one more beautiful,” Yoongi whispered, rough and breathless.

You ran your fingers through his soft locks with a contented sigh.

“I’m looking at him,” you murmured back.

His eyes darted away. A soft smile found its way to your lips. He was fully ruining your panties by shoving them to the side and firmly stuffing his fingers in all the way to his knuckles, repeatedly, sucking in a breath as he felt your pussy squeeze them, pulsing. You were more in his lap now, his erection against your thigh fighting for dear life in those loose black pants, but it was clear that he wanted this instead, your arms on his shoulders and his face in your hands, cradling the sides of his head with your fingers fanned out.

Like a blooming lotus flower.

Yoongi looked up at you again, pink lips parted.

You closed the distance, your hair falling over your shoulder, rolling your hips into his hand as you kissed him again.

I’m better with you.

I make porn. I’m not a good person by society’s standards.

Doesn’t matter, because I know that I am better with you.

Yoongi often told you his music was better now that you were his. It was experience too, but you understood what he meant, because your erotica was better ever since he became yours too. He wasn’t in the photos, but he was. In the way you posed, knowing all the angles he liked. In your selection of lingerie, keeping in mind the parts of your body he enjoyed most – all, duh – and in every photographed expression, sensual, seductive, unafraid. It didn’t matter if you were always blindfolded.

Your lips could tell a story.

He hit that depth and speed you liked.

You smiled against his lips, tangling your fingers in his hair.

Dark brown orbs watching you under lashes and you could feel the fierce love in them, unrelenting and unwavering, almost childish in stubbornness, and so what was there to fear when you had something so raw and so powerful standing beside you?

He made you even more confident in your sexual nature.

You licked his lower lip playfully.

Yoongi caught your tongue with his teeth and sucked on it, devious glint in the narrowing of his eyes.

Shallow breath, rising heat, push and pull, riding his hand as he fingered you, closer, closer, almost there and he shoved another finger in, making you gasp and cutting off the rise, the slight despair adding to the pleasure. The sound. Wet and lewd and hunger. Hard and fast and deep, so deliberate it was maddening. Shared gaze so intense it made your core clench and your pussy shiver. Soaked inner thighs, sweet heady scent of sex, so strong you could taste it even as Yoongi sucked on your tongue, still holding your head to him, your entire body shuddering.

He let go.

A hot exhale escaping from your lips, washing over his open mouth.

Stinging bliss, all over and pooling at the base of your hips, spilling, spilling in vicious throbs within your inner walls, clamping down on his long fingers buried deep inside, and your head tipped back, palms molded to his head, your taut fingers laced with black strands spread out, mirroring the shadow of a blooming lotus flower.

Yoongi smiled as he watched the lustful pleasure ripple over your face.

“I look ten times more stupid orgasming than you do,” he hummed.

You laughed, shaking your head, slowly rocking your hips to extend the feeling. “You do tend to bark out ‘fuck’ a lot more. It’s charming.”

“Mmm.” He slid his fingers out of you and raised his hand. Separated them, admiring the way your viscous juices clung and collected around his knuckles. “I think Jungkook could do porn.”

You calmly smiled as Yoongi licked his hand clean right in front of your face. “I doubt it. He’s impatient and needy.”

He cocked a shoulder. “He needs training.” Pink tongue curling around his knuckles.

“And the tattoos?”

Yoongi shrugged again. “Put a sleeve on that arm, tie him up, blindfold. No one’s gonna know.”

“He likes saying my name during sex a little too much,” you pointed out as Yoongi lowered his hand, then paused, seeing your fingertips resting on his bare chest. He reached over and wrapped his wet fingers around your hand, bringing it lower.

“Like I said, he needs training.”

“Your friend is naughty and unruly.”

Yoongi molded your palm to his covered, twitching erection, locking eyes with you. You were about to look down but his other hand came up and his knuckles rested on your chin, keeping you facing him as he rubbed your hand over his hard cock through his pants.

“I know, but he’s cute when he begs.”

You tightened your grip, pressing your entire hand against his length. His cock jerked in his pants, begging for more. His hand was still damp, but there was dampness under his pants too. Pre-cum soaking his boxer briefs. Yoongi was using that raspy Daegu satoori with you now. Hm. Sly. Knew exactly what he was doing. He was still massaging himself with your hand, undeterred by your interference.

Maybe even welcomed it.

“And you?” you breathed out in a smoky, dangerous whisper.

The side of his lips curved upwards.

The most devious smirk.

“Fuck me,” Yoongi whispered.

Soft and slow. Hot exhale, savoring the words, drawing it out. Dark eyes barely visible under lowered lashes and with a tone an octave away from desperate. Gripping your hand around his length, letting your feel the hardness and the pulsating twitch of dirty desire. And then he did the unthinkable.

He bit the right side of his lower lip and said it better.

“Fuck me, please.”

in case you want the visual

(this photo poster was sent in emails for winners of the Seoul tix raffle and, yes, I saw it and my imagination went places, what, he didn't do bite his lip to be innocent)

masterpost

#yoongi x reader #bts smut #yoongi smut #yoongi x you #min yoongi x reader #min yoongi x you #min yoongi smut

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