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silverstonesainz-archive · 1 year

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one night only

─── only three floors up, marks the end of a night he could only ever dream of

pairing: charles leclerc x fem!reader warnings: nsfw!!! minors dni!!! (includes f receiving fingering, m receiving oral, & p in v, unprotected) foul language, and mentions of cheating.

His mouth is watering. As ridiculous as it sounds, his mouth is watering. He stands at the other end of the red carpet, waiting for his cue to take his walk when he sees you walk by in a sleek black, floor length dress. The neckline is high, tying around your neck, but the back hangs dangerously low. He admires the soft skin of your back, the way he can see the dimples sitting at the bottom of your spine.

He’s never craved anything more in his life.

“Alright Charles, you’re all good to go.” The sweet lady smiles up at him, stepping back to give him room to walk across the carpet.

Charles mutters a thanks, nodding graciously before stepping out onto the carpet. After years of having phones and cameras shoved in his face, you would think he’d be used to the flashing and screams of him to look this way! He does his best, a tight lipped smile gracing his features as he tries to look at multiple cameras before walking further down the carpet. He tries to catch sight of you again, but instead he’s met with his first interviewer. The lady beams widely, introducing herself but Charles doesn’t hear her. He’s beginning to feel overwhelmed, the constant screaming and shouting for whoever else is walking down the carpet behind him. He tries to get through the interview, pulling out gracious answers about his team’s disaster season and his rise to and then unfortunate drop from the top.

“Max! Max! Over here!”

Charles is slightly distracted, turning his head ever so slightly to catch a glimpse of his friend and rival. But he has to do a double take when his green eyes catch a glimpse of a familiar sleek black dress. The reporter asks him another question, one he completely misses as he stares at you in awe. But what really gets to him is the way Max’s hand rests on the skin of your back, holding you flush against him.

“Charles?”

The lady next to him taps his shoulder, forcing Charles to tear his eyes off your figure. He can feel his face heat up, letting out a nervous chuckle. “Scusate! Potrebbe ripetere, per favore?” Sorry! Could you repeat that please?

He does his best to get through the rest of his walk, taking more photos and answering more questions until he finally gets to the entrance of the gala. He finds his table, sitting down and immediately going on his phone. It isn’t long until the event begins and introductions are made. Most of the event is a blur, Charles drowning his sorrows in flutes of champagne and overcooked steak.

He barely registers his name being announced, a proud call to his achievement of Vice Champion. The Monegasque smiles curtly at his peers, mouths thanks to those who clap for him. And as he steps up on the stage to accept his trophy, his eyes scan the crowd. He knows exactly what– or rather, who– he is looking for. And in the sea of wide eyes, he was looking for one pair in particular. And then he spots you. Charles shouldn’t be surprised that you were looking at him, everyone is looking at him. He should be used to hundreds of eyes on him, hell he should be used to millions. But your eyes are the only pair that light his every nerve ending ablaze. You’re leaning forward, elbows on the table as your cheek rests in your right hand. Your eyes are wide, stuck to him under the bright lights that illuminate the stage. His suit suddenly feels too tight, the spotlight overheating him. He might pass out.

But he doesn’t let it show. The media training from years of being in front of the camera takes over, ready made responses roll off his tongue. He says his thanks to his team, to the people in the factory, to Mattia, to his family and to all the people who helped him along the way. He wonders if you know he meant you. From the way you shift in your seat, he would guess yes. He wants to smile at you, to acknowledge you in some way if not with words, but then he sees Max lean in and whisper something in your ear. His stomach turns at how quickly you look away from him, how you lean into the man’s touch. He forces himself to look away, to avert his gaze towards his brother who just smiles up at him, unknowing of the younger Leclerc’s turmoil.

The applause grows in volumes, cueing him to wave and walk back to his seat. As he lowers himself into his chair, his hand loosens the tie around his neck. Several people at the table congratulate him personally with kind smiles and gentle pats. He thanks them all before reaching for the glass of water and drinking all that’s left in it.

“Est-ce que ça va?” Are you okay?

Charles nods at his older brother, setting the glass. “Oui. Juste au chaud..." Yes, just warm…

The night drags along for Charles. More awards, more applause, more champagne. By the end of the night, he was a little more intoxicated than he should be at a work function. He clutches onto the trophy, his trophy, as he exits the ballroom, listening to the people directing him to his next photo-op. The champagne is swirling in his head, making the floor beneath him tilt left to right ever so slightly. For a man whose career depends on accuracy and balance, he was lacking some in that very moment. Charles is greeted by even more people, more champions and winners alike, all with their own trophies cradled in their arms.

“Charles, if we could have you stand next to Max please.” A man rests his hand on Charles’s shoulder, his other arm extended to point to the spot next to his fellow driver.

Charles makes eye contact with Max, and both drivers exchange awkward, closed mouth smiles. The Monegasque driver walks over, planting himself close enough to his friend for their shoulders to be touching. His grip on his trophy tightens, worried he may make a fool of himself and drop it. His knees lock, and he stumbles a bit in his place, effectively bumping into Max. The Dutch boy chuckles softly, eyes crinkling as he watches Charles regain his balance.

“Too much champagne, no?”

Charles’s cheeks tinge red as he nods, “Way too much mate.”

The two drivers laugh, and the press has a field day. Shutters and flashes go off, trying to capture the moment of camaraderie between the rivals. The not-so-rare moments of laughter and conversation between the two of them are a must see shot, and Charles is sure they’d be plastered on every newspaper, blog, and instagram by the time he wakes the next morning.

They take a couple more pictures, more posed than the last, and a couple of shots where both men hold their trophy high and proud. Then they walk off, as if the moment never happened. Max bids him adieu, a happy holiday season, and Charles does the same before being led to the next photo-op or interview, whichever was left on his agenda for the night.

But then he spots you again, waiting patiently behind all the cameras for Max. He can’t help the jealousy bubbling in him at the way you smile at his rival, how soft your eyes are for him. He watches the way your hand finds Max’s arm, the way it slips down the black sleeve of his jacket, fingers finding refuge between his. His dinner begins to climb up his throat, and he forces it back down with a thick swallow. And for the briefest of moments, he sees your eyes flicker from Max to him. Charles watches for your reaction, but you don’t give him the satisfaction. Instead you return your gaze to the man in front of you, a small smile and subtle nod like you’ve been listening to him the entire time.

The night ends much later than Charles would have preferred. He was finally allowed to leave after the third photo-op with his Vice Champion Trophy. He’s sick of the flashes, of the shutters, of all the congratulations and hopeful stares. He didn’t want to spend another moment in that room, with the constant reminder that he was second best at something he poured his heart and soul into. He couldn’t handle it.

Lorenzo drops his younger brother home, but not without another round of congratulations. "Félicitations Charles. Nous sommes si fiers, papa est si fier.” Congratulations Charles. We are so proud, papa is so proud.

Charles walks up to his front door with his head hanging low, remnants of his one too many glasses of champagne weighing him down. He fumbles with his keys, forcing it into the knob as he quickly unlocks his door and shoves it open. With a huff, he drops all his belongings on the side table in the foyer, the silver trophy included. He’d deal with it in the morning.

He undoes his tie, unbuttons his shirt, and shrugs off his Ferrari jacket. It isn’t long until he’s left in his briefs, falling onto his plush couch and flicking on the TV to fill his empty Monaco apartment. The pad of his thumb presses the plus on the remote, moving through Monaco’s late night TV. He lands on a dubbed version of Friends, lowering the volume level until he can barely hear Joey and Chandler’s voices. He lays back against a throw pillow, letting the hum of the television lull him to sleep.

Dreams don’t happen very often for Charles. Between jet lag, the limited hours of sleep, and his mind filled with the car, the care and nothing but the car, there wasn’t much left in him to dream of anything else. Tonight would be the first time in a long time, with the help of Brut, does he finally dream of something worth remembering. But it comes in flashes, flickering so fast he can barely keep up with the changing scenes. It’s bright eyes that stare up at him through thick lashes. Flushed, clammy cheeks that have strands of hair sticking to them. Pink, swollen lips, wet with spit. Pink swollen lips, wrapped around him.

The knock on his front door pulls him from his dream. Charles groans softly, shifting on the plush couch as he chases a flicker of his imagination. He hoped that the knocking would go away, that he’d return to a fantasy that only lives in his mind. But the knocking returns, louder against the hardwood of his front door. It’s still dark out. He couldn’t have been asleep for longer than an hour. When Charles looks at his phone, it reads 1:03 AM, and he groans. His dick is painfully hard, aching over the dream he just had. Charles pries his eyes open, looking down at his black briefs, the bulge of his hard cock more prominent than he expected.

The person on the other side of his door knocks a third time, this time louder and much more desperate. He mutters tired, French nonsense as he drags himself to the front door in his underwear and socks. He doesn’t even bother to check who’s even knocking, his hazy mind assuming it’s his younger brother in drunken stupor, or better yet a fellow driver in need of something. He makes half an effort to adjust himself, not in the mood to give whoever was at his front door a free show– or an explanation as to why he was hard at one in the morning, all by his lonesome.

The last thing he expects to see is you, still in the same sleek black gown and mascara smudged on your waterline and pink cheeks. Flushed, clammy cheeks that have strands of hair sticking to them. He’s awake now, wide awake.

“Can I come in?”

How could he deny you? So of course, he steps aside and allows you to step into his home. He shuts the door behind him, leaning against the hardwood as he watches you move about his space. With your back to him, he adjusts himself again, suddenly very self conscious about his state. But you don’t seem to notice, setting your purse down next to his pile of belongings on the entryway table. You don’t even acknowledge the obnoxious silver trophy sitting right there, walking right past it to fall onto the couch.

Charles grabs a worn jumper and puma athletic shorts that rests on a chair, slipping it over his body. When he looks over at you, your head is in your hands and your shoulders shaking up and down. He frowns, listening to your quiet cries, unsure of what he can do to make everything better. He figures he could start with a glass of water. You hear him move behind you, the clinking of dishes and gentle thuds of cabinets closing. You hear the water running, and then the soft pit pat of Charles’s feet as he makes his way over to you.

He kneels in front of you, glass of water in hand. You finally look up from your hands, and Charles offers you a reassuring smile. He offers you the glass, and you take it from his grasp. Charles moves to sit next to you, leaving a couple of inches between the two of you. He watches you as you gulp down the water, watching it move down your throat like it was the first time you had drunken water in days. You set the glass down on the coffee table, eyes flickering up to the TV.

“You were watching Friends?”

Charles’s gaze shifts to the TV, watching as Rachel talks with Ross. The volume isn’t loud enough for him to understand what they’re talking about, but he’s seen this episode before. “Mmm, yeah. Needed some background noise so it wouldn’t be so quiet.”

You nod, looking at the expanse of his home. It’s messy, with clothes strewn everywhere and miscellaneous items placed in places they don’t belong. The biggest shock is that there aren’t any dirty dishes lying around, but you could chuck that up to the fact he probably doesn’t eat at home very often.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” He asks you.

You shake your head, “I just want to go to sleep Charles, and forget that tonight ever happened.”

He doesn’t push any further, even if he is curious over your current state. He wants to know what made you cry, why your first instinct is to come to his apartment in the early hours of the morning, that you knew you could find refuge with him. Maybe it was for an ego boost, or yet again another thing for him to use to justify why he keeps letting you into his life.

He leads you into his room. His room is probably the tidiest place in the whole apartment, it almost looks untouched. You watch as he pulls out drawers and cabinet doors, handing you a shirt of his and a pair of boxers. When you retreat to the bathroom, Charles pulls back the covers, spraying a bit of the room spray his mom got him to get rid of the mothy smell. He hadn’t slept in his own bed in months, it almost felt wrong to be standing in his room at that moment. He’d spent the better part of the year on the road, and even while on breaks he found it hard to sleep in the quiet of his own apartment.

You come out of the bathroom not too long later, rubbing your eyes as you make your way over to bed and climbing in. Charles stands awkwardly, watching as you pull the covers over your body. He watches as you fluff the pillows, shifting them around to create more space.

“Are you going to join me?”

Charles can’t help the knowing smile that graces his lips, shaking his head subtly. “I really shouldn’t…”

“Please? It’s not like we haven’t before…”

A point was made. But there weren’t any boundaries before. Nothing was holding him back before, but now… now there's far too much. He should’ve shook his head, said good night, and returned to his place on the couch, letting Friends put him back to sleep.

But you sit in his bed, wearing his clothes, staring at him with a stare he can’t ever say no too. So with a sigh, he moves to the space you’ve left for him in the bed, laying under the covers as you cozy up to his side like you’ve done in the past. Your fingers lay on his sweater clad chest, pressing the fuzzy lining against his burning skin. Your face is nuzzled into his neck, warm body so dangerously close to him. It’s sickening, how right it all feels.

“Why are you so stiff?”

Was he? He didn’t notice. Charles puffs out a breath through pursed lips, a dry chuckle rumbling from his throat. You pull your head from the crook of his neck to look up at him. He feels your gaze, but he refuses to give into the urge to turn and look right back at you. But he sees your wide eyes, the questioning in your gaze as you patiently wait for an explanation.

“I dunno.” He finally says. “I didn’t even realize.”

You lift your head, perching it in the palm of your hand with your elbow digging into the pillow next to him. Now he can see you, see the way your brows are furrowed almost playfully, as if you aren’t convinced of his answer. Charles turns his head slightly, just enough that you could see all of him under the blue light of the moon peeking through his windows. He offers you a small smile, a soft whisper of hello, one you return with the same soft hi.

“I’ve missed you,” You confess.

It should’ve made him angry. The revelation should’ve reminded him of the reality of you and him. It should’ve been a swift slap to the face, a reminder of why you miss him when he’s been available to you all this time. You chose to stray far, to find happiness elsewhere. But instead it clouds his vision. Pulls him further and further to a reality that was only meant to live in his head– in the daydreams he kept in idle time. He reaches up towards you. He shouldn’t have. His fingers brush the hair back behind your ear– it burns him. Charles feels himself lean into you as your other hand comes up to comb themselves through his hair, pushing it back while your nails gently scratch his scalp. Your hand comes down from the top of his head, sliding effortlessly along his skin, cupping his cheek like it’s the most natural thing in the world. He hums softly, another sweet smile on his lips as he lets his head fall into your hold.

“You miss me?”

“You know I do.”

You lay like that for what feels like eternity. A blissful eternity.

Charles’s index finger traces from the top of your temple, along the outline of your face. It’s slow, soft, damn right sensual the way he traces every dip and curve. You feel his calloused skin along your jaw, down the length of your throat. You gulp. He smirks.

“I like when you do that.” You whisper.

He hums softly, index finger tracing back up your throat. His name tumbles from your lips, breathy and nervous. He chuckles. You almost hate him for it.

Charles drops his hand after he traces your shoulder. You let out a breath and he laughs softly. “You should go to bed.”

“I’m not tired.”

You fully sit up now, relieving your arm from carrying the weight of your head. Charles doesn’t move, he just watches as you fiddle in your spot until you decide you’re comfortable. He turns his head to the table by his bed, bright red numbers reading 1:56 AM. When he returns his gaze on you, he catches you tying up your hair, arms stretched over your head as you pull the length of your locks through the white scrunchie. His shirt rides up your body slightly, just enough to catch the black lace of your panties hugging the flesh of your hips.

His mind is hazy as flickers of his dream begin to replay in his mind. His cock twitches in his briefs, he shifts uncomfortable under the covers. You don’t notice, instead laying back down by him in the same position you once were: head in the crook of his neck and hand splayed over his chest. He wonders if you feel the rapid thump of his heart, the way it shakes his ribcage.

You do. “Your heart is beating so fast.”

He has no response. And with the lack of one, your fingers leave his chest and find themselves under his sweatshirt. Charles gasps at the cool pad of your fingers dancing along the muscles over his abdomen and up to the skin of his left peck. If his heart wasn’t ready to jump out of his chest into your hands then, it surely is now. For the second time tonight, you lift your head to look down at him. He turns his head this time, tips of your noses brushing when he does so. Charles rests his hand over yours, the soft material of the jumper the only barrier between his skin and yours.

He answers the question you ask with your eyes, the why clearly expressed in them. “This is what you do to me.” You bite down on your bottom lip, breath hitched in the back of your throat. His heart doesn’t cease, it doesn’t find its normal rhythm the longer you hold it. It beats excitedly for you. “Whenever you look at me, touch me, god you could simply enter a room and my heart is in a frenzy.”

“Charles…” You are breathless again. Nothing else follows his name, not when he slowly sits up and you are forced to back up and fall onto your back. His hand is back on your face, the joint of his index finger trailing down the side of your face. The tip of your nose tickles his, a taunt at just how close his lips are to yours.

His head inches forward, but backs up in the same beat. What is he doing? You are no longer his to ruin, no longer his to make you tremble the way he is now. He feels how your body goes rigid in anticipation, waiting to see how he will touch you and how you will melt into him. He watches the way your eyes scan his face, micromovements from left to right as you count the seconds until he moves. You are a vision, laid out before him, a perfectly painted picture that he thought he’d only ever see in his dreams.

Charles is a selfish man, he finds out. Selfish when it comes to you, selfish when it comes to consuming you. And maybe it’s his rival, your boyfriend, just three floors up probably wondering where you’d gone that gets him off. The way you don’t push him off when his nose bumps yours, or the breath that shakes your chest when he inches his head forward again. It’s the way you welcome him dangerously close, that convinces him that what is bound to happen, is okay. He smirks, the corner of his lip curled upwards at the thought. Max might’ve won the championship, but you’re here in his bed, waiting for him to make a move.

“Pourquoi es-tu ici, belle?” Why are you here, beautiful? He whispers, the ghost of his lips on yours, “Hm?” He pulls away again, fingers coming up to tuck your hair behind your ear again. “pourquoi es-tu dans mon lit?” why are you in my bed?

Words have yet to leave you, to tumble past your lips to tell him to stop. Your hands had ample time to push him off, to say goodnight and find your rest from the long night behind you. But the scent of Charles at two in the morning, the smell of minty mouthwash while he speaks to you, the pads of your fingers touching you so tenderly is all but a ruse to convince you not to stop what is surely about to unravel. You feel the torch being lit in your gut, the way your cunt aches for him.

And you are no better than to deny yourself of getting your fill of Charles.

You meet him halfway, much to the Monegasque’s surprise. Your lips mold into his, and Charles is quick to reciprocate the movements, his hand coming up to the back of your head to pull you even closer to him. The kiss is sloppy, a mess of teeth and spit as you pull onto each other in desperation. Charles shifts his body over yours, cock growing hard at the way your legs fall open and make room for his body.

No time is wasted as he grounds his hips against yours, hard member rubbing against your clothed center. You sigh into his mouth, fingers clawing and gripping at his brown locks in your tightly wound fists. He rocks you back and forth as he pressed himself against you. Soft grunts and groans bubble from Charles, vibrating against your lips before he pulls away and leaves wet, open mouthed kisses along your neck. You release his hair, fingers gripping the back of his sweatshirt and pulling it up and over his head. Charles kneels between your legs, finishing the job for you as he slides the sleeves off his arms and the neckline over his head before tossing it on the floor somewhere in the room.

His chest heaves as he stares down at you, links pink and plump, wet with you. You blush, fingertips reaching up to lay flat against his toned abdomen, sliding your hand down towards the hem of his shorts. Charles doesn’t move a muscle, allowing you to pull on the waistband of the team provided shorts, snapping against his skin. He scowls playfully, right hand dipping under his shirt on your body, laying flat against the top of your underwear.

“Je peux jouer aussi, amour.” I can play too, love.

You try to buck your hips up, encourage the boy above you to touch you where you’ve dreamt of him touching you. But he presses down on you firmly, restricting you from moving all too much. You whine softly, and he smiles. Charles leans down to find your lips with his, kissing you so hard you feel your head spin. Both your hands come up to cup his cheeks, to keep him from leaving you again.

The joys of a Formula One driver, you realize, is how great they are at multitasking. They’re quick on their feet, able to focus their mind on one thing while their body acts on a different task. Charles is the greatest testament to this, with how quickly he pulls off his shorts while his lips remain attached to yours. His fingers tug on your underwear, pulling it down your legs to give his middle finger the room to slide against you. He feels your body relax under him, how you melt into his hold, lips lazily keeping up with him as he kisses you. His middle finger moves up and down, up and down, collecting your arousal before pushing it into you. You moan his name at the feeling of his finger stretching you out ever so slightly, the way he curls it to tickle your g-spot before pulling it out.

Charles pulls away from the kiss, eyes casted downwards as he watches the way his middle and now ring finger dance along your pussy. Up and down, clit snug between the pad of his fingers as he presses down lightly. You shudder, a soft grunt coming from you when he does so. He smiles, sliding his fingers down towards your entrance, eyes back on yours as he pushes his digits into you. A fire is lit in his stomach at the way your brows furrowed, the soft whines the push past your lips. You don’t see the way he smiles, not with your eyes squeezed shut as he fucks his fingers into you.

You aren’t sure how long you’d last with the way he pumps his fingers in and out, over and over. The fuse has been lit, you feel yourself inching closer to the edge. But you know Charles just as much as he knows you. You predict the exact second he’d pull his fingers out of you, the sigh that leaves your lips when he does, and your orgasm deflating inside you. What you count on is his husky voice commanding you to open your mouth. To that your eyes fly open, staring up at him curiously, only to be met with dark eyes and his tongue darting out to lick his lips.

“Open your mouth, belle.” He says again.

You do so, with much hesitation. Pink lips part, and Charles can’t help but picture the way they’d look wrapped around his cock. The way he’d fit perfectly in your throat like he does in your pussy. He aches. Your lips are parted, tongue partially out, and he rests the fingers the were once inside you on it.

“Sucer.”

Your pupils are blown, no more second guessing as your lips clamp around his digits and you begin to suck off your own arousal. You stare up at him with lust-glazed eyes, bobbing your head up and down on his fingers.

“You like the taste of yourself, belle?” He taunts, “The taste of what I’ve done to you.” You moan softly, nodding on his fingers. “I wanna feel that mouth elsewhere.”

He pries his fingers from your mouth, allowing you to push him off and onto his back. It is your turn to find your place between his legs, fingers quick to grasp onto the waistband of his black briefs and pulling them down his legs. His cock springs up, smacking against his belly, veiny and angry, already leaking with precum. Charles rests himself on the headboard, hands behind his head as he awaits your mouth.

You were never as teasing as Charles is, never one to play games in the heat of the moment. You played on your desperation, played on your cock-starved self as you pumped your right hand on the hardened shaft of his dick, pursed lips pressing a kiss to its head. You kiss your way down his length, and it’s when you’re at the base of his dick do you finally lay your soft tongue flat against him and lick upwards. He groans softly, watching as you lick up and taking him into your mouth all in one swift, fluid movement. The sight proves to be better than what any dream could ever make up. Your eyes are brighter than he’d ever imagine, filled with lust as they stare up at him through thick lashes. Flushed, clammy cheeks have strands of hair sticking to them. Pink, swollen lips, wet with spit. Pink swollen lips, wrapped around him.

He savors the feeling of the warmth of your mouth around his length, the way your head bobs up and down, and the soft gagging each time he hits the back of your throat. You stroke his ego with the sloppy sounds, the way you try to suck him off all while simultaneously trying to swallow the excess spit the drips from your mouth. Charles’s left hand comes to hold your hair in his fist, his right cupping your jaw as his thumb begins to rub circles on the hinge of your jaw.

“You’re so pretty like this baby, choking on my cock,” He hums, tilting his head to get a better view of your tear stained cheeks. “You’re so good to me.”

You hum around him, throat relaxed as you take as much of him as you can. Charles throws his head back in ecstasy, the head of his dick squeezed tightly at the top of your throat. He could’ve came right there, spurting his seed for you to swallow. But he stops himself, yanking the ponytail in his fist. You gasp for air, looking up at him with wide eyes and drool sliding down your chin. Charles’s cock twitches. If he could’ve taken a picture, he would’ve.

Instead, he guides your head up to him, thumb pressing down on your bottom lip to swipe away the excess spit from the blowjob you had just given him. Then he presses a kiss on your lips swiftly, hands moving to grab your hips and pull your core over him. You allow yourself to sit on him, slick cunt sliding along the length of Charles’s dick. He hisses against your mouth, lips forced from yours as he looks down at the way you rock your hips against him.

Your hands cup either side of his jaw, forcing his gaze to return to you. And when his green eyes bore into yours, your hips stop moving. Charles’s grip on your hips loosen, but they still hold you with such force, warmth from his palms penetrating your skin. Both your chests are heaving, gasping for air as you try to come down from the intense moments shared not too long ago. His eyes study your face, pick at every mole and every scar, every little detail he committed to memory because who knows when he’d ever see you this way again.

You pull his shirt off your body, completely bare before him.

“I want you.” Your voice is soft, a whisper, as if you’re afraid the man three floors above this one would hear your confession.

“I’m yours.”

Neither of you take the words for its surface level meaning, nevermind the deeper connotation that it held. He’d never know just how much you meant the words I want you, if you meant them the way he meant I’m yours. But he’s okay with that. He’s learned to be okay with never knowing. For him, those two words held so much truth, it held his heart together. Two words allowed the moments to follow it to be okay, to be something you would both carry with the other til your six feet beneath shit soil at a cemetery on a hill.

The way Charles kisses you is an outpour of everything he feels for you, every ounce of love for you that sits in his chest. It’s every word unspoken, every touch not shared, every memory he wished he could’ve made with you. It’s filled with everything he has left to give you, and he lets you take every last drop. His mind is hazy, unable to decipher the way you kiss him back, just accepting the languid motions of your lips moving with his. His hands guide your hips upwards, while yours grip his cock to line it up to your entrance. Slowly, then all at once, you sink down onto him. A mix of muffled moans fill the room, the sweet rush of relief as Charles fills you up with every inch of him. Your breath is hot against his face as you struggle to breathe. He feels you clench around him, hugging him so beautifully he wished you could stay like this forever.

He let you set the pace, watching the rise and fall of your hips as you bounce on his dick. It’s slow, deliberate, sure to take all of him with each stroke. He savors your warmth and wet, savors the way your cunt is made for him. His eyes fall shut, senses heightened with the loss of one. Your nails dig into the skin of his chest as you pick up the pace, desperate for your own release. Charles lets you use him to get off, to chase the orgasm you so desperately crave. He forces his eyes open to watch as you slowly fall apart above him, the mess of moans, the whines and call of his name as you tremble around him. He feels your pussy pulsate around him, your cum dripping all over him.

You lean your head onto his chest, pressing a chaste kiss above his right nipple.

“Do you have one more in you baby?” He asks, lifting your off of him and flipping you over so that he is hovering above you. You nod lazily, arms wrapping loosely around his neck. “That’s my girl.”

Charles does the work, pumping his shaft that’s wet with your slick. He rubs the head of his dick along your slit before plunging into you once more. You cry out in pleasure, arms tightening around him as you pull him closer. His hips roll into yours, pushing in and out of you. It’s almost perfect, the way he fucks you while your heels dig into his tailbone to pull him in closer. The way he kisses you so tenderly while fucking you into his mattress. Your hands release him, clambering above you to grip onto the pillow. Charles is so close, and he knows you are right behind him. He licks his index and middle finger before placing them onto your sensitive clit, rubbing circles over and over until you come undone once more. It’s your orgasm, the way your cunt holds him, the way you chant his name over and over like a disciple to their messiah, the way your chest puffs up into him, that pushes him over the edge into his own euphoria. He fills you up with his cum, your name leaving his lips in breathless sigh.

I’m yours, he thinks to himself, not just for tonight. For always.

He looks up at you, heart filled with warmth as you smile at him. Not a sliver of regret, just pure ecstasy. Charles pulls out of your reluctantly, only leaning in to press a quick kiss onto your lips over running into the bathroom for a wash cloth. He cleans you up, and then himself, before rolling back into his place in bed. And for the third time that night, you find yourself with your head buried in the crook of his neck and your hand resting on his chest.

Panic sets in when you let your exhaustion take you. Not an ounce of regret, no. He’d never regret the opportunity to fuck you, to slip inside you and feel your warmth around him. No, never. The Monegasque panics for you, for his moments of selfishness turning you into a liar. He panics because just three floors above him is your boyfriend in bed, in bed where you are meant to be. He wonders how you manage to fall asleep so easily, how you melt into him like it’s all you’ve ever known. He’s now too afraid to hold you properly, too afraid to let his hand find refuge on your skin. How does he let you go now? How does he let you walk out of his home after tonight?

He doesn’t know that. But he does know that when the sun rises in a couple of hours, he would have to.

While you fall asleep, the Monegasque stares at the ceiling. Nothing, not even the sound of your mellow breathing eases his quick beating heart, eases the anxieties building in his chest. He stays awake until the sky shifts from black to blue and the sun begins to peek through the curtains, teasing a new day.

Your phone rings, pulling you from your dreamless sleep. You remove yourself from Charles’s hold, rolling over to grab your phone on the nightstand to answer the call. “Hello?”

“Hey, where are you? I’ve been calling you all night.”

Charles watches as you shoot up from your place in bed, hand still resting on his chest. He sees it now, the panic, the sliver of regret he was searching for just hours prior. He watches as you offer an excuse easily, almost naturally, while moving about Charles’s room to pick up your belongings. You crashed at a friend’s place, is the excuse you give Max on the other end of the line. Charles hears the soft tenor of the Dutchman’s voice as he pleads for you to return home, a plethora of apologies tumbling out of the receiver.

You bid adieu to the man on the other end of the phone, hanging up immediately after. You try not to look at Charles, not as you pick up your discarded underwear and the dress from the night before. Charles gets up behind you, not saying a word as he walks out of his room, only returning with a glass of water. You give him a quiet thank you, gulping it down before finally looking up at him.

Neither of you want to address the mess made in bed nor the words with secret meanings. There is an unspoken agreement that neither of you would ever mention it, that last night would fizzle out and be left as a secret between him, you, and the moon. So Charles takes the empty glass from your grasp instead, setting it on his night stand.

“That was Max?” He asks, already knowing the answer.

You nod, “Yeah. Yeah, it’s Max."

He hates the way he has to tiptoe around you now, forced to forget the way you were just wrapped around him hours ago. Now he has to stand there, offer you a smile like a friend would. Like a friend should.

"Our little secret, yeah?" You whisper, brows furrowed but eyes filled with pleas that he'd agree.

He's a selfish man when it comes to you. Charles can't lie to himself about the twisted imagination of how he'd let it slip, let it be known to the champion that he had his way with the greatest prize of all.

But for you, he would never be selfish. Whatever you asked, he followed. So he nods, a pained smile painted on his pink lips.

"Our little secret."

"Listen…” You pause, eyes moving to trace the tired features of the boy before you. “Thank you for letting me in, and for letting me spend the night.”

Charles nods, doing his best to mask his pain and perturbation behind a smile. But you see right through his up-curved lips, behind the faint squint of his eyes and the light indentation of his dimples.

“Of course, anything for you.”

Guilt warps your features. He’s glad it does. He wished you would’ve just walked out, said goodbye and went on your way. But instead you open your arms and wrap them around his neck. And he lets you. Charles returns the gesture with very little hesitation. His arms wrap around your middle, face burying itself in your neck as he holds you close to him. He holds you like his life depends on it, like it’s the last time he would ever hold you.

The sentiment is shared.

This was the hard part, the “letting you go” even though you were never really his to keep anyways. This is the part he dreads the most. You were his, but for a night. One night only.

He walks you to the door, leaning against the frame as he watches you go down the hallway of his apartment complex.

“Goodbye Charles.”

He sends you off with a tired smile, and resentment in his chest. He waves as you turn back and make your way further and further from him. Sends you off with the last of him, watching as your hair sways and your head lifted high. He watches as you make your way to go three floors up, where a harsh and cold reality sits waiting for you. Three floors up, to a man who has taken everything from him. Three floors up, where you belong.

note: do i hate the ending of this? a little. but i hope you like this. as always, feedback is so greatly appreciated. smooches.

#charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc drabble #charles leclerc smut #charles leclerc fluff #f1 x reader

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especiallythewomenandthechildren · 6 months

Text

As If Destiny

A/N: I too have fallen ill to the widespread disease that is young snow 😮‍💨 like him being so fine is so unnecessary. Some quick notes: I've never actually written a fic on here nor a reader one in general so please deal with me! Also I wrote out this whole thing, posted it, then it went into oblivion and I had to rewrite it completely so I apologize! Please let me know if I should add anything or am missing certain details that seem necessary. Any feedback would be greatly appreciated, thank you loves❤️

Summary: You've always been kind hearted yet admirably defiant. Or that is at least one of the ways Coriolanus Snow would describe you. Ever since grade school, you have always been on the same level as him in academics and one of his few competitors for the Plinth Prize. But as tragedy struck your family, Coriolanus thought you would fall away from his life, but instead, you got even more intertwined (not to mention the complicated past knots tying your families together).

Warnings: Terminal illness, parent death, death and brutality (it is the hunger games after all) characters may be ooc. I read the book a while ago but don't really remember much of Snows way of thinking (I mean I know its toxic and insane but yk the other things) so I will mostly be basing off the film and my own thoughts. Also I can't spell for the life of me so be prepared for bad spelling and grammar. Enjoy loves!

Blood just kept on coming. And coming. And coming. Every violent cough shaking your mother's body was followed by spatters of hot, deep red blood. You quickly tried to clean it up as soon as it came out to protect your mother's dignity and to make sure she didn't choke. It took a few minutes, but the coughing session passed and your mother took deep gulps of water, fighting off your attempt to get her to slow down.

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With her engrossed in her cup, you steal a glance at the clock on the wall. As the time for the start of classes nears, the more axinety builds in your chest. Your mother follows your gaze and smiles warmly.

"Run along my little scholar. I will be fine and even better knowing you are sticking your nose in every textbook you can find."

She says in a hoarse voice. You smile slightly and lightly laugh. "That's not how school works, mom. I stick my nose into tissues because of how many textbooks I have to read ."

She rolls her eyes at your little comment and does a little motion gesturing you should be on your way. Shaking your head, you retorted "I still have half an hour till classes begin and I have plenty of time for Rhayen (your driver) to take me to the academy."

You attempt to assure her. Though, it was now your mother's turn to shake her head.

"I know you prefer walking there, don't try to fool me now. You will come back after school and I will be fine. Don't worry, darling."

With a sigh, you stand up and dust off your rouge colored academy uniform and grab your bag. You give your mother a soft kiss on her temple and steal one more glance at the clock. You rush through the halls and down the stairs of your luxurious apartment. The academy wasn't too far from your home, so you could enjoy the walk and the early spring air ruffling your hair.

You tried to smile and nod at the strangers walking past. You needed to clear your mind (distract yourself) so you examined every part of the high class society. Their eyes, faces, hair, clothing, and whatever else you could analyze. With this strategy, it doesn't take long untill the grand structure of the Capital academy to come into view.

As you near the school, you notice a certain curly haired boy sitting on the steps. You feel a sense of relief and pick up your pace. You stop infront of the boy, who seemed too engrossed into his book to notice your sudden appearance.

"Are you behind on the reading or are you being a bookworm?" You question.

He snaps his head up with his familiar smile. "Had some extra time and motivation, so thought I would trudge through this absolute -"

You nudge him with your shoulder to motion to stop talking.

"Yeah yeah I know but be careful: Professor Rhaen always spawns out of nowhere and I would personally prefer if you were not on the receiving end of one of his lectures."

Everyone knew how hard it was to please your professor and how strict your he was. Especially with Sejanus.

He didn't care about his money: professor Rhaen still felt Sejanus was lesser because he was born in the districts.

That sentiment is widely shared with your classmates. From the first day, when little kind hearted Sejanus came to the capital, he was met with stares and whispers. You specifically remember Arachne snubbing the boy. But when lunch came and he sat all alone, seemingly dejected, you sauntered over to his table. Then, just like now, his brown eyes widened in surprise. You smiled and sat down in the chair across from him.

"What's your favorite smell?"

He just stared at you for a while. who asks that. The silence continued untill you got too impatient, a trait you still struggle with, and answer your own question.

"Mine is vanilla because it smells like the sweet cakes my mom makes on special occasions or even sometimes when she is in a really good mood."

A smell that has slowly been creeping its way back into your life after the war. He laughed at your confession and replied that his was lavender, the smell of his mother, or as he calls her, ma.

He was still warry as why you were sitting with him. It was clear you were well liked by your peers and teachers and always seemed to posses the right answers, exemplified in your shared morning classes. But as you both continued your meal and conversation, he felt as if he had been sent an angel that day.

"There's that smile, I've missed it." Sejanus says, breaking you out of your reminiscence.

You duck your head down in some sort of embarrassment and shame. It felt wrong to be smiling and laughing nowadays, especially with the worsening of your mother's condition.

Noticing your reaction and following your train of thought, Sejanus tried to backtrack.

"I didn't mean it like that, Y/N! I'm sorry, you've been suffering and here I am saying stuff like that. I- I- wow I'm such an idiot! I'm truly sorry."

You look up to his genuinely defated and apolgetic face. "You have no reason to be sorry, it's okay. And it's not like I'm the one suffering. I can walk, talk normally, and am not coughing up blood while my face pales and hollows." You say solemnly.

Sejanus opened his mouth to question but was cut off as you both reached your destination. It was best not to discuss your mother's condition around your gossip privy peers around.

You walk to your desks and switch to the topic of later tonight, which you would be having dinner with the Plinths, an occurrence that is becoming more and more often. The last few of your classmates filled in, including Arachne, Clemensia, Festus, and Felix.

A few paces later comes in the charming and handsome Coriolanus Snow. You wouldn't be embarrassed to admit that description, any girl with eyes would agree. With that ever plastered, neutral yet calculated expression on his face, he quickly made his way to his seat, on the other side of you.

He wasn't necessarily friends with you or even Sejanus, but he was far kinder to him than the others were. That's probably one of the many aspects that makes him more appealing. You definitely didn't have a crush on him, but you have zoned out on his side profile once or twice.

Hey, you can't blame a girl!

Well that was your excuse to Sejanus, who caught you seconds in on staring at the blonde. But that was a long time ago. Now you were always zoned out on her.

That's exactly where your mind drifted to as Professor Rhaen began his lecture on the reading assigned. And it stayed there untill the sound of a pen hitting the marble floor brought you back.

You thought it could have been you, especially in your state of hazy focus and sleep deprivation. But taking a quick look at your feet, it was Coriolanus's.

Perfect and proper Coriolanus. Huh.

You hastily grab it and give it back to him, which he accepts with a small greatful smile. A smile that quickly turns into a look of concern.

He grabs your wrist and began examining it. You were stunned and curious what he was looking at until you noticed the deep and clear blood on your wrist, clear even on your deep red uniform.

You must have gotten it when taking care of your mother! You were mentally kicking yourself for being so careless.

"Your bleeding!" He states worridly. He quickly grabs a handkerchief from his bag and attempts to put it on your wrist, but you snap it away from his hold.

You noticed the initials on the white handkerchief. It was his father's. You certainly weren't going to stain such an item of sentiment with blood that wasn't even yours. Her blood.

He was moving to grab your wrist once again but was interrupted by the clear nosies of irritation and frustration of your classmates.

While you and Snow were having your little debacle, Professor Rhaen assigned an extensive research paper that will be due in two months. You understood your peers frustration, the longer you had in this class for an assignment, the more work and harsher the grading will be. But you were greatful for this assignment. It would be a wonderful distraction.

You took a quick look around to gage their reactions and saw Arachne's scowl which made you inwardly chuckle at her expression. But when you came back around to Coriolanus, you saw him still staring at with you a questioning expression.

Questions he would be unable to voice as the bell rang to signal the end of the first period. He tried to stop you or slow you down, but you were extremely focused on getting your materials in your bag and getting out of the intense stare of the blonde.

Sejanus noticed your haste and helped you out, while Snow was attempting to catch up, handkerchief still in hand. But you sped out and straight to the bathroom to wash off the blood covering your hands.

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A/N: Sorry to cut it off here! I felt this was already so long (future me after doing some revisions and having some actual writing under my belt - no it's not.), but don't worry I plan on posting again soon! I am excited to see where this is going I hope you all are too!

#snow lands on top #the hunger games #tbosas #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus snow #sejanus deserved better #sejanus plinth #sejanus x reader

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katnisspeetaprim · 1 year

Text

Privacy Part 1 Yoongi/Reader

Summary: Videos surface online after hidden cameras were placed in your hotel room...

Warnings: Slight smut, invasions of privacy, swearing, angst, crying, almost panic attack, female reader.

Banner by @awrkive

Word count: 2448 M.list

Yoongi lay beneath you, panting heavily as he came down from his high. Arms wrapped tightly around you as you lay on top of him, back flush against his chest and your legs held apart as they lay draped over his thighs. Your own breathing was heavy, eyes closed as you turned your head towards him. Your warm breath blowing over his face as you placed feather light kisses along his jaw line.

‘I love you.’ You said, words coming out as a whisper. He smiled, finally opening his eyes to look at you.

‘I love you too.’ His breathing finally calming as he leaned down for a soft kiss. The two of you lay there for a few moments just enjoying being in each others embrace, him still nestled inside you.

You and Yoongi were currently in some fancy hotel in the middle of Vegas for their performances of Permission To Dance on stage . They had 1 more performance the next night before you had to head back to Korea. You had never been able to accompany him to any of his US tour dates before, always too busy with either work or some other prior engagement, so this was a big deal for both of you.

You slowly lifted yourself off of Yoongi, causing him to hiss as he slid out of you. Shuffling around, you now lay on your side face to face with him, your hand coming up to rub up and down his arm. His own hand drew lazy circles on your hip, causing goose umps to appear.

‘I’m glad you could fly out this time.’

‘Me too.’ You smiled at him before leaning in for another kiss. He pulled you closer to him by your waist, deepening the kiss when suddenly-

‘Ow! Fuck!’ Yoongi moaned out in pain, hunching over to curl up in the fetal position.

‘Oh my God Yoongi! I’m so sorry!’ You had unconsciously bought your knee up quite sharply when he pulled you into him, connecting it with his exposed groin. You bought your hand up to your mouth trying your best to conceal your laughter, as you sat up and placed your other hand on his shoulder.

‘If it was that bad you could have just said.’ He groaned out through gritted teeth, trying to compose himself a little.

‘I’m sorry! It really was an accident I swear!’ You managed to speak through fits of laughter.

‘you’re the worst.’ He sighed, finally sitting up. His back faced you as he stretched himself out before standing and offering his hand back for you.

‘Come on we need to shower, you stink.’ He smirked over his shoulder.

‘Excuse me!? How rude!’ You exclaimed in mock offence, still taking his hand and following him into the bathroom none the less.

Yoongi turned on the shower and stepped inside after it had warmed up, you joining him after using the toilet to pee.

The only time the two of you really showered together was after sex, that or you were both running late for something. You both just preferred your own space during that time, but it didn’t stop the two of you cuddling and bathing each other under the hot water.

Later Yoongi sat on the bed, legs crossed as he looked at work things on his phone. He’d changed into some comfortable clothing consisting of baggy tracksuit bottoms and a soft t-shirt. You sat at the vanity across the room, now dressed in a long oversized shirt and some shorts as you sorted out your hair for the night.

‘What time do you have to be out tomorrow morning?’ You looked at him through the mirror as you spoke.

‘Early.’ He groaned, not looking up from his phone. ‘Too early. You gonna get up with me to see me off?’ He looked up, smirking at you as he already knew your answer.

‘Yeah, no. I’ll see you at the venue later on.’ You scoffed back at him. You weren’t getting up ridiculously early for anybody, boyfriend or not.

‘It’s late.’ You spoke, glancing at the clock. ‘We should get some sleep.’ After tying your hair into a crude bun you stood up and made your way over to the bed, turning off the room light as you did leaving only his bedside lamp on. Yoongi nodded in agreement as he set his early alarm and placed his phone down on the bedside. He let you get yourself settled before he flicked off his own light.

You shimmied your way towards him as he held his arm out towards you, a silent invitation to cuddle into him. You rested your head on his clothed chest, closing your eyes listening to his heartbeat.

‘Good luck for tomorrow.’ You whispered into his chest. He ‘hmmed’ in response, eyes already closed and falling asleep. You smiled as you circled your arms tightly around him, letting sleep take over.

The concert the next night was amazing as usual, screaming your heart out for your boyfriend and close friends from a private area in the crowd. You had become quite close to all the members since you started dating Yoongi, considering all of them at least friends.

You all had a couple free days after the last concert before you had to fly back to Korea. The 8 of you decided to use the time to explore around the city and go on a shopping spree. You and Yoongi also made sure to christen every part of the overly fancy hotel room because why wouldn’t you?

It was always nice going back home to Korea after spending time away. Even though you weren’t born in the country, it had become like a second home to you after you moved there for Yoongi. You and Yoongi were now back in your shared home, enjoying his break after the tour. Even though he was on break, he was still locked away in his home studio just working away on things that didn’t need to be finished for months.

You sat at the kitchen counter, trying to get some of your own work done on your laptop, when you noticed your phone light up with a call. You smiled at the caller ID. Taehyung and you had become like best friends, having met each other when you and Yoongi first started dating years ago. You were close to all the members, but you and Tae just clicked.

‘Hey Tae, miss me already?’ You joked with a smile, only to be met with silence on the other end.

‘Tae?’ You tried again.

‘Y/N...Have you not seen?’ His voice was quiet but you could tell that he was holding something back.

‘Have yours and Hyung’s phone not been blowing up?’

‘What-‘ You cut yourself off confused. You pulled the phone away from your ear to check the screen. Holy cow! You thought. It was just as Tae had said. It had to be hundreds if not thousands of notifications littering your lock screen. Notifications from every social media you owned and messages from friends and family. The dozens of missed calls from your mom and messages from the other boys were what really caught your attention.

Joon – Y/N, you or Yoongi really need to answer your phones.

Jinnie – Everything will be sorted out Y/N don’t worry.

Hobi – Please answer someone, we are all really worried right now!

Jiminie – I can’t believe that this is happening right now...

JJK – Y/N if you or hyung need anything we are all here for you...

You realised then that your phone had been set to do not disturb, only catching Taehyungs call since you saw your phone light up. You felt all the blood drain from your face as you slowly lifted the phone back up to your ear.

Tae... What’s going on?’ You tried to stop your voice from wavering as you spoke but failed miserably. You heard Tae sigh down the phone before continuing.

‘Look if you don’t know yet it’s probably best that it comes from Yoongi-hyung. Bang PD should be on the phone with him right now.’ You didn’t know what to think. Tae was scaring you with how cryptic he was being , and the sheer amount of notifications on your phone was enough to send anyone into a panic. When Tae didn’t hear you reply back he spoke up again.

‘Listen, talk to Yoongi. I promise everything will be ok. Me and the rest of the boys are all here for you Y/N.’ With that he bid you goodbye and hung up, leaving you alone with your thoughts. You definitely weren’t going to look at your mentions online so you got up and dragged yourself to Yoongi’s office, deciding to leave your phone on the counter.

As you approached, you could hear Yoongi talking quite loudly so Tae must have been right. You tentatively knocked on the door before pushing it open and stepping inside.

‘Where does that leave us now?’ He was stood up, pacing back and forth occasionally running his hand through his hair due to what you can only assume was stress.

‘But that’s-‘ He stopped talking, probably cut off by the other person. You move over and sit on the small sofa in the corner of the room.

‘Yes I understand. Thank you. Goodbye.’ He hung up the phone and stared at it for a second before looking over at you. His gaze not quite meeting your eyes. You watched as he grabbed the back of his desk chair before wheeling it over directly in front of you and sitting down. He gingerly took both your hand in his own and squeezed them.

‘Yoongi...What’s happening?’ You were almost too afraid to ask. ‘Tae called me but he wouldn’t say anything so I’m freaking out right now.’ He looked up at you, face contorted in a way you didn’t recognise on him. He was silent, thinking about his words carefully.

‘You remember the hotel? The one in Vegas?’ You nodded hesitantly, unsure where he was going.

‘Turns out someone...Someone put cameras in our room.’ You froze at his revelation, not quite believing your ears.

‘Cameras? You mean they...’ You trailed off, already feeling the panic build.

‘Yes.’ He said bluntly, knowing what you were going to ask. His voice was deep, filled with a mix of anger, stress and anxiety.

'There are multiple videos of us online apparently..’ You just stared at him as his words began to sink in. How could this happen? What kind of position did that leave the two of you in? How could someone do this to you both? Your breathing started to increase as you thought about what this meant. Everybody had seen you and Yoongi together during your most intimate moments together. All the notifications suddenly made sense. Your whole body ran cold when you remembered the calls from your mother. She knew. Taehyungs call also came to mind and the boys messages...Had they all watched the videos too? No, no. They wouldn’t do that to the two of you...

You ripped you hands away from Yoongi’s and stood up to pace around the room, not unlike he was doing earlier. Your hands held your head, pulling your hair as you felt yourself hyperventilating. Yoongi was immediately on his feet and in front of you, pulling your hands out of your hair.

‘Y/N please calm down.’

‘Do not tell me to calm down Yoongi!’ You screamed startled him. ‘This situation is far from ok! I don’t know what to do.’ You started to break down, tears finally spilling from your eyes. Yoongi just stood there, letting you get it all out. His face had a defeated expression as he pulled you towards him, close to tears himself.

‘My mom knows. She’s tried to call me so many times and everybody who knows who you are has seen the videos. What do we do?’ You were now sobbing into his chest, holding on tightly to him as if your life depended on it.

‘Bang PD said we should lay low for a while. Stay off social media. The company is preparing a statement for us to look over as we speak.’ Yoongi had given up trying to be strong. He was just as upset as you were about his privacy being invaded and he wished it would be over already, despite only just beginning.

‘A lot of your fans already hate me. This is just more fuel for the hate fire.’ You trailed off. You and Yoongi had been public for a few years at this point. The original reaction to your relationship had been mostly positive, but there was a lot of hate littered between. You always tried your best to ignore the hate, but it wasn’t always that easy.

‘I’m so sorry this happened.’ Yoongi tightened his hold on you, his own tears now falling freely.

‘No please don’t apologise, this isn’t in anyway your fault.’ It broke your heart to hear him apologise for something he had no control over. You both needed to support each other right now because it was the only way you would get through this.

‘Have any of the other guys had anything come out?’ You asked, pulling your head up to look at his face. Honestly you were afraid to ask, not wanting to wish this on any of the guys.

‘No. Just us so far. I would go as far as to say whoever planted the cameras knew which room was ours.’ The thought of somebody purposely setting out to capture the two of you made you physically sick.

‘I- I think i’m gonna throw up.’ You pushed away from Yoongi and flew out the room, though you only made it a few steps before throwing up on the hallway floor, not being able to hold your stomach any longer.

This was without a doubt the worst thing that had ever happened to you. Your career could be in danger, not to mention the relationship you shared with friends and family could be on the line. Then there was Yoongi...He had so much more to loose and you couldn’t help but think that you were the one to blame...

#bts #bts x reader #scenario #one shot #imagine #drabble #reaction #kim seokjin #min yoongi #jung hoseok #kim namjoon #park jimin #kim taehyung #jeon jungkook #smut #angst #fluff #female reader

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astermath · 10 months

Note

theres like four i wanted to send but ill pick my favourite i guess... so "oh, sweetheart- come here.” with steve maybe?

the way I’m making all of these emotional as hell ajdkdk am I projecting a little? maybe! but that’s okay (I think). anyways ty for sending one in my dear! have a lovely day! ♡

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

word count: 1.3K

normal sized font below!

send in some touch starved prompts! ♡

You’re a hard worker. Always were. Whenever you were engaged in something, you gave it your all. College was no exception to this rule either. Your parents has sacrificed a lot for you to be able to go, and being a girl, you felt like you had to prove to everyone that you too were worthy of a higher education. Especially in a male dominated field like bioscience.

You’d spent ages putting together a thesis about your research. Steve was sure you were at your desk more than your bed, and as your boyfriend, that concerned him. But he knew better than to bother you with overbearing comments and concerns, so he tried his best to be supportive instead. Stopped by your desk whenever he could to bring you a snack or some tea, remind you to drink water, and always saying how proud he was and how you’d knock that presentation out of the park.

So when the day of your presentation came, he was almost as nervous as you were. Even during his shift at work, he had to stop himself from texting you to ask how it went.

So when he came home and called out for you, but didn’t get an immediate response, he was a bit worried to say the least. Usually he’d already be met with a hug or a kiss without even being fully through the front door yet. Now the apartment feels eerily quiet, not even the sound of a shower running or the stove being on. It feels wrong. Off.

"Honey?" He calls out, his nerves starting to set in. His socked feet padded over the wooden planks of your Indianapolis apartment, making his way over to your shared bedroom. The door was closed, but he could see a sliver of light peeking through below it. He held his breath for just a moment, and soon enough, he heard you sniffling and sobbing quietly.

"Baby, you in there?" You both know he knows you're there already, but he wants you to know you can have a moment alone if you feel like it. As out of character as that would be, since you always shared your toughest moments with one another.

He goes quiet again, hearing the bed creak slightly, and your slow, shuffling footsteps over to the door. He sees your shadow disrupt the light underneath, and the way you're taking your time worries him even more. Usually, the two of you would be in each other's arms already, slumped onto the couch and watching whatever was on TV.

The knob turns and the door opens just enough to reveal you standing there. You're already in pajamas, wearing one of his old high school shirts. He'd find it endearing, if he wasn't so overtaken with concern for you. Your head is dropped, so he can't see your face, but your hair looks messy. He's guessing you've been in bed since you got home a little over an hour ago.

"Hey," He steps into the bedroom with you, "how'd it uh-- how'd it go?" He regrets asking as soon as those words leave his mouth. Clearly it didn't go well, and now it just sounds like he's rubbing it in.

Instead of answering, you look up at him, and his heart aches at the sight of you. Your nose is red and your eyes are watery and puffy from crying the entire time. You look a mess, a sad, cute, adorable mess, but he feels so bad for you.

“Oh, sweetheart… Come here.” He opens up his arms and you practically crash into them, your face hiding into the crook of his neck as you start sobbing into his shoulder again.

You clutch onto him, your hands balling up the fabric of his shirt like he’s going to fade away if you don’t. Your body shakes with every sob that comes from you, it’s almost enough to make him start crying too.

He remains quiet, rubbing your back and holding you tight, his face resting against the top of your head. He presses a kiss to your hair every now and then, his way of saying “I’m so sorry this is happening right now, I’m so sorry this is all I can do”.

He lets you cry, because he knows it’s exactly what you need to do right now. Sometimes you just need to feel, not have to explain or think too much, that can come after.

You mumble something into his shoulder after seemingly having composed yourself a little again.

"What's that baby?" He pulls back a little, arms still around you.

"I fucked up so bad..." You look up at him, puppy eyes still halfway brimming with tears.

"What makes you say that?" He gently rubs over your upper arm. His hand his warm and soft, and it eases your mind just a little.

"I was such a mess... I-- I didn't even get to say or explain half the things I wanted to, and-- and I just couldn't talk. Like my body wouldn't let me."

Steve knows about your anxiety, and your fear of public speaking. You'd practiced so many times in front of him, but that was easy, you trusted him more than anybody else. Then you tried it in front of Robin and Eddie, which was a little harder, but they were your friends too. Presenting something you'd spent the last three months slaving away on was an entirely different thing, and to be honest, your boyfriend was already proud of you for willing to do it at all. Your grades on the thesis and assignment themselves were well past good enough to pass the semester, but you insisted on presenting it. That's how much you cared about it.

"No one's gonna take me serious Steve... Half of the people in my course think I shouldn't be there anyways, I know the way they talk about me--"

"Well they're fucking stupid. They don't know what they're talking about, and they don't know you." He interrupts you before you can psych yourself out even more. "They don't know about how passionate you are about your research, or how amazingly smart you are." His thumb strokes gently over your cheek, and his gaze is so loving you swear his pupils turn into little hearts.

"They don't know you love to sing while you cook, how caring you are, how you seem to bring out the best in everyone, including me."

You can't help but crack a smile now. You're sad, heartbroken, even, but never immune to your sweet boyfriend's charm. The world could be falling apart, and he'd still find a way to warm your heart.

"You're going to be okay, alright?"

"How can you be so sure?"

He pauses for a moment. "Because if they fail you, I'm personally fighting every single one of your professors."

You giggle, and a sense of pride instantly rushes through him. Still got it.

"Steve, no!" You playfully push into his shoulder. "Not Mr. Collister, he always gives us fun snail facts at the end of every class!"

"Okay, okay, everyone besides Mr. Collister. That a good compromise?"

"How about you don't fight anyone, huh?" Your sadness has seemed to flee your mind entirely. At least for the time being.

"Well, I probably won't have to, there's no way they're not letting my gorgeous," he pecks your lips softly, "brilliant," peck, "amazing," peck, "girlfriend pass the semester."

You giggle with every kiss, and wind your arms around him before he can pull away again, your lips meeting again, but for longer this time. He hums softly into it, satisfied that you're feeling better.

"Hmm, I love you Stevie."

"Love you too hun. How 'bout I cook your favorite dinner tonight, huh?"

"Can we maybe order takeout instead?"

He grins. "Anything for you, sweet girl."

@palmtreesx3 @inkluvs

#stevemath #aster writes stranger things #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fan fiction #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fic #steve harrington stranger things #stranger things fan fic #stranger things imagine #stranger things fic #steve stranger things #steve harrington x reader fluff #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington headcanon

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notsofunsenpai · 2 months

Text

This is part 3 ,but it works out as a oneshot as well so no one misses out on what happens!:D

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Alastor was woken up by soft sniffles along being gently shooked awake by little hands,if he was in a deep sleep he wouldn't have felt it,he opens one eye to see his daughter crying,"What is it honey?" He asked groggily,trying to wake up some.

"Bad dweamm dada.." she sobs as Alastor is now fully up,he take her in his arms, holding her close along with rubbing her back,"It's okay,you're safe, darling.." he said, hugging her,glancing at the time that read five in the morning. "You can stay in here for a bit." He said,wanting to lay back down. Charlie happily babbles,nuzzling against her father, who lays back down with her,putting the blanket over them. Alastor closes his eyes for what feels like a few seconds,ending up falling back to sleep. Charlie, who was still awake, moved off of her father,going to her mwama, who was dead asleep. She stares at him and then playfully smacks the blonde in the face,earning small groans from him. She giggles as she then pokes his chubby cheeks repeatedly before jumping on him,hearing an oof sound from him along with some movements from under the covers for him to look at her.

"Good morning, Charlotte..." he says half awake.

"Charlie!" The young blonde said, puffing out her cheeks as she playfully jumps on Luficer again.

"Okay.. im up..." he raspyly said, sitting up,hugging his daughter.

"It's so early.." he said, looking at the clock,"Why are you up?" He asked,thinkin that her sleeping schedule is gonna be fucked.

"Monsters!" She says.

"I thought i spray them away."

"Bathroom."

"I didn't spray there.. I'll do it later on." He said,truth be told there was no monsters he knows no one dares try to break into their home if they have a death wish, so to ease her worries he always spray some air freshner to make it seem like he scare the scary monsters away.

"Come on kiddo- wait did you wake your dad up?" Lucifer asked,hopefully he could hand Charlie over to his partner so he could sleep.

"Wake me up and you're a dead man love." Alastor says suddenly.

"Damn." Lucifer pouts,"Let me make breakfast for you and Char Char then.." he said,leaning over to the night stand to get his white robe and tying it around his scarred body,he was already wearing duck pajamas bottoms. He still havent gotten his other pjs out of the dryer yet so this will do,he picks his daughter up,"Do you want anything love?" He asked his partner.

"Peace and quiet. "

"Starve."

"You're always a terrible cook." Alastor replied back.

"Hey!.. so mean." He then gets up with Charlie in his arms,leaving the room he goes to the kitchen along with turning on the living room and kitchen lights so he doesnt trip over things again. He sits Charlie in her high chair,he goes into the fridge to get her some juice,"I'm making oatmeal this morning." He said, handing her sippy cup filled with apple juice. Charlie immediately starts drinking her juice,it's her favorite..or was it orange juice? She didnt know,they were both tasty to her.

Lucifer started making oatmeal the ones that you can just add water then microwave under 3 minutes,once it's done he tasted it to make sure it wasnt to hot for Charlie.

"Hey!!"

"I was just checking the temperature, I wasn't gonna eat it." Lucifer defended himself,setting the bowl in front of her as he happily puts her hands in the bowl and eating.

"You have a spoon for a reason.." he said as he watches her make a mess with the oatmeal.

Lucifer goes into one of the cabinets to get another bowl out and pour himself some cereal,he took the spoon Charlie was supposed to use for himself,and sat down next to her as he eats his dry cereal,realizing at the last second they need milk and two that he eating dry cereal..

He ate it like a champ,not minding it. He thought the spoon was an overkill when he could just use his hands.

Guess the apple doesn't fall far from the tree.

He was quick to finish his cereal, and he got up and put it into the sink as he got himself a bottle of water from the fridge and drank it.

Charlie was now playing with the small amount of food she had,Lucifer decided she was done and took the bowl from her as he finished off the rest by using his hand,eating the remaining oatmeal. He then puts her bowl in the sink along with washing his hands,"Come on, charlie, let's get you ready since you are fully awake." He said taking her out of the high chair,as she holds onto him,getting oatmeal onto his robe. He takes her to the bathroom where he helped her brush her teeth along with washing her up some,brushing her unkept hair along with dressing her up. She was wearing a red deer onesie with the feet being little black paws and on the backside a small red deer tail with white underneath can be seen. "Im papa!!" She beams,practically jumping up and down.

"Yes you are sweetly." He smiles,it was a habit for Alastor and Lucifer to dress Charlie up as their loved one,for an example when Charlie was first born Lucifer had put a deer beanie onto her along with a red onsies as she sleeps. He did it at first because laundry wasn't done at the time but ending up liking the idea and thought it would be cute,another reason is that he didn't want his girl to end up forgetting about them or hating them for some reason.

Alastor thought it was cute and funny so he kinda just went along with it,not really questioning Lucifer.

"Imma let you play for a bit,then after play time we gotta go to the store for some stuff."

"Oki!!" Charlie said practically running out the door.

"I hope she doesnt make a mess." He said smiling softly,as he quickly brushes his teeth along with brushing his hair,whicing ended up more poofyier than normal because he didn't want to wet or do anything with it.

He passed Charlie's room to see her talking on her toy landline,he smiles at her before going to his shared room to get dressed.

He opens the closet,going through it just picking out something to wear which he picks out blue jeans and a white shirt. "Do you need anything from the store love?" He asked,taking the robe off,showing off his scars once more before putting the shirt on. The scars were old,the ones that were on his upper arms that the shirt hid were when he went through depression. He doesn't like to talk much about it because it'll make him cry and he wants to be strong for his family.

"Get me the ingredients for jambalaya,we're having that for dinner tonight, please. I've been craving it but haven't gotten around to it." Alastor said awake,he knows he won't go back to sleep.

"Okay." Lucifer then goes over to him and kisses him," Always So beautiful when you wake up,i love you."

Alastor who felt like a zombie lets his lover kiss him. He's usually a morning person, but lately, he's been sleeping later than usual. He feels fingers run through his messy red hair, then the feeling of his ears being scratched,he leans into the touch,smiling softly.

No matter how many times Lucifer touches Alastor's ears, he always loved how soft they were. "I'll be an hour,think you can survive without me ?"

"Definitely. " The other remarks.

"Supposed to say no -"

Alastor laughs,making the blonde puff out his cheeks,"Fine, see if i care." He said, leaving the room.

Alastor counting backward from three ,"three..two..one"

Lucifer pokes his head out from the other side of the door,"Do you really mean that?" He asked,giving him his puppy dog eyes.

Alastor softly sighed,"No, i don't mean that,I'll miss you."

"Okay, good. You better." He said before going back to Charlie.

The radio demon smiles,"That's my idiot. " he softly says to no one but himself.

Lucifer gets Charlie, who reluctantly stopped playing to go to the store. She loves adventure and helping out as much as she can. He puts her in her red car seat,making sure she's buckled up, then gets inside of the red Kia Forte, then drives to the store. Charlie had her own little steering wheel. That way, she could drive along with her mama, too.

"Vroommm!" Charlie says,hitting her little horn while turning the wheel constantly,"Wook, I'm drivin!!"

"I'm very proud of you,you're an amazing driver, hon." Luficer smiles at his daughter through the mirror's view as they soon arrive at the store.

#hello tumblr #no proofreading we die like men #hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel #appleradio #radioapple #soft alastor #soft lucifer #little charlie #charlie morningstar #lucifer morningstar #my writting

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kissesforsatoru · 2 years

Note

Hii, can I request prompt 15 and 16 with fyodor, with fem!reader. If you want you can just do one prompt. Ty and have a nice day!

𓏲 ˖. pairings. . . fyodor x fem!reader

𓏲 ˖. summary. . . “let them watch, that way they know you're mine” + “you look so pretty all fucked out and covered in my cum”

𓏲 ˖. warnings. . . general yandere themes, public-sex, begging, jealousy, posessive behavior

𓏲 ˖. notes. . . this is incredibly long awaited and a little sloppy , i’m sorry 😭😭

fyodor is the kind of man who adores showing off his lover, but is also very possessive. you aren't really sure how to feel. about that, because whenever fyodor gets jealous, you have to deal with the repercussions—and he gets jealous easily. but then again, you aren't allowed out often enough for you to really be bothered by it.

he likes to drag you along with him to decay of angels meetings, which is one of the few places you're able to relax in public with him. everyone there knows that you belong to fyodor, so you don't usually have to worry about him getting jealous there. usually, because sometimes nikolai will flirt with you and purposefully make fyodor upset.

but, today is different than the days when nikolai jokingly flirts with you, because someone new is here—someone completely unknowing to the fact that flirting with you could cost him his life.

from what you know, he's someone that was hired to cator food and drinks after nikolai complained about always being hungry during meetings.

he got flustered, fumbling over his words when he asked if you needed anything. you should've declined, maybe even flat out ignored him, because you could tell fyodor was very unhappy that you requested water. and making matters worse, the boy wouldn't stop staring at you, completely oblivious to the growing danger he's causing for you and him.

when the meeting was finally over, everyone left the room except for the boy who stood nervously by the door, still staring. you've been trying to ignore him this whole time, instead mindlessly sipping on the water, but the intensity of his stare made you squirm uncomfortably in your chair.

you nearly choked on your water when you felt fyodor grab you by your waist, roughly pulling you out of your seat and into his lap.

“i miss you, malishka.” he mumbled, nuzzling his face into your neck. “i haven't gotten to hold you all day.” his words were muffled into your skin, the warmth of his breath causing you to shiver in his hold.

you don't get the chance to reply before you feel him suck harshly on your neck, dragging out a pained gasp from you. you hold onto his shoulders tightly, trying your best to push him away to ease the pain, but he hardly budges. insted his arms wrap tighter around you, pulling you even closer against his body.

when he pulls away, he licks lightly at the mark he left behind before kissing it. you feel one of his hands come to rest high up on your thigh, pushing up the skirt he made you wear ever so slightly.

“wa–wait,” you say frantically, gripping his wrist. “what are you doing? someone might see!” and by someone you mean the boy who might still standing by the door. you try and turn to check, but fyodor grabs your chin and kisses you.

he squeezes your jaw just enough so that you open your mouth, allowing his tongue to invade. tears welled in your eyes at the overwhelming force of his lips against yours—it was needy and desperate, so much that you could feel the urgency.

fyodor only pulled back when you started tugging at his coat, indicating that you couldn't breathe. he threaded his fingers into your hair, tugging your head back lightly to get the perfect view of your dazed face.

“let them watch, that way they know you're mine” he hummed, pushing your body yo rest against the table behind you. you didn't say anything, just watched nervously as he pushed your skirt further up to reveal your bare cunt—fyodor instead that you don't wear any panties so that he can use you easily whenever he wanted.

you moan shakily when he slowly slides a finger inside your cunt that was already embarrassingly wet. your body can easily be swayed by the pleasure that fyodor brings to you body—you've never been able to deny him, and now won't be an exception.

any worry about the boy watching practically disappeared as fyodor fingered you, his fingers curling into the right spots easily distracting you from anything but him right now. your eyes flutter closed when he adds another finger and presses his thumb flat against your clit, rubbing it lightly to stimulate your body even more.

his lips latch onto your chest just under your collarbone where he sucks another hickey, follwed by many more as he trails his lips down to your tits. he licks the bud lightly, skillfully swirling his tongue over it before taking it into his mouth.

“fyodor,” you panted, unable to catch your breath. “please, fuck me already!” you whined, wiggling your hips against his crotch greedily in hopes of enticing him to fuck you—but he doesn't. Instead, he grips your hip and holds them down against his body as he continues to tease your needy cunt.

“please! fedya—need it, please!”you beg pathetically, tugging at his shirt in desperation.

“you've gotta beg harder than that, love. you know what i want to hear.” he hums, pressing his thumb against your clit and massaging it with a barely there touch.

“please! I'll do anything you want, just fuck me!” you plead. tears well up in your eyes and you can't help but whine pitifully as he continues to tease your body with his fingers, not making any move to give you what you want.

“i’m sorry! i’m only your slut and nobody else’s! please let me cum on your cock!” you cry out, practically choking on your words as you sob.

“that’s it, good girl.” fyodor says as he pulls his fingers out of you and instead slipping them into his mouth, licking them clean of your slick. you watch embarrassed as he hums in delight at your taste, savoring every last bit of flavor carefully—even after all that’s left on his fingers is his saliva.

after he’s done, he pulls you close for a sloppy kiss while he takes off his pants and aligns himself up to your fluttering pussy. you sigh contentedly into the kiss as he rubs the head of his cock against your soaking cunny, every now and then teasingly slipping in and then right back out.

you don’t expect it when he shoves his cock all the way in roughly, the force of his thrust causing you to choke on a cry. he only gives you a few seconds to adjust before he pulls out and thrusts back in just as rough as the last time. he thrust roughly in and out of you, over and over again until your haphazard moans are loud enough for everyone to hear how good he pleasures you.

you grow dizzy quickly, and you can’t help but weakly fall into his chest as he continues pummeling you relentlessly. he grips your hips tightly, directing them so that he’s hitting your sweetest spots with every thrust. you’re sure you’ll be sore and unable to walk tomorrow, but right now the pleasure is worth every bit of pain you have later.

“ah, ‘m so close” your words slurred, sounding more like a muffled moan than anything, but fyodor still understood. you were almost at your limit—the familiar coil in the pit of your stomach growing tighter and tighter, ready to come undone at any moment a telling enough sign of that. you wanted to hang on a bit longer, but that was practically impossible when you were feeling this good.

with another deep thrust, you gasped in pleasure as you began to tremble in his hold. but he didn’t stop or falter. he kept thrusting, panting hotly into your neck as he neared his own release.

“fuck,” he cursed, pulling out to pump his cock in his hand. he wrapped his free hand around your waist and picked you up to lay you down on the table. he stood between your legs and leaned over you as he came, the warm liquid spraying all over your plush stomach.

“you look so pretty all fucked out and covered in my cum” he whispered, smirking down at your limp form before leaning down to kiss you.

#yandere #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere bsd #yandere thoughts #yandere bungo stray dogs x reader #bsd anime #yandere bungou stray dogs #yandere bsd x reader #yandere fyodor x reader #yandere fyodor x you #yandere fyodor x y/n #yandere fyodor #bsd fyodor #fyodor dostoyevsky bsd #fyodor x y/n #fyodor x reader #fyodor x you #dead dove do not eat

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frankenfaandom · 2 years

Note

Can you do a sick or exhausted Mary goore x reader? Or something where Mary isn’t feeling so well and the reader watches over Mary?

Did I see this as soon as I woke up and wrote it immediately? Have I only been awake for 20 minutes? Yes and yes. Ty for the request!!

Warning!!! Immense fluff and adorableness under the cut!

[Not my gif] [he's just rlly hot]

It's pouring outside and Mary is aggravated that he can't go out and enjoy it. He's currently on bed duty, his arm in a cast and his fever high. How he managed to break his arm and catch a cold? Well, this man is full of mysteries and sadly that is one of them.

"Can't we go out for a bit?" Mary whines, uncharacteristic of him. His voice is gruff and raspy from a mixture of him just waking up from a nap and being utterly sick.

"Pretty sure you can't get your cast wet." You say, sitting down beside him, the bed dipping inward. "Plus, you have to rest. Lots of sleep. And I mean it." You brush his sweaty hair from his forehead causing your boyfriend to set out a sigh of relief. "And then tomorrow I'm making you shower."

"'Thought I couldn't get my cast wet." He mimics you, rolling his eyes. If he could slump back into the bed more, he would, just to show his annoyance. Mary's eyes find yours after a moment. He pouts his lips a bit.

"Shut up." You lean down to press a kiss to his damp forehead. It's obvious that Mary's trying not to smile.

"Ay-" Mary takes his free arm to your shoulder, gently pushing you away. "Don't you dare get sick because you couldn't resist kissing your sexy ass boyfriend. I know it's hard, doll, but you gotta live without me--" He's trying to joke, but his words get stuck at his throat and he starts to cough.

You pull away, letting him do his thing. Once he stops the coughing attack, he lays back and closes his eyes. "Maybe some more sleep'll do me some good. I dunno." You smile, feeling a little victorious.

"Thanks Mare." You stand and move an inch to the bathroom, opening the drawers for the cold medicine. Upon finding it, you realize it's almost completely gone, so you pour whatever is left for Mary. "Okay Mare, medicine time."

When you look back to the bed, Mary's playing dead. His tongue is out and his eyes are half shut. You roll your eyes and flick his shoulder, causing him to wince. "Don't do that!" You say in unison.

"Take your medicine." You shove it in his face. "Take it or I'm not cuddling with you tonight." You know you'd still cuddle with him. If he's sick, not sick, took his medicine or not. Mary knows that too, but he takes the little shot glass from your hand with a scowl on his face.

Chug the medicine down, slam it on the nightstand like a shot, and then he's gulping down water like his life depended on it. Had he forgotten it existed?

After a hot minute of the weirdest chugging sounds, he stops, puts the water down and wipes his mouth.

"Better?"

"A little. Medicine doesn't kick in like that. Also my arm's still broken."

"I meant the water, dumbass. When was the last time you had any? I told you before work if you didn't--"

"-If I didn't drink water I'd get kicked in the ass by you, yes. But jokes on you, I'm into tha--"

"Mary Goore!" You laugh, slapping his thigh playfully. "I swear, you're going to be the death of me."

"Hmmm, maybe. Come're." The clock reads 20:24 as Mary coaxes you into bed. You quickly make way of your clothes, putting on one of Mary's shirts instead, and you climb into bed.

"Ohhh yeah." He sighs, pulling you closer. "That's much better. See? All cured." He suppresses a cough, which turns into a worse cough so he moves away just for a moment. He falls right back in place beside you. "All cured." You laugh, holding his face with a hand to give him a kiss.

"Thanks for taking care of me. I dunno what I would've done if you weren't here"

"Probably would've died by now." You joke, but shake your head. "Of course, Mare." You squeeze a little closer, his body is like a fucking heat radiator. "I love you." You look up to watch his expression which softens and he closes his eyes.

"Love you too, doll."

#the band ghost #ghost #ghost bc #mary goore #mary goore headcanons #mary goore x reader #beloved mary #mary goore/reader #mary goore beloved #repugnant band #repugnant #pls comment and repost it means the world to writers #ghost band

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j-a-nuary · 1 year

Text

Crybaby

Changbin tries to stay professional when one of his personal training clients starts crying.

Warnings/etc: 3.7k | Crossing professional boundaries, dacryphilia (crying kink), ya girl is thicc and knows what she wants 👌 (still has moments of self-consciousness though), she calls him Mr. Seo for most of the this, Changbin is basically that "I hope this doesn't awaken anything in me" meme, there's all your general foreplay (fingering, oral, all sorts of rubbing) and PIV y'all [MDNI/NSFW OBVI], sorta public sex (the gym is closed).

Tagging @rapline-heaux because without our conversations this wouldn't have happened.

"Wait wait wait," he raised his hands to grab the bar in her hands, "don't hurt yourself."

=====

He hadn't meant to make her cry. Honest. He was just trying to encourage her to keep going, and may have gotten a little… loud.

She shook her head, tears still running down her cheeks, protesting ardently.

"No," she hiccuped, "I can take it."

Changbin wasn't sure exactly what did it, but he backed away immediately. To her, he probably seemed to be letting her do her reps. In reality, he was panicking.

Taking deep breaths, he tried to will the growing hardness between his legs to go away.

I'm a professional. I'm a professional. I am a fucking professional. I am not going to think about tying her to the squat rack… fuck!

"Okay," he grasped at straws, "I think you've earned a break. Go get yourself some water."

She retreated into the locker room, saying something about forgetting her water bottle in there. Changbin nodded, not absorbing her words. He was too busy trying not to think about the wet streaks on her skin, or the way her face had strained as she worked.

He made a beeline for the front desk.

"Hyung," he huffed out as he flopped onto the waist high surface.

"Yes?" Chan absently asked, staring at the computer screen in front of him as he chewed on his ID badge.

"Hyuuuuuunnnnggggg…" Changbin whined, bumping his forehead against the countertop.

"What?" Chan dropped the badge from his mouth, lanyard jingling with the motion, "what happened?"

"Have you…" Changbin lifted his head and looked around secretively before starting again. "I'm hard. At work."

Chan laughed. Of course he did. What else was he supposed to do?

"Okay, and?"

"And my session has twenty minutes left!" Changbin stood up. "What the fuck am I supposed to do?"

"Well…" Chan's eyes remained glued go the computer screen, despite his best friend currently going through it next to him, "what caused it?"

"I was encouraging her to do one more rep…"

Chan hummed, nodding slightly to indicate that he was listening.

"And she started crying."

Finally, FINALLY, Chan looked up from his computer.

"Say sike right now."

"Hyuuuuuunnnnggggg…" Changbin leaned forward, supporting himself on the counter with his arms and chest specifically so that he could kick his feet while whining.

"That's a Minho conversation," Chan shook his head, returning his focus to his monitor, "I don't cover kink discoveries."

Huffing dramatically, Changbin laid his head against the countertop once more. He remained silent, trying to think of anything but what had happened, until a voice interrupted.

"Mr. Seo?"

He stood and turned, thankful that enough time had passed for the most pressing of his issues to fade. He fixed his customer service smile in place.

"Ready to finish up?"

She smiled at him. He couldn't help but notice that she had washed her face. The skin looked slightly raw, like she had rubbed it vigorously.

"Yes sir. I'm ready to follow orders!"

Changbin felt a prickle of satisfaction at the conspicuous pause in keyboard taps coming from the direction of one Bang Chan.

=====

"I'm kind of a crybaby anyway," she sniffled, wiping her eyes as she rested against the assisted pull-up stand, "don't let it stop you."

He wasn't hard again. He was not. Not completely anyway.

"Good to know," he managed to sound relatively normal, "but if you're in pain or something, make sure you let me know."

"How else am I going to get rid of this?" She slapped a hand against her thigh, sending a jiggle that Changbin desperately tried to ignore through it.

"Besides, some pain is good."

=====

Changbin stood in the mostly dark facility, going down the closing checklist. Locker rooms had been cleaned, machines had been wiped down, the mopping was done… it was all blurred together but he was pretty sure all he had left to do was restock the fridge and make sure he locked up after himself when he left.

He fetched a crate of impractically sugar packed "sports drinks" and water from the storage closet and settled next to the cooler. Halfway through the strawberry banana blast, he heard a rapid knocking on the glass doors.

Hauling himself up just slightly, he peeked over the counter.

She was peering through the glass, tears once again streaming down her face. She seemed desperate to get back in.

Swiping his keys off the counter, Changbin approached the doors. Her expression brightened, but the tears kept coming. He unlocked the door and pulled it just slightly open.

"Hey, you okay?"

"I'm so sorry! I left my phone in the locker room. Can I please just go grab it?"

He considered this. Obviously, customers weren't allowed inside after hours… but what was the harm, really? He was certain that if she tried anything sketchy he could easily enough physically remove her from the premises.

"Uh, yeah," he stepped back, widening the opening of the door to let her in.

"Thank you so much!" She edged past him.

He tried not to be too aware of the way her body brushed against his as she moved. He quickly busied himself with relocking the door.

"You don't mind, right?" He didn't even know if she was still nearby, but it felt like the right thing to say. "They're supposed to stay locked after hours."

"No problem. Uh…"

Her voice trailed off when he turned to look at her.

"I'll stay up front while you look," he offered, trying to make it clear that he was not a threat.

"Actually," she fidgeted with the hem of her sweatshirt, "could you help me look? This place is kind of creepy when it's empty."

"Oh, uh… sure? That's fine."

=====

He wasn't staring at her ass. He wasn't. He absolutely was n-

Her ass jiggled as she let her heels drop back to the floor.

"Hey Changbin?"

He blinked, hoping she hadn't spotted him staring at her ass.

"Yeah?"

"Can you check the top shelf for me?"

Knowing full well that he also couldn't see the top shelf of the tall lockers, he crossed the room anyway.

She smiled at him, and just before he reached the open locker she turned into his space. Pointing to the only shelf in the only locker that was currently open, the curve of her ass pressed against the front of Changbin’s body.

"I usually put it right," she lifted onto her tiptoes, rubbing even more against his body, "here."

Changbin bit his lip, holding his breath and trying not to think about the angle of her hips against his.

I should move. I should step back. If I move she'll definitely see it though. I shou-

"You might need to get closer."

Against all sense, he followed the implied request of her words.

If the locker had been shut, she'd have been pressed tightly against it by now. As it was, she gripped on the edge of the tall shelf and rolled her hips backwards.

"Fuck," Changbin groaned, unable to keep himself from grinding against her this time.

"Is it too hard?"

"Fuck," he took a step back, stumbling his way to sit on the wooden bench that ran the length of the room, "I'm so sorry! Fuck that's… I shouldn't… that was totally out of l-"

He cut off in a choked groan.

She was lifting her sweatshirt. Pulling it upwards, uncovering just how tightly her leggings hugged the swell of her ass and dips in her hips.

"It's fine Changbin. You can touch me if you want."

He thought he might snap the bench with how tightly he was gripping the wood at his sides. Clearing his throat, he tested the waters.

"Do you… um… do you want me to touch you?"

She turned to face him, tugging the sweatshirt entirely off. He noted that her outfit was the same one she had worn earlier, while he had worked with her.

"Yes," her eyes seemed to shine as he watched her approach him. One of her knees slid onto the bench next to him.

"Don't you want to touch me Mr. Seo?"

That did something to his body that he'd probably have to do some googling about later on.

"I saw you get hard earlier."

"Fuck," he couldn't think straight, "I'm sorry. I jus-"

She leaned in, cutting him off by pressing her lips against his.

All doubt left his mind. Reaching forward, he grabbed at her waist, reveling in the way his hands sunk into her flesh. She made a surprised sound, which he countered with what he hoped was an appreciative groan.

"You were just so pretty," he mumbled against her lips. "So pretty when you cry for me."

She laughed. Good. He was relieved that she seemed okay with, well, everything at the moment.

Resituating his grip on her body, he grabbed, tilted, and slowly lifted as he stood up.

"Careful!" She quickly latched her arms behind his neck, clearly concerned about being dropped.

"I got you baby," he reassured her as he carried her to the low counter between rows of lockers. He supposed it was there for patrons to do their makeup, or hair, or something after showering at the gym. Or perhaps just to take progress pictures in the mirror.

For now, it would serve as Changbin’s personal dining table.

He placed her onto the counter and immediately started sliding his fingers into the waistband of her leggings.

"Can I take these off?" He managed to ask between short breaths and quick nips at her lips.

"Please," she pleaded, "take off whatever you want Cha-"

"Mr. Seo," he was definitely going to have to think about that later. "Same as when we're training."

She groaned and nodded, knitting her hands into his curls.

"Are you going to train me well, Mr. Seo?"

Oh fuck.

"Of course baby," he lowered his head and tugged at the strap of her tank top with his teeth, "I can make your body do things you never dreamed of."

"Please… please please please please…"

He stood up straighter and dug his fingers even further under the edge of her leggings. Gripping the fabric, he started pulling it down.

She hunched slightly, arms falling in front of herself. He didn't notice at first, so focused on getting rid of the stretchy cloth. Carefully he rolled it down, pausing to slip her shoes and socks off before fully removing the leggings. Letting himself land on his knees, he looked back up at her.

He spotted her posture immediately. Reaching up, he pulled her hands into his.

"Don't hide from me," he said as softly as he could, but to his ear it still sounded a little demanding, "I want to see all of you."

"Nngh," she made a complaining noise, "I'm fat."

"So?"

He stood, still gripping her hands in his. He noted the bright red flush of her face.

"So I…" She avoided his gaze, tears gathering in her eyes again, "I'm not… you know… sexy."

He couldn't help but laugh. It burst out of him like someone had forced it out of him.

"Baby don't be stupid," he pulled one of her hands down, pressing it against where he was uncomfortably hard in his shorts.

"Does this feel like you're not sexy?"

She bit her lip, eyes trailing downwards. She twisted her hand free of his and more firmly ran his fingers against him, gripping him as well as she could through the cloth.

"Fuck," Changbin groaned. He slumped forward, digging his face into the crook of her shoulder and just enjoyed the feeling for a minute.

"Am I doing well, Mr. Seo?"

"Doing so well," he huffed into her neck. "Want you so bad."

His hands started wandering. While one took up the duty of helping him steady and ground himself on the countertop, the other trailed over her body. He wanted to map out the entirety of her.

He slid his hand up her shirt, pausing to knead at her stomach for a moment while he just groaned into her ear again. Continuing onwards, he was delighted to find that her workout tank apparently provided enough support that she didn't need an additional sports bra.

"Fuck, baby," he paused, letting his thumb explore her nipple as he started kissing her jaw, "want this off too."

She made a breathy noise, and he felt her chest heave under his hand.

"You gonna take it off for me? Show me everything?"

"Cha-" she groaned as his fingers tightened around her nipple, "Mr. Seo!"

"Good girl," he moved to kiss her lips again, "I'm going to take this off now, okay?"

She nodded, and he could feel the wetness on her face where her cheek brushed against his own.

The elasticity of her top worked against him for a moment, making her laugh before taking matters into her own hands. Changbin's eyes were glued to the tracks that littered down her cheeks and along her chin, even as he took the opportunity to return his hands to her waist. What he found made him groan again, finally dropping his eyes to take a proper look.

"You workout like this? Or did you take them off before coming back here?"

"I like to be optimistic."

His brain went blank. She hadn't exactly answered the question, but he was choosing to take it as the former option. After blinking for a few seconds, he decided to trace his hand forward, over her thigh, between her legs.

"Hoping I'd notice?"

She hummed a positive note, biting her lip as his hand moved.

Her wetness was… abundant. He nearly lost track of where his fingers were since all he could feel was slicked up flesh.

"Lean back for me," he asked, "and spread your legs."

"What ar- fuck!"

He had dropped back to his knees and wrench her legs apart. His fingers sank into her thighs as he pressed forward to lick a wild line up the front of her.

"Mr. Se-eo…" the words shuddered out of her. It sounded like half a complaint, but the way her hands dug into his hair proved that he shouldn't move very far from where he was.

That was fine by him. Mouth wide, tongue out, he took his time to explore every fold, crease, and bump. Finding the spot, just slightly off center, that made her fingers pull so hard that his scalp stung, he finally let one hand free from a thigh. Extending two fingers, he barely brushed against her entrance.

"Mis… ter… Seo…"

He hummed against her, a questioning upwards tone.

"Pu… put th… please…"

He smiled against her, still refusing to move from his work. But he didn't want to tease too much. Slowly, he pushed his fingers forward.

It earned him a loud moan.

"Fuck," he spoke between abrupt licks, "sound… so pretty… for me."

"I'm gonna… fuck I'm gonna… gonna…"

He renewed his efforts, shaking his head slightly in his own excitement. It seemed to only add to it for her though, so he mimicked the motion.

He also quickened the pace of his fingers. He turned his fingers, exploring the reactions he could get from different angles. Finding something that made her emit a high pitched whine, he focused on that.

"Cum… gonna… fuck! Cumming!"

The first thing Changbin noticed was her thighs squeezing around his ears. The second was the texture of her slick somehow getting even smoother.

He kept going, softening his motions just marginally. After a few moments, her thighs loosened and he stood up.

"You," he kissed her, "taste," another kiss, "so good."

He almost missed it, thanks to the wetness already on his skin, but when he pulled back he could see clearly the tear stains on her face. His eyes trailed over the tracks, noting where the tears had hit her chest and trickled across her body.

"Mr. Seo," she panted, "please fuck me."

Changbin was suddenly aware of how very clothed he was. Nearly toppling over in haste, he stripped down until the only thing he still had on was his earrings.

He saw the way her eyes flowed over his body. The appreciative quirk of her eyebrows, the way she subconsciously wet her lips. He decided to show off, just a little bit.

Gripping his cock, he slowly pumped it. He didn't need much help in getting hard. He just couldn't help basking in the way her eyes focused, smirking at the whiny noise she made.

"You sure babygirl? Want me fuck you here?"

She nodded quickly, biting her lip.

"I've got an implant!" She blurted.

He tilted his head, not quite processing the words.

"It's… birth control," she shyly explained, "it's for medical stuff but… there's no… worry," she shut her eyes, trying to hide from the awkward, yet necessary, conversation.

Changbin took the opportunity to wedge himself between her legs.

"Look at me pretty."

She opened one eye, staring up at him.

"What a good girl you are," he spoke softly, slowly rubbing himself against her as he continued, "Right? Good pretty girl gonna let me fill her up?"

"Mhmm," she nodded piteously, fresh tears falling from her eyes, "please Mr. Seo."

He almost came like that, rutting against her cunt, watching her be reduced to tears at the thought of him fucking her.

But that would simply be a waste.

Changbin anchored one hand on her waist, gripping her tightly. With his other, he directed himself into her properly.

"Fuuuuck… Mr. Seo… fuck so good," her face slackened, satisfied at finally having him inside her.

Changbin was sure his own expression was much more tense. Taking shallow breaths through his nose, he prayed that he wouldn't bust the second he moved again.

After a second, he gave his hips an experimental thrust. The experiment being based on force.

"Mr. Seo!"

He groaned.

"Pretty baby," he was losing track of himself as he started up a rhythm, "so pretty for me… want me to fuck you hard? Want it soft? Talk to me pretty… tell me what you want."

She looped her hands around his neck, loosely holding him as she let herself lean against the mirror behind her.

"Harder Mr. Seo," she panted, "train me hard."

He let out a guttural moan, reaching up to do… something. He didn't really know what he was aiming for, but his fingers ended up in her mouth.

"Fuck… what a good girl. Pretty girl. Pretty baby gonna let me cum inside, huh? Gonna let me train this pussy to take my cum? Fuck, gonna fucking fill up my pretty baby."

She couldn't rightly respond, but she nodded. Fresh tears streamed down her face, which only motivated Changbin to go harder.

"Crying because of my cock? So perfect. Show me your pretty eyes baby, let me see how much you like having me inside you. Gonna cry for me more? Good girl. Come here."

He dragged his fingers from between her lips and pressed forward to kiss her. She made a muffled whining sound into his mouth. Changbin pecked her cheek before whispering in her ear.

"You okay?"

He felt her nod.

"Tell me."

"I'm good. Fuck, I'm so good."

"Good," he kissed her neck, "tell me if anything changes, yeah?"

"Yes."

"Good girl."

He leaned back again, the angle allowing him to put more power into his thrusts.

She twisted slightly, placing her arms across her body as she ran her nails over his skin.

He gave a particularly sharp thrust and moved his hands to grip her wrists. Putting them both into one hand, he pinned her arms up against the mirror.

"I told you not to hide from me."

She whined.

"I want to see all of that pretty body baby. Every fucking inch, okay?"

She nodded, but didn't say anything.

Changbin narrowed his eyes and let go of her wrists.

"If you try to cover yourself up again, I'll stop fucking you."

She groaned, annoyed, but nodded.

"Good girl, now…" he grabbed one of her hands and slid it between their bodies. "Show me how much you want me to fill you up. Give me those tears when you cum."

It didn't take long. She worked her fingers over herself, occasionally dipping down further to let her fingers straddle over his cock - giving him a bit of extra variation in texture and pressure. A fresh wave of tears started spilling down her face soon enough, and she started mumbling again.

"Gonna… fuck gon… gonna c…"

Changbin let himself relax, satisfied that he'd held back enough already. He felt her tighten around him, making him gasp slightly.

"Fuck! What a good girl for me. So good, so pretty for me… crying so pretty for me… cumming all over my cock… gonna fucking fill you up… gonna fu… uck!"

He came mostly to a standstill, leaning over her and giving tiny jerks of his hips as the last few spurts of his release pulsed through him.

A few moments later, once they were clean again (courtesy of the gym's showers), he recalled what had started this whole thing.

"We didn't find your phone."

"Oh," she seemed unphased, "let me see your phone. I'll call it."

He dug his phone out of his shorts' pocket and handed it over.

She tapped at the screen, and after a second a loud buzzing was heard.

Sporting a small smile, she pulled her phone out of the drawstring bag she had been carrying with her.

"Oh," she tilted her head at him, "would you look at that? Seems like I had it this whole time."

Changbin stared at her, unsure of how to process what had just happened. She laughed, handing his phone back to him.

"Anyway, I should probably get going so you can finish closing up."

"Uh… yeah…"

He saw her out, re-cleaned the women's locker room, and finished stocking the fridge.

After locking up, he was halfway to the bus stop when his phone's text alarm went off.

From: Crybaby

Hi Mr. Seo. I was just wondering when my next training session is scheduled?

#a birthday present from me to y'all #Changbin smut #pwp #except yes plot #¯\ (ツ) /¯#skz smut #Changbin x unnamed MC

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tommy-kinard-buckley · 6 months

Text

This is for chapter 3 of my second saddest fic called I can't, take it, my heart's breaking, please don't say it

He saw EJ standing in the doorway crying. Carlos got up, walked over to EJ and pulled him into a tight hug. They stood there hugging and crying together for 10 minutes. When they separated Carlos walked out of the room and EJ sat beside Ricky. Carlos didn't make it out of the hall before breaking. He slid down the wall next to the door. TK walked over to Ricky's room to see if Carlos needed anything. He noticed someone sitting next to the door. TK couldn't see the person's face because it was between their knees. He then recognized the person from the uniform, TK hadn't been able to convince Carlos to go home yet. “Baby are you okay?” TK lightly touched Carlos's shoulder to get him to look up at him. Carlos looked like a mess and it broke TK’s heart. TK knew that a person is never this distraught over a brother. “Carlos I hate to ask you this, but is it really just a family connection with Ricky?” TK didn't want to jump to conclusions but also had to know. “Ty, how would you feel if the person you always turned to for help attempted suicide? Ricky has been there for me through everything. He was the one who encouraged me to come out to my parents. He helped me love the body I'm in during a time where I hated my appearance. And I just found out that I wasn't there when he needed help.” TK didn't know about everything Ricky did for Carlos. TK knew that high School was dark for Carlos but he didn't know it was that dark. He didn't know that Carlos once hated how he looked. TK never knew why Carlos wouldn't show him high School photos. “Babe, do you still hate how you looked back then?” TK also helped Carlos stand up so that he could sit in an actual chair. TK's heart broke when Carlos nodded his head at the question. “Sort of, I don't hate it anymore but I do feel like it wasn't my best look.” TK once again attempted to get Carlos to go home and rest. “Carlos, you look a mess. Let's go home so you can change and get some sleep, okay?” TK expected Carlos to refuse and was shocked when he didn't. “You're right, I really need some sleep, a shower and some actually edible food.” They were about to leave the hospital when they saw Gina crying. She was getting water so she had her back to them. Carlos lightly touched her shoulder to get her to turn around. Gina looked just as bad as Carlos did and it worried TK. “Gina, when was the last time you ate anything, or got any sleep, or even showered?”

No pressure tags below

@alrightbuckaroo @rmd-writes @firstprince-history-huh @cold-blooded-jelly-doughnut @carlos-in-glasses @paperstorm @goodways @reyesstrand @reeeallygood @carlos-tk @thisbuildinghasfeelings

#carlos reyes #tk strand #tarlos #911 ls fic #ej caswell #gina porter #hsmtmts fic

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capsensislagamoprh · 12 days

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CHA 5

Christophe knew a lot of people. He knew fashion designers trying to make it, models desperate for a gig, crew looking for anyone to sign off on production work just for the college credit, and he knew how to get them together at a moment's notice. What he couldn’t do was recreate the missing designs. Victor had been absolutely distraught to realize that some of his pieces were positively wrecked by the move, while other less spectacular pieces made it through just fine. In the end, he was left with a set of angora sweaters, slimline slack jeans - or sheans, as he liked to call them - that combined the elegance of high end office wear with the durability of street fabrics, and a single pair of sheer socks he’d made from scraps of a disastrous attempt to make panty hose more fun and less annoying.

It was a frantic week of pulling fabrics, bolt by bolt, from boxes, tubes, and any piece of clothing that had been destroyed, trying to make something new, exciting, something that would not only delight the senses, but bring some whimsy into an otherwise very monotone world. Why everyone thought beige was the be-all, end-all of the last two seasons, he wasn’t sure, but come hell or high water, he’d see this change. “Don’t get me wrong,” he babbled to the man behind the counter, “it’s a fine color. It has its place. But so much? All the time. Non. It’s - how you say?” Victor waved a hand in front of his face, letting his jaw go slack, eyes blank. “Steklyannyy pritsel?”

“Terne?” came a voice rich as clotted cream. “Means dull, boring.”

Victor turned, eyes bright. “Yes! This is the word!” It was the man in the jeans. The delicate blond boy was standing with his hands behind his back by a selection of buttons, looking exceptionally bored. He must have noticed Victor’s flicker of recognition. His eyes were beautiful. Long lashed, blue, wide and earnest. Not just any blue. Cobalt. They caught the light in just such a way… “Hello,” Victor said with his friendliest smile.

“Hello. Sorry, I didn't mean to step in. You just seemed to be a little lost with the language.”

“Oh, yes. It mixes with the others sometimes. Ty govorish' po-russki?”

The man winced. “Not that well, if I’m being honest. Knew someone who spoke it pretty well. Taught me a few phrases, some things here and there.”

“But that’s marvelous! Learning something new is never out of style,” Victor purred. The boy by the buttons huffed, turning his head away. “Your … son?”

“Ah. Yes. He’s supposed to be choosing the buttons to fix his shirt with,” Mr. Cobalt Eyes said with a slight frown. The boy turned slowly towards the display again, grabbing four sets of ladybug shaped novelty buttons, handing them to … Victor really needed to find out who this handsome man was.

“Victor, by the way. Nikiforov.” He made a move to lean on the pile of fabrics being measured and weighed, casual interest in his gaze.

“Trent. Trent Dale.” He put a firm hand on the boy’s shoulder. “This is Yuri.” The boy stared at Victor, eyes as viridian as the sea. Vivid colors ran in the family, it seemed.

“Nice to meet you, Yuri.” The boy said nothing, clutching the buttons tightly. “He must have his mother’s hair,” Victor added, trying to prolong the conversation. Trent was tall, and handsome in a corporate way. Victor could almost see him dressed in suits, polished shoes gleaming as he stepped from his bedroom, freshly showered, smelling like the promise of sex and money. Yuri frowned, shuffling uncomfortably. Victor realized he had missed something Trent was saying.

“ - it’s okay, though. We get by. Don’t we Yuri?” He shook the boy’s shoulder, jostling a mumbled nonsense out of him.

“Oh, well, I suppose that’s all we can do,” Victor covered smoothly. “Try to get by. So, what happened to the buttons?”

“Oh, that. Small accident. Popped one. It got lost in the shuffle, I suppose. Rather than walk around with one missing, we decided to replace them all. Although, I don’t know about ladybugs. Little out of place, don’t you think?” Trent addressed the last half to Victor, half to Yuri. The boy stiffened, looking at the buttons as if trying to figure out if he wanted to fight about it or not. Victor took pity.

“I think it adds a bit of whimsy to the design. As long as the colors don't clash horribly, it just makes it fun.” Crouching to be more at the boy’s eye level, he shone a smile that bent his lips in at the bow. “What color is the shirt?”

Yuri glanced at Trent who nodded. “It’s black,” Yuri answers in a bite that seemed to cut off the rest of his sentence.

“Is it a dress shirt?” Yuri nodded. “A black dress shirt. Full sleeves? Bit of a wider collar?” The blond’s eyes widened. He shook his head. Another glance at Trent, then he turned back to Victor, swaying towards him just that little bit. “It’s got a mandarin collar, and it’s trimmed in red, Like the cuffs, and it’s long.”

“Is the black very shiny?”

Yuri wrinkled his nose. “No.”

Victor couldn’t tell if that little pout was because he wanted it to be shiny, or if the boy was offended by the very idea. His eyes burned as he looked at the fabrics, then lowered his head to look at the buttons he was clutching. “Well, in that case, ladybug buttons would be perfect. A little pop of color to accentuate what’s already there, and a little childhood wonder. Snakes and snails, yes? Why not some insects too? Particularly when they…” Victor��s mind went blank, searching for the word. “Slivat'sya? Sootvetstvovat'?” he muttered.

“Da. Oni podoydut i ne slishkom bol'shiye…” The words trailed off as Yuri stepped back, biting his lower lip. Victor beamed. “You speak po-russki very well,” he chimed, throwing a glance to Trent as the boy clammed up. “Well…” Standing, Victor looked over his shoulder at the clerk neatly packaging his trims and notions. “If you ever need button advice again…”

“Be hard to ask if I don’t have any way to contact you,” Trent smiled. Those teeth were so white, Victor could have gone blind.

“Oh! Yes.” Snatching one of the store's business cards, he pulled a fabric flower from the display vase, revealing it to be a pen in clever disguise. Jotting down a number with a small winky face holding fingers up in a peace sign, Victor handed it over. “I’ll be busy for a week or two, but I'm free after that.”

Trent looked at the card curiously. “Interesting.” Then those blue, blue eyes glanced at the many bags. “Making something big?”

“Massive,” Victor purred. Then he chuckled. “I’m making my spring collection. Again.”

“You’re a fashion designer?”

“I will be. I’m at PCA.”

Trent gave an impressed little nod, considering Victor. “A hard school to get into.”

“I did my best. I am going to take on the world, one fashion disaster at a time.” He spared Yuri a conspiratorial wink.

“I look forward to seeing it.” Trent’s easy smile almost had Victor walking out of the shop without his copious amount of goods.

____

CHA 6

Victor spent the next three days bent over the kitchen table, back aching, hands smudged, eyes strained as he littered the floor with rejected designs and sketches. He had his originals, but they were old, and while there was something he could draw from them, there was no joy in the way they lingered on old problems, previous mistakes. Instead he pulled the idea of it from the place it originally came. The jumpsuit - that recalled a particular night at a club that ran well into the next morning, having to face down an unforgiving instructor and her brutal, soul crushing constructive criticisms - needed a refit. A modern twist that fit more than the desperate need to not look like he’d been wearing the drink stained clothes from the night before under it. It was giving him problems. Jumpsuits were pretty much fashionable or made you look like a dock worker. It was hair pulling maddening.

“Min vän,” Christophe cooed, sliding a cup of warm tea under Victor’s nose. “This is not good for you. You need to rest. Let your mind recover, gain inspiration.”

“I’ve tried, Chris! I tried,” Victor cried, using the cup to warm his hands. “I just…” His lips drew tight as he threw his feet on the seat of his chair, folding in on himself. Leaning against the wall, Victor closed his eyes. “It’s not working.”

“Okay.” Christophe drew a chair over, sitting close. “Tell me what you were thinking when you created it?”

“I didn’t want to throw up on my presentation, and I wanted to pass.”

Christophe scoffed. “Sure. We all want that. What was really going on?”

Victor searched his mind for a witty segway only to come up flat. Sighing, he set the cup down. “I just wanted to hide. I’d done something stupid,” Christophe’s mock shocked expression withstanding, it felt good to be able to speak about that very strange twenty four hours. “I’d been stressing about finals.”

“As you do.”

“As I do. I needed to get out, clear my head. I let myself get talked into going to the club.”

Christophe shrugged. “Nothing wrong with a little fun.”

“At nine p.m. On a Tuesday. During finals week. The night before my organic harvesting and natural fiber production's economic impact on the future of fashion presentation.”

Christophe winced. “You spent months agonizing over that! The late night calls, the desperate pleas for help researching.”

“It wasn’t that bad,” Victor muttered.

“The way you sobbed into your sketches when you couldn’t find drafter blue pencils.”

“The color disappears once ink is overlaid! They’re worth their weight in rubles!”

“Your sudden desire to become an oil rigger to avoid the whole section on soil erosion, and sustainability.”

“It’s a touchy topic.”

“Your inability to admit you were addicted to lattés for a whole month.”

“I didn’t know four a day would make me gain six pounds, okay?!”

“Sure it wasn’t the stress eating?”

Victor shoved him with his foot. “As I was saying!” Christophe smiled into his cup, eyes sparkling. Victor huffed before leaning back against the wall with a little wiggle. “There was this guy, and he was just… so fine. Strong, and firm, and - “ Victor sucked in his bottom lip, biting down on it as he made a little grunting sound.

“Sure sounds like it,” Christophe grinned.

“I thought so… until I woke up to the sound of him talking to someone while I was in his bed.” Christophe winced. “Same old song and dance, da? One night stand, already committed, and torn between tearing through, setting everything aflame, and slinking away, tail between legs.”

“I take it you went with option two?”

“I went with option two.” His head hit the wall when he threw it back. Rubbing the spot, he crossed his legs, sitting up more in the chair. “My clothes were covered in spilled drink and… other things.” Christophe nodded sympathetically. “I needed something to cover it up. I found a jumpsuit in this awful tan color just hanging on the line outside, and took it. I spent the whole rush to campus trying to find things to style it, and just went with using it as part of the presentation. Added a whole bit about how sustainability was good, but it couldn’t be allowed to cover individuality, and sort of…” He made a motion indicating he’d unzipped it from neck to crotch.

“How did that work out for you?”

“I got a pass, so not too bad.”

“I’ll bet you did,” Christophe winked. “Well, as thrilling as that story is, what are you going to do about this?” He motioned to the design. “It’s not too complicated. Pants are a bit much. Maybe shorts?”

Victor sat up. “Shorts. Christophe! You’re a genius!”

“Naturally. Why?”

“Shorts! If I turn the pants into shorts with a roll cuff, side strap buckles to hold them up, they become adjustable, allowing for more range of use. Increase the drop of the collar, add a little extra here so it flaped to the side in open neck mandarin, a-la-militare, add whimsy with the buttons and piping at the edges… a wide belt with a buckle that has shine, little sparkle with the accessories… Look at this!”

Christophe peaked over Victor’s arm to see the sketch produced. “Loose top kitten heeled boots, scrunched socks with pops of color… you know min vän, you may make a fashion designer yet.”

cha 1&2, cha 3&4

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nol0nqerhuman · 11 months

Text

GHOSTIN’

one fateful day a student from JYP University goes missing. Lee Minho is a dance major, on October 31, 2023 he goes missing. Luckily for him a journalism student cares enough to look for him with the victim’s friends.

master list

October 31, 2023, students were rushing out classrooms and study halls to get ready for parties or get-together’s, others were going to cafes with friends to get a warm coffee as the cold was starting to settle in. Minho on the other hand was going to his dorm, staying in deciding to work on whatever he felt like even after multiple attempts from his friends trying to get him to go to some stupid party.

‘Come on Minho, you never go out anywhere’ Hyunjin begged, ‘If you don’t I will literally die.’ Please, pretty pretty pretty please with a cherry on top’ Changbin dragged out. Minho could only look at him with a pout and said no. ‘Alright man see you tomorrow I guess’ Chan said as they walk away leaving him alone.

By the time he reached his dorm it was sunset, as he walked in he felt a shiver down his spine….like something bad was about to happen. “Felix are you here?” he called out but quickly realized he said he was going to the party at Yeji’s house. He dropped his stuff down and went to his room. There was really nothing to see; a bed, desk and night stand. He went into the bathroom and began to undress himself, stepping into the shower he felt water flow on his body, it was nights like these he enjoyed most, his thoughts being drowned out by the calming sensation of the water, comfort that came with being alone, he felt so at peace but he couldn’t get rid of the nagging feeling that something was wrong. Stepping out of the shower and getting dressed, he went into the kitchen and opened it the fridge. Empty. He groaned in annoyance and took out his phone to message Felix.

| theres nothing to eat

| oh mb i forgot it was my turn to get groceries

| it’s fine i’ll just get them myself

| omg ty i owe you

seen 9:55pm

He quickly put on some slippers and left for the supermarket. Walking down the sidewalk which was empty because of all the parties accruing, it was relatively easy to get to the store. Grabbing a hand-held cart he skimmed through isles getting the things he needed. By the time he left it was 10:20 and it was dark outside, light only being available from the flickering streetlights. Halfway back to his dorm though, his bag ripped and all his stuff spilled. a majority of it however was thrown into the forest which was much more farther away. Walking around he had managed to find most of his stuff except for his noodles which was the only ‘meal’ he bought. He walked deeper into the forest but couldn’t help but feel as thought it was wrong, he brushed it off ‘I’m just being paranoid, there’s nothing except deer in here’, he began to walk more but he didn’t even walk two steps before he heard rustling, he was in a clearing but surrounded by trees, whatever was there could see him but he couldn’t see it. Suddenly he heard a high pitched ringing, so loud he dropped everything to cover his hears and began to squint his eyes, not wanting to close them unless something was there. The noise was unusual, instead of coming from a specific direction it surrounded him and suffocated him. His heart was racing, his senses were overwhelmed. Then it stopped. The ringing stopped but what came was worse a seven foot tall being came to his view, it was made of charred flesh and bone, it’s head was what belongs on a boar and it’s fingers were long and sharp, sharp enough to kill….Minho couldn’t find it in him to move, to run to Yeji’s house and join the party even if his mind was scarred, he should have gone, he should have never stayed at home, he should have gone with Chan, Changbin, Hyunjin, and Felix. But he didn’t and now he was here, facing a monster. He felt cold so extremely cold, like all the blood left his body, he just stared, stared in fear as he wondered why he couldn’t move or why he didn’t go to they party. He stared as he saw the figure lunge at him and claw at his body, tearing his flesh and taking his life, he just stared, motionless, lifeless, dead. He didn’t even scream….

#skz lee know #lee minho x reader #lee know #lee minho #college au #bang chan #skz felix #stray kids #skz changbin #skz hyunjin #skz stay #jypartists #fanfic

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piratekane · 2 years

Text

Lucy looks around the restaurant. It's a little pricier than she'd usually go for on a first date - especially a blind one. But Jesse said this woman wasn't like the other ones he had set her up with. She was more sophisticated, apparently. Lucy didn't really believe it because Jesse also said that about the last girl. And she had slurped on crab legs, loudly, and chewed with her mouth open. Maybe she needs to stop letting Jesse set her up.

This one is different, he had promised her. So here she was in her nicest pair of dark jeans and a ironed shirt, looking around what might be an over-priced restaurant for a "tall, blonde woman with gorgeous eyes" named... Dammit, think. She nods to herself. Right. Kim.

She spots a woman sitting at a table towards the back, facing away from her. Lucy takes a deep breath and nods towards her when the hostess asks if she's made a reservation and starts to weave through the tables towards the woman. Lucy slows down as she gets closer. The woman is playing with a napkin, folding it into squares on the table. Long slender fingers reach for the water glass on the table and Lucy figures it's now or never. Jesse is supposed to call a half hour in to give her a chance to claim a work emergency and get out of here. She can at least get through an appetizer.

"Kim?" she asks hesitantly as she steps up to the table.

The woman turns.

Oh.

"I’m-," the woman starts.

Lucy pushes on. “I’m so sorry I’m late. I tried to get here as fast as I could.”

Kim pushes her chair back like she might stand up but seemingly decides not to, a hand shooting out to take Lucy's instead.

Kim smiles tightly but it doesn't stop her from being probably the prettiest woman Lucy has seen in the last few months. You weren't lying about the eyes, Jesse, she thinks. Lucy blinks and realizes she's been staring, hastily taking the seat across from Kim.

"I'm so sorry,” she says again. “Work ran over and I had to go home and change." She waves a hand dismissively and smiles. "Don't we all get sidetracked with work?"

"I try to be punctual."

Lucy's smile falters for a second. "I'm usually better about being on time. My job has some pretty hectic work hours."

Kim seems to realize how her statement came across and the line of her shoulders soften. "You're in..."

"Government," Lucy supplies. It's easier than going through what NCIS stands for, what they do - and don't do. Government has been her go-to answer for all of these dates. And it bores women enough that Lucy doesn't have to spend too much time on it.

Kim looks surprised. "So am I."

Lucy smiles. "See, we already have something in common."

“I was surprised,” Kim starts slowly. “I thought-”

“Are you Kate?” a loud voice asks, booming over them.

Kim startles a little, water spilling from her glass. Lucy grabs on the cloth napkins and fruitlessly tries to mop it up even as it sinks into the tablecloth.

A woman in a hot pink dress with her hair piled high on her head snaps a piece of gum between her teeth and looks at Kim expectantly. She taps her foot and the silverware rattles a little on the table. “You look like your picture.”

Lucy looks between them, confusion building. The woman snaps her gum again and Kim seems to flinch at the sound.

Lucy’s frown deepens. “This is Kim.”

“Kate,” the woman says. She opens her fluorescent yellow purse, rooting around for something. “I have your picture right here. Your friend Cara gave it to me. She says ‘hi,’ by the way.”

Kim’s hands start to twist in the napkin she’s holding, tying it around her fingers in tight little knots that unravel as soon as she starts to fidget again. “I’m sorry, I-”

Lucy almost reaches out and touches Kim’s hand, to see if it settles her down any. She can see the panic rising in her eyes. She doesn’t know Kim very well but she knows people. And this person is going to spiral into nervousness in a second.

“You’ll have to excuse Kim,” Lucy says smoothly. “She’s Kate identical twin. They’re always doing this to people.” She laughs, the sound bright and fake. The woman frowns, as if she’s noticing Lucy for the first time. “Kate wasn’t able to come, so she gave us your reservation. You didn’t get her message?”

The woman’s hand drops from her purse. “No, I didn’t.”

“Classic Kate,” Lucy shakes her head fondly. She flashes Kim a quick smile. “I’m sure she meant to. She had a case of… what was it called? Aquagenic urticaria. It came on really quickly.”

“Aquage-”

“-Nic urticaria, yeah.” Lucy nods, face solemn. “Terrible, really.”

The woman’s eyes narrow in thought. Lucy holds her breath as she sees the words bounce around the woman’s mind before her eyes widen. “I think my cousin, Tony, had a case of that. Never really recovered from it. Still has the side effects. That’s gotta explain the drinking.”

Lucy sighs heavily. “Once you contract it, you never really recover.” The woman nods along. “But we’ll be sure to pass along your apologies,” Lucy says after a second.

“‘Course.” The woman snaps her gum again. “It’s a shame. You two are cute, for twins.”

For twins, Lucy mouths at Kim. She quickly turns her attention back to the woman when she picks up one of the butter knives and holds it out, checking her teeth.

The woman winks at her reflection and puts down the knife. “Well, tell her Lola said ‘hi’ and that I hope she feels better. Aquaponics sounds like the pits.” Lola doesn’t wait another second, turning on her heel and sending her long, flowing, hot pink dress up around her. She power walks through the tables, leaving them behind.

Lucy blinks rapidly, her mind trying to catch up with the whirlwind left behind. She opens her mouth and closes it again quickly before she turns back to the woman across the table. “So… Not Kim.”

Not-Kim smiles sheepishly. “No.”

“Kate,” Lucy says quietly, working the name over in her mind. She looks at Kate. At her eyes and the flush of her cheeks and the way she’s biting on her bottom lip just a little and she decides - she’ll have to get Jesse to give the real Kim her regards.

She holds out her hand again and smiles. “I’m Lucy.”

“Hi, Lucy.” Kate smiles back. “It’s nice to meet you.”

#this has been sitting in my google docs for god knows how long #so i'm sending it out into the world #ncis: hawai’i #kate whistler #lucy tara #kacy #do i personally know a woman like this yes i do i work with her 40 hours a week and god bless her heart it is always in the right place #but would i run if i saw her coming to my dinner table at a restaurant by god i would hide #maybe this idea isn't a bad one but it's not one that's going to get written any better than this SO enjoy fellas

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my-only-way-tocooperatewithlife · 2 years

Text

One more drink XII. -Pierre Gasly series

Hello everyone! :)

I'm back, I have partied myself out.

After you turn 20 years old I think it's getting harder to stay up longer especially parties, you need more time to recover. But after 25..... and you dance the whole night from 10pm till 3am...😂😂 You feel like you are dying, everything hurts. But it was worth it totally.☺☺

Thank you guys for all the likes and reblogs, and for your patience. Hope you will like this one too.

Love you ♥

Pairing: Pierre Gasly x fem!reader

warning: swearing, language, mention of depression, alcohol usage, smut

Masterlist

— Previous part — —Next part —

~ Budapest, Hungary ~

After the race I have left Italy the next day due to that Roxy's wedding will be on friday, and as one of the bridesmaid I have had a lot of things to do till that day.

Just the usual things like getting nails done, going to the hairdresser for a touch up. I have had some errands to run for the bar also, on Thursday night I was driving back to my place when my phone rang.

"Hi doll." Pierre's voice came through of the car's speaker. I loved his pet names for me, it always made me blush. I love that we could spend days together and even if I missed him a lot during the time we could not manage to meet up we still Facetimed or texted during the day. Even if we have spend days together we could still understand and respect if the other one needed alone time, and we did not make a huge deal about it.

"Hi" I yawned as I was sitting in the traffic jam not too far away from my apartment. The sound of a windshield wiper filling the car as it steadily wiped away the drops of water, it was showering out there, you can definetly feel that summer is over.

"You sound really tired."

"I feel exhausted. I was running around all day, the supplier forgot our order for the bar so I was driving all day around the city picking up all the things I have ordered. Also we went to the last fitting for Roxy's dress and we have took that one home too. I have the bridemaid dress in the trunk, it's perfectly fitting and it's so pretty. And now I'm like five minutes away from home, but the traffic is terrible."

"That's perfect because I'm soaking wet."

"What?"

"I'm standing at your entrance for the last ten minutes, but it started to rain and..."

"You were supposed to come on Friday morning."

"I was about to scare you like you did with me but I did not calculate the rain in..."

"I'm there in a minute." I ended the call with a huge smile on my face. This guy is unbeliveable. I shook my head as I parked the car and jogged to the entrance. He was waiting for me with open arms and I run to him into his embrace. "Come, I don't want you to get sick." I grabbed his hand and pulled him inside.

We were currently sitting at the hotel room with the hairdressers and make up artists going around us. My make up was done the hairdresser was about to pin up my hair to a half updo when I heard a knock on the door.

"What's the password?" I walked closer to the door without opening it.

"I don't know babe, probably that I'm not the groom." Pierre laughed from the other side of the door and I opened it just a little and poked my head out.

"We are only in our underware."

"And you have not told me this earlier? I would have got my make up done if I can have three women around me in their underware. " He joked and laughed as I smacked his upper arm.

"Let's meet at the room, I'm nearly finished okay?" He leaned closer and pecked a small kiss on my lips before he nodded and started to walk away.

-----------------------------------------------------------

"I need your help a little bit with my shoes." I called for him from the bathroom, as I was struggling putting my high heels on. " I can't bend down because of the corset is squeezing out my internals." I giggled as I walked out and seeing him sitting on the ottoman at the end of the bed tying his shoes. I stopped at the door of the bathroom and I was just staring at him. That white shirt with the suit looked incredible on him. He looked so elegant and beautiful and of course mouthwateringly hot.

"Like what you see amour?" He joked as he was finishing with his shoes before he looked up. "Oh wow..." His eyes were going up and down in my emerald green long flowy infinity dress (x) that was custom made for us. "You are breathtakingly beautiful." His eyes finally came on contact with mine and he let a smile on his face. I felt the heat is growing in my cheeks and I looked down on my feet while I was dangling my shoes in my hand. "What were you saying about helping you?"

"I can't put my shoes on, Viki pulled that damn corset so much I can't even breath. But at least my boobs look perfect in it." I giggled as I looked at the mirror and feeling proud of the cleavage that the dress made me have. Pierre got up and walked closer to me as he took the shoes out of my hand and got on his knees. Lifted the end of the dress and softly grabbed one of my ankle to help me in the shoes. I gripped on his shoulder for stabeling myself as he help me.

"Done." He got up and smiled at me. " You are still tiny but your boobs does look nice." He kissed my forehead with a cheeky smile. He tucked a piece of hair behind my ear from my updo before laid a small kiss on my lips. "Hope that not just your mascara is waterproof but that lipstick is smudge proof too, beacause I can't keep myself from kissing you." He whispered before laid a few more kisses on my lips.

"Hey lovebirds! " Ádám push the door open " Come we have a wedding to attend!"

-------------------------------------------------------------

The ceremony was beautiful. The place where the wedding was held had a huge lake with a tiny island on the middle of it, and that's where Roxy and her now husband tied their life together. I was really happy that the make up artist put on us some waterproof mascara because I was crying the whole ceremony. It was beautiful, the way her husband looked at her on the first time, and during the whole ceremony is just every girls dream a man would look at them like that. After the ceremony everyone moved to the venue where the party will be held. "They are so beautiful." I whispered as we were watching them having there first dance on the dancefloor. Pierre hugged me from behind and rested his chin on my shoulder. "I cant't believe my best friend who I know since we are kids is married.... And oh god they have started to talk about kids too." I sighed and leaned back to Pierre's chest more as we were swaying left to right to the rythm of the music.

"It's scary that we are growing up." He mumbeled in my neck and laid some small kisses there. "But that's life, and the best part is is if we can find someone that we can be as happy as them. They are just so in love with eachother." He murmured in my ears as he squeezed my hand. "Do you want to dance?" He asked as the pair left and everyone started to mingle around the dance floor and between the tables too.

"Wait, we agreed with Roxy that we will take a shot after the ceremony finished." Viki grabbed our arm keeping us there. The pair fought their way through the crowd, and jumped in our arms.

"Babes I'm married, fully commited to the one dick for the rest of my life club." She screamed in our ears as she was squeezing us hard.

"You know what does this mean, yea?" I looked at her husband poking his side as he was chatting with Pierre. " Your package has arrived. You just won two sisters. Two loud ones. Now we take one of our hands of her, our job of keeping her secure is done, we hand it over you." I squeezed his hand ad I was blinking fast trying to force the tears back, but as I saw that his eyes got watery too, I lost it. He grabbed both of our hands and pulled closer to his torso, and squezed us thightly in a hug.

"I always wanted sisters and I could never wish a better sisters like the two of you. Thank you girls for everything." he giggled and kissed both of our heads. "So I have heard something about a shot.." He wondered when one of the waiters appeared with a tray full off shot glasses with a clear liquid inside of it. " I ordered from the venue tequila just because of you girls." He looked at us as he gave out the glasses one by one.

"Egi! Cheers!" We all knocked our glasses together and drunk the burning liquid. From this point we have had multipule shots and other alchoholic beverages. It was around midnight and everyone was dancing around or chatting at the tables. The band was playing fantastic, they were mixing slower songs with faster ones, retro 80's and 90's hits with typical hungarian ones too. After the dinner we were dancing and singing for the whole night. I was pretty sure that tomorrow I will have no voice left. Of course we could not skip some ABBA songs, and made a total perfomance with my other two friends, which will definetly be in the video that the staff was making. The time was around midnight when I sat down at our table trying to catch my breath.

"Okay, so now I have seen half of a hungarian wedding what else can I expect?" Pierre asked as he was drinking his beer?

"Oh the best part, we have to sell the bride." I chuckled at his surprised expression. "It's about that this is the last chance that she is dancing in the wedding dress before it's midnight, bevause after midnight she will turn into a wife. But this is not for free. It sounds weird I know but this is a really old tradition. So when the dancing will start each person, or couple or family who wants to dance with the bride one more time, they have to put money in. We usually say that with this the bride can gather some money back which was spend for the wedding and they can have some spare for starting the life together."

"Oh, first it sounds weird but actually that's a pretty funny tradition. Do you think they would accept euro?" Pierre joked as he opened his wallet and pullet some banknote out, I tilted my head back as I laughed.

"Yea now I think it's better to invest in euro rather in hungarian forints."

He got really excited about this whole bride dancing, so when it started he grabbed my hand and pulled me up from the chair. He was the third pesron after the close family who put the money in the bucket and grabbed my hand and Roxy's hand for dancing. All I was feeling was happiness, seeing him this free and happy made me just more happier. He seemed like he was having so much fun.

As Pierre and I were on the side of the dance floor dancing to the beat of the music, his hands were on my lower back as my arms were around his neck as we were stepping side to side to the slowmusic.

"Thank you for coming with me."

"You don't need to thank me, I have to thank you that you have invited me. I needed this to relax a little bit. Especially after Monza." He pulled me closer and hid his face in my neck. "You were amazing there, I know you wanted a better result but you did an amazing job, I was so proud of you!" I took a step back and grabbed the side of his face to make him look into my eyes. "I'm proud of you, okay?" I whispered before he gave me a small smile and nodded and pulled me closer to kiss me.

"You are an amazing person. I'm so lucky that I have met you." He whispered on my lips before connecting our lips in a deep kiss.

---------------------------------------------------------------

"You know, I have never imagined that I will like my little sister's boyfriend, and I have never dreamed about that my little sister will date a celebrity." Ádám shook is head as we were standing close to the bar with my other siblings and chatting.

"Oh so you like him?" I pouted my lips as I looked at him with big eyes.

"Yes but don't get it in your head Gasly! I don't want to hear it tonight and never in my life that you are doing any funny adult business, is it clear?" he pointed his finger at us as I just leaned back at Pierre's torso and laughed letting my head fall back on his shoulder, when I saw a flash light not from far away.

"You guys were sooo cute, I wanted to take a photo of it but it got a little blurry."Viki pulled her mouth as she was showing us the picture.

"Can you send it over to me?" Pierre asked and Viki just nodded opening her messages.

It was around three in the morning when everyone started to go back to the hotel rooms, and as the last ones we could not say longer too. We were walking to our room hand in hand definetly not walking straight to the way of our room giggling about a few stupid things. "I will have a shower okay?" Pierre looked at me as he was already in the bathroom. "Wanna come?"

"I think I'm way too tired for anything." I sighed as I took the bobby pins and the other things out of my hair letting it loosy fall on my back. During the night I have changed the bridesmaid dress to a similar coloured dress and I changed my higheels to a much comfier sandals but still my feet were still killing me. I was waiting for him to finish at the bathroom and I was scrolling on my phone when my eyes got stucked at one post.

"With this girl I have many first things with. First metal concert in my life, first hungarian wedding. Can't wait to have many more firsts with you"

Said the caption of the picture it was the one that Viki took of us hugging and laughing at the same time. I saw that it was not a long time ago posted but it had so many likes and comments already. I clicked on the comments and I got floded by so many of them.

"OMG they are soooo cute" "Who is she??????" "OMG she is that girl from the hungarian grand prix with that F1 bar, where Charles and the other hanged out!" "Isn't she the one who was posted some pictures about in Belgium at that balcony?" "Oh yea, she is! But who is she really?" "I have her profile it's private but: @ itsmeginahun"

I put my phone down as it started to blow up wit the many following and message request.

"Is everything okay?" Pierre walked out of the bathroom with just a towel around his hips. I swallowed big as my eyes ran through on his body. I shook my head to wake myself up from the daydreaming.

"Guess they found out who is the misterious girl from the balcony."

"I should have ask you about it before posting." He was frowning as he walked closer to his suitcase taking a boxer out.

"It's okay, so now I can post from my account too." I smiled as I passed him and slapped his bare ass as I giggled and closed the bathroom's door.

Taglist:

@vividwritinglove

#pierre gasly x oc #f1 imagine #pierre gasly #pierre gasly imagine #f1 fanfic #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 x reader #pierre gasly x y/n #pierre gasly x reader #pierre gasly x you #f1 smut #f1 fandom #f1 fanfiction #pg10

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cillspropertea · 1 year

Text

No Fucking way

Chapter 7: Awkward dinners and broken glasses

Marie asked me again and again that, if something had happened between the two of us, no matter how many times I lied to her that it hadn’t. I could not recognize or remember buying any of the cloths which were ‘apparently’ mine. Cillian was definitely upset, and he had all the right to be. He wanted me to choose him. Choose ‘us’. Before coming here I was pretty sure that I had made the right decision but now I wasn’t so sure. I wanted to run to him and assure him that I’ll be back but who am I kidding! I am such a mental mess right now, and giving him false hope would be truly cruel. Maybe this was a good thing, like ripping off a sticky bandage from a hairy arm. Okay, that was not the best kind of example to be used to explain your damaged-almost-done relationship. I just wanted to roll into a ball and cry myself to more sleep. But I didn’t. Instead I continued packing the non-formal cloths I was able to find in the closet into the two suitcases. During the said packing, I came across a not so small drawer which had a good amount of neatly piled undergarments. And I’m talking about the really erotic kind, the thought of me wearing them in front of Cillian made me blush. It took me back to a conversation I had had with my friend a long time ago…

“Never will I ever be in love with someone so much that I would wear stuff like this to please him. Look at it! It looks like a torturing device!” I winced holding up a purple thong Monica had put in her basket from the lingerie aisle. “It’s not painful! Just a bit technical really.�� She shrugged making me roll my eyes. “Does Timothy actually like this? Like it turns him on?” I smiled, teasingly. I had been in relationships but quite early on I had sub-consciously decided not to have too high hopes for the future. The idea of marriage repelled me. Just thinking of tying myself to one person for a lifetime made me feel suffocated. So I had had many one night stands and a week or two long relationships but never had I been serious enough with someone to think of marriage. Timothy and Monica, on the other hand, had been dating, off and on, since high school. But every breakup seemed to sort of make their relationship stronger. “Oh yeah! You have no idea Y/N. It is sort of like a game. He has some really favorite ones which I use as a weapon when we are fighting…” She looked up and smiled at my scrunched up face. “You know it’s actually cool. Being in a relationship. Knowing you have someone dependable on your back. Who loves you and takes care of you…” I shook my head, “Please Monica! You know I’m a lone-ranger. Plus, it’s not just about depending on someone. That other person starts depending on you too! They start having these expectations too! Don’t you feel burdened when Timothy expects you to cook every day for him even though you both work?” I said eying a box of 6 black cotton panties. Monica rolled her eyes, “But that is the beauty of it Y/N! I cook for him every day and yes, It is a responsibility which sometimes becomes a nuisance but I know that when I get sick or something, he would be there to take care of me. He would make that horrible 2-minute ramen noodle soup he’s so proud of, which tastes like shit really, he just adds extra water to make it ‘soupy’ but the effort always makes my heart swell…” She is lost in her thoughts. “Unlike when you get sick. You have to beg your sister or your friends to help you out. Or the other option, which is so much more like you, you simply suffer alone." That stung. But I shrugged it off as we walked towards the billing counter. Because it was true. I did that when I got sick. I hated depending on someone. It just wasn’t in my nature.

So what had changed now? How did my mind change so much that I did not only manage to get into a long-term relationship but also get married in the same danm year? I came back to the present when someone softly knocked on the door. Turning back, I saw Grace leaning in and frowning at the sheer garment I held in my hands, which I shoved back roughly into the drawer as fast as I could, blushing.

“Um, Mrs. Murphy… Mr. Murphy just wanted me to inform you that his family is on their way to meet you.”

“Calm down Y/N.” she reasoned.

“What?” I said, confused. Marie nodded and told Grace that we’ll be downstairs in a few moments while I mentally freaked out. “What the fuck am I going to say to them Marie?”

“Calm down? You’re asking me to calm down? Marie! I can’t face them. I just cannot face them!” I said absolutely losing my mind. I did not know them, at all! Had Cillian told them about me leaving? Had he told them about his ultimatum? Had he told them that I was still leaving? If he had then they must hate me, for sure. They were the ones who saw their son live a miserable and tortures life as I was in the coma for two fucking years! And now, if they have gotten to know that I’m leaving their son, after he waited for me for two whole years… God I feel so bad now.

“They are just coming to meet you Y/N. stop overthinking for once will ya?” Marie held my shoulders firmly as I realized I had been saying all of that aloud, shit! “Besides…” oh boy, here we go, “If you feel that bad for leaving him then don’t!” I rolled my eyes. “He deserves a chance Y/N…” I decided to walk out of there then and clean myself up a bit.

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I could hear people talking in the living room. I walked with my stick on wobbly legs. I had changed into a purple T-shirt but still wore the same jeans I had come in with. Grace had knocked a few minutes after I had changed and handed me a small velvet box saying Cillian wanted me to wear it “… just for tonight…” Opening it, I found a wedding ring and an engagement ring nestled in it. Without letting me overthink anything, I just took them out and wore them. They were gorgeous, especially the engagement ring. The wedding band was plain and simple but it perfectly complemented the engagement ring which had a big white stone in the middle.

“… I just simply don’t know what to say son…” I could hear an elderly male voice talking. “I have to admit, never in a million years I would have believed this story if someone had told me it was true. But here we are!” he continued.

“And on top of that she wants to leave. I mean what the hell!?” another male with a younger voice and a thicker Irish accent said.

“Why are you all hating on her like that, eh? I told you, she’s just leaving for a little while. The doctor said it’s good for her. Going back might help with the psychological healing…” finally Cillian spoke. ‘hate, hate, hate , hate’ my head was echoing with this word when an elderly female voice interrupted, “Stop it all of you. Rather than supporting him you are all giving him more stress.”

Oh wow! So I was right. They all did hate me. Taking a deep breath, I decided to stop eavesdropping and enter before I heard something I could not handle. As soon as I entered the conversation halted. They all stood up and stared at me as if they had just seen a ghost.

The first thing I noticed were the eyes. They all had eyes just like Cillian’s. Different shades of blue. His mothers were most similar to his. They all looked like they were pulled out of a T.V show. What a gene pool!

The silence stretched like the highway.

‘Fuck! Y/N! Say something!’

“Hi… I am Y/N?” I squeaked and mentally face-palmed myself. ‘

They know you dumbass. You are the one with the faulty brain not them!’

I could feel a drop of sweat rolling down my back. My mouth moved but no words were coming out.

‘Oh my! How awkward and cringe can this get…’

“Hey.” All of them said in sync. My palms were sweaty as I mentally decided to just excuse myself and leave. But then I felt a hand slide into mine. “Yeah, this is Y/N.” Cillian stood next to me as I mentally sighed with relief. “This is Eleanor, my mother. That’s Mathew, my Dad and that’s Paidi, my younger brother.” He introduced.

His intro didn’t only relax me but also brought the whole room on the same page. Of course they hadn’t thought this meeting through. In their heads they had already met me, had dinners with me, and been on the wedding. ‘God! How am I going to make this work and not look like a lunatic?’ I rubbed my temple but just then Cillian’s thumb started moving in circular motions under mine, reassuringly. “So, as I did tell you all, apparently Y/N over here hit her head a little too hard during the accident…” this made everyone chuckle. “…But it’s all good because she is fine. She can talk, walk and do everything else about which we should be grateful for.” And just like that, my worries vanished. What was I freaking out about when he was right here? I looked at him from the corner of my eye, so did he and through our eyes we decided that we would do this together. That this needed to be done together, as a couple.

----------

After that it was smooth sailing. Cillian’s family and me got acquainted, and in my case, re-acquainted. They talked about the wedding and how Paidi’s wife and kids couldn’t be here as she was not in the city. Marie joined us too and so did Mom. Cillian had asked his driver to pick her up from the hotel for the ‘last dinner together’. The farewell dinner. That was what it was. It was internally hurting my heart but I kept all the confusion hidden inside.

Grace announced that dinner was ready and asked us to move towards the dining table. The conversation flowed effortlessly but I just listened. It was so strange having strangers talk about their memories with you of which you had no recollection off. But still it was… interesting.

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Everyone was saying goodbyes in the living room as Marie and I helped Grace put the dishes in the trolley. I felt a soft tap on my shoulder and when I turned I found Eleanor behind me. “Can I talk to you dear? In private?” She smiled looking between me and Marie. “Of course…” Marie replied before I could and left, so did Grace. We both sat down on the dining table chairs. “Is everything okay?” I asked impatiently. “Well, I wanted to ask the same thing. Is everything okay between the two of you? Really?” my heart sped up. “I don’t understand Eleanor. Did I say something wrong or…” I mumbled. As far as I could remember, Cillian and I were being completely oblivious. We looked like a perfect couple really. Maybe that was what gave us away. We looked too perfect. “Oh no love. I…” she looked at her lap and then back up again, “This is just a concerned mother needing some assurance.” I sighed inwardly and whispered, “I see.” She moved her hands and clasped mine between them. “I just want to make sure you know what you are doing.” I must have looked puzzled so she continued, “I have seen Cillian when you were in the hospital. The way he was dying from the inside every single time his eyes fell on your lifeless body. And near the end, when I last visited him, I observed a change too. I felt like he had accepted the fact that you were never coming back. He was numb. But somehow I was feeling relieved to see a change in him. To know that he wasn’t just stuck. But now here we are…” The last part sounded enthusiastic but I got a feeling it wasn’t. “He is back to his old self again. And so is his hope. He believes he can make this work. That you both can make it work. And for his sake I wanted to put in a request to you. To give him a chance. Because if you don’t, if you break him one more time… I’m afraid that I’ll lose my son.” Her eyes were full of tears and I didn’t realize before that moment but, mine were too. I didn’t know how to respond to that. How do I deal with this? She looked at me, waiting. “I’ll do my best Eleanor.” I said. This seemed to be the answer she was looking for as she sniffled and dried her unshed tears. “Hey what are you guys doing here?” Cillian said entering and looking between the two of us. “Mum? What happened?” he looked concerned after observing her red, teary eyes. “Oh nothing. We were just discussing the old times.” She got up and made Cillian sit in her seat “Just give me a minute.” She said before vanishing into the bathroom. Cillian sat with a hand in his lap and looked at me. “Are you all packed up?” All the affection and love we were faking in front of everyone gone from his eyes. Gone or hiding. “Yes.” I mumbled. “Good.” He nodded to himself and walked out.

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After Cillian’s family left I suggested we leave for the hotel too but Marie said it would be much more convenient if we left for the airport from here. Cillian’s cars would help with the luggage and all. But somehow I found this reason to be a tad made up. She directed the driver to get Mum and hers, already packed bags from the hotel. So, that was that.

I felt really tired and it was pretty late too. We would only be getting a few hours of sleep as we had an early morning flight. Going into the guest bedroom where, Marie had settled in with the help of Grace, I walked in and opened my small medicine pouch from the nightstand only to find out that the water pitcher was empty. I looked sideways and sighed at my stick thinking of the stairway I would be stomping it down on.

Plus the idea of running into Cillian on my way worried me. ‘Oh no…’ Well, don’t get me wrong, I knew Cillian wasn’t a monster who would attack me as soon as he saw me. But I was actually worried for him. The whole evening I had been able to observe how even looking at me made him flinch. I did not want to cause him more pain by hinting at something, which I very much wanted to do at this late hour of the night, but knew that it wouldn’t be right.

But I had to have my medicine. Getting out of the room, I found Grace heading up to her room for the night. She turned when I called her name, “Yes Mrs. Murphy? Can I get you something?” I swear this woman called me that out of vengeance. “Yeah, um… no its fine. Surely you were going to your room to call it a day…” her old face genuinely looked tired, but she smiled, “Oh no Ma’am. It’s fine.” I nodded. “I was just going to get a glass of water. I just didn’t want to disturb Cillian” wow! That sounded way stupider than it sounded in my head. If she did not hate me before she would definitely hate me now. “I can get it for you…” She immediately turned and started walking downwards, “Oh no, I will get it myself.” She insisted still but then gave up when I refused every time. “Just to let you know, he isn’t at home right now. He went for a run just before I came up.” She added. “A run? At this hour?” “Oh he does that sometimes. To clear his head when something is bothering him.” ‘You’ it seemed she was not mouthing but thinking. “Oh. Yeah okay than…” I trailed of awkwardly before heading towards the kitchen.

I went down slowly and got myself the water. But when I turned, I somehow found myself staring back at me from the kitchen door.

“I just need to put this away first.” I was carrying two large paper bags filled with what looked like groceries. Cillian entered right behind me wearing a beanie and a muffler. “Fuck! I am freezing!” he said removing his gloves and coat after his beanie. He hung his coat behind the door and walked behind me in the kitchen, gingerly wrapping his arms around my torso. “We can put these away later you know…” He said suggestively, kissing my neck while I wiggled and tried to focus on the spaghetti packs I held from the bags. “Cillian!” I whined trying to get out of his hold but then he turned me to face him. “I need you…” He said nudging his nose with mine. In that moment I looked like I was under a spell. I abandoned the spaghetti packs without even looking at them and put my lips to his as he tried to steer us towards the bedroom without breaking the kiss, making us both giggle.

‘What the hell was that? Was that a memory?’ I put the glass of water on the counter trying to catch my heaving breath. I placed my hands on the counter, bracing myself. My stick fell down on the floor, ‘great!’ I was feeling dizzy and confused and lightheaded. Just then Cillian entered freaking me out more, “Fuck!” I exclaimed as my sudden movement caused the glass of water on the counter to fall down. Cillian looked startled as well as he put his hands up, “Don’t move. He came forward and offered me his hand as he noticed my fallen stick. I took his hand as he guided me away from the broken glass. Still dizzy, I swayed a bit when he placed his arms around me. “God! What happened? You’re sweating so much!” I looked up at him. His eyes were full of concern, “I… I don’t know…” I mumbled taking in appearance. He was in his shorts and t-shirt. Sweating from head to toe. My mouth went dry. “I came down to get some water but then… I … just saw something. I… I think it was a memory.” He frowned at that but didn’t let go. “What did you see?” He asked still holding me close. I told him what I saw, omitting the sexy bits. But I think my blushing and looking everywhere gave it away. He asked what we were wearing and then when I told him he said, “That was our first grocery shopping after we moved in together.” He answered. His smirk told me that he knew ‘exactly’ which details I had omitted.

I wanted to kiss him. And it would have been so easy. We were standing so close to each other. His lips were only a few breaths away. “Come on, let’s get you to bed.” He said. All previous humor gone from before. Even his touch felt cold if that was possible.

He helped me to my room with one hand around me and the other carrying a glass of water. Then without a glance back, he went away.

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The alarm was ringing when I opened my eyes. It was still dark outside. “Y/N get up! We’ll miss our flight!” Marie was already up and getting ready. I simply did not want to even move or acknowledge the fact that it was time. Time to say the final goodbye.

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