#but life is too short for me to be them all
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Through Me (The Flood) - secret baby fic
Simon Riley / female reader
Simon is silent.
He should be focused. He should be going through the plan, the optics, over and over in his mind until it's memorized.
He should be Ghost, but he's stuck on Simon.
Simon has a baby, and you. He has a family now. A family that will need him.
And you need him.
You didn't say it outright. You didn't ask for anything, actually. You only asked what he wanted, how involved he wanted to be, what he wanted to do. You told him he was welcome in Orion's life, as much or as little as he wanted, and you promised you could continue on without him, if that's what he decided. You talked about the baby's life, custody and trading off and everything else, all while he nodded along, watching the way the sun refracted in your eyes, how it shimmered across your skin.
You don't understand yet, but you will. You and the baby, you're it now. You're the only things that matter.
You're his.
"Alright, LT?" Johnny shouts over the roar of the plane, and Simon can only nod, still lost in the morning stretched to early afternoon, the memories he's so desperately trying to scar into his brain. They're fleeting, and short, and he holds onto the hope that he'll get more of them, more moments, more time.
A buzzer sounds. A light turns green. He takes a deep breath, rolls his shoulders-
and stands as Ghost.
He waits patiently at your door.
His bones ache, still decompressing from the last two weeks, mind and body trying to slowly slink out of fight or flight into something else, something new and unsteady.
Into being... this, whatever it is. A stranger to his child and future wife.
He triple checks his phone on the way to your flat, ensuring he's following the plan, the meeting time, the invite to a T.
Come for a late breakfast, maybe we can take a walk? You're more than welcome to come see him, anytime, and we can chat.
Anxiety crawls up his throat and back down, settling in his stomach like hot stones, tipping him over from one side to the next, nearly making him unsteady on his feet. He trips over his doubt, his fear, his worry again and again, brows creased together as he tries to push it all from his mind.
How is he supposed to leave you two here, again? How will he make sure you're safe? He'll need to move you to a secure home, somewhere in the country, most likely. A small town, where-
"Simon, hey." The door swings open and there you are, Orion on your hip, a soft hand supporting the juncture of his head and neck. He's grown in the two short weeks Simon has been away, the agonizing reminder that he's missed so much.
"G'morning." He rasps, and you smile shyly.
"It's good to see you."
"You too." 'You too' doesn't even begin to cover it, he thinks wryly. Doesn't even begin to encapsulate the breadth of emotion he's holding now, the obsessive circle of thoughts that revolve around you and the baby, his family.
Just standing in front of you, seeing the two of you whole, soothes an ache in his heart, a bleeding hole from a wound that only you could heal.
It's too much, and not enough.
C'mon in. I'll make some tea."
#peaches writes#simon riley x reader#simon riley#simon ghost riley#ghost x reader#obsessed Simon is best Simon#through me anthology
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Hot Wheels [M]
Pairing: Kim Mingyu x Fem!Reader
Tags: 15.9k, 90's AU, Co-Workers to Lovers, Fluff, Humor, Smut 18+
Collab: Now That's 90's
Summary: There has been something brewing between you and your part-time co-worker (full-time hottie), Kim Mingyu. Endlessly flirting on the clock at Wheelies, making out in the back of the movie theater, rolling around in the sand with a mighty good man...no other 90's dreamboat could ever compare.
Warnings: SMUT 18+, MINORS DNI!! mxf (consensual) sex, fingering, low-key breast play, making out (in public), hickey talk, Mingyu is hung (obvs), he's also portrayed as 'taller' than the mc in interactions, mild to moderate language use, gyu's roomies are sloshed at the end (unrelated to smut or main characters), that should cover all the bases...
Fridays at the roller rink are always busy but this is the first official skate-night of Summer Time ‘99 and it’s like opening day all over again. The schools let out just a few hours ago, releasing hoards of teenagers with pent-up energy loose on your small town and there is a line out the door waiting to get into Wheelies to jump-start their next few months of freedom.
Thankfully, the owners prepared and bought a whole new stock of skates so when you inevitably have to help out at the rental counter you’ll have enough to go around without having to argue with some sixteen-year-old about not having their size.
For now, you’re on the floor making sure everything is running smoothly, gliding around in circles with your hands in your pockets. It’s not too packed just yet even though you can see the steady stream of kids filtering through the doors after hitting the ticket booth. Mothers are packing up their little ones knowing it’s time to head out before it picks up pace and the exchange in skaters coming on and off the floor keeps things pretty even for a short while.
As you pass by the DJ booth for the hundredth time this evening, Vernon pauses to make a goofy face at you while he sets up his equipment. He’s probably the one person who enjoys the summer nights the most because he gets to put on light shows and mix tracks to his heart’s content.
After letting the floor empty a bit more, you come to a stop in front of him for a quick break, crossing your arms and resting them over the top of his carpeted booth.
“You gonna play something special for me tonight, Nonnie?”
He rolls his eyes but grins all the same. “You ask me that every night.”
Laying your head on your arms, you look up at him with a pout, “And yet, no romantic song dedications to your favorite Wheelies girl,” you pick your head up and bat your eyes at him, “I’m starting to think you want to break up with me.”
“I promise if I want to end our made-up relationship, I’ll tell you like a real man. Besides,” Vernon laughs and tilts his chin up, looking at something behind you, “I think you’ve been seeing other people. Hotter Wheels if you catch my drift.”
“Heh, I think he hates that name,” you turn, catching sight of Mingyu ducking into the locker rooms to change out and stow his bag, most likely coming straight from hockey practice. Vernon is back to messing with things when you turn, humming, “Lets be real. I only like boys who don’t like me, Nonnie, that’s why you’re the one.”
“What if he’s like you and only goes for girls who don’t want him?”
At that you laugh, preparing to depart as the floor begins to steadily fill again. “Well then, he’ll be lonely forever because I am pretty sure everyone wants him.”
“Including you?”
Very stealthily, you flip him the bird.
Vernon just laughs it off and gets back to work as you skate away, toying with the whistle tied around your neck. You can tell he’s about to get started with his new set when the lights dim and the carpeted walls and floors outside of the polished skate floor start to glow. The little whirls and shapes coming to life with a neon purple hue.
You catch the line piling up at the rental booth but thankfully, it looks like they called in a few extra hands tonight to help there and in concessions which means you get to stay on the floor. Rentals isn’t the worst, that would be birthday party hosting, but you also hate concessions so you don’t put up a fuss when you’re asked to help with skates or in the front on the rare occasion one of the sweet old ladies manning the ticket windows is out.
As more people start piling onto the floor you slow your pace and skate backward for a few feet to check out your surroundings and find teenagers everywhere, loud and wildly unaware of their surroundings. They aren’t too awful this early in the night but you’re sure you’ll have to escort someone off the floor before closing time.
You’ll enjoy your leisurely pace for now and it seems Wonwoo is keen to do the same on the opposite side of the crowd. He weaves in and out of skaters bobbing his head to the music. His glasses are sitting lower on his nose than usual and you’re sure he’s broken them again…or his little brother did and he’s waiting for their exact replacement to come in so he can switch them out without his brother noticing and feeling any more guilty.
He’s only eight but Wonwoo is his very best friend. They come in on Saturdays together, one of Wonwoo’s only days off, and he teaches his brother to skate for an hour or so before he lets him loose in the arcade and they leave with matching ice cream cones in hand. They even have matching shaggy hairstyles. It’s adorable.
In truth, you’re fond of many of your co-workers but Wonwoo is definitely in your top three for that reason alone. You get along really well with any easy-going personality, it's the same with Vernon. They are both just nice, quiet guys and the exact opposite of the giant shadow hanging over your left shoulder.
Although, you suppose you get along just fine with him as well.
“Quit checking Wonwoo out, you’re breaking my heart.”
Even before he opened his mouth, the distinct cologne he always wore told you Mingyu was finally on the floor, ready to chase you around for the rest of the night like it was his full-time job. He spent more time trying to charm your pants off than doing what he was actually hired to do but he is so damn charming that he somehow gets away with it.
Besides, this is just a part-time gig for him. Might as well enjoy himself while he’s at it.
When you don’t answer right away, he decides to show off his stupidly impressive hockey maneuvers and he swings around in front of you, casually skating backward without bothering to look behind him. He’s big enough that people can’t miss him and they tend to move out of his path pretty quickly. Now that he sees your face, he’s smirking because you don’t even have it in you to hide your smile tonight. “Oh, that’s pretty,” he coos, “My heart’s healing already.”
You grab his arm to pull his hand away from his chest and he spins around to skate at your side, eyes briefly scanning the floor until they’re back on you.
“I wasn’t checking him out but believe me… you’re going to be absolutely devastated when Vernon finally admits he’s in love with me. Game over, buddy.”
Mingyu looks wholly unconvinced. “Well, he’s had long enough and you’re going to fall in love with me by the end of the week so…” he pinches his lips together like he’s just delivered the real, honest, awkward truth and you’re battling butterflies in your stomach.
“End of the week, huh? Are we sure?”
He gets distracted by an increase in volume but for only a moment because Wonwoo is already on it and the quick, sharp sound of his whistle means Mingyu’s full attention is on you again. “That’s what I have circled on my calendar,” he shrugs, “Nothing we can do about it now but let it happen.”
Mingyu’s sense of humor and playful nature are the literal nails in your coffin. You can handle hot with no personality…this one is hot with an overabundance of personality.
You look up at him, probably grinning ear to ear, “Bet you have little hearts doodled all over it with a hot pink gel pen, don’t ya, Hot Wheels?”
He grumbles something under his breath and it makes you snicker. Wonwoo started that one and it seemed to spread throughout the building like wildfire. Now, even the ticket ladies call him Hot Wheels though you’re sure they mean it quite literally whereas Wonwoo was actually just busting Mingyu’s balls about a particularly embarrassing tumble he took.
“Purple gel pen, actually,” he turns and pouts as you both bank around the curve again, “Lost my pink one.”
“Could always steal another one from your little sister.”
At that, he scoffs, the corner of his lips pulled up into a half-smile, “She threw a Barbie car at my head the last time I visited,” he doesn’t even sound upset…it’s more proud than anything, “She reminds me of you sometimes.”
When you go to respond, a young boy accidentally skates too close to you and his wheels knock into yours throwing you both off balance. You catch him by the arm, meeting his panic-stricken eyes, and wait to hit the floor but you rock back against a hard chest and thank all your lucky stars Mingyu was there to save you. The older you get, the harder the floor feels.
“I’m so sorry!” The boy exclaims once you’re all steady again, “I’m not good at this! I promise I wasn’t trying to take you out!”
His genuine concern is sweet and you laugh it off. “It’s totally okay and nobody got hurt,” you tell him and he takes a deep breath, “Wanna go around together a few times?”
The boy’s eyes shine and he nods his head rapidly. Mingyu drops back a few paces and you hold out your arm, elbow tucked into your side. “Okay,” you pat your forearm, “Hold on here…there you go…and we’re going to push off at the same time with the same foot. Hey, Gyu,” you call over your shoulder and he comes back up to your side, waiting for your instructions, “Will you skate a little ahead of us so he can watch you?”
“For sure,” Mingyu grins, picking up speed until he’s far enough away to slow his pace again and remain ahead of you.
The kid is a bit wobbly but he’s trying really hard and it makes you smile. You remember when you first learned to skate and how intimidating the rink was though you were around eight and he looks to be around fourteen. There wasn’t a floor full of bigger, faster kids to compete with though so you think maybe you got off easier.
“You’re doing great,” you encourage him, “Watch him go around the curve to get a better idea of how to steer yourself.”
Mingyu banks it beautifully, as usual. It’s surprising to most people that someone his size could skate so fluidly especially after learning that he only started playing hockey in his early teens. It was just something he had a natural talent for and trading out blades for wheels hadn’t altered his ability to move with grace whatsoever.
You work through the turn together, a little less smoothly, but you make it around and he lets out a short laugh. “He makes it look so easy.”
“Yeah, well he’s had lots and lots of practice and likes to show off.”
Your eyes settle on Mingyu again and as if he can sense you watching, he turns over his shoulder and winks which is not solely witnessed by you because the kid chuckles, following through the next curve with more confidence. “Is he your boyfriend? He’s kinda cool.”
The question catches you off guard and you laugh, covering your mouth with your free hand. “Not my boyfriend but yeah…I guess he’s kinda cool.”
He looks up at you…almost mischievously you’d think, if you knew him better. “I think he wants to be your boyfriend,” he snickers, “He keeps looking at you.”
You huff out a laugh, placing your hand over his before swinging you both into a stop out of the way. “I’m starting to think this is all a ruse and he’s paying you to put in a good word.”
The kid laughs and shakes his head, “No, I’m just nosey and a really lousy skater,” he says, looking up at Mingyu who’s come over and stopped next to you, “Thanks a lot for helping me out,” he looks a little sheepish, hand reaching around to scratch the back of his neck, “There is this girl at school I like and she’s a figure skater. She asked me out on a date at the ice rink when she comes back from vacation with her family in two weeks and I said yes even though I’m probably going to make a fool of myself. Figured I should start practicing now and falling on wheels is less intimidating than falling with knives on my feet.”
You laugh softly and Mingyu grins, shaking his head. “I admire your dedication to getting the girl, kid. Listen, I coach a youth hockey league at the ice rink down the road and have a free hour a few days a week that I use to practice myself. I’d be happy to teach you if you want.”
The boy’s eyes light up. “That would be so cool!”
Mingyu chuckles, “Alright, awesome. Are one of your parents here with you? I can go talk to them and give them my information.”
“Yeah! My grandma is sitting over there,” he points to the corner where you both make out an older woman sitting alone with a book in hand, surrounded by way too many boisterous young people.
You meet Mingyu’s eyes and both make a face. “Yikes, okay, let’s go save grandma.”
The boy thanks you again and starts to merge back into the flow of skaters as Mingyu smiles at you, pushing off with a ‘Don’t miss me too much’ and a stupid kissy face.
His grin is wild and gorgeous when you wiggle your fingers and whisper, “Bye, lover boy.”
Vernon is smiling at you when you reach his booth and you hop up onto the small ledge that allows a good look at the floor as a whole while also giving your legs a needed break. He’s playing one is his 80’s to 90’s pop mixes and tweaking the rotating lights that dance over the skaters until they start changing colors, neon polka dots as far as the eye can see.
There is a steady exchange of kids coming on and off the floor. Most of the early group heading into the arcade or bombarding the concessions counter while the later crowd takes their place. In between all that, you catch sight of Mingyu speaking with the boy and his Grandma. You don’t even realize that you’re unabashedly smiling at the scene, thinking about how kind and attentive he is when he’s listening. The way he leans in and pulls back, grinning and laughing.
“Still think you’re not into him?” Vernon says over your shoulder, laughing when you startle.
You purse your lips, eyes wandering back over. “I’m simply admiring his social aptitude,” you flick your eyes back up to Vernon and grin, “Why? Is it making you jealous darling?”
He smirks, “Not yet. Gonna have to try harder.”
“Ugh,” you swoon, hand over your heart, “I love it when you play hard to get.”
Vernon nods his head laughing, “Yeahhhh, I know you do.” Then he notices you’ve got your eye on an issue that needs handling and reaches out to pat the top of your head, “Two more hours and they all have to go home to be someone else’s responsibility. I’ll throw in some of your favorite jams.”
Ten o’clock couldn’t come soon enough but you appreciate his offer and toss out a few songs for consideration though he’s pretty familiar with your tastes. You step back down onto the floor and blow Vernon a kiss when you immediate recognzie the song he’s jumped into…just for you.
“You really are the best. Check on you in a bit, undercover lover.”
He throws up a peace sign and you cut across the floor to ask a couple of kids who were just blowing and popping bubbles to go spit out their gum as it’s clearly stated that it's not allowed on the floor. They don’t love your request and start to argue but Mingyu sneaks up behind you again and dazzles them with a smile. Just like that, the two young girls start giggling and falling all over themselves to do exactly as asked…all because the pretty guy said ‘Please’.
It’s comical, honestly.
Mingyu is smirking when he rolls along beside you, bending at the waist to peek up at your face because it’s aimed at the floor as you try to school your features. He’s so irritatingly flirtatious and you’re too quickly playing into his hand tonight. You’re usually better than this, holding out well until you’re pulling out of the parking lot.
“Oh, yeah,” he intones, “Tonight is definitely the night. You’re giving in. You can’t resist me any longer. It was bound to happen. You’re still smiling! I can see it!”
Laughing, you pull your head up and give him a look that you would have loved to be firm but it’s not in the slightest. How can you be serious when he is so not serious? “Don’t you dare,” you warn with a loose laugh tacked on at the end, “I told you, we’re not going on a date.”
Mingyu shrugs, “So, movies tomorrow night?”
“Don’t you work tomorrow?”
He bats his eyes with a saccharine smile, “I love that you know my schedule by heart,” he ignores your eye roll, “Wonu’s covering my shift since he owed me one and also because he’s a true romantic. He’s rooting for us and we can’t disappoint him.”
“Well, I suppose if it’s what Wonwoo wants…” you look up at him, eyes glittering with excitement, “When are you picking me up?”
For as calm and cool as Mingyu keeps it on the outside, he’s buzzing on the inside because he’s been toying around with the idea of taking you out forever. And he’s asked…more than once…but you’ve kept him on his toes and he’s enjoyed the playing the game but he’s elated that you’re finally saying yes.
He tries to school is face but he’s still beaming as he tries to casually say, “I’ll pick you up at seven.”
“Seven?” you snicker, “Isn’t that a little late to get started? You keeping me out all night?”
He just shrugs, grinning. “Maybe.”
Mingyu shows up nearly twenty minutes early and you can see his car outside your condo. He doesn’t make a move to get out and it’s amusing to watch as he nervously drums his fingers on the steering wheel for a few beats before reaching for the door like he’s going to get out, and then shaking his head before resuming the fidgeting. It’s also a relief to know he’s feeling the same jitters you are.
The thought crossed your mind to pop your head out to wave him inside but he might be giving himself a pep-talk and you’re still contemplating your outfit.
The movie theater is always so cold. You debated the pros and cons of wearing something short-sleeved because on one hand, if you’re cold it might prompt your date to keep you warm but on the other hand, if he didn’t, you’d be freezing the whole time.
You could bring a jacket, but that’s an extra thing to carry.
Digging through your closet, you pull out a fuzzy black long-sleeved sweater. You hold it out, admiring the way it’s cropped a little shorter in the front, and then turn back to the mirror, holding it up to your chest. It would look cute with the Levi’s you’re wearing…decisions, decisions.
A car horn beeps and you peer out of your window seeing Mingyu rigid behind the wheel. You laugh, thinking he probably did not mean to do it and is embarrassed at having accidentally made too much noise. That’s pretty obvious by the way he’s looking around, paranoid and frustrated. It’s actually super cute and you’re lingering by the window now just admiring him from afar without care
Until you see Mingyu cut the engine and get out of the car. Then the panic sets in because you’re still not ready and well…it’s the first time he’s seeing you outside of work and not in uniform. You want him to be wowed and are probably still taking too long to get moving considering how brisk of a stride you know his to be. He’ll be here any second.
You scramble to pull on the sweater in your hands and run into the bathroom to grab your gold hoops, fix your hair, and check your makeup one last time. Your heart is racing but you smile at your reflection. He sees you all the time at work looking not even half as done-up as you are right now and thinks you’re a solid 10, so there isn’t really any doubt he’ll be pleased. Then the doorbell rings.
A few deep breaths to calm your nerves comes first. When you open the door, Mingyu’s mouth is fixed like he had a line locked and loaded but when he sees you, he chokes on the words. He’s so flustered that he stumbles back a step, laughing at himself. “Oh, you’re not going to take it easy on me, are you?”
That lights you up from the inside out and brings your confidence back around full circle.
“Have I ever made things easy for you?” you snicker, grabbing your purse off the hook by the door, “I think you like a challenge.”
“Nah, I just like you,” he smirks, tongue poking the end of his pointed canine as he watches you close and lock the door, trying his hardest to be respectful, “You look really good. Have I said that yet?”
Stashing your keys in your purse, you turn and grin up at him. “You alluded to it but I wouldn’t mind hearing you say it out loud.”
Always playing and teasing and flirting. It’s almost too much for you both to bear at this point.
“I’ll tell you as many times as you want,” he says softly but he reaches toward you, slipping his hand just behind your hip to pull you closer with a bold, sharp tug. Startled, you bump right into Mingyu’s chest and look up at him with wide eyes. He doesn’t say anything for a minute and then tilts his head back, sighing into the sky above. He’s mostly amused when he looks back at you.
“You look incredible…and we should get in the car before I ruin the illusion of me being a gentleman.”
“That image has been splintering for a while but I don’t think I’ll mind if a manner or two slips,” you tease as you pull apart, taking the time to look him up and down…
Light-washed jeans, crisp white t-shirt, open flannel hanging off his broad shoulders…”You look really good too,” you murmur in appreciation.
He’s about to sweating straight through his shirt if you keep looking at him like that.
“...yep…time to go,” he mumbles, pinching is lips together as he grabs your hand. He pulls you toward the parking lot which isn’t far, and opens the door for you to slip into his passenger seat. He doesn’t let go until you’re settled and takes it a touch further when he reaches in and grabs the seatbelt before you. His hand purposely grazes against the exposed skin between your pants and top as he buckles you in and you let out the breath you were holding the second he closes your door.
It’s getting more difficult to play hard-to-get by the millisecond but you’re willing to give in first if your reward is Mingyu breaking down bit by bit right in front of you.
You bite your lip to keep from giggling when he quickly rounds the car and settles into his seat next to you. He’s still shaking his head, quietly laughing at himself for getting so easily worked up. He turns over the engine, shifting into drive, and peers over at you with an air of disbelief.
“I’m starting to think we’re gonna have to sit in separate rows at this rate.”
Thankfully, the tension melts into easy banter and conversation on the ride to the theater. Mingyu entertains you with stories about his family and asks after yours, specifically your beloved niece whom he loves hearing about. He lets you toy around with his radio and blare some Spice Girls song that neither of you sings along to with the correct pitch…or words. It’s a blast either way.
Bold flirtation aside, Mingyu has always been a gentleman where it counts.
When you arrive at the movie theater, he opens all the doors, holds your hand every chance he gets, pays for your tickets and snacks despite your protesting, and lets you choose where to sit. The theater isn’t very full, though the movie you both decided on has been out for a while so it’s not all that surprising to see so many open seats. There are a few people scattered here and there and you don’t particularly love sitting next to others if you can avoid it.
That leaves the very front or the very back.
You glance over your shoulder at Mingyu, patiently waiting for you to decide, “You really don’t care?”
He shakes his head again with a soft smile and you sigh looking back at the open seats, “I don’t like being super close…are you okay with sitting up top?”
Mingyu’s eyes scan the very empty top rows and widen like he hadn’t actually realized how secluded they were until just now. “Totally cool,” he manages after a moment, “Lead the way.”
“Oh boy,” you whisper to yourself, turning to make your way up the stairs. You have to focus ahead and calculate the distance of each step so you don’t screw up and trip because that would be awfully embarassing. It’s dark, cold, and quiet, and there is a huge gap between the section you’re headed toward and the next closest couple sitting in the middle.
The very last row was almost too intimidating as if it somehow was the designated spot reserved for horny, depraved teenagers, and you were mid-twenty adults…so you stopped once you hit the second to last row and cut in a few seats before deciding that sitting in the middle was also weird so you dropped into the fourth seat from the aisle and forced yourself to stay put.
PIcking a seat and sticking with it has never been so daunting before.
Mingyu doesn’t say anything at all about your choice, much to your relief. If he cracked a joke about it, you think you might just burst at the seams. He just sits down in the seat next to you folding his very large frame into the too-tight space between the armrests. You’re both quiet as the lights dim and the previews start rolling but you can still feel him wiggling and adjusting himself next to you.
Your eyes meet when he accidentally bumps your arm and you smile at the fact that he is genuinely embarrassed, for no reason at all other than unintentionally taking up extra space. “I’m so sorry,” he whispers, “I don’t remember the seats feeling this cramped.”
“It’s really okay,” you turn, tucking his elbow safely into his side as you lift the armrest between you to give him more room, “We can share.”
“Are you sure?” his eyes seek yours again in the darkness, “I don’t want you to be uncomfortable.”
You quietly snicker at his worry when he was the one being so brazen with your proximity earlier. At the same time, you can appreciate his consideration and reassure him with a gentle smile. “I really don’t mind…the extra body heat is appreciated.”
You can feel the moment Mingyu lets the tension flow out of his body. His shoulders relax until your arms touch lightly, his legs spread a little further apart as he sinks into his seat, firm thigh now pressed to the outside of your own. He’s warm and his cologne, as usual, is so rich and alluring that you know you’re going to be fighting the urge to mold yourself to his side for the next hour and a half.
Surprisingly, the movie isn’t half bad even though it was one you chose because every other film out was either super sad or overtly romantic and neither genre felt like a good fit for a first date. ‘Black Mask’ had a decent balance of action scenes and suspense that pretty easily kept your eyes on the screen, at least for a little while, sharing sour gummy worms and a soda between the two of you.
Your attention began to wane after the third time you bumped hands with Mingyu and it was lost entirely when he decided to simply hold your hand instead. Movie plot gone in an instant.
Instead of the screen, your eyes fall to your joined hands resting in his lap. They climb up to his chest, slowly rising and falling with each measured breath. Carefully, you let them slide higher, admiring the shadows projected over his throat and jaw. Higher to admire his handsome face. Higher again, just to get a little more of him, and when you get there, you find him staring back.
Neither of you shy away this time. Mingyu nervously licks his lips and his eyes flit down to yours, only for a second, just to reassure himself that you’re both on the same wavelength even though the chemistry between you has always been pretty clear. He still hesitates before he leans closer but you’re done waiting and choose to kiss him first.
It’s soft, brief, and when you part, you can see the smile on his handsome face and it brings the butterflies in your stomach back to life all over again. He cups your cheek and pulls you back into another kiss, and then another, and another. A million times you’d thought about kissing Mingyu and this was still far better than any you’d imagined thus far.
Actually kissing him highlights the small details you were missing. The bits of it that are unique and a part of him only. It’s the way his thumb strokes against your cheek, how he tilts his face and changes his angle so fluidly that you follow him like it’s completely natural, the tender way he’s slow to let go of your bottom lip and how he kisses it afterward.
It’s certainly not your first kiss or even the first time you’ve made out with someone at the movies, but this feels entirely new. Mingyu is not some hopped up, horny kid. He takes his time with you, he’s gentle, patient. It’s not sloppy or rushed. He isn’t trying to clumsily cop a feel the whole time, though, you think you’d probably let him and that he wouldn’t fumble around at all. It feels like he knows exactly what he’s doing, even if he doesn’t.
You hope that you feel natural to him too.
He pulls back with a slow hum of appreciation and that’s good enough for you.. When your eyes meet, you’re both smiling, and Mingyu takes that as his good sign. He wraps his arm around your shoulders and tucks you into his side until he feels your body relax against his and you finish the movie just like that.
Well, you’re both looking at the screen but you’re more focused on the way he continues to kiss your hair every few minutes and he’s locked on to the feeling of your nails gently drawing a line up and down his thigh.
Eventually, the lights come on and you’re a little slow to untangle as the rest of the theater clears out. It’s entirely empty by the time either of you hit the stairs.
“Soooo,” Mingyu hums, trailing behind you half a step, “Thoughts…opinions…? On the movie, of course.”
You laugh without turning around and nod your head, “Right…the movie, yeah. Just as the trailer promised,” you focus on your feet moving a step at a time and not tripping, “Perfectly executed action sequences.”
He grins to himself, tucking his chin into his chest. “I’m glad it lived up to all the hype,” he balances his weight on one foot before taking the next step, “Nothing worse than all that anticipation ending in disappointment.”
You peer over your shoulder at him, smiling coyly, “Oh, no disappointment here. I’m sure i’ll be thinking about it for quite some time.”
He huffs out a laugh, “Are we talking about the movie or the kiss?”
“What kiss?” you smirk, quickly turning around to hurry down the rest of the steps but he’s right behind you the whole way.
Just as you whip around the corner and into the dim hallway that leads to the exit, Mingyu catches you around the waist and pins you up against the wall. You can feel his heart thudding under your palms, the thrill of excitement hardly contained in his chest as his lips crash into yours.
Disappointment is so very far from your realm of feeling at the moment. Any expectation you had, which admittedly was already pretty high, was shattered and elevated yet another level each time his tongue danced across the seam of your lips or when his hands made another pass over your body.
From the beginning, you theorized that Mingyu was more than just a smooth talker. You had him pegged as a man with follow-through and you’re simply rolling in it, knowing you were right, and now you’re experiencing it for yourself which makes things that much more gratifying.
Mingyu was a certified lover boy. Called and confirmed it.
The very best part, you think to yourself as you feel him grin against your lips, is that he’s yours…or at least, he wants to be. You don’t have to let him know he’s already won.
He’s still smiling when you slide your hands over his arms, pointedly squeezing the ample muscle there, and he finishes you off with a few final, fluttering kisses.
When your eyes meet, there is a buzz of nervous laughter and Mingyu again asks, “So, the movie or the kiss?”
Your gaze drifts back down to his mouth and your stomach twists torturously when his knowing smirk reveals a prettily pointed canine. The same that’s bitten into your bottom lip a few times already this evening. You look back up and narrow your eyes playfully, “I don’t recall any kissi-”
He leans back down, slotting his lips against yours and the second he so much as breathes the door at the end of the hall clicks open and you hear two voices, likely the staff coming to clean the theater, and here you two delinquints are still splattered against the wall playing tonsil hockey.
Mingyu freezes and your eyes are wide as saucers. “Go, go around the other way!”
You have to slip out from under his frame and drag him a few feet before his mind catches up and you’re both scrambling back across the theater to the exit on the opposite side. As quietly as you can, you peek out of the small window to make sure the coast is clear and pop the door open for you both to come tumbling out.
The wide corridor outside the theater is mercifully empty but the adrenaline in your bodies’ leaves you jogging toward the side exit, laughter bubbling up and out into the open space around you. It’s all so silly and exhilarating, and when Mingyu grabs your hand, pulling you through the doors out into that warm summer air, you’re sure you can’t remember the last time you’ve felt so…alive.
Or maybe there is just something about the moon and stars, and the way their enchanting glow seems to make everything in their wake just a little more beautiful. He’s one of those things - bright, beautiful, feathered and soft around the edges.
You’ve stopped to catch your breath but it remains trapped in your chest the longer you look at him. It’s suddenly a little heavy, this crush of yours, weighed down by impression of his hands on your hips, your face, the small of your back. Flirting and teasing was easy. Agreeing to finally go out with him was easy. Realizing the potential for more was real and standing in front of you was a shock to your system because you’re uncovering very quickly how much you want that with him.
“We should definitely go to dairy queen.”
It takes a minute to process his words and then with a little shake, you lift your head to find Mingyu smiling back down at you. “Feels like the movie might have left you with a lot to think about and nothing helps me sort through my head quite like ice cream.”
You cock your head to the side, the tension in your chest evaporating just like that.
“Have you always this charming?”
“When I put in the extra effort, which is only for you, sure,” he chuckles, using your joined hands to pull you a little closer as you walk alongside eachother through the parking lot, “I’m not everyone’s cup of tea though.”
“I don’t believe that for a second,” you scoff, bumping into his arm with your shoulder, “Everyone loves you. I’ve seen it with my own two eyes.”
His tongue pokes into his cheek, rolling his eyes skyward, “You missed the guy I had to escort out of the rink a couple weeks ago who took a few swings at me in the parking lot. Pretty sure he was not enthralled by my dazzling smile and strapping good looks.”
“One person…that’s all you got?”
Reaching his car, Mingyu opens the passenger door for you and waits until you’re seated and looking up at him expectantly. He licks his lips and smirks, “Buckle up, you’re in for a ride.”
After grabbing ice cream, you decided making your date drive over to the shore was favorable to sitting on the sticky red tables outside the DQ, so instead, you’re sitting side by side on a small gym towel he miraculously had in his trunk, eating your deserts and swapping stories to the tune of the gentle waves crashing ashore.
So far, you’ve learned that the sole reason Mingyu got into hockey in the first place was because he was in constant trouble as a kid…in school, at home, or literally anywhere else he happened to be. His poor mother tried to put him in every sport and hobby she could think of to keep him busy and out of trouble but baseball wasn’t a fit, basketball ended in another fist fight and suspension, football benched a few and landed one kid in the hospital, and any form of martial arts was out of the question.
Finally, she found an ad in the newspaper for boy’s hockey team tryouts and the rest was history. You can clearly hear the admiration in his voice when he spoke about his original coach and his teammates. How it was touch and go from the start but no matter how much hot water he found himself in, they wouldn’t quit on him. When he realized that, he started pouring all of his pent up energy into the game and it changed him in all the best ways. It’s the whole reason he coaches today…to be someone who can make a positive change in a kid’s life the way his coach did for him.
Honestly, it’s hard to imagine Mingyu as anything other than the kind, gentle, playful guy you know him to be but everyone grows and changes. He still has a wild sort of glint in his eyes at times that lead you to believe every word he’s said about his younger years.
The sea breeze is crisp and almost a little chilly despite the warm air it mixes with so you push a little closer into Mingyu’s side and he wraps an arm around your shoulders. “Cold?”
“A bit,” you roll your head toward him, resting it against the crook of his shoulder, “Kinda just wanted to be close to you again…despite your delinquent past, I think I like you a little.”
“A little?” he smirks, eyes darting to your mouth briefly, “I think you like me a lot.”
Scrunching your nose, you make a face at him and he tosses his head back and laughs.
“If you don’t admit it soon I’m going to have to make a huge, probably embarrassing, for you, romantic gesture,” he counters, looking very half-serious, “A big old fashioned declaration of love…in public…loudly.”
“You’re still a little shit, aren’t you?”
“Don’t pretend you aren’t loving the reformed bad boy thing.” He’s spot on because Mingyu is the exact kind of guy you would have had a crush on back then too.
You let out a long sigh and pick your head up, leaning to the side to bury your now-empty cup in the sand so it doesn’t blow away just like Mingyu had on his side. In the process, Mingyu slips his arm a little lower on your back, his hand curled around your hip to keep you balanced. You love every single point of contact so you fall right back into his side when you sit up again.
“To be fair, I think you’re only partly reformed,” more smirking, “Mhm, that’s exactly what I mean,” you hum in amusement, “Listen, I’ll give in…just a little…and admit that there are a lot of things I love about you..”
“I’m listening,” he purrs, ready for the boost in confidence you’re surely about to give him. Anything that could even vaguely resemble a compliment would send him over the moon coming from you.
“I love the way…you genuinely enjoy helping people,” you start quietly, soothing the subtle nerves beginning to tingle in your fingertips, “I love that you put so much time and effort into coaching your kids and how much you love talking about them…how you’ll roll your eyes and shake your head telling me stories about them and yet you always finish with a smile because ‘they’re a handful but they’re good kids’”
Mingyu snorts softly and you knowingly ask, “There’s lots of little Mingyu’s on your team, aren’t there?”
He nods slowly, pushing the tip of his tongue against his teeth. “Ohhh yeahhh,” he breathes out with a light chuckle, “I understand now why my coach made me run drills until I dropped. I’ve got a couple that have already outshined my reputation at their age and some days it’s a battle of wills but they’ve come along way,” he ducks his head, grinning, “Hoping they’re the extent of my karma and it doesn’t come back to bite me in the ass when I have kids one day.”
He makes a face right after he says it and looks down at you almost apologetically, “Was that weird to say on a first date? I feel like that’s something you’re supposed to avoid but you’re easy to talk to and words just fall out of my mouth sometimes.”
“You don’t have to apologize,” you laugh, quirking an eyebrow at him, “I know it’s a first date but we’re not strangers, besides, I’ve always just assumed you were a family kind of guy. You talk about yours all the time, super close with your little sister, and from all i’ve witnessed, you’re just kinda great with kids in general,” you shrug, easing his worry, “I promise, it’s not a shock to me that you’d want your own and I’ll save you the torture of wondering whether to ask or not…yes, I’d like to have kids someday. Someday farrrrr away in the future.”
“Oh, good,” he chuckles, “Me too...lightyears away.”
It’s not on either of your radars currently but it’s nice to know that you have common goals for the future. It leaves a brief pause in the conversation, though not an uncomfortable one. Just a quiet moment to soak things in.
First date, first kiss(es), and it’s all going…perfectly.
It’s one thing to flirt and banter with a cute co-worker but taking the leap and going on a date together is a whole different game. There are very real feelings on both sides of the court and the potential for something real and permanent is so palpable you can feel it pushing you closer to one another. Leap again. Put yourself out there and trust the other will catch you.
Mingyu breaks the silence first and you feel his fingers twitch against your back.
“I really like you,” he says steadily, like that was the easy part, “I think you’re beautiful inside and out, stop laughing i’m being serious,” he grins and you try to reel it in for his sake, “My first day on the job I was blatantly called out and laughed at by Wonwoo after he caught me spacing out and staring at you for the third time…I don’t think I even made it an hour into my shift before I was hooked.”
“Oh, I thought you were being serious?” you grin.
“Shhhh,” he counters, “I’m not done.”
“Where was I? Oh yeah…you’re a good friend and a good person, and I like having you in my life,” he says softly, picking up your hand and pulling it into his lap, “I want to bring you home to meet my family so my mom can drag out the photo albums the way she’s always joked about doing while my sister spends the whole time telling you embarrassing things about me. They would like like you a lot. The boys on my team already like you.”
“Oh?”
He laughs, “Oh yeah, they’re always in my business and I made the mistake of bringing you up at a practice once so you’re a regular topic of discussion. I should have known I was doomed from then on and they’re brutal sometimes. One kid called me a loser because he’s fourteen and has a girlfriend and I don’t.”
“Is that how you’re asking me out? Trying to get the sympathy vote because you’re getting picked on by a bunch of kids?” you smirk.
“Maybe…is it working?” he asks, gaze dipping to your mouth for the millionth time tonight.
“I don’t know yet,” you inch a little closer, “Maybe you should try softening me up a little more before you ask again.”
He pauses, hovering just a breadth away from your face and his open mouth pulls into a sly grin, “By any means necessary?”
“Do what you have to do I suppos-”
“Niiccceee hickey.”
You slap a hand over the mark you swore you’d covered well enough with concealor, apparently not, and whip your head in Vernon’s direction. “Can you not announce it loud enough for everyone to hear?”
Vernon glances side to side. “There is literally no one except us in here and that thing announced itself.”
“What thing?”
Wonwoo comes in and drops his bag on the wooden bench, pulling out his uniform top to shrug over his shoulders. His glasses sit askew on his face and you really hope he’s got good insurance because they’re always in awful shape.
You turn and press your forehead against the cool metal of your locker door and Vernon chuckles, stowing his things noisely. “The physical evidence to prove that her date went abundantly well.”
Wonwoo smirks, walking closer to pry your hand away from your neck. He whistles. “Damn, Mingyu’s a biter…not surprised. Good luck hiding that thing - it’s going to be with you for a while.”
“Ok. Hickey expert. Thanks for your input,” you grumble.
He shrugs. “We all have interests and hobbies, and you’re welcome.”
You roll your eyes and turn around, leaning back against your locker with a pout. “I’m kinda nervous that we’re working together tonight for the first time since we went out. Do you think it will be weird?”
Vernon makes a goofy face. “Why would it be weird? I thought you said everything went well and you’re like, dating now? Did something happen?”
“No, everything was great,” you slump down a little further, “Like…too great. I’m trying not to jinx things or be weird. Are we too old to call each other boyfriend and girlfriend? Is that a thing for adults? Or did we grow out of that after high school?”
Wonwoo rolls his eyes, fixing the notch on his belt, “No, we’re not too old for that. He’s your boyfriend. You’re his girlfriend. Simple.”
“Is it?” you reply with a unintentional snap that doesn’t phase either of them.
Vernon sits on the bench in front of you and stretches his back out, groaning like an old man. “Yes, simple. You like him and he likes you, and you have fun together. I fail to see the problem.”
“Yeah, that’s like, the opposite of a problem,” Wonwoo agrees, “Besides…being left alone in the rink after hours sounds mighty convenient if you ask me.”
Snapping your jaw shut, your eyes widen, “What exactly are you suggesting?”
Wonwoo smirks, “I’m not suggesting anything but an opportunist would use their imagination.”
Both you and Vernon peg Wonwoo with a suspicious stare.
“With all due respect,” you say slowly, your eyebrow steadily raising with each word, “I didn’t think you rolled like that.”
“Neither did I,” Vernon adds, equally intrigued.
“You’re kind of a freak, aren’t you?”
“Who’s a freak?”
All three of you startle and whirl around to see Mingyu coming through the door. His hair is wet, likely freshly showered after hockey practice, and he’s looking at each of you with a clueless grin.
“Nothing and no one!” you reply with a grin, already floating toward the hunk in the doorway, “Hi.”
“Hi,” he grins down at you, “I see you and I got stuck closing tonight.”
You swallow down the knot in your throat and hold up a middle finger behind your back directed at Vernon and Wonwoo’s snickering.
“Yep,” you bounce on your toes, “Just you and I…closing everything down…together…tonight.”
Mingyu’s lips pinch together to hold in a laugh. You were always so bold and confident when it came to teasing him and now, he can tell you’re having to make a great effort to hold it all together. “I’m sure we’ll find a way to make it fun,” he chooses, satisfied when your eyes widen just a touch, “I think Jim’s looking for you by the way. If you’re done getting-”
“Yes,” you squeeze his arms and then move past him at lightening speed, rushing out the door.
Mingyu just stands there and laughs quietly before looking up to see the grin on Vernon and Wonwoo’s faces. “Alright, how much did she tell you?”
“Didn’t have to tell us much at all.”
Wonwoo shakes his head. “The bite marks you left told us everything we needed to know.”
Mingyu’s eyes drop to the floor as he awkwardly scratches the back of his neck. He’s glad the ones you left on him are covered by his collar because he just barely got away with blaming it on equipment mishandling when one of the older boys in his youth league pointed one out with a mischievous laugh.
Vernon claps a hand over his shoulder on his way out the door causing Mingyu to look back up again. “Happy for you, dude. She’s a good one.”
Mingyu smiles softly, “Thanks, man.”
When he leaves, Mingyu pushes further into the room and starts getting himself situated, glancing over at Wonwoo every now and then like he’s waiting for him to say something.
“I can feel you staring,” Wonwoo mumbles, eyes now glued to his Game Boy Pocket as he tries to save his progress from earlier.
Mingyu shrugs his shoulders up to his ears, pushing his bag into his locker.
Wonwoo puts his game down and looks up. “Whaddaya want, Hot Wheels?”
He pauses, making a face at the nickname, and then carefully asks, “On a scale of one to ten, how bad of an idea is it for me to-”
“Make a move tonight?”
Mingyu’s mouth pops open. “Oh,” he blinks, “You read minds too?”
Wonwoo sighs and leans back a touch, both hands gripping the edge of the bench beneath him. “To be fair, that’s exactly what I’d be thinking about if I were in your position. Empty building…gorgeous girlfriend…”
Mingyu scoffs, “Alright, easy…”
He gets a smirk in return and Wonwoo stands, stretching his long limbs. “I’m not wrong and also not interested in your girl so relax,” he leans down and tugs on the laces of his skates and then straightens out, “You both think too much. Just be normal. Do the same lovey dovey, flirty shit you always do and see how the night goes.”
“You’re kind of good at this,” Mingyu compliments, his lips pulling into a half-smirk, “What do you get up to when you’re off the clock and not playing big brother of the year?”
Nearing the door, Wonwoo just turns over his shoulder and tosses Mingyu a wink.
He’s handed out enough advice for one night.
You were still jittery when Mingyu joined you out on the floor but falling into the same routine was pretty simple, just like Vernon and Wonwoo said, and it took loads of anxious tension off your shoulders. If anything, Mingyu was more playful with his teasing and a little more bold with his physical affection when others weren’t paying attention.
It was like a game of how flustered he could make you without getting in trouble for fooling around on the job. The floor was crowded which simply meant he got to stay a little closer to you without looking suspicious which allowed him to find out how fun it was to pull you around by the belt loops of your pants.
He loved the little noise of surprise you let out every time he snuck up behind you, hooking his finger through the loop to tug you back against his chest where he pretended to tell you something important. Like he was just trying to talk to you over the sound of the music when he had nothing but more teasing to whisper in your ear.
The hours flew by unnoticed and before long, you were bidding your last goodbyes to the rest of the staff having finished their own cleaning and closing duties.
Mingyu went into the office to toy with the audio system after you asked to throw something on just so it wasn’t silent in the big dark building while you followed Vernon and Wonwoo to the doors to lock up after them.
Vernon shifts his bag on his shoulder and cuts a sideways glance in your direction. “You gonna be okay?”
You shrug, touched and confused he’d asked. “Yeah, I’ve closed up a million times. All good.”
Wonwoo pats the top of your head like a puppy. They both have a habit of that.
“He meant, are you gonna be okay here alone with Mingyu? Are you comfortable with us leaving - not that I think he’d ever do something to hurt or upset you…I’d kill him and he knows it…but you give us the word and we’ll stay.”
“Oh,” you blink and wave your hands dismissively, “No, we’re good! I was just worried about being a loser earlier but we’re totally fine!”
“We thought so,” Vernon grins, pushing the glass door open, “Just checking.”
It’s sweet and embarrassing that they’d thought to ask and you tell them as much as you gently push Vernon through the doorway. “Thought for a minute you were finally ready to confess,” you joke, fake pout on your lips and all, “I’ll drop him like a hot potato if you ask, Nonnie.”
Wonwoo follows him out and laughs, “You’re full of shit but I’m sure he appreciates the sentiment. By the way, if you find yourself in need…Jihoon keeps condoms in his locker.”
You slap a hand over your mouth, covering your shocked laughter. “First of all, mind your business and second, what the hell?!”
Vernon shrugs, “Man likes to be prepared I guess!”
….Line cooks are one of a kind. Truly.
You’re shaking your head as they wave goodbye and walk off toward Wonwoo’s car as it must have been his turn to carpool. Pulling the doors shut, you carefully lock each one and double check them before turning on your heel and then the music cuts on over the speakers. It’s not crazy loud but enough to keep the odd sounds that accompany a big old building from rattling in your ears.
Mingyu pops his head out of the office when you round the corner and you cock your head in question, “Beastie Boys?”
“Couldn’t get the discs to work so radio it is,” he shrugs, “I can find something else if you want.”
You shake your head, brushing past his shoulder into the small office to sit down and reconcile the financials for the night. “I’m not picky. Did you already grab the bags from the registers?”
He nods, “Yep, everything’s there and Jim left the keys for the safe in the desk,” Mingyu squeezes your shoulders when you sit down and you smile up at him. “I’m going to knock out the kitchen and rental walk-throughs while you count if that’s okay? After that we will just have shut down the arcade and I can take out the left over trash bags.”
“That would be amazing,” you tell him, head still cushioned against the office chair as you smile lazily up at him, “I just love a man that knows how to take charge and get the job done.”
He immediately chokes out a laugh and turns on his heel muttering something about how ‘he’s not going to get anything done if you keep that up’ as he walks away.
It takes another full minute to bring the task at hand back into focus and you have to consciously fight off the intrusive inappropriate thoughts clouding your brain when it’s supposed to be crunching numbers. You even have to recount a few bags because the image of Mingyu sitting you on the desk you’re working at to do dirty things with you keeps popping into your head and it’s getting harder and harder to focus. After probably twice the amount of time it usually takes you to do the financials, you’re finally done and locking the safe when Mingyu returns.
“Oh, hey,” you perk up when you notice him in the doorway, “Ready to go do the arcade?”
“Already done,” he snickers, “I came back after walk-throughs and caught you cursing and restarting your counts so I just went ahead and finished up the list.”
“Oh!” you shift on your feet, “...guess we’re all done then.”
Mingyu crosses his arms, leaning against the door frame looking extra swoon-worthy. Not a single poster of your favorite 80s and 90s heartthrobs plastered to the walls of your old bedroom held a candle to the picture in front of you and he knows it.
“You sound disappointed. I’m sure we could find other things to do if you wanna stay a little longer,” his eyes shift over to the audio system, still playing a mix of alternative and pop hits, and fixes his eyes back on you, “Ever considered making out with someone in an empty skating rink with No Doubt playing over the speakers?”
“Can’t say I have. What about you?”
Mingyu grins, shifting his weight to tower over you, “Thought just now crossed my mind.”
He slides one hand beneath your jaw and the other over your hip, slotting his lips against yours as he walks you back until you bump into the desk behind you. After teasing you with your belt loops all night, you decide to return the favor, licking at the seam of his lips as you hook your fingers in his front loops and pull him closer. He laughs against your lips and pulls back to meet your eyes. “That’s my move.”
“I liked it, so I think I’ll steal it,” you smirk, tugging at the loops still.
“We should probably get our things and head out before I do something stupid and incredibly irresponsible,” he chuckles though there is a very real edge to his tone like he’s trying hard to behave himself right now.
“What kind of stupid and irresponsible things?” you test him, releasing his belt loops to hook your index finger into the waist band of his pants instead, “I might be interested.”
The hand on your hip squeezes and he bites out a laugh. “Who’s the delinquent now?”
“Still you, but I recounted those bags because I kept getting interrupted by steamy office fantasies popping into my head so if you’d rather take me home before we make questionable decisions, we should probably leave now.”
He groans, torn between having to wait or giving in and having you right here, right now. The cons would be that it’s A.) your work place, B.) it’s not the cleanest place to hook up, and C.) he has to wait when his body is begging him otherwise.
As luck has it, you decide for him.
“Can we go to your place? My roommate is home tonight and she’s got hard rules against hooking up when the other is home. She doesn’t even really like when I have friends over but her name is on the lease so I don’t argue much.”
Mingyu shuts off his internal debate processing, grateful to have you choose for the both of you. “My roommates work the late shift at the bar on 89th so they will probably come home at some point but they don’t care about guests…or girlfriends. We respect that rule in regards to privacy.”
“Ugh,” you rolls your eyes, relaxing in his hold, “That must be so nice. Got an extra room at your place?”
“Got plenty of space for you in mine,” he smirks, “Alright let me grab our bags from the locker room and we’ll get out of here. Did you drive?”
You shake your head, moving to turn off the audio system, “No, I took the bus today.”
“Sweet, we’ll take my car home and won’t have to worry about leaving yours.”
It’s funny how you’re both being so casual at the moment as if you weren’t pinned up against the desk, debating whether you should desecrate the business office, and now you’re both going about your normal routines as if you didn’t just agree that you’re leaving to go directly to his place to hook up for the first time.
It catches up with you when Mingyu pulls up to the front of his shared beach house and cuts the engine. You look at the light blue house and catch the subtle sounds of the ocean not far off. “I had no idea you lived on the island,” you share as you get out of the car and walk together toward the door.
Mingyu hands you the key and takes your bag so you can open the door. “Yeah, we’ve been here about a year now. Used to share a condo a little further in but we spend a lot of time at the beaches here so when this place opened up we snagged it as quick as we could.”
Pushing inside, it’s exactly what you imagine a triad of bachelors to live in. Everything is clean but the couch is a futon, there are two cd towers filled with music you’d love to check out, a few bean bag chairs, a stereo system big enough to take up half a wall, and theres a couple of empty corona bottles spread on the low table in the living room next to a few gaming controllers.
Mingyu groans when he sees them and glances over apologetically. “I definitely asked them to clean those up when I left this morning. You’d think a couple of bartenders would know how to recycle empty beer bottles. I swear we have manners.”
You laugh and follow him to what you assume is his bedroom down the hall. He opens the door and drops both bags next to his dresser before flicking on a lamp. “Wasn’t expecting to bring you back here so I am glad my cleaning habits are something of use,” he pulls open a drawer and grabs a random t-shirt before handing it to you, “Here, you can wear this if you want and I’ll show you where the bathroom is…I just uhhh..I thought maybe you’d be more comfortable changing out of your uniform.”
You raise a brow at him, “What? My Dickies and pinstrip ref polo aren’t sexy enough for you?”
He smirks back, “Anything you wear is sexy enough for me but the sex and dating column in Cosmopolitan’s spring magazine says a woman’s comfort comes before all else and is the key to a healthy, thriving relationship.”
“You read Cosmo?”
He shrugs, “Had to pick my mom and sister up at the hair salon and got there on time which was apparently thirty minutes early. There was nothing else to do.”
“Learn anything else?” you ask just before he leaves you at the bathroom door.
Mingyu tugs the frosty bleached tips of his hair. “Learned six new ways to accesorize with butterfly clips and that my horoscope for last month was only half correct,” he grins, “Let me know if you need anything, babe, i’m gonna use the other bathroom to clean up.”
You mumble back an OK and shut the door, bumping into the counter. “Babe?” you repeat quietly, looking at yourself in the mirror.
The reality of you having a super-hot-hockey-player boyfriend who is also insanely sweet and volunteers his free time to coach a youth league, and is an amazing kisser, and the kind of guy that calls you babe, crashes into you completely and you’re scrambling to clean yourself up, change, steal some mouthwash, and give yourself a full pep talk before you emerge god knows how long later.
Following the same path back to Mingyu’s room, you pause at the door and take a deep breath before re-entering his space.
He’s laying in his bed tossing a small blue ball up and down with one hand while he waits. You’re pleased to see that he decided not to put a shirt on, lounging only in a pair of basketball shorts, because you also decided to ditch half your clothing. The opposite half.
The ball lands in his palm with an audible smack and he looks up when you step into his room, closing the door behind you.
“Wait right there,” he throws out a hand as you take a step closer and you hesitate, “I just want to burn this image into my memory for all of eternity.”
Rolling your eyes with a soft laugh, you walk the rest of the way over to Mingyu who reaches for your hand and pulls you up onto his bed to straddle his lap comfortably. His hands move up and down your thighs and he’s smiling at you all the while. “You’re so beautiful,” he sighs and then shakes his head when you try to brush him off. “Genuinely. I’m not just saying that to get in your pants. You’re not even wearing pants to get into.”
He’s amusing and captivating when he’s like this, hands exploring every inch of exposed skin, chest pressed against yours, his face turned up as he looks at you with that white-hot gaze. It further drives your need to touch and feel him so you wrap your arms around his shoulders loosely, letting your fingers dance over the muscle in his back.
Mingyu’s eyes flutter closed, only for a moment as your nails trail over his spine, and you smile to yourself, overjoyed with the feeling of his body beneath yours.
“This feels a little surreal,” you speak quietly and he hums in response, setting his eyes back on your face, “I mean…”
“Ahhhhhh,” he grins, lacing his fingers together where his hands rest on your lower back, kept warm under your shirt, “Because you’ve been dreaming about me every night since we met?”
“Something like that,” you sigh and Mingyu shuts up, not expecting you to give in so easily. You pinch the hair at the nape of his neck tugging it nervously, “You should probably kiss me before I say something even more embarrassing.”
Mingyu chuckles and his eyes dip to your mouth. He captures your lips easily, moving his hands against the planes of your back as he kisses you until your mind clouds over.
His hair is soft between your fingers, the silly frosted ends tickling your skin when you give a little experimental tug. Wonwoo teased him endlessly for falling for the fad but you had to admit you liked it on him.
You’d probably like anything on him though. Besides, it wasn’t long before Wonwoo broke down and tried it too albeit a bit more subtle and less Backstreet Boys.
Mingyu braces his forearm behind your hips and tugs. His skin is hot and he keeps you still against him, not like you plan on shifting away, but the need to be touched, held…anchored to him is met without needing to ask. It feeds into your confidence allowing you to move more freely, rolling your hips, arching your back until your chest is pushing into his and he just can’t stand the fabric in the middle.
The shirt he’d given you doesn’t even fully hit the ground before his arms are wrapped around your body again and he buries his face in the crook of your neck, lips trailing over your throat, shoulders, collar bones. Whatever he can reach without letting go.
A sharp gasp hits the air when his tongue dips to the base of your throat and he closes his lips over that same spot with a kiss. Thighs trembling, you hope he doesn’t comment on the pathetic way your cunt squeezes around nothing. He says nothing though. Instead, he groans deep in his chest and his hands tighten possesively.
Then he does it again, and again. He encourages your real, raw reactions, full intending to pull them from you until you let go of whatever mental block is keeping you from letting him know exactly how much you love the way he makes you feel.
Pretty soon he succeeds and you’re no longer trying to hold yourself together, holding your breath, or trying to be quiet.
Mingyu drags his teeth along your collarbones and grins at the soft hum you let out, so at odds with the way your body jumps at the sharp sensation.
“You like that, huh?”
It take an extra few seconds to process his words, brain near mush from his attention.
“So you do like it,” Mingyu laughs, pecking a small kiss to your shoulder, “What else do you like?”
You’ve only just now formed a response to his first question and now he’s asking another and he’s smirking. It’s almost like he’s doing it on purpose…
Your mouth pops open to say something, what that might have been, you’ll never know because at the same time, Mingyu leans back a little and drags your hips over his, grinding his erection against your sensitive cunt. “You like that?”
At this point, you give up on words and just nod your head fervently. Yes, I fucking like that.
His hands ghost up your sides until his thumbs are brushing against your breasts. He pauses, testing the water before diving in, and he catches the hitch in your breath. The way your head drops back just a touch like all this is making you a little dizzy. He leans forward and presses a kiss against your sternum before falling back against the pillows to take in the full picture.
You, perched in his lap with your back arched, pushing your aching breasts into his hands to play with. It’s the exact shit he’s fallen victim to in a wet dream but this is real and far better because here you are, in the flesh, gripping onto his wrists and rocking your hips against him for an inkling of relief from how much he’s turned you on.
It’s wearing his patience down and is going to bite him in the ass if he doesn’t move things along. He prematurely finished one time and it still haunted him at night. Never again.
Hopefully.
Mingyu makes a miraculous maneuver, with you landing on your back at his side, somehow, without twisting or pinning someone’s limb in the process.
“That was very smooth.”
You’re staring back up at him in wonder, partly because you’re not used to being tossed around like that, but also because he’s looking down at you with a serious, heated expression and it’s making your heart beat a little too fast.
“Can I touch you?” he askes softly and you’re immediately nodding. “Yeah?” he mimics the motion in a daze, eyes glued to your mouth, “Come here.”
Easy. You kiss him, well, it’s pretty equal efforts but you get to him first, too impatient to wait even half a second more. His hand moves over your hip slowly, then shifts to brush against your naval where he rests it for a moment, heat from his skin seeping into yours.
He’s planning on making good on his request, though you beat him to it again.
Mingyu parts his lips with a sigh when he feels your hand slide over his. Your fingers curl around his palm and you guide his hand lower. He asked to touch you and then made you wait - whether it be on purpose or just his own nerves - you’ll help him help you.
He doesn’t seem to mind and rewards you instantly with his thick fingers rubbing against your cunt through your panties. Your mouth falls open with a soft moan and his brows knit together right as the sound hits his ears. His gaze is unwavering and you almost wish he would just kiss you again instead of studying your face this closely…then his middle finger presses down a little harder and the sound you let out that time makes the corner of his mouth turn up into a half-smirk.
It doesn’t even slip away when he leans down and kisses you, his smirk still obviously tugging at his lips when they touch yours. His hand pushes inside your underwear and he groans into your mouth when he feels how wet and warm you are but he doesn’t have time to waste or savor the feeling because he needs you to cum on his fingers at least once before he fucks you and his will to wait it out is all but gone.
You’re responsive to every stroke, gasping and whimpering, digging your nails into his arm. Your back arches up off the bed every time he pumps his fingers faster, rubbing them up against your g-spot with expert ease because, hell yeah he reads cosmo, he’s too fucking good at it to not have been guided by the devine-feminine mind.
Mingyu’s mouth envelopes one of your nipples and his tongue rolls against it at almost the same pace and pattern he’s rubbing your own slick into your clit and that’s enough to send you over the edge. He tries to be patient, to let you come down before he goes reaching for a condom but he catches the time on his digital alarm clock, the numbers glaring at him in bright red.
It was already past midnight meaning having the house to himself is ending relatively soon.
You don’t need the extra recovery time though, in fact, it’s the opposite. What you need is more and you need it now. “Mingyu…” he hums in response and you will your mouth to work again, “Do you even play basketball?”
He huffs out a laugh and shakes his head. Poking your tongue in your cheek you nod and point to his shorts, “...Off.”
Mingyu grins as he leans down and kisses you before rolling out of bed and your lips turn up into a smile, a breathless laugh floating up into the air. He drops his shorts and steps out in white Calvin Kleins stretched taut over his golden thighs, showing off every inch of his assets, and you have to prop yourself up on your elbows to even get the full picture.
Move over Marky Mark.
You’re too busy staring at Mingyu’s body to notice him taking the opportunity to appreciate yours. It’s just a brief moment to sate both your curiosities because though neither of you would prefer to admit it, you’ve thought about each other naked and probably more than once. Getting handsy on your date gave you a bit of an idea but the overwhelmingly obvious dick print staring you in the face at the moment confirms your indecent theory about what Mingyu might be packing…
And that has got to be the ‘Pony’ Ginuwine was singing about.
When your eyes meet somewhere in the middle, you both turn away quickly, embarrassed only slightly for getting caught. It was a good feeling to know that the attraction is mutual. You hear a drawer close softly and feel the dip in the bed when he slides under the covers next to you. Rolling over, you land almost nose to nose and Mingyu grins, “I like it when you check me out.”
You answer him with a kiss that starts out innocently enough but it’s such a dizzying sensation to be so wrapped up in him that whatever witty retort you had been thinking of is lost in the way his fingers squeeze into your side. He sighs against your lips when he drags you closer and your thigh settles high on his hip, wrapping your body around him tightly. Without thought or hesitation, he drives his pelvis forward, rubbing his erection into your sensitive cunt.
It makes you break for air, drawing too much of it into your lungs just to sharply moan through the exhale when he doesn’t stop. The muscles in his arms are so taut beneath your fingers that you know he’s not doing it to tease you - he’s at his breaking point and really just can’t help himself.
One hand slides down and pushes against the waistband of his briefs, rolling the material down as best you can until it catches his attention so his can finish the job himself. He groans, mostly to acknowledge your intentions, but also because he’s slowly trying to reel himself back for a moment. Just long enough to peel the last bits of clothing off you both and get a rubber on. It’s probably one of the most ridiculously inconvenient things he’s been made to do in a long time.
Neither of you say a word as he rips open the foil, trying to keep his hands still enough to roll the condom on correctly. It feels like static in his veins, trying to sit still when everything inside his body is screaming go, go, go! You can feel it too, the buzz of anticipation, the pulse between your thighs.
Then, there is a pause after he rolls back over, covering your bare body with his own, and he just looks at you for a moment, mouth tight. Your hands slide over his arms, up his shoulders, and settle on his face. “Everything ok?”
“Just wanna do this right,” he whispers back, turning his face to kiss the palm of your hand.
The corners of your lips lift in a small smile. “Feels pretty right to me, if that helps.”
The tension in his shoulders melts away and he relaxes his pinched brows. “It does help,” he says, one big hand stroking the outside of your thigh around his waist, “Just…talk to me if there is anything you want or don’t like.”
“I will,” you reassure him and he eyes you wearily one more time until you sigh, “I promise.”
That seems to be enough for him as he shifts between your legs and you let your hands fold over his shoulders, trying hopelessly to relax your body when you feel his fingers on you again. He doesn’t keep them there long, just enough to make sure you’re still wet before he’s gripping his cock, guiding himself into your heat.
The pressure is immense and Mingyu feels you tense up beneath him. He pulls his other arm up and shifts his weight over to one side, grabbing your face with his free hand. “Breathe,” he says quietly, tipping your face up to look at him, “Just breathe, baby.”
Easier said than done but you exhale shakily and his thumb brushes against your cheek. Mingyu draws his hips back slightly and pushes further in, eyes falling to your mouth when it pops open. The feeling of fullness is all encompassing and all you can think about. So full you might burst at the seams but again, you will yourself to relax and he finally, finally bottoms out.
You let out a sharp breath and just can’t seem to catch it.
Mingyu seems unsure of whether he should move or not and he barely gets the question out before you’re nodding. The first few thrusts are still tender and he’s still mindful of that but after a minute or so, the tides turn and you’re digging your heels into his backside, pulling him deeper.
Mentally, emotionally, physically deeper.
He’s a romantic through and through, including in times like this where he’s drunk on pussy and pure infatuation. He can’t get enough. The way you feel around him, clinging to his body, hands against his chest, eyes glued to his. He’s in severely dangerous territory and clamps his lips shut until the words sitting there fizzle out. Patience is what he needs. In his mind and in his heart.
His body is on an entirely different page.
Mingyu is smooth and consistent in his movements, like water in and around you. His name spills from your lips reverently, whispered into the air between you and it feeds him, pushes him to fufill your needs in a way you knew deep down he would. He’s a pleaser in every way.
So, when you slow him down with your palms firmly planted against his chest, he stops and listens. His attentiveness almost makes it harder to speak.
“Can I uh…like would you mind if I…laid on my stomach?” you ask unevenly, not really sure why you’re hesitating to share what you want when that is what he’s asked of you.
Mingyu looks like he’s died and gone to heaven. He doesn’t even answer. Carefully, he pulls out and moves so he can roll you over, prop your hips up, and fill you right back up. This time there is no slow start. His hand settles on your back, just between your shoulder blades, and he holds you there, pinning you in place in such a way that your eyes close on contact. Perfectly content to stay put.
The room is filled with lewd noises. Skin slapping against skin. Deep grunting and moaning sounds mixed together. Your muffled voice chanting his name over and over again. Mingyu’s quiet praises tickling your ears when your head turns fuzzy.
It’s a good thing no one is home because it’s almost embarrassing how loudly passionate you both are. You regret not asking Mingyu to turn on the radio to drown out the noise but it’s too late now and with another tug upwards on your hips, he’s stroking your walls just right and you hit an entirely new set of notes.
Mingyu can feel you squeezing around him, mewling into his pillows and he’s hanging on for dear life because you’re still skirting around the edge and he’s seconds from toppling over. An idea pops into his head, a catch twenty-two really because in doing this, he puts himself at further risk of finishing first but it’s still too enticing to pass up.
Somehow, he manages to roll your bodies together until he hits the mattress, successfully claiming his spot as your big spoon. He hooks his left arm under your head so that it’s rested on his bicep while his hand is free to roam your chest and his right arm snakes over your hip before you feel his middle and ring finger slip between your folds.
With you tightly wound up in his hold he picks up a brutal, finishing pace. He hits all the right spots and works your body until you’re seeing stars. Your breathing now harsh and uneven limits your ability to speak but you don’t need to say anything at all.
Mingyu knows your coming and he’s going right along with you. When your orgasm hits, you bear down against him, crying out in broken sounds as he pumps his hips through his own release. He continues to hold you against his chest, gently kneading at the fleshy part of your hip.
He presses kisses against your hair and then carefully, he pulls out before rolling you onto your back. Mingyu’s smile is adoring and beautiful, it makes you want to bury your face in the pillows again. The blanket will have to do.
“Why are you hiding?” Mingyu chuckles, grabbing at the blanket, “Was it that bad?”
You flip the sheet down and give him a blank stare.
“Shut up,” you bite, a hint of a smile appearing, “You know it was good. Better than good.”
“How good?” he smirks.
With an eye roll, you pull the blanket up just high enough to cover the lower half of your face. “Really fucking good…and you’re not even slightly winded.”
He’s on top of the world.
“My stamina is just another one of my many desirable qualities,” he half-shrugs, “If you’re still not in love with me, I’m happy to keep trying.”
“Will you stop when I do?”
“Not a chance,” he grins, one hand squeezing your thigh as he swoops in to steal another kiss, “Stay with me tonight. I’ll make you anything you want for breakfast”
You pretend to think about it when you know you’ll say yes, and not just because you don’t have a car. A sleepover? With your hot boyfriend? Who just rocked your world and will probably do it again and then cook for you in the morning? Yeah, that’s a no-brainer.
“I could probably be convinced if you find me something comfy to wear and have a spare pack of noodles…I’m starving.”
Mingyu jumps out of bed, the sight of his bare cheeks making you turn and giggle. “I’m about to make you the best noodles of your life,” he walks over to his dresser pulling out underwear for himself, a clean t-shirt, and blue-plaid pajama pants, then he tugs open another drawer and turns to you, holding out a big soft-looking jacket, “I think you’ll like this one. I don’t have any pants that will fit you but this is pretty long. Oooh,” he pauses, “I didn’t think about underwear when I-”
“Ruined mine?” you raise your brow teasingly, sitting up and making grabby hands for the sweater he tosses to you.
He scoffs, tip of his tongue poking at his teeth. “Yeah, that’s my bad.”
Your voice is muffled as you pull the sweater over your head before climbing out of bed, pleased that it indeed covers you well. “It’s okay. It’s not the first time and I’m sure it won’t be the last. I’ve learned to keep an extra pair in my bag.” You mention this so casually that he’s stunned when you walk over to grab said panties from your bag and kiss his cheek before turning to leave, “I’m gonna go clean up. Meet you in the kitchen for those mind blowing noodles?”
Mingyu hollers back as you near the bathroom door. “I’ll blow your mind in the kitchen alright!”
He slumps against the dresser when he hears you respond with, “I’m sure you will, babe!”
Babe. Ugh, you’re so it for him.
The steam of the shower mixed with some kind of masculine aroma in Mingyu’s body wash gives off the same feeling of being in his arms and the thought warms your belly again. It’s almost embarrassing, how much you want him just after having him in full, but you’re sure he’d be happy to oblige even if you so much as hinted at it.
Maybe he will blow your mind in the kitchen.
As you’re wrapping up and getting dressed you hear music, oddly loud for the hour but it’s vaguely familiar, still muffled by the sound of the vents running to air out the steam in the bathroom. Then there’s a crash, not earth shattering but enough that you’re slightly concerned. You hurry to hang your towel and pull on your clean underwear and his sweater when you hear another bump against the wall. Then…singing?
“Kiss meeee out of the bearded bobby~”
“NIGHTLYYYY beside the greanbeann grass~”
You poke your head into the hallway, “Um…Mingyu?”
“SWIIINGG SWIINNG-”
“Swing the spinnnning stem~”
Definitely not Mingyu. Also, definitely not the right words to this song but your interest is piqued.
You come around the corner to find him in the center of the living room, quietly laughing, holding the hand of one of his very jovial (probably drunk) maybe roommates while the other (definitely drunk) maybe roommate is spinning around them in circles, bumping into things along the way.
The one with bright blonde hair pokes Mingyu mid-spin, “You wear the shoes and I’ll wear a dressss~”
Then the his drinking partner joins in and their both belting out, “oOHHH Kiss meeee, beneath the melting twilight~”
Mingyu points to the blonde and shouts over the noise, “That one’s Hoshi.”
“Lead meeee, out on the moonlit flooOr!”
He gestures at the one hanging off his arm, the tall boy with shaggy black hair, “This one’s Minghao. They’re plastered, obviously.”
They’re delightful and Hoshi is coming your way with a cat-like smile. He bows, almost stumbles, and reaches for your hand which you’re happy to share. “Lift your open hand…” he serenades, lifting yours into the air, “Strike up the band and make firefights dance silver moons sparkly~”
And he spins you away so quickly you almost stumble but Mingyu catches you around the waist with Minghao singing over your shoulder in a whisper, “So, kiss me.”
And Mingyu does, of course, he’s not going to miss the opportunity. Minghao grins, leaning against the wall to catch his balance, and Hoshi claps…a little bit like a buffoon but you really like them both. Mingyu must really love them because he doesn’t complain one bit about the noise and overly dramatic show, especially with it being your first impression. It helps that he knows how laid back you are and can see the delight still dancing in your eyes.
He does however, turn down the music on the stereo so everyone can talk without shouting.
“You do know you guys are supposed to be serving the alcohol…not drinking it…right?”
“Don’t be r- *hiccup* -rude!” Hoshi flaps his hand dismissively, “I’ll tell your pretty girlfriend about all the times we had to hold your hair back, our sweet little Mingoo ~”
Minghao giggles, bumping into Hoshi’s shoulder, “Or about how you,” he pauses, the two of them bursting into hysterics as Mingyu sighs like he knows what’s coming. Minghao wipes away a tear, still cackling, “About how you got totally tanked that weekend you first started working at Wheelie’s and whined alllll nighttttt-”
Hoshi whacks Mingyu’s shoulder laughing and then looks at you, “He wouldn’t shut up about you the entire night. Crying into his beer…because he thought you were dating the DJ.”
Your hand flies over your mouth, giggling up at your boyfriend who is being a really good sport right now. Even as he pokes his tongue into his cheek, shaking his head at his friends.
“Vernon and I were never dating,” you fake sniffle, “Sadly.”
“Sadly?!” Mingyu swings his head around toward you, “I thought the soulmate thing was a joke?” he laughs.
“Oh, baby, it is a joke,” you reassure him, patting his chest gently but just when he relaxes you whisper, “Until it isn’t.”
Hoshi sticks out his hand as he’s stumbling toward the kitchen and you land a low-five as he goes, and one up top when Minghao follows behind him excitedly mumbling about making drinks for everyone, then Hoshi is shouting about noodles ‘for the love of god, we need more noodles!’
Mingyu sighs and you know he’s about to complain that he no longer has you to himself. Can practically hear it in your head already. So, you cut him off before he can start, tugging him down into a kiss hot enough to make him groan against your lips as his hands dip down to take handfuls of you.
Then he’s laughing, falling out of rythym and you pull back, smiling. “What?”
You squawk in surprise when he smacks your ass and says, “You know you’re still not wearing pants, right?”
Actually, you forgot because of the whole song and dance thing.
“That’s embarrassing,” you mumble, tugging his sweater further down your thighs, “I could go throw my work pants-”
“I can try to find you som-”
You both look toward the kitchen when music starts playing and Mingyu shakes his head, almost regretting stowing his portable radio in there for when he’s cooking. It’s quiet for a few seconds and then, like someone cranked the volume all the way up, it’s starts blasting and they’re both singing.
“Ooooh baby, baybay, b-baby, baybaby, oooh baby-”
Mingyu just laughs. “On second thought, don’t even worry about it. They aren’t going to remember anything tomorrow morning anyway.”
“I like them,” you grin.
His shoulder shake with mirth, “Of course you do.”
You giggle when one of the guys starts shouting the words and grab Mingyu’s hand, pulling him along behind you. “Come on, noodles, drinks, Salt-n-Pepa,” he fake groans and you squeeze his hand, “This is the most fun I’ve had at a sleepover in years.”
Then he’s grinning, “Well, we can make it a regular thing if you want.”
You turn, just before you get to the kitchen and push up to kiss his cheek, “Whatever you say, Hot Wheels.”
“Oh, come on,” he drags his feet after you, “Can we pick a new nickname?!”
“Sure. Come on, Coach Kim. Let’s go play in the kitchen.”
He stumbles a step and shakes his head. “Am I supposed to pretend it doesn’t make me kind of horny when you call me that? God, please don’t hold that against me. I am only a man.”
Oh? Good to know. “Whatever you say, Coach.”
Thanks for reading! 💖
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#mingyu fanfic#mingyu smut#kvanity#Now That's 90's Collab#svthub#caratwritersclub#kdiarynet#kwritersworldnet#svt smut#seventeen smut#kim mingyu smut#svt mingyu smut#svt fanfic#seventeen fanfic#kim mingyu fanfic#svt mingyu fanfic#seventeen mingyu fanfic#kpop fanfic#kpop smut#kpop oneshot#mingyu oneshot#lana writes (finally)
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sorry to the soft simon lovers but i am fixating on the idea of him being too abrasive for greater society. no, hear me out. he can't be normal after what he’s been through. after what he's done.
cw: dead dove. sadism. inferred sexism and stalking. punitive harassment. idk guys he's gross. 18+ MDNI
he's just a little too odd, grim, ugly, cruel, rude. he stares too long and makes jokes that strike the wrong chord in most. he's into things that are not as sexual as they are humiliating to his partners, and can not be satisfied by any relationship his therapist would deem as healthy. even physically, he's torn in all the wrong places. his scars aren’t rugged but almost painful to look at. his hands are huge and calloused and 60 grit sandpaper against soft skin. his nose is crooked. his hair is shorn short. he has a mean smile, watery eyes.
the one thing keeping him from being completely ostracised is the flag on his arm, the one he fights for. but it's like putting a tarp over some horrible, disfigured mess – you can still see the general shape of it underneath. most shrug it off as fine, go figure. you teach a soldier to kill and they cope by being killers. it's funny because simon's issues began way before he enlisted – he spoors it back to conception, when his father gave him a part of himself that can never be scoured clean. the military is just where he resides to conceal the stink of miasma he'll never rid of. piss over piss. putting a reason to the barbarity.
for a while, it's enough. he sticks to the corners. for all his sadism, he's not keen on subjecting the general public to his complications. he's smart enough to separate good from what makes him feel good. he only interacts with others like him – price, mostly, who's better at playing pretend but has issues that bury their roots just as deep. or maybe he's able to see simon for what he really is, and the novelty of not having to bite his tongue is enough to form a gossamer bridge of friendship. he sleeps with masochists who don't know what's good for them, all of them men (though it never pays when they're into what he's inflicting). in between missions, he'll disappear to his shitty apartment that he pays for in cash and drink himself to oblivion as he scrolls through a deprecating XXX site.
if he gets inebriated enough, he'll open up tinder and swipe through the birds advertising themselves, as if he were the holy arbitrator of what's attractive. safe because he made it so that no one would match with him; his profile is blank. no bio, no age. Riley as his first name and a picture of a shutterstock german shepherd because having one photo was a requirement.
the lifestyle probably exacerbates his problems.
maybe that's why he reaches a point of no return when he gets a text late one night. he doesn't give his number to anyone, so the only app it could be from–
your dog's cute. what's his name?
it's to his sloshed astonishment that someone swiped right on him. not even him, but a barebones, dodgy profile he curated to keep everyone at arms length when he chooses to indulge in his destructive habits. you're cute too, suspiciously darling and a whole open book – five pictures, a colourful description and your city of residence. you cannot be short of options, certainly not enough to drive you to a point of desperation, so there's no mistaking what this is.
you're setting up a little pet project. something to bat at like a cat does a ball of yarn, with no intention to commit or ever see him in real life. perhaps you chose him because there’s nowhere to go but up. or because his disinterest seems glaringly obvious, and a simple risk assessment told you that you wouldn't suffer an obsessive stalker if you ever chose to ghost him.
unfortunately for you, that couldn't be further from the truth. that simple question is enough to push him over the edge.
he's tired of holding back.
#tldr: what if big man falls for girl who wants nothing to do with him#revolutionary i know#simon riley#ghost#simon 'ghost' riley#x reader#tw stalking#tw noncon#ddne#simon 'ghost' riley x reader
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Disturbing the Peace
Happy Nation: A Series of Standalone Fics
Max Verstappen x Vettel!Reader
Summary: an environmental activist disturbs the carefully constructed peace of Max’s life and turns his whole world on its head (or in which environmentalism and being a menace both run in the Vettel family)
Max strides across the tarmac towards his sleek private jet, ready to head up to the Red Bull Racing factory in Milton Keynes after a weekend of relaxation back home in Monaco. But he stops short as his eyes land on a cluster of protesters glued to the ground around his jet’s landing gear.
A gruff security guard approaches Max. “Sorry sir, we’ve got a bit of a situation here with these Greenpeace loons. They snuck past the perimeter and glued themselves down before we could stop them.”
Max scowls as he reads the words Fossil Fuels = Destruction scrawled across one of the protester’s shirts. He storms over, fists clenched at his sides.
“What the hell do you people think you’re doing?” he fumes, glaring at the seated activists. “You realize you’re costing me tens of thousands just by delaying my flight?”
“That’s kind of the point, bro,” one long-haired guy shoots back with a snide grin. “You’re one of the worst celebrity polluters on the planet.”
But Max’s gaze is drawn irresistibly to you — a beautiful young woman with fierce eyes and hair whipping around your face in the coastal wind. There’s an intensity and passion burning behind your stare that Max finds himself unexpectedly captivated by.
You rise gracefully to your feet, the only one not glued down, and take a step towards the fuming Formula 1 star. “Max Verstappen. Out of all celebrities last year, you were the 20th highest personal polluter. Even higher than Taylor Swift.”
There’s an unmistakable blend of reproach and attraction in your tone that throws Max off balance. He scoffs, trying to regain his bravado.
“What, are you stalking me or something? And I’m supposed to care what some random activist chick thinks?”
You level him with a pointed look. “Not some random chick. Y/N Vettel. Sebastian’s sister. And yes, you should care, because this is your planet too.”
Max blinks in surprise at the familiar surname, now recognizing the resemblance to his former competitor.
Oh fuck, not this girl.
He can’t resist giving you another once-over, taking in your lithe frame, the jut of your chin as you stare him down defiantly.
An amused smirk tugs at his lips despite himself. “Vettel, huh? I should’ve known. You two do have a thing for causing drama wherever you go.”
The dig lands but you don’t rise to the bait, shaking your head minutely. “This has nothing to do with drama, Max. It’s about doing what’s right for the environment before it’s too late to save it.”
“Oh, spare me the self-righteous preaching,” Max scoffs, reflexively going on the defensive even as a small part of him admires the conviction in your voice. “Like your jet-setting around to protest events is really doing the planet any favors.”
You raise an incredulous eyebrow. “Jet-setting? I take public transit everywhere. Planes are the exception for international events, and I always buy carbon offsets.”
Max feels a flicker of grudging respect at that before quickly stamping it down. He folds his arms across his chest, fixing you with a challenging stare. “Yeah? Well what about your clothes? I’m guessing that shirt was made from petroleum-based synthetic fabrics.”
A look of surprise crosses your face before you recover with a small shake of your head. “It’s actually bamboo. Petroleum-free and sustainably sourced.”
“Your shoes then,” Max presses, gaze dropping to the canvas flats on your feet.
You lift one demonstratively. “Recycled rubber.”
His eyes narrow as he struggles to find another example to poke holes in your lifestyle. You watch him search with ill-disguised amusement, finally taking pity.
“Listen Max, I’m not saying I’m perfect. Nobody is. The point is to keep trying to do better where we can.” Your eyes hold sincerity and — though Max is loath to admit it — wisdom beyond your years. “But you’re in a position of power. With all your money and influence, just think what you could do for sustainability initiatives. How many trees you could plant or clean energy projects you could fund with just a fraction of what you spend on private flights and gas-guzzling supercars every year.”
Max shifts, discomfited by the practicality of your words. It’s harder to be glib and dismissive when you’re not ranting incoherently about the planet dying, but making reasoned arguments. Especially with that intense, scrutinizing gaze fixed so squarely on him.
He clears his throat, resorting to sarcasm as a defense mechanism. “Yeah, that’s cute and all. But then who would keep all those gas station attendants employed? I’m doing them a public service, really.”
The ghost of a smirk curves your lips in a way that makes Max’s chest tighten unexpectedly. “How very philanthropic of you.”
He has to look away from the spark of challenge and — yes, flirtation — in your expression. Max isn’t sure when this stopped being a confrontation and turned into some sort of tense back-and-forth bristling with inexplicable chemistry, but it’s rapidly becoming unnerving.
Seeming to sense you’ve flustered him, you lean in conspiratorially. “You know Max, for someone who acts like such an edgy bad boy, you’re not so tough. I think deep down you know I’m right.”
Max’s jaw ticks stubbornly even as his cheeks burn at your proximity, at the sweet floral scent of your shampoo drifting across the scant distance between you. “You don’t know a damn thing about me.”
In a daring move, you reach out and lay a hand on his arm. His breath hitches just slightly at the contact as you hold his gaze intently. “Then help me understand. Join me for dinner sometime and we can talk more about this over something other than just shouting at each other.”
The gentle touch, combined with the sincerity shining warmly through those big widened eyes, takes Max completely off guard. He opens his mouth, then closes it, abruptly unsure how to respond to such an olive branch extended from his vehement critic just moments ago.
Before he can formulate a reply, the wail of sirens pierces the air. A police cruiser pulls up as four officers jump out, advancing menacingly towards your compatriots still glued to the pavement.
“Alright, that’s enough here,” the barrel-chested sergeant barks gruffly. “You’re all under arrest for criminal trespassing and failure to obey airport security.”
You hurriedly step between the officers and your fellow protesters, palms raised placatingly. “Please officers, don’t arrest them! I was the one who orchestrated this, I’ll go quietly. Just let them go.”
Max’s heart does a strange little flutter at the selfless gesture, at the protective way you shield your group from the aggression of the snarling police officers.
Before he can think better of it, he’s striding forward and planting himself at your side, a steadying hand on your arm. “Actually officers, I’m afraid I can’t let you detain this woman.”
You blink up at him in surprise. The lead sergeant looks far from impressed, folding his beefy arms across his chest.
“And just who the hell are you to make that call?”
Max lifts his chin defiantly. “Max Verstappen. I’m sure your supervisors would love to hear how the biggest name in racing got falsely arrested on the tarmac because one of their officers couldn’t exercise some restraint.”
The sergeant’s eyes widen almost comically and he takes an unconscious step back, disarmed by Max’s threat to leverage his fame and money. “Oh. Er … Mr. Verstappen, sir. I’m sure, um, we can sort this out ...”
Max cuts him off with an imperious wave, turning his attention fully to you. Your expression is a mixture of shock, curiosity, and — though Max certainly doesn’t dare name it — just maybe a tiny flicker of attraction in return.
“You asked me to try and understand your perspective. Fine, I’ll take you up on that dinner.” He looks you squarely in the eye, expression unreadable. “But you have to promise to hear me out too. No judgements, no protests. Just two people trying to figure out how to make the world better in their own ways.”
You stare searchingly at him for a prolonged moment. Then a slow, wondering smile spreads across your face, crinkling the corners of your eyes in the most disarmingly beautiful way. You give a small nod.
“Deal. I’ll keep an open mind if you do.”
Max finds himself returning the smile before he can stop himself. “Deal.”
He doesn’t know why this odd, passionate woman has gotten under his skin so quickly. Or why he suddenly cares what some environmental activist thinks of his choices. But as you take his proffered hand and he helps you step carefully away from the cluster of protestors, Max feels an unfamiliar stirring of hope. Maybe there’s more to this situation — and to you — than meets the eye.
The sergeant looks between you two skeptically, but seems to think better of pressing the issue further with Max’s steely gaze trained on him. With a resigned sigh, he waves his officers back.
“Alright, we’re going to let this one go. But I better not catch you trespassing and causing problems again, you hear?” He jabs a meaty finger at you in warning.
You just smile serenely, still not releasing Max’s hand. “No worries, officer. I have a dinner to get ready for.”
As the police pull away, you turn that brilliant grin on Max again. He finds himself returning it almost against his will, captivated by the fire that dances behind your eyes. For the first time, he wonders if going toe-to-toe with an idealistic environmental warrior might actually be worth momentarily putting his own deeply-held beliefs aside.
Stepping in close, you surprise him by leaning up on your tiptoes to whisper conspiratorially in his ear. “Thanks for playing along back there. I owe you one, Max Verstappen.”
The warm breath tickling his neck sends an unexpected shiver down his spine. You pull back with a mischievous wink before turning and rejoining your fellow activists, hips swaying in a tantalizing way that has Max’s gaze lingering perhaps a moment too long.
As he watches you go, Max can’t shake the strangest sense that he’s suddenly entered uncharted territory. And that this is only the beginning of you continually barging into his life and turning everything deliciously upside down.
***
Max lets out a grunt as he heaves the heavy barbell up over his head, sweat beading on his brow from the intense weight training session. After securing the bar back on its rack, he straightens and grabs a towel to wipe his face.
His phone starts ringing from across the room, an unknown number flashing on the screen. Max debates letting it go to voicemail but finally relents with a resigned sigh, scooping up the device.
“Yeah, hello?”
There’s a brief silence before an automated voice responds. “This is a call from a corrections facility. To accept charges and connect this call, press 1.”
Max frowns, caught off guard. He presses 1 warily, curiosity getting the better of him. The line clicks and then a new, very familiar voice comes through.
“Max! Oh thank god you picked up.” It’s you, sounding mildly frazzled but still unmistakably your unique blend of passion and composure.
A surprised laugh escapes Max’s lips before he can stop it. “You? Calling me from jail? This I’ve got to hear.”
“Don’t sound so delighted,” you chide, though he can hear the smile in your voice. “Yes, I’m in a bit of a situation here. You remember the big event we had been planning to protest that oil baron’s ridiculous superyacht docking in Monaco?”
Max raises an eyebrow even though you can’t see it. “The one where you said, and I quote, ‘No Max, you can’t come. Your pouty little rich boy face is just going to distract everyone from the real injustice we’re protesting here.’“
“... Yes, that one.” You don’t miss a beat. “Well, we may have taken things a step too far. The police showed up and arrested all of us for trespassing and disturbing the peace.”
“You don’t say?” Max leans back against the weight bench, a teasing lilt to his voice. “So let me get this straight — you got yourself chucked in the slammer for causing your signature environmentalist dramatics, and now you’re calling me to help get you out?”
There’s a slight pause before you respond, tone turning softer. “I didn’t want to call Seb. You know how he gets — he’ll just give me that disappointed head shake and lecture about being more responsible. Acting like I’m still a reckless teenager instead of a grown woman fighting for a noble cause.”
Max feels a small pang at the uncharacteristic wistfulness in your voice. For all your sparring back and forth, he knows how much your activist work means to you. And how tirelessly you dedicate yourself to it, often at the expense of other aspects of life.
Chewing his lip, he considers his next words carefully. “I may give you endless shit about being a tree-hugging rebel without a cause, but you know I actually respect what you’re doing, right? Even if your methods are … shall we say, dramatic.”
You let out a small surprised huff of laughter at that. “Did Max Verstappen just pay me something resembling a genuine compliment? Aww, you really do care.”
Max rolls his eyes at the teasing, though his lips quirk in a reluctant smile. Something about your back-and-forth banter has a way of putting him at ease in a way he doesn’t quite understand.
“Don’t let it go to your head. I’m still holding out hope this is just a pesky phase before you eventually come to your senses and realize the error of your ways.”
“Fat chance, hot shot.” The warm amusement in your tone is impossible to miss. “But anyway, since you’re in such a generous mood — think you can do me a favor and come bail me out?”
Max hesitates, scratching the back of his neck. “I don’t know, bringing you home with me seems like a surefire way to get your activist cooties all over my ridiculously expensive non-vegan furniture.”
“Max ...” You let out an exaggerated whine that has him fighting back another grin. “Come on, I’m begging you here! I’ll be a model prisoner, I swear.”
Heaving a long-suffering sigh, Max pushes off from the bench and starts grabbing his shoes and keys. “Fine, fine. Twist my arm, why don’t you? I’ll be there in twenty minutes to ply your jailers with my generous pile of my money and spring you from the clink.”
You let out a squeal of delight that has his heart doing an odd little flip despite himself. “You’re the best, Max! Seriously, I owe you huge after this.”
“Yeah, yeah. Just don’t expect me to make a habit of it. This is a one-time kind of deal.”
The two of you say your brief goodbyes and Max hangs up, head shaking in bemusement. He’s not sure when his friendship with the passionate eco-warrior became so effortlessly comfortable, bantering back and forth like a long-married couple.
But he also can’t deny the way his pulse kicks up just slightly at the thought of seeing you again — windswept hair, fiery eyes, and that bright smile that still catches him off guard every time it’s directed his way.
As Max jogs out to the garage to grab his Ferrari for the short drive to the station, he vehemently tells himself it’s merely because he’s intrigued by the novelty of your clashing personalities. That your relentless conviction is a fascinating change of pace from the empty glamor that usually surrounds him.
But a tiny voice in the back of his mind whispers that he’s lying to himself. That there’s something magnetically addictive about you and your tireless ability to see the world through a different lens than his own. Something that challenges him, stimulates him, reels him in over and over again no matter how much he pretends to resist.
He quickly banishes the thought, jaw setting in stubborn determination. Max Verstappen isn’t the type to get pulled into a girl’s orbit, no matter how intriguing she might seem on the surface. He’ll bail your reckless ass out of jail, have another enjoyable round of opposition-attracts banter, and then carry on with his usual life of racing and living by his own well-established rules.
Right?
The sleek crimson SF90 Stradale tears through the winding Monaco streets, wind whipping through Max’s hair as he pushes the pedal towards the floor. The adrenaline pumping through his veins feels vaguely familiar to the thrill of a heated race — though he refuses to dwell too deeply on why bailing out an eco-terrorist gives him that same edge-of-the-seat excitement.
He pulls up to the modest local jail in record time, the guard at the entrance giving him a skeptical once-over before waving him through. No doubt recognizing the signature Ferrari and flashy persona of the championship-winning driver.
Max swaggers up to the front desk where a bored-looking officer sits shuffling through paperwork. The young man startles at his approach, shooting to attention with widened eyes.
“Oh! Mr. Verstappen, sir! How can I help you today?”
Puffing out his chest just slightly, Max gives the officer his most imposing stare. “Yeah, I’m here to post bail for one of your … residents. Y/N Vettel.”
The cop’s brow furrows as he scans the intake files. “Ah yes, here she is. Environmental activist, part of that big protest at the marina. Disturbing the peace, trespassing, and a few of them even got hit with property damage charges from graffiti.”
Max scowls, that damned protective streak rearing its ugly head again before he can stop it. “I’m only posting bail for Y/N Vettel. The hell did she get charged with?”
“Just peaceful trespassing and disturbing the peace.” The cop frowns contemplatively. “Well, and resisting arrest when she tried to stop us cuffing one of her friends. But that’s about it.”
Rubbing his temples with a pained sigh, Max can’t resist a rueful grin. “Yeah, that tracks. Listen, what’s it gonna cost me to grab her so I can get out of here?”
“For those charges? €1500 bond should cover it.”
Max scoffs at the paltry sum, already pulling out his monogrammed money clip and peeling off a stack of euros. “Whatever, here’s double. Keep the change for your trouble.”
The cop’s eyes widen almost comically, but he knows better than to question Max freaking Verstappen. Hurriedly taking the bills, he produces some paperwork for Max to sign and process the transaction.
“Alright Mr. Verstappen, just need your signature here and here. And if you’ll allow me to get your fingerprints as well for the release forms ...”
Max begrudgingly complies, wanting to get this circus over with as quickly as possible. He taps his foot impatiently as the officer takes his prints and finalizes everything in the computer system.
“Okay, all set. I’ll have one of the guards bring Miss Vettel around to the release lobby. Might be a few minutes.”
“Yeah, yeah, just hurry it up,” Max mutters distractedly.
He crosses his arms and leans back against the wall, letting his eyes drift shut for a brief moment as he tries to compose himself. Your voice rings in his ears, that unmistakable mixture of sheepishness and determination that seems to sum up your entire persona.
Goddamn it, why did you have to call him? Why couldn’t you have just phoned up your doting big brother like a normal person instead of dragging Max into this? Part of him wants to be annoyed at how easily you’re able to play him, batting those big eyes and pleading for his help like you knew he would give in.
But the thought of leaving you to stew in a dingy jail cell somehow makes his stomach twist uncomfortably. Almost like he’d be letting you down in some weird, convoluted way. Ridiculous as the notion is, Max can’t deny this increasing pull you seem to have over him.
His eyes fly open as the door to the cellblocks finally opens, heavy footsteps approaching. Max takes an automatic step forward, pulse kicking up in anticipation despite himself.
And then you’re there. Hair tousled, t-shirt and jeans covered in smears of dirt and grass stains from the protest scuffle. But those defiant eyes are still ablaze, jaw set stubbornly as the guard leads you out in handcuffs.
“Max! You’re actually here!” Your face splits into a bright, surprised grin at the sight of him.
He tries and fails to suppress his own answering smile, raking an admittedly appreciative gaze over you from head to toe. “What, you didn’t think I’d show up for my favorite little jailbird?”
Shrugging nonchalantly, you flash him a sly look from under your lashes. “I don’t know, I had my doubts Mr. Bigshot Racer would sully his palms rescuing little old me.”
“Well, you know what they say.” Max steps in close, dropping his voice to a faux-seductive murmur as he leans towards you. Your eyes widen infinitesimally but you hold his gaze, seemingly transfixed. “I just can’t seem to quit you.”
You bite your lip in a badly suppressed grin at his corny line. “Did you seriously just incorrectly quote Brokeback Mountain at me right now?”
“Maybe.” He rocks back on his heels with a shameless wink. “Doesn’t make it any less true, does it?”
A delicate blush blooms across your cheeks in a way that has Max’s heart stuttering unexpectedly. The guard clears his throat loudly, shattering the moment between you.
“Erm, right. If you’ll just sign here for Miss Vettel’s release ...” He offers a clipboard to Max.
Tearing his eyes away from you with concentrated effort, Max scrawls his signature across the form. You watch him intently, an unreadable look flickering across your features for just a moment before the guard undoes your cuffs with a loud click.
You immediately bring your newly freed hands together, rubbing at the chafed skin of your wrists gingerly. Max’s jaw tightens at the sight.
“You good?” His tone is gruff with concern despite himself.
Glancing up, you give him a reassuring smile and nod. “All good, just a little tender. It’ll be fine, I promise.”
Something about your easy dismissal of the discomfort rankles Max in a way he can’t fully explain. Like he wants to grab your hands, bring them to his lips to inspect the damage more closely. The sudden urge catches him off guard and he quickly tamps it down, fists clenching at his sides.
The guard seems oblivious to the undercurrent between you, simply giving a curt nod and motioning towards the exit. “Right then, off you go. And try to stay out of trouble from now on, Miss Vettel.”
You shoot the cop your signature wry grin. “No promises, officer.”
Rolling his eyes skyward, Max grabs your elbow lightly and ushers you towards the doors before you can cause any more scenes. You fall into step beside him easily, shoulders brushing in a way that has his skin tingling with awareness.
As the two of you step out into the late afternoon sunlight, you turn to him with those warm eyes that never fail to set his heart racing just a little faster.
“I really do owe you one, Max. Thank you for coming to my rescue, even after everything“
He gives an exaggerated huff, fighting a smile. “Well, it’s a tough job but someone’s gotta bail out all the reckless idiots who can’t stay out of handcuffs for five minutes.”
You laugh brightly, punching his arm in playful admonishment. A spark of electricity seems to jolt between you at the contact and Max freezes almost imperceptibly, mesmerized by the radiant smile you’re beaming up at him.
In that moment, with the sunlight catching in your hair and reflecting those fierce, captivating eyes, Max is struck by how breathtakingly beautiful you are. Not just physically, though that’s certainly undeniable. But the whole intoxicating aura of your idealism, your passion, your relentless fighting spirit that leaves him in a constant state of incredulous attraction no matter how much he rails against it.
You cock your head slightly, drawing him out of his reverie. “Max? You still in there?”
“Huh?” He blinks dazedly before recovering with a shake of his head, shoving his hands into his pockets in what he desperately hopes is a casual gesture. “Yeah, no, I’m good. Just thinking.”
Your brow furrows in concern as you study his face intently. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah, of course.” Max clears his throat, avoiding your piercing gaze. He nods jerkily towards the car glinting fetchingly in the sun. “Come on, let’s get out of here before they decide to re-arrest your ass for loitering.”
As the two of you make your way across the parking lot, Max resolutely ignores the persistent voice whispering that he’s in deeper than he’s willing to admit this time. That you might just be addictive enough to become something he can’t simply shake off when he’s had his fill.
But rather than finding the notion disconcerting like it should be, he finds himself fighting the strangest flicker of excitement at the prospect instead.
***
The Monaco paddock is a dizzying whirlwind of activity as teams and personnel rush about in their usual pre-race frenzy. Max weaves through the chaos towards his driver room, helmet tucked under his arm.
He pauses as a familiar voice reaches his ears — that unmistakable passionate cadence that always has a way of stopping him in his tracks these days. Max turns to see you holding court in the middle of a cluster of wide-eyed engineers and PR reps, gesticulating emphatically.
“... and that’s just the start! We also need to look into renewable energy sources to power the entire paddock operations. Sustainable cooking practices in the hospitality suites. Comprehensive recycling and composting initiatives. Not to mention overhauling the travel logistics for a lower carbon footprint when we’re shipping this whole circus around the globe every other week.”
One of the hapless reps looks shellshocked, struggling to keep up as he scribbles notes furiously. “I … yes, of course, Miss Vettel. We’ll look into all of that right away. Anything else?”
You fix the poor man with one of your signature intense stares, full lower lip catching between your teeth as you consider. Max feels his heart skip at the seemingly insignificant gesture, cursing under his breath.
“Well, we haven’t even touched on sustainable sourcing for uniforms and merchandising yet. Or the complete overhaul needed for fuel compositions and racing technology to align with a realistic net-zero roadmap.” Your eyes spark with renewed fervor. “But we can circle back on those aspects later. For now I want you to-”
Sensing an opening, the bewildered rep seizes his chance to politely extricate himself. “You know what, Miss Vettel? Why don’t I go gather all my notes on your suggestions so far and we can regroup for a more structured meeting on next steps? I’ll, uh, be in touch!”
He scampers off before you can protest, leaving the rest of the staffers gaping at you with a combination of terror and admiration. You just shake your head bemusedly, rolling your eyes skyward as you catch sight of Max watching from across the way.
“What?” You shrug innocently at his raised eyebrow, the very picture of angelic nonchalance. “Someone’s got to light a fire under these people if we want to actually get some sustainability practices in place.”
Max bites back a grin, sauntering over with exaggerated slowness. “Is that what you call demolishing that poor rep’s entire understanding of the world? Just lighting a fire?”
“Hey, we’re not being paid to settle for complacency and half-measures,” you shoot back without a shred of remorse. “I got hired to shake this whole damn organization to its core until it goes fully carbon neutral. And that’s exactly what I intend to do.”
Your unapologetic defiance never fails to send a peculiar thrill zinging through Max’s veins. He rakes an admittedly assessing gaze over your crisp pantsuit and loosely swept updo — quite a change from the scruffy activist’s getup he’s so used to seeing you in.
“You clean up nice, I’ll give you that,” he muses teasingly. “Who knew you could look so respectable in professional garb?”
Rather than rise to the bait, you simply flash him a wink and smoothing your hands over the fitted blazer, drawing his gaze helplessly to the enticing curves beneath the tailored lines. “What can I say? I’m a woman of many talents.”
Heat prickles at the base of Max’s neck at the unexpected flirtiness, his tongue suddenly thick and useless in his mouth. He quickly masks the moment of flustered silence with a dismissive scoff.
“Great, so in addition to harassing race staff you’re assaulting my senses too? Good to know where your priorities lie, Vettel.”
You laugh easily, canting a hip as you fix him with those dancing eyes that never fail to set his heart racing. “If you can’t handle a little playful banter, Verstappen, you’d better get used to keeping your distance now that we’re colleagues for the foreseeable future.”
The words slam into Max with surprising force, hitting a little too close to the bone. Unconsciously, his gaze darts over you in a way that feels far too intimate for mere colleagues. Lingering on the delicate curve of your neck as you tip your head back, the lush pout of your lips, the swaying tendrils of hair escaping your updo which he inexplicably longs to brush back into place.
All at once the reality of your new role truly sinks in — that he’ll be seeing you at every single race from now until god knows when. The thought fills Max with a dizzying blend of elation and trepidation.
On one hand, the prospect of having you perpetually woven through his life in this shiny new professional capacity is enough to make his pulse kick up in giddy anticipation.
But on the other, it terrifies him to his core. You have an uncanny ability to constantly keep him off-balance, as endlessly fascinating as you are maddening. This casual flirtation between you has taken on undercurrents he’s no longer certain he wants to shy away from acknowledging. At least, not when the thought of shutting it down fills Max with a hollow ache he can’t put words to.
He’s pulled from his spiraling reflections as an impeccably dressed older man in a crisp suit materializes at your side, placing a wizened hand on your shoulder.
“Ah, there you are, Miss Vettel! I was just coming to fetch you for our preliminary sustainability council meeting with the rest of the advisory board.” The man’s eyes twinkle with unmistakable approval as he regards you. “Although from the looks of it you’ve already started getting the lay of the land around here and, ah, asserting your new directives shall we say?”
You shoot him a conspiratorial grin, leaning in as if sharing a secret. “Let’s just say I’ve had a productive first day on the job so far, Mr. Haywood. They won’t know what hit ‘em.”
Max recognizes the man as Stephen Haywood, one of the senior F1 board members and the person primarily responsible for bringing you on in this ground-breaking new eco initiative. He chuckles indulgently at your quip.
“That’s exactly what we’re counting on from you, my dear. Ruffling some feathers and dragging this whole operation into the future, come hell or high water. I have the utmost confidence you’re going to revolutionize Formula 1 in ways we can’t even conceive yet.”
You beam at the praise, visibly swelling with determination. Haywood gives your shoulder another squeeze before gesturing down the paddock. “Shall we? We’ve got a long agenda ahead to tackle your big plans.”
“Absolutely,” you say eagerly, turning to follow him. But not before pausing to shoot Max one last heated look from over your shoulder, dropping your voice to a sultry murmur. “Don’t go too far, Verstappen. I’ve still got plenty more to say to you later.”
And with a tantalizing wink, you sashay away after Haywood in that maddeningly hypnotic way that you know reduces Max to an incoherent mess every time. All he can do is gape after your retreating figure, the sway of those hips in that perfectly tailored skirt rendering him utterly useless.
As you disappear around the corner, Max feels the dam inside him finally burst in a torrential flood of overwhelming emotion. Everything suddenly clicks into startling clarity in one shuddering epiphany that leaves him unmoored:
He’s in love with you.
Desperately, all-consumingly, recklessly in love in a way he never saw coming and is wholly unprepared to process. All those months pretending you were just an amusing diversion, a source of intrigue and refreshing friction in his otherwise orderly life. All the times he battled against the obvious chemistry simmering between you, tried to downplay it as mere physical attraction between opposing forces.
But now it washes over Max in one shattering wave of truth — the way his world tilts off-axis whenever you’re around, the gravity of your presence drawing him in against his will. How thoroughly and irrevocably you’ve embedded yourself under his skin without him ever truly realizing it was happening until now.
He grips the wall for support, legs feeling abruptly unsteady as his head spins. How is he supposed to reconcile this revelation? That his heart now lies so completely in the hands of this fierce, untamable woman utterly hellbent on dismantling and revolutionizing his entire life’s work in the name of environmentalism.
The delicious contradictions of having fallen for someone whose core values and purpose seem to exist in such direct opposition to his own are enough to make Max’s head throb dizzily. You are his antithesis in so many ways — that headstrong passion a perpetual thorn in his side, continually pushing and prodding him out of his self-imposed boundaries.
And yet … he couldn’t be more completely enthralled.
It’s that relentless challenging of his beliefs, that refusal to settle for complacency, that has drawn Max in and held him captivated against his will from the very beginning. In you he’s found a riveting counterpoint to the blinkered single-mindedness of his existence, a refreshing perspective that somehow makes him want to be a bigger, better version of himself.
Even now, just the phantom echo of your parting words has him straightening unconsciously, feeling almost chastened and bereft in the wake of your absence. Max has never been one to dwell on his emotions, preferring to analyze and compartmentalize until they’re boxed away into neat, manageable parcels.
But this all-encompassing feeling storming through him in your wake is anything but neat or manageable. It’s wild and catastrophic, crackling with the dangerous intensity of a lightning strike clawing its way across the horizon in slow motion.
Just the thought of looking into those blazing eyes and owning the truth of his feelings for you sends Max into a panic, chest squeezing with anxious breath. You have always seen through his feigned nonchalance, cut straight through to the bone with that penetrating stare. He has no idea how to even begin existing openly in the same space as you without his heart shining through brazenly for the entire world to witness.
His fist clenches against the cold metal of the garage wall as an irrational surge of bitterness lances through him. How dare you just sweep into his rigidly controlled life with all that blistering confidence and conviction, making him feel things he never wanted to feel? Upending his carefully maintained reality without a second thought, all in the name of your damned causes?
You weren’t supposed to get this far under his skin. He was just supposed to have a bit of fun, indulge in your company as a momentary diversion at most. And now Max is in so disastrously deep that he has no idea how to drag himself back out.
He doesn’t know how long he stands there warring with himself, torn between exhilarated possibility and vehement denial. What he does know is that his entire world has been turned upside down. And despite the terror rattling his bones, despite the desperate urge to somehow ignore the sheer enormity of this jolt to his system … he can’t muster the will to try and wrestle back control.
Not when the thrill of finally surrendering to you sends such intoxicating electricity crackling through every fiber of his being.
Max peels himself from the wall with renewed resolve, running a hand through his disheveled hair. He needs to steel himself, because avoiding you is clearly no longer an option. Not when your irresistible pull is only amplified now that you’ll be a near-permanent fixture in his life.
He has to face this head-on, confront the exhilarating chaos you’ve wrought in his carefully cultivated existence. Which means pushing down the churning jumble of emotions rattling around in his ribcage before they become too overwhelming.
“Get a grip, man,” Max mutters sternly to himself, knocking the heel of his palm against his temple as if to physically dislodge his internal storm. “It’s just Vettel. You’ve dealt with her shit-stirring antics a million times before. You can handle this new ... development.”
His words carry neither confidence nor conviction, but Max forges on anyway, straightening his shoulders as he plunges back into the fray of the paddock. If he can just maintain some semblance of outward equilibrium, he can get through this.
One foot in front of the other, he winds past the crowd towards his driver’s room as if in a trance. Any minute now, you’ll saunter back through in that mouthwateringly crisp ensemble, eyes bright with hard-won strategy and single minded intent.
And Max will just … what? Calmly confront you as if his entire understanding of your dynamic hasn’t undergone a seismic fucking shift in the last five minutes?
He barks out a mirthless laugh at the impossibility of such a scenario. Any pretense of indifference has surely been shattered between you now. All his meager attempts at deflecting through banter and heated bickering ring hollow to his own ears after this shattering realization.
No, for better or worse, Max has finally tumbled over that precipice he’d been teetering on for so long when it comes to you. Now more than ever before, he dreads and craves the prospect of your next meeting in equal, searing measure.
Because whether he’s ready or not … whether he thinks he can handle the fallout or not … you’ll be able to read every devastating truth written across his face this time.
When your paths inevitably cross again, Max knows there will be no more hiding from you the shift of feelings you’ve unleashed within him.
This time, he’ll be entirely and terrifyingly laid bare.
***
Three Years Later
The crisp mountain air fills Max’s lungs as he straightens up, wiping a trickle of sweat from his brow with a satisfied smile. The freshly tilled soil stretches before him in neat rows, ready and waiting to nurture the seeds you meticulously selected.
“Nice work, Mein Löwe,” you call approvingly from across the yard, one hand resting on the swell of your pregnant belly. “That plot is going to be perfect for all our veggies.”
Max’s chest warms at the undisguised pride in your voice as you survey his handiwork. Just a few years ago, he would have scoffed at the idea of voluntarily getting his hands dirty like this. But ever since that fateful day at the airport … everything has changed.
“Yeah, well, be sure to put me to work weeding and watering too,” he shoots back with an easy grin. “Gotta earn my keep as the cabana boy around here.”
You roll your eyes in playful exasperation even as an affectionate smile tugs at your lips. “I’ll be sure to get you a tiny little outfit.”
The teasing remark might have once pricked Max’s fragile ego. But now he simply shakes his head with a low chuckle, marveling at how natural, how right it feels to be the subject of your gentle ribbing. In the years since that first charged encounter, your barbs have sanded down his prickly edges until only his core of wry tenderness remains.
You cross the yard toward him, sunlight glinting off the tousled tendrils of hair that frame your face. Up close, Max can make out the dark crescent smudges under your eyes from many sleepless nights spent mapping out plans for this property — from the aerogel insulation in the walls to the extensive geothermal heating system to the solar panels spanning the roof.
Most people would have long ago surrendered in exhaustion when presented with building the world’s most environmentally sustainable home from the ground up. But not you. You had steadfastly urged him onward, determined to make this place a paragon of renewable living for your growing family.
His growing family, Max mentally corrects himself with a jolt of surprise that still hasn’t faded, even after all this time.
As if reading his mind, you pause before him, gently taking his calloused hands in yours. “Think you can handle planting all those seedlings tomorrow without me? The back pains are really kicking my ass lately.”
Max’s lips quirk upwards at the feisty lilt to your voice. “Getting a little too old to be bending over in the dirt for hours, liefje?”
“Hey, watch it!” You protest with a laugh, playfully batting at his chest. “I’m literally growing an entire human here. Maybe have some sympathy for your poor wife?”
“Alright, alright,” Max chuckles, sliding his hands reverently over the swollen curve of your belly. A sense of awe washes over him, just as it does each time he’s reminded of the incredible miracle blooming inside you — a tiny life that is half him, half this fierce, passionate woman he once couldn’t stand.
He leans in to press his forehead tenderly to yours. “I’ve got it all covered tomorrow. Why don’t you take it easy for once?”
You let out a derisive snort at the suggestion. “Yeah, like that’ll happen. Maybe if you massage my back tonight, though ...”
“Deal,” Max murmurs without hesitation, tilting his head to steal a lingering kiss.
Your lips are soft and pliant against his, still electrifying even after all this time. Max marvels yet again at this strange, thrilling new world you’ve ushered him into — one of quiet moments and domesticity and fulfillment. A world that his former self, obsessed with roaring engines and adrenaline, could have never envisioned.
But even as your mouths move in that timeless, familiar dance, Max’s mind drifts back to that fateful first encounter outside his jet all those years ago. The sheer force of your convictions had rocked him to his core then, cracking open the crusty shell around his heart. And before he could blink, you had blossomed into so much more than an impassioned activist — a friend, a confidante, a lover … and now the mother of his unborn child.
At last, you pull away with a contented sigh, cradling Max’s face in your tender palms. “Have I told you lately how grateful I am for you?”
“Once or twice,” he teases gruffly, though his chest clenches with an all too familiar ardor. “But you know I never get tired of hearing it, schatje.”
You beam up at him with utter adoration shining in your eyes. A look that never fails to disarm Max straight to his core. How had it taken so many years of chasing empty accolades for him to finally find this all-encompassing serenity?
“I just ...” You pause, worrying your full lower lip between your teeth. A sure sign you’re struggling to untangle an emotion webbed with complexity. “I never imagined I could be this … content.”
Your gaze drifts wistfully across the sweeping valley before your mountainside property, the majestic peaks dusted with snow on the horizon. For a beat, Max envisions it all through your eyes — the staggering beauty of this utopia you’ve carved out for your budding family, its self-sustaining existence treading as lightly on the earth as possible.
“After so many years fighting and railing against the system, to find this pocket of peace ...” You shake your head slowly, almost deliriously. “It’s more than I could have dreamed.”
Inexplicably, Max feels his eyes prickling with a sudden thickness at your reverent murmur. A lump forms in his throat, welling with all the indescribable gratitude and tenderness that still threatens to overwhelm him at times like this.
“You know,” he rasps out at last, tracing his thumb reverently over the sharp line of your jaw. “After that day at the airport in Nice … I tried so hard to shake the way you made me feel.”
A wistful smile plays across your lips at the memory as your eyes meet his in silent invitation. You’re hanging on his every word now — a state Max still struggles to wrap his mind around at times.
“No matter what I did, or where I traveled, part of me couldn’t escape your voice in my head,” Max continues, pushing through the lump in his throat. “Demanding that I question my way of life, open my eyes to how careless I had been.”
You nod slowly in recognition, lacing your fingers through his. The remembered combativeness from that long ago confrontation has faded now, giving way only to understanding between the two people who recognize each other most profoundly.
“At first, I just tried blocking you out,” Max admits with a rueful chuckle. He dips his head until your foreheads are brushing again as his voice lowers to an intimate rasp. “But the more I pushed you away, the deeper you burrowed inside me. Until I finally stopped fighting it and just … listened.”
He feels your sharp inhale as his words skate warmth down your skin. Slowly, almost unconsciously, your fingers tighten around his in solidarity.
“And look at us now,” you murmur at last, awestruck and achingly tender all at once.
In your eyes, Max glimpses the past, present and future stretching out in dizzying symmetry — those first fierce sparks of passion blossoming into the steadfast love that shelters your growing family. He sees the painstaking nurturing required to transform a confrontation into a partnership over years of effort and understanding.
Most of all, he sees the promise of new dawns yet to come, with each one awakening to your cherished, reverent teachings about the earth’s splendor and fragility.
His heart clenches fit to burst as Max drinks in your beauty — flushed and glowing with new life, still beaming with that incandescent fire that had first seared into his soul. Only now, it burns only for him, a flame stoking devotion and passion and sanctuary.
Just as Max leans in to capture your mouth in a searing kiss, the shrill chime of the doorbell shatters the moment. You spring apart with a breathless laugh.
“Fuck, I forgot Seb was supposed to be coming over today!” You give Max’s chest one last pat before turning toward the house, waddling slightly with the added weight of your pregnant belly.
Max grins fondly, trailing after you at a more leisurely pace. He can’t resist one last admiring glance over his shoulder at the pristine vegetable garden stretching behind the cottage — an oasis of sustainable beauty, just like the life you’ve created here.
As you reach the front door, pulling it open eagerly, Sebastian’s familiar lopsided grin greets you both from the other side. Your brother’s eyes immediately zero in on your rounded midsection, his expression melting into one of pure adoration.
“Oh, Bärchen, you’re positively glowing!” He exclaims, sweeping you into a gentle hug. “How’s my little niece or nephew treating their mom?”
You let out a dramatic groan, leaning back to shoot Max an exaggerated look of suffering. “This kid’s already high maintenance, just like their father. I’ve got swollen ankles, back pains, you name it.”
“Hey now,” Max interjects with a chuckle, sidling up to join the familiar banter. He claps Sebastian’s shoulder affectionately. “If they end up being anything like you in the baby stage, we’re in for a whole new world of sleep deprivation.”
Sebastian returns the grin, unfazed. “Like you aren’t an even bigger handful than me.”
You snort indelicately, looping your arm through Max’s as you shuffle back to allow Sebastian inside. “Are you kidding? With my influence, this baby will be an expert environmentalist before they’re out of diapers.”
“You wish,” Max shoots back with a smirk, his eyes twinkling. He knows better than anyone the depth of your convictions — and appreciates them more than he can put words to.
As the three of you bicker playfully, Max’s chest fills with an overwhelming sense of contentment. Just a few years ago, he could have scarcely imagined this scenario — the love of his life heavy with his child, her doting brother at their side, their sprawling eco-paradise as the idyllic backdrop.
But now, as he guides you both into the spacious, sunlit living room, Max knows without a doubt that this is exactly where he belongs.
Here, sheltered in the passionate wake of your ceaseless quest to better the world. Here, in the eye of the storm you had first raged into his life, upending everything until his soul had no choice but to still and listen.
You shoot him a private smile, reading his thoughts as easily as breathing. In your bright eyes, Max sees the future stretching out blissfully — a path paved by your determined heart that he will gladly tread in partnership forever.
All because on one fateful day, you had dared to make him question everything. And in doing so, unveiled the peace and purpose he never knew he craved.
#f1 imagine#f1#f1 fic#f1 fanfic#f1 fanfiction#f1 x reader#f1 x you#max verstappen#mv1#max verstappen imagine#max verstappen x reader#max verstappen x you#max verstappen fic#max verstappen fluff#max verstappen fanfic#max verstappen blurb#f1 fluff#f1 blurb#f1 one shot#f1 x y/n#f1 drabble#f1 fandom#f1blr#f1 x female reader#max verstappen x female reader#max verstappen x y/n#red bull racing#max verstappen one shot#max verstappen drabble
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'cause i don't think that they'd understand || ln4 x reader (Part 1)
Summary: Lando just wants to walk down to the garage before the Miami race with you by his side. George and Carmen walked in together, Alex and Lily walked in together, so why can't you, as well? Despite your self-consciousness, you agree to walk hand-in-hand with him down to the garage right before the big race, but it's a much harder ask for you than anyone could ever realize.
Plus-size (she/her) Reader x Lando Norris
Warnings: Brief mentions of nausea/being sick, panic, reader is plus-sized and very down on herself about it, weight mentions, ect.
Characters: Lando Norris (your boyfriend) and feat Oscar Piastri as a last minute saving grace for you.
Rating: G, for now.
“I want you to walk down to the garage with me.”
You blink in surprise, Lando’s words are so sudden and so firm that it makes goosebumps raise on your skin. Walk to the garage with him? But that would mean…
“What? Why?” you ask, folding down the page in the book you’re reading, before placing it down softly on the table beside you. A slugging, churning feeling arises in your gut as you realize exactly what it is he’s asking of you.
“What do you mean ‘why’? You’re my girlfriend, I want you to walk with me into the garage.” He says, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. And, perhaps, for any other woman in this world it might just be.
But it isn’t for you. This is quite possibly one of the most difficult things he could ever ask you to do, and that alone makes you feel horrible. Lando deserves a normal girlfriend, who can react normally to very normal situations. Not someone who makes his life even more difficult than it already is.
You sigh heavily, knowing if you refuse you will just upset him. “I - are you sure you want to be seen with me? People will talk and they won’t be nice…”
“Babe, we’ve had this conversation before. Just one walk down to the garage with me, that’s all I’m asking.”
You frown again, daring to look up and meet his gaze. He doesn’t seem angry, but there’s a desperation in his eyes, something that tugs at your heartstrings. What Lando doesn’t realize is that the backlash won’t fall too heavily on him - but on you…?
Oh, the fans and the media will eat you up. Lando is dating a fat girl? That will decorate the tabloid headlines for days, perhaps even weeks or months. The thought alone makes you sick. But how can you say no to him when he’s so earnest, when he wants to show you off, regardless if you deserve it or not?
“Yeah, okay.” You finally reply, looking away from Lando and down to the floor. He notices this, however, and kneels down in front of you, grabbing one of your hands in both of his own. His hands are so warm and so immediately comforting, working to ease the rapid beat of your heart in your chest.
“It’ll be okay. I promise. And just think, you’ll finally be able to come see the garage and paddock!” His voice is so cheerful, so genuinely happy and excited for you to be there with him. It’s touching, to say the least, but you are loath to admit that your excitement level is not nearly on par with his. Not even slightly.
“Yeah, I know. I’ve wanted to see them for so long.” The lack of enthusiasm in your voice does dull the excitement in his eyes, but he holds steady. Admirable, really. A trait you wish you could share with him.
“It’s almost time. Why don’t you go ahead and get ready, and we can walk down in about an hour?”
An hour? Well - here’s hoping you can actually make yourself look even somewhat presentable in such a short amount of time.
“You’ll help me pick out my dress, right?” you ask.
The light immediately comes back to his eyes, and he beams at you with the very same smile that won your heart the night you met him.
“Of course! Fashion show time!”
~~
Lando ends up picking the teal colored sundress, something that suits your taste and simultaneously compliments some of your key features. It fits well, with no need for you to suck in your stomach to make it look nicer or more appealing, and hides some of your less than desirable attributes (the rolls, god, the rolls) with ease.
You feel comfortable enough, with only a light amount of makeup on your face, and your feet are settled into white flats instead of the heels you had originally picked out. Lando liked them as well, but urged you to go for something more comfortable and carefree.
You genuinely do feel okay, but the bitter taste of anxiety still stirs the acid of your stomach as you think about the amount of eyes that will be on you and Lando in a few moments.
“Hey beautiful,” Lando says, coming up behind you and wrapping his arms around your waist. On instinct, you suck in your stomach to try and lessen the circumference of your belly. Lando tenses, but he doesn’t push the issue, keeping you nestled safely in his arms as he presses a kiss to the back of your neck. “You just about ready?”
“Ready as I’ll ever be.” you reply softly, leaning only a portion of your weight back against him. He doesn’t let go for a few moments, and you can feel the warmth of his breath against the shell of your ear.
“I’m proud of you. I know you’re scared, and I know you’re only doing this for me, but I hope you can manage to enjoy it as well. You may not want the world to know you’re mine, but I do.” Lando explains, nipping at your ear with gentle teeth. It sends a shiver down your spine, and you cannot help but smile at his antics.
“Well, we’ll see what all the news sources are saying in the morning. You know for a fact my issue isn’t being seen with you, it’s you being seen with me.”
“Who cares what they say? How I feel about you is what matters, not what the public thinks about a relationship they know nothing about.” Lando’s voice is firm and leaves no room for argument - likely because this IS an argument the two of you have had time and time again.
You open your mouth to respond, but Lando’s PR Agent gestures a bit frantically at you both and all of a sudden, Lando is no longer behind you but at your side, lacing your fingers together.
“Deep breath, babe. It’s go time.”
Oh.
You take a deep breath and hold it in your lungs, fearful that if you breathe at all, you might mess this up entirely. Lando’s hand is warm and firm in your own, steady while your mentality feels anything but. There’s no time to prepare yourself for the walk - Lando is moving and on instinct, you move fluidly alongside him. Your heart is racing impossibly hard in your chest and somehow only gets faster as you step out onto the grass and the sun shines down upon you and Lando like a blinding spotlight.
You hear the clicking of cameras before you see the media snapping shots of you and Lando as you walk hand-in-hand towards the McLaren garage. You can already hear the shouts of fans at home, screaming about how Lando could possibly be dating someone so fat and unattractive when he’s literally a celebrity and could have anyone he wanted. You can see the offensive articles, wondering what’s gone wrong in Lando’s head to be dating someone so average and so unathletic when all of the other drivers are dating what could be (and in some cases ARE) models.
So many eyes are on you both, and you still haven’t been able to take a breath just yet. You feel Lando’s hand squeeze yours, but you are unable to squeeze back. You just want to be at the garage and tucked back away from the eyes of the media so you can regain your bearings.
And then finally, after what feels like a marathon of a walk, you feel the grass turn to solid ground beneath your feet and the smells of the garage hit your senses like a brick wall. Everything slowly comes back into focus and you realize you’ve finally made it to the other side. Your gut is churning, but you let out the breath you have been holding since you took your first step out and it eases some of the bubbling tension in your chest.
Lando’s hand leaves yours fairly suddenly, but he immediately pops up in your line of sight, beaming at you like you’ve just handed him the sun, the moon, and all the stars. You swallow thickly, hoping to keep down the nausea that threatens you, and offer up a tight smile of your own.
“That wasn’t so bad, was it?” He asks, pulling you in by your waist and pressing a kiss to your forehead. You are still within sight of the media cameras and you hear a few clicking somewhere off to your right, which does little to help quell the nausea.
“It was fine, yeah.” You say, and it’s incredible just how weak your own voice sounds. “Can we, uh - can we go someplace in the back for a minute? Away from the cameras?”
“Of course,” Lando says, and concern begins to blossom on his features. His eyebrows furrow, gaze focused solely on you as you still try your best to smile at him. “I have to get changed into my kit anyway.”
Lando’s hand is back in yours instantly, and he gently guides you through crew members and winding hallways until you’re far enough away from all of the commotion that you can barely hear it anymore. Your breath is shaky as you inhale, but the relief is almost immediate now that you are out of the public eye.
“Are you okay?” Lando asks after a few seconds of studying your face. “I’m sorry, that was too much, wasn’t it?”
“No, no, no.” you interrupt him, taking another deep breath and letting it out slowly. “It’s just a lot. I’m not used to these kinds of things, not like you are. And there were so many cameras…”
“You learn to ignore the cameras.” He says, giving your hand a reassuring squeeze. “Try not to worry about them, they’re just an annoyance anyway. You’re here to watch me race, and I promise you the McLaren crew will take great care of you while you do.”
Your smile feels a bit more genuine now as the nerves begin to drift off. You know you’ll have cameras in your face likely the entire time Lando is racing, but knowing that you have the support of McLaren while you’re here helps a bit. Lando has been with these people for years now, you can only imagine they’ve grown quite close in that time.
“I’m sure they will. I - uh - is there a bathroom back here somewhere?” You look around a bit frantically, overcome by the sudden intense nausea that hits you now that the worst of the nerves have tapered off. Sweat builds on your forehead and you begin to feel a bit clammy and lightheaded, but Lando either doesn’t notice, or you’ve managed to keep yourself steady enough as to not rouse suspicion.
“Oh, yeah, I’ll take you there,” he says, looking around to gain his bearings. He circles his fingers around your wrist and leads you back towards the heart of the garage, but stops before you get to the more heavily trafficked areas. It’s a small, unassuming restroom meant for one person at a time, but it will do. “Here you are. I actually need to change, so I’ll come back for you once I’m set up, okay?”
“Sounds good.” You confirm, leaning in to kiss him when you see him do the same. He offers you a comforting smile and then takes off into the clamor of the garage to get himself ready for the race. You watch him weave through crowds of crew and media personnel, and once he’s no longer within your sight, you turn around and rush into the bathroom without a moment to spare.
The nausea is almost overpowering, and you can’t even make it to the toilet before you feel your stomach rolling. You grasp desperately at the vanity, emptying your nerves into the sink with a violent heave and a shudder. Panic is starting to claw its way up your throat now that you’ve been sick, and you grip the sides of the vanity so tightly that your knuckles turn white. The nausea, thankfully, goes away now that you’ve emptied your stomach into the sink, but a much worse feeling creeps up to take its place.
You reach forward with trembling hands and turn on the sink, cleaning out the mess you’ve just made. Thankfully, a few splashes of water around the sink (and a few swishes in your mouth) manage to clean out everything so there’s no evidence left of your struggle.
You back yourself against the wall now, feeling your heart beating faster all over again, and the sweat begins to feel cold on your forehead. Panic is no new sensation, but you can’t help but curse the timing of this attack. It makes sense - given the overstimulation and the nervousness you just fought your way through, but you had hoped deep in your heart that you would be able to handle this without a breakdown.
You could not have been more wrong.
You begin to take deep, shuddering breaths at far too rapid a pace. You know you have to get your breathing under control, or this will spiral until you’re pathetically hyperventilating alone in a McLaren bathroom. You rush forward to turn the water back on, hoping that splashing some on your face might help snap you out of it, when you hear the handle of the restroom door jiggle.
Your stomach lurches again when you realize in your haste, you forgot to lock the door.
“Yeah, mate. I’ll be back in a few.” You hear a familiar voice say, muffled slightly by the noise buzzing around the garage.
As soon as the person steps inside the restroom and your eyes meet, you feel like you could be sick again. It’s none other than Oscar Piastri, Lando’s teammate and friend at McLaren, and he’s staring at you with wide, concerned eyes.
“Hey,” he greets, and it’s so incredibly soft - as if he might be speaking to a cornered, wounded animal. “Hey, are you alright?”
You can’t reply to him just yet - your breathing is out of control and nausea is hitting you again from the depths of absolute hell. As if this day couldn’t have possibly gotten any worse, you WOULD have a mental breakdown in front of Lando’s teammate.
You simply stare back at him in shock, like he’s the most terrifying thing you could possibly see, and you finally manage to choke out a weak and pitiful, “No.”
You watch as Oscar gently locks the door behind you both - a blessing, really, to keep anyone else from walking in on you in such an embarrassing state. He keeps his expression neutral, only taking one step into the bathroom with his hands palm-up to show he means no harm.
“You need to breathe, okay? Think you can breathe with me?” Oscar asks, his voice echoing in the small space. He swallows thickly, another sound that’s easy to pick up in the confined space, but he patiently waits for you to respond.
“I don’t - I don’t know -” you reply, hands slapping against the wall as you try to find something to grip onto for balance. “I don’t know.”
“Why don’t we give it a try, at least?” Oscar tries again, looking far more concerned than you think he has any right to be. He hardly knows you, after all.
“I - I can -” but the words die on your lips as your legs give out beneath you. You fall to your knees on the tile floor and that’s when Oscar jumps quickly into action. You feel unfamiliar arms wrap around your shoulders, a cushion to keep your head from smashing against the floor, and the last thing you see are Oscar’s frightened eyes above you, the echo of your name frantically erupting from the back of his throat as your vision fades out.
#lando norris#lando norris x reader#x reader#f1 fanfic#formula 1 fanfic#x reader fanfic#f1 x reader#plus sized reader#driver x reader#hides my face under all these tags#this is my first ever x reader so be kind thanks
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Synastry 3rd House: What You Think Of Your Partner 🧠
**Intro To Synastry Charts**
For those who are new to astrology or don’t know (because yes we need to be nice to the newbies too) a synastry chart is a chart that compares two individual’s charts together to see how they connect. A synastry chart is an amazing tool to see the energy two beautiful beings have together & the way two individuals feel about one another.
3rd house synastry connections are all about communication; that back and forth chemistry that you have with someone, that person whose mind intrigues your soul, the one who you have late night conversations with for hours because you could just talk to them forever. The planet person will feel intellectually intrigued & connected to the house person’s mind, so much so that they will want to be a sort of teacher to the house person to help them grow. The house person will be stimulated & their immediate environment will be affected by the planet person’s presence. The 3rd house exists within our community, school, & our daily commute. This type of bond would be perfect for friends, siblings (or sibling-like connections), & teacher-student relationships. These connections are not known to be the most romantic, however they do spark genuine mutual curiosity between each other.
🧠 Sun in the 3rd House: “I think about who you are.”
“You should probably take your heels off, ‘Cause you've been running through my mind” - ROS by Mac Miller
how the planet person feels about the 3rd house person: as the sun person, they find the house person’s mind to be bright like the sun itself, brilliant. they enjoy talking about the most mundane day to day things with the 3rd house person, just simple conversation brings joy to each others lives. they find the house person’s perspective to be true & right.
how the 3rd house person feels about the planet person: the 3rd house person feels mentally stimulated around the sun person, just being around them motivates them to expand their mind. they may engage in more conversations with the sun person by their side, which could potentially make them feel more confident intellectually. they may even enjoy short trips together.
**conversation starters between the two of you: how to improve yourself, stories about your life, your daily activities, & “how was your day?”
🧠 Moon in the 3rd House: “I think about how you feel.”
“We can sit and talk. You can tell me everything that's on your chest, baby, get it off. You are my type, you a bright light, I’m like a moth….” - WusYaName by Tyler, The Creator
how the planet person feels about the 3rd house person: the moon person feels naturally supportive & understanding of the 3rd house person. they genuinely agree with the way the 3rd house person emotionally expresses themselves & therefore feel it’s very easy for them to have their back. there may be a chance that your connection is telepathic, like the two of you can read each other’s minds.
how the 3rd house person feels about the planet person: the 3rd house person will feel so comfortable to open up to the moon person. the moon person would make an incredible confidant for them to share their deepest thoughts with. something about the way the moon person speaks makes the 3rd house person feel safe & nurtured.
**conversation starters between the two of you: the current emotions your feeling, your favorite guilty pleasures, your deepest vulnerabilities, & ways you help your heart heal
🧠 Mercury in the 3rd House: “I think about our conversations.”
“Yours, mine, ours. I could do this for hours. Sit and talk to you for hours. I wanna give you your flowers” - Hrs & Hrs by Muni Long
how the planet person feels about the 3rd house person: the mercury person is so stimulated by the 3rd house person’s mind, they feel like their intellectual connection is unmatched. this is a very favorable mercury overlay as mercury is home in the 3rd house. this is the type of connection where the two can sit and talk for hours & hours.
how the 3rd house person feels about the planet person: when around the mercury person, the 3rd house person feels free to communicate & express any thought that comes to mind. the 3rd house person may be more outgoing & talkative around the mercury person, they will feel brought out of their shell. this is a mental connection that is truly special.
**conversation starters between the two of you: fun things to do with friends, new ideas, their new favorite movies/tv shows, & literally anything that comes to mind
🧠 Venus in the 3rd House: “I think about our love.”
“No matter what I do. All I think about is you. Even when I'm with my boo. Boy, you know I'm crazy over you” - Dilemma by Nelly
how the planet person feels about the 3rd house person: the venus person will think very romantically about the 3rd house person. it feels natural and easy to talk & express themselves to each other, like their genuine friends from the start. the two of them are likely to speak sweet sentiments to each other, this is the type of couple to say lovey-dovey things & have pet names for each other.
how the 3rd house person feels about the planet person: the 3rd house person will appreciate how genuine & real the venus person is when they talk. there is something about the way the venus person speaks to the 3rd house person that is sweet & loving. this is a placement where the venus person will love to express their romantic feelings for the 3rd house person with writing such as love notes, cards, songs, & poetry.
**conversation starters between the two of you: your favorite music, compliment each other, share your love languages, & how much you love each other
🧠 Mars in the 3rd House: “I think about your brilliant energy.”
“And when we get to arguing. Just gotta kiss you. Baby, I don't know why it's like that. But you're just so damn sexy. When you're mad” - When You’re Mad by Ne-Yo
how the planet person feels about the 3rd house person: the mars person may think about the intimacy between them & the 3rd house person often. the relationship between these two is stimulating filled with banter, this is the type of couple you see play arguing with each other. it is important to note however to make sure the fun banter does not turn into harsh arguments.
how the 3rd house person feels about the planet person: it is likely these two mutually enjoy passionate debates that may increase attraction between them. the 3rd house person may find the mars person’s voice very sexually attractive, they may keep them enticed with every word. just be careful the fiery banter doesn’t turn into mind games or worse, aggressive disagreements.
**conversation starters between the two of you: what turns you on, a controversial topic, how to best handle conflict, & dirty talk
🧠 Jupiter in the 3rd House: “I think about your curious spirit.”
“To a place far beyond in a whole 'nother galaxy. Travel in your mind explore your sexuality. Melt your imagination and mold it into reality” Rockin’ That Thang (Remix) by The-Dream
how the planet person feels about the 3rd house person: the jupiter person will feel like the 3rd house person helps give them confidence to share their worldly wisdom & their spiritual knowledge. they may discuss metaphysical & philosophical topics as this connection is all about expanding their minds. this would be a great connection to explore other cultures & learn a new language together.
how the 3rd house person feels about the planet person: this connection allows the 3rd house person to expand their mind & explore topics that may be foreign to them. thanks to the jupiter person, they become more optimistic & spiritual than they were before. the 3rd house person would love to learn with the jupiter person by their side.
**conversation starters between the two of you: places to travel around the world, metaphysical theories, foreign cultures, & books that help expand your worldview
🧠 Saturn in the 3rd House: “I think about your wisdom.”
“She was in my math class. Long hair, brown skin with the fat ass. Sat beside me, used to laugh at mad jokes. The teacher always got mad so we passed notes” - Wet Dreamz by J. Cole
how the planet person feels about the 3rd house person: the saturn person will help ground the 3rd house person’s more distracted mind. this is very much a student-teacher dynamic, they will help teach each other new perspectives. the saturn person may get frustrated at times with the 3rd house person as they are like a wise mentor to them, but regardless they will be motivated to push them to their best selves.
how the 3rd house person feels about the planet person: the 3rd house person will be challenged by the saturn person to really focus on what matters to them. there may be an air of seriousness & maturity to their conversations, they will see the saturn person as a sort of teacher. if they can push pass the sometimes rigid and sternness of this dynamic, they can really learn & grow exponentially thanks to the saturn person’s influence.
**conversation starters between the two of you: self-growth, best study techniques, how to work past mental blocks, & your favorite fields of interest
🧠 Uranus in the 3rd House: “I think about your genius.”
“This is what the world is for. Making electricity. You can feel it in your mind. Oh, you can do it all the time. Plug it in, change the world. You are my electric girl” - Electric Feel by MGMT
how the planet person feels about the 3rd house person: their connection is intellectually stimulating for both of them, the uranus person may feel excited when their around the 3rd house person. this is a great partnership to experiment with radical ideas & look at the world from a different perspective. the 3rd house person may inspire the uranus person to use their intellect to create a book or class to share their unique thoughts.
how the 3rd house person feels about the planet person: the 3rd house person may quite literally feel “electrified” around the uranus person. the uranus person may introduce the 3rd house person to unconventional topics such as metaphysical ideas, conspiracy theories, & various sciences. this connection can give the 3rd house person the confidence to be daring & express their unique thoughts.
**conversation starters between to the two of you: conspiracy theories, global reform, how to change outdated mindsets, & the latest technologies
🧠 Neptune in the 3rd House: “I think about you in daydreams.”
“'Cause you are my universe, my everything, my sunset. You still give me butterflies. My lullaby, you are. Everything I wanted” - Universe by Thuy
how the planet person feels about the 3rd house person: the neptune person person will find a channel for their inner imagination due to the influence of the 3rd house person. this connection will combine the dreaminess of intuition within their day to day life, their mind will explore spiritual worlds. the 3rd house person may be a sort of muse for the neptune person.
how the 3rd house person feels about the planet person: with the neptune person around, the 3rd house person feels deeply connected to the spiritual realm. if the 3rd house person is very logical by nature, the neptune person will remind them of the unseen world & that some things cannot be explained rationally. creativity is strong in this combination.
**conversation starters between to the two of you: metaphysical theories, your favorite creative outlet, the spiritual world, & how to be more compassionate in life
🧠 Pluto in the 3rd House: “I think about your depth.”
“She said, ‘What if I dive deep? Will you come in after me? Would you share your flaws with me? Let me know’. I told her, ‘Thinking is all wrong. Love will happen when it wants. I know it hurts sometimes, but don't let it go" - Honesty by Pink Sweat$
how the planet person feels about the 3rd house person: the pluto person will find the 3rd house person’s mind to be charming & intense, their depth will draw the pluto person in like a moth to a flame. there is a lot of potential in this connection for mental transformation & breaking old toxic thought patterns. the pluto person will respect the 3rd house person’s intellectual depth & my want to collaborate with them on creative work.
how the 3rd house person feels about the planet person: the 3rd house person will find the pluto person to be powerful & persuasive with their words. this connection has tremendous possibility to show the 3rd house person their own inner psychology & where they need to let go of toxic beliefs. there may be some pain in the growth, but the outcome holds significant potential for the 3rd house person to transform their mind like a butterfly.
**conversation starters between the two of you: your inner selves, traumas to be healed, in-depth information on their favorite topic, & how you can transform your mindset for the best
-A.A.
please check out my upcoming creative instagram. thank you in advance for the support! 🤍 IG: dredivine.creates
#astrology#zodiac#aries#taurus#gemini#cancer#leo#virgo#libra#scorpio#sagittarius#capricorn#aquarius#pisces#synastry#3rd house synastry#astro
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Dad!Aventurine Headcanons
Warning/s: None and reader's gender isn't mentioned, whether the child is adopted or your own is up to you
Notes: I wish I had a dad🧍 /j
im fully convinced aventurine is a girl dad and it's hard to convince me otherwise
with his job, dad!aven couldn't spend that much time with his little girl as much as he wanted, the days where he wasn't needed to leave for different planets were far and between
and when he leaves, it takes weeks to months before he comes home despite trying his very best to finish his assignment quickly so, even though he knows it won't exactly be comparable to his presence in his daughter’s life, he sends gifts and toys. whatever she wanted, he’d give it to her
dad!aven would often call you when he's away, face timing to see and talk to you and your daughter. it'd send a pang of guilt and pain in his heart to see the frown and the tears she held back whenever he said he wouldn't be home yet
he’d be the type to rewatch the videos you’d send of you and your kid just enjoying your days whenever he misses you both, a smile on his face as he grows more determined to finish his work to come home to you
he loves his family, and treats you two as his most precious treasures, more precious than anything else in the galaxy. you’re the only ones he has left, after all. he thought his luck had ran out when you and your daughter entered his life, because he couldn't get any luckier
but whenever the man’s home, oh boy does the house get so lively
dad!aven would go along with his daughter’s wishes, doing whatever she wanted so you often had to help your husband wipe the thick make up off of his face that your daughter applied on him when they played
you remember walking in on them having a pretend tea party where they gossiped about the other ‘guests’ which were her plushies, he looked like he was enjoying it more than your daughter
they'd make bracelets together, and he'd proudly wear the bracelet his daughter made for him even though the colors didn't really look that good together or with his outfit. in his eyes, it was perfect and he'd bring it up to whoever he was talking to at work even though no one asked
dad!aven would be the type to sneak sweets for your daughter even though you told him not to because dinner was almost done, he was a victim to your daughter’s puppy eyes and pout
he once spent a day out to bond with his daughter, insisting you go and rest and have some you time while he takes care of your daughter. you later found out he took her to the casino, and the way you scolded their ears off after made him remind himself not to do it again
dad!aven was an entirely different person than the aventurine of the ten stonehearts. he was but a loving father that treasured both you and his daughter
“daddy, move! you’re heavy!” your daughter whined as she tried to push her father who was leaning against her on the couch as they waited for you to finish preparing for the day out
aventurine dramatically gasped, looking down at his daughter with a faux offended look, “do you not want my love and affection anymore?”
the child, who genuinely thought she hurt her father's feelings, stammered, “n-no!”
“‘no’?” he echoed, his acting skills quite helpful when teasing his little girl as he looked away, sniffing as if he was actually crying
“i-i mean!” she stood on the couch, wrapping her short arms around his shoulders, “i still want daddy’s hugs! even when im older! i don't want you to leave again!”
his teasing might've gotten a bit too far when she began to sob, aventurine internally panicked as he embraced her, rubbing her back, “hey now, daddy was just teasing.”
“why is our little girl crying, kakavasha?”
the moment he heard your voice, he knew he was done for
#honkai star rail#hsr#honkai star rail fanfic#aventurine#hsr aventurine#aventurine x reader#aventurine fanfic#i miss aventurine imma go play and stare at him#the things id do for him:((
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I'm sorry but I'm so down bad for Miguel with a belly bulge kink like how can he not ram into you as you let out cute, pretty little tears bwixhsbsbsnd I'm sorry
We're all so down for Miguel *Cries* This man needs to be real one way or another, but in the meantime, I got chu fam.
Warning: MINORS DNI, SMUT, belly bulge, teasing, oral (f-receiving), creampie, praise kink, aftercare
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There were a lot of things that Miguel loved about you.
It would take days for Miguel to list them out for you. Normally, he would praise you every chance he got. Sometimes, when he left like bullying you, he would give you short, simple responses. Those comments were much like....
Your personality; your hardworking nature; your looks; your body; your smile; and most of all, the way how you get when he shoved his dick inside you.
Miguel LOVED it when those pretty eyes of yours formed tears as his cock pounded into that pretty little cunt of yours. Your cries and moans as his own eyes glistered towards the bulge his dick was making against your belly.
Ever since the first time you two had sex, Miguel made it a mission to get you fucked out each time. He loved watching you break against the sheer force of his dick and stamina.
It always started with some foreplay and teasing.
Miguel would approach you from behind, his hands all over your body. Circling, stroking and rubbing against your skin. Waiting for permission with your soft moans of approval. Everything leading up to his lips against your breasts...
Fingers against your clit.
Miguel would watch as you squirm and tremble from his movements. How your clit twitched with ever rub. How wet your pussy would get once Miguel toyed with you. He always had a mission to make you cum once with his fingers.
Miguel would have you sitting in his lap when you cum. Enjoying how your body flinched forward as you clenched against his fingers. The low groan that he would make when he would lay you on the bed, ready to give you the night of your life.
But not just yet.
Miguel would sometimes savor the moment and eat you out. Sometimes when he knew it was going to be a long night, he would want to make you cum again by just his mouth. He had to get his baby ready for his dick.
The feeling of your legs wrapped around his head, your body squirming away...just made the game so much more fun. Miguel would grip your hips, pulling you closer with every lick. Your pretty pussy fluttering against his mouth as he made you cum undone once more.
Oh the praises he would give you after doing such a good job.
"That's my girl,"
"So good for me,"
"Don't worry, baby. You've doing great."
Miguel loved getting your spirits up as he slid his cock into your pulsing cunt. Your whines as you arched your back, giving Miguel more fuel. He would whisper more sweet praises as he watched his cock make itself at home inside you.
"Always so perfect."
"Doing so-so good for me, baby."
The drool that would roll down you lips was always a go sign for Miguel. He would kiss your neck before ramming himself inside you. The sweet sound of your moans filling the room as Miguel focused on your belly bulging slightly.
Oh, how he wish he could cum at that moment. Miguel loved watching his dick mess up your insides. Having your body shape to his length. Having your body cum to his might. Watching his dick ram inside you and bulge your belly just made him go feral.
"Awe, is my dick too much, baby?"
"Look at you taking me so well,"
"Mhm, just want me all the way in, huh?"
Miguel knew that his praises were going over your head as you grew fucked out. Cute little babbles coming out of your mouth as you craved for Miguel.
Of course, Miguel would reward you. Miguel would make sure to fill you to the brim. Not only did he love watching your belly bulge because of his cock, but also from his cum. The fact that he filled you up was proof that you were his.
Miguel would never stop at one. He wanted to make sure that by the time he was done, there was cum oozing from your pretty little pussy. So much so that Miguel always hoped that you would feel pregnant, but not so, just so he could have a reason to fill you again.
"Mhm, such a good girl, drinking every last drop."
"Wanna have my baby that bad? What a good girl,"
Miguel would sometimes lose himself in the thought of fucking you senseless that he would go too far. The amount of times that you fell unconscious from the intense, yet blissful, sex was starting to make him lose count.
Although, Miguel would always make it up to you.
After admiring how full your pussy was. Miguel would be sure to carry you to the bathroom. He would wash you with upmost care, watching your sensitive body twitch from his touch. He found it difficult to not fuck you full again after cleaning you.
Afterward, he would change the bedsheets and give you the most comfortable pajamas you owned....his. When you awoke, Miguel would be sure to have breakfast, water and vitamins ready for you to eat.
After all, he needed to take care of his girl since you did such a good job taking care of him.
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Hehehe, a little different than what I usually write, but I hope you enjoyed~
#spiderman 2099#miguel spiderman#miguel o’hara x reader#miguel spiderverse#atsv miguel#miguel o'hara x reader#miguel o'hara#across the spiderverse#miguel x you#miguel o'hara smut
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I've been listening to the prophecy by taylor and i have thoughts, so bare with me on this one.
some people might look at this thing like a superpower, like something cool to trick people with or scare the shit out of them.
tommy thinks of it more as a curse than anything else. a punishment from above— maybe he's done awful, terrible things in some pasts lives and now he's paying the consequences.
truth is, he doesn't know. he can guess, can try to feel his way through the dark like a lost, blind man, but he's probably never gonna know why he is the way he is, why he can see the things he sees.
it started around the time he was nine, he thinks. when he went to hug her grandma, and suddenly he had this vision— like a short movie playing in his head, of how his grandma would die.
tommy hugged her and then there it was in his mind, he could hear her heartbeat and saw her laying in bed, so calm and at peace in her sleep, when her heart slowly stops.
tommy remembers crying out, screaming, pulling away from her in fear, much to the confusion of everyone in his family. his grandma was okay! she was right there! no one believed him when he told them what he saw, what he felt.
(nana june died that very night, in her sleep. just like tommy predicted.)
tommy realized pretty quickly that this was not something he could share with anyone else. not when he ran into his teacher at the grocery store three weeks later and saw how the woman would die in a tragic car crash in just a couple of weeks. not when he kissed a boy for the very first time when he was sixteen and saw he would die from a freak accident at a football game, of all places— a fatal hit to the head would be the end of a life cut too short.
his life became a swirl of death and fear and loneliness.
he pulled away from everyone. what was the point anyway? if he knew the end of their stories? why get atta hed, get close, when he knew the specific details of their deaths and would have to bare that weight on his shoukders all on his own?
(he made the mistake once of falling in love when he was in college. with matthew— a guy who would die of old age, at ninety-five years old. at home, holding the hand of his husband... that was definitely noy tommy.
it was okay. he figured he could have some fun and enjoy whatever time he could. but it only earned him a broken heart and matthew calling him a freak when tommy explained why he couldn't say i love you to him, why he couldn't truly commit.
he has trusted matthew with his deepest secret, with this curse that tommy has no other choice but to live with it. and it ended up in tears and half the campus thinking he was a psycho.)
since then, tommy vowed to never make that mistake again. to keep his distance with people.
and he's been successful, for the most part. he has some friends, of course, but he doesn't let his relationships get too deep, keeping everyone at arm's length.
it's for the best, really.
and he's... not happy, but content. maybe. comfortable.
until evan buckley comes crashing into his life, figuratively and literally speaking.
the guy is— adorable.
tommy has no other word to describe him.
evan is energetic and enthusiastic, passionate about every single thing he says and does. he's reckless and loud and everything's tommy has soent a lifetime running away from.
when buck touches him for the first time, it sends electricity to every one of his nerves. it's intoxicating and amazing and warm, and tommy never wants it to end.
then, the curse kicks in. a little later than usual— as if mocking tommy, almost. teasing him with a tiny taste of what normal looks like and then reminding him he can never have it, not for real.
the first time buck touches him, it's at chimney's wedding— he's drunk and sweaty, cheeks pink and flushed and a boyish smile plastered on his face. he practically draps himself next to tommy's side, leans all his weight against him as he hums the lyrics of the song plahing in the background out of tune.
it's fun and heavenly for a couple of seconds, until tommy gets the vision.
buck in a month, maybe a month and a half. hanging from the firetruck ladder as the sky falls around him, lightning striking him right in the chest and making his heart stop.
#idk what this is tbh#im probably gonna keep writing it tho#maybe(????#evan buckley#tommy kinard#buck x tommy#bucktommy#kinkley#bucktommy fic#bucktommy wip#911 fic#911fic#911 wip#911 abc#911 on abc#april rambles#my writing#april writes
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me instead - rafe x topper'sgf!reader
m'backkkk!!! lmk if you liked this <3
when topper thorton approached you at the country club and asked you out, you though nothing of it.
a couple of random kooks always came up to you, wanting to buy you a drink or take you out on a date, so you were used to it.
but after the dinner went well, you started thinking that maybe it was time to leave behind your current dating habits - which consisted mainly in pogues with a bad boy complex - and settle down with a nice kook boy. at least for a little while.
as soon as you two made your first public appearance the news spread around the island quickly.
obviously, you were one of the hottest girls on the obx and everyone felt the need to be updated on your dating life.
top's friends heard and the teasing started short after.
but he couldn't help to get a little worried about rafe's reaction. he remembered the episode that happened a couple months ago
you were laying on the lounge chair, the sun reflecting on the pool and showering your body in golden light.
the three boys were standing besides the bar at the country club, getting a clear view of your barely clothed body, their minds filled with obscene thoughts at the sight of you.
"bro i think you're drooling a bit" kelce teased and then laughed at rafe, who had been staring at you intensely and not making any effort at hiding it.
"she's really fucking hot, huh?" topper added as he scaned your figure with his eyes, your attention focused on your book, not realizing the intrusive eyes that were laid on you.
"she's mine." rafe said nonchalantly as he took another sip of his beer.
his friends rolled their eyes and laughed at the comment, they were used to rafe trying to call dibs on everything. little did they know he was serious this time.
but you were simply too gorgeous for topper to care about that.
he didn't expect that you would agree so easily when he first asked you out, and ever since then he wouldn't miss a chance to show you off, even if you hadn't been on that many dates, he invited you everywhere and introduced you to everyone, except rafe, of course.
but he couldn't avoid him forever.
a big kook party was happening tonight, and you asked top to go with you, after all of your girlfriends cancelled and you didn't feel like having another night in.
and he couldn't ever say no to you, so there he was picking you up short after, driving you both to the huge house filled with the same old kooks, some random tourists and a couple lost pogues.
as soon as you walked in all eyes landed on you, and the tiny white dress you were wearing, but you were always too oblivious and in your own little bubble to even notice the lingering looks that every guy there gave you as you walked past them, and the irritated ones that came from the girls.
top guided you to the back, where his friends stood, occupied by their drinks and other substances so they took a little while to notice your arrival.
you said hi to a couple boys topper had previously introduced you to, but then you saw one you didn't recognize.
he was wearing a white shirt that was a little tight around his big arms, and some kooky ass beige shorts.
top couldn't hide his nervous expression as he tapped rafe on his shoulder "come say hi to my girl, bro"
rafe turned around and his eyes landed automatically on you, scanning your whole body shamelessly before stopping on your face
"your girl, huh?" he cuestioned as he took a sip of his drink, giving top a look your couldn't quite figure out
topper had already moved on to greet the next person so you introduced yourself
"yes hi, I'm y/n, top's girlfriend" you said flashing a perfect smile at him, trying to ignore his intense stare
he checked to see if topper wasn't looking, and then lowered his lips to your ear, sending a goosebump down your spine as he whispered
"nah, your pretty little head must have gotten it wrong" you swallowed the bump on your throat "you're supposed to be here with me"
he quickly stood straight again, as topper came back and placed a kiss on your -now flushed- cheek.
#rafe#rafe cameron#mine#obx#rafe cameron imagine#rafe cameron x reader#rafe x reader#rafe cameron blurb#rafe cameron edit#rafe imagine#rafe blurb#rafe obx#drew starkey#topper thornton#topper obx#rafe cameron jealous#outerbanks rafe#outer banks au#outer banks#outer banks imagine
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can you write blaise zabini with "i can see you"?? where him and reader only ever talk during social events outside of hogwarts (blaise's mom's multiple weddings, pureblood balls, formal parties and stuff) so during school year they basically ignore each other's existence and reader is sick of it. like, they're def not in a relationship or anything (yet) but blaise follows reader with his eyes all the time and everyone of his friends has noticed even tho he doesnt have the balls to admit to himself yet
(bonus if reader isnt exactly close to the slytherin gang but has casual conversations with each of them except for him)
i can see you // blaise zabini x fem slytherin reader
playlist: i can see you - taylor swift
summary: youve always been acquaintances with blaise zabini , just completely casual. so why does he always stare at you yet avoid speaking? you dont know why - and that frustrates you so much.
y/n used , fluff
tysm for this request its so good!! i hope you like it i tried my best <3
masterlist
"youre staring again." theodore stated simply , snapping blaise zabini besides him out of some sort of trance.
"what? staring at what?-" blaise stuttered.
"y/n of course , dont even bother denying it mate everyone with eyes can see you- even pansy and her eyesight is shit." theodore laughed as pansy smacked his arm and mumbled an argument.
blaise ignored the two and searched his whole brain for a way to deny and defend himself against the boys claims , he wasnt staring?! of course he wasnt why would he!
"and again , you just cant help yourself can you?" theodore chuckled as blaise was snapped out of another daydream. he hadnt even realised that his eyes had once again magnetised to you - at this point he did it so subconsciously even he didnt notice.
"why would i stare at-"
"y/n!" pansy said excitedly as you walked dangerously close past the group , pansys interruption having saved a flustered blaise the embarrassment of you hearing him.
"oh hi pansy!" you said with a small smile ,"what are you up to?"
blaises eyes darted everywhere but on you as you now stood infront of the group , he seemed to have a newly found interest in the floor.
well , of course blaise has talked to you before! youve talked at parties and gatherings outside of school but...in school blaise seemed to avoid you like the plague. and of course he hadnt noticed the amount of times you went to engage in conversation before he would run away.
"nothing much, lifes pretty boring when quidditch isnt on!" pansy said as you nodded in agreement , "but ill see you in herbology right- can you help me on my assignment?"
you nodded your head with a smile , "sure! i need to finish mine too."
"great , see you tomorrow then , bye y/n!" pansy smiled and waved and you began to walk away.
"bye panse! oh and bye theo , blaise!" you smiled and waved before blending in with the corridor crowd and you friend group.
blaise simply watched as you figure disappeared into the crowd , the only trace of your past presence being the blush that lit up his cheeks.
"see, simple as that. shes no saint blaise , you can communicate with the girl." pansy teased as blaise threw her a look.
"i do talk to her!"
"just not in school." theo added with a laugh.
"well-" blaises attempt to defend himself was cut short by his name being shouted down the corridor and the sound of pattering feet getting closer.
"blaise!" your voice called out , reappearing from the crowd.
the whole friend group gaped at you in surprise , coming up with no valid reason for you to be shouting the boys name and running over with such urgency.
"y-yeah?" blaise muttered once you were stood directly infront of him, breathing slightly heavily.
"i need to talk to you." you stated before grabbing his wrist and dragging him to the refuge of the nearest empty corridor.
whilst you pulled him the tall boy couldnt help his vulnerability and shyness , it always came naturally when he found himself around you in school. he didnt know why of course.
"blaise im just wondering if i did something?!" you let your words out like a long kept secret as you both stood in the silence of the hall , "i mean we talk at events and parties but you dont talk to me in school - you stare and then you stay silent! did i do something wrong because-?"
"no! no , merlin you never did a thing i just- i dont know i get....quiet." he muttered.
"quiet? blaise zabini you are far from a quiet person , i dont think there is a single moment in charms where you dont talk! its just-..its frustrating because i really like you!" your confession spilled out so quickly you caught yourself off guard, covering your mouth quickly.
blaise stared back in shock , studying your face for any hint of perjury in your words.
"im- im sorry...i dont do it intentionally! i think....that i like you too" he stuttered as you both blushed.
"well thank merlin for that because if you didnt id simply have to move schools." you laughed lightly as blaise smiled at you.
after a few moments of silence you tip toed up and kissed his cheek softly , making him smile.
"promise to talk more? maybe even go on a date?.." you asked hopefully.
"i think id have to be mad to remain mute when someone as perfect as you asked me not to." he smirked as you laughed , "a date sounds good - i promise to talk , but i cant promise not to stare, beautiful."
"wow a turn of events! i never thought my silent admirer could flirt so boldly!" you teased as his arms rested around your waist , pulling you closer.
"i can do more than flirt." he winked as you smacked his arm lightly , with a surprised giggle.
"sit with me at lunch?" you asked hopefully.
"sure , away from both our friends though." blaise added in annoyance making you laugh.
"oh 1000% the teasing would be relentless!" you added as blaise looked at you with slight shock.
"your friends tease you about me?!" he asked , you nod back.
"oh yeah , i think everyone saw you stare zabini, even me. i can see you yknow" you mocked , hinting to how you were all well aware of his constant fixation on you, blaise himself being the only person oblivious.
"shush." he said softly as you both laughed , his hand intertwining with yours before pulling you down the corridor and towards the great hall.
#blaise zabini x reader#blaise zabini#blaise#zabini#blaise zabini imagine#i can see you#taylor swift#harry potter#harry potter x reader#hp fanfic#x reader#hp#hp fandom#slytherin#theodore nott#draco malfoy#harry potter imagine#pansy parkinson#mattheo riddle#slytherin boys x reader#slytherin boys#request#the stars are brighter tonight masterlist
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Would love a rough quickie with them in this outfit 🫠🫠🫠
https://x.com/anyujinsss/status/1763430900111757617?s=46&t=sv54D2RJCM5ahfRVnc7Bjw
-🥵
no bcs i’m gonna need ya’ll to indulge me a bit here BECAUSEEE 😵💫😵💫😵💫😵💫 honestly thought i could do so much more w this idea but i hit a wall 😭 HOPEFULLY YOU GUYS STILL LIKE IT THO ❤️🔥❤️🔥
so let's say... bodyguard au right? (check out my bff @bitchiswild's yuj bodyguard au btw it's great heheheh) except that yujin doesn't know what the fuck she's doing bcs she's a professional hitwoman not a fucking bodyguard! and to be tasked to go to such lengths to keep a spoiled rich girl like you safe was asking too much! but she does it anyway (she does anything for money) and not only does she actually end up taking her supposed job seriously, she also... well, starts to feel some sort of affection towards you! <33
no it's not what you're thinking—ahn yujin, your beloved stupid bodyguard is obsessed with you 😳😳 see, you aren't actually as bad as yujin initially made you out to be! you were so kind it was sickening, the brightness of your smile managed to rival yujin's own genuine ones, and you were almost like... a real-life disney princess?? at first yujin assumed you were just being pretentious, being a two-faced snake.. but no, it turns out you fr had a heart of gold and that was when yujin started being softer with you... and softer until her affection turned into obsession and ofc she starts looking at you wayyy too differently 🤭
what a fucking pervert she is, honestly! always insists on walking behind you instead of beside you not bcs she's looking out for you but bcs she's checking your ass out.. and she especially loves it when you're wearing short skirts! fantasizes a lot whenever you're out together, mostly when you drag her to an outlet mall and just start shopping to your heart's content! gives yujinnie an excuse to picture you wearing all those pretty lingerie that you buy in her head.. and she's never been more thankful for her job bcs you'd bring her inside a changing room with you and ask for her opinion and... yeah, yujin very much enjoys the show 😚
nothing happens between the two of you until some fancy event however 🤭 yujin was lingering around watching you as usual until you sneak out of a crowd, walking off to a secluded room all frustrated... ofc yujin follows you bcs hello, that's her job and she wanted to berate you for going somewhere without telling her first!! but then it turns out that you were in the worst mood ever so you were just glaring at yujin the entire time she was scolding you.. and then you started whining about her always treating you like a toddler and never letting you do anything on your own and yeah it was a whole fight! things get heated, some hurtful words were thrown around, and you expected yourself to push yujin away and storm off but nooo you just had to grab her by the collar of her shirt with both hands and kiss her 😳 "i... dad needs me f-for a stupid—ah!—speech in a bit..." struggling to speak bcs yujin was touching you everywhere and it felt so good :((
"guess we should hurry then, huh?" so she says but she does everything but hurry! yujin takes her precious time exploring your body,, skilled, calloused hands massaging your thighs, ass, and breasts as her tongue explored your mouth… how she wished she could rip your pretty clothes off and ruin you but :(( she didn’t want you to get into too much trouble! being so annoyed of her teasing that you had to trap her hand in between your legs, pleading her to just fuck you before you were called onto the stage out side 😣 she ignores your first pleas though,, finding it so entertaining that she’s got you wrapped around her finger this time…
“hm.. fuck… do you know how long i’ve been wanting to touch you like this?” she asks while pulling your panties down so slowly ☹️ stares at your wet cunt like it’s her last meal.. even going as far as to lick her lips but she didn’t want to make a mess of her face so she was going to save that for a whole ‘nother day 🥰🥰 ah, and as much as she would love to see the kind of expression you make while she fucks you… she had to see how good you looked being fucked from behind first! 😋 her instructing you to bend over the couch in the room.. one hand gripping your ass and the other—two fingers knuckle-deep inside you :(( and good god was she good!
“d’you wanna be loud, princess? one of your father’s associates seemed very keen on taking you home… want to let him know the only person you’ll allow to touch you like this..?” yujinnie taunts while you’re a moaning mess underneath her.. your nails holding the leather couch in a tigh grip as yujin hits all of your weak spots… “scream my name, whore.” her insults, along with how she slaps your ass and abuses your cunt.. well, nobody could blame you for cumming a bit too quickly than what yujin liked!! but that was okay! really 🤭 she’ll have all the time in the world later when the event was over and you hurry on over to your home, bringing yujin all the way to your bed and letting her do everything she has been wanting to do to you until the sun rises 🫣🫣
#🥵 anon#ive smut#ive x reader#ive x fem reader#ive scenarios#ive imagines#ahn yujin smut#ahn yujin x fem reader#ahn yujin x reader#ahn yujin scenarios#ahn yujin imagines#yujin smut#yujin x reader#yujin x fem reader#yujin scenarios#yujin imagines#girl group smut#girl group x reader#girl group imagines#girl group x fem reader#girl group scenarios
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A little post about our beloved QSMP eggs and what they taught me.
Starting off with Chayanne, our little warrior. Your strength through agony was always something to be admired, your dedication to providing to your family through delicious food is something I will always remember. You fought so hard, little leader, I'll miss you always.
Lullah, lovely musician and stealer of hearts Lullah. You are such a bright star, you formed bonds of love and won over the harshest souls instantly. You taught love for both yourself and others, you gave us a deep and intriciate character we will always think of fondly.
Everyone who has followed me for a while knows the Death Family was probably the one I spoke about the most (besides Hideduo). They were always near each other which is something I will remember fondly. They had their troubles but they always talked them out. I'll miss you most.
Ramon, oh my sweet Ramon. You were a late addition to my attention, but I'm so glad I found you, even for the short time I did. Your dedication in protecting your siblings spoke beyond what words can say about your character. I will always remember your excitement and curiosity.
Richas; chaotic, excitable, hyper, and a dear wild child. You made everyone laugh with your antics, it was never a boring time from the moment we saw your cow head to the moment you sped off. You captured so much life and projected it to those you cared about, one of us forever.
Leo <3 My darling, my dear, I never spoke about you much but I love each and every time you came on screen. Your bright and loud personality is a delight, teaching many how wonderful it is to be exactly you. I've heard her admin is a streamer, you should go follow!
Sunny, oh my goodness Sunny. Another huge persona who taught me so much about loving myself and presenting exactly as me. I hope you know how many people you have touched by being you so perfectly. I can not picture any other parent than Tubbo for you, you are adorable together.
Empanada, our time together was too short, but I will forever treasure it. You played such a clever and observant character, very intune with others emotions and able to comfort anyone in their times of trouble. You made people think and learn, an incredible gift to everyone.
Pepito, oh my goodness with you, I think Richas met their rival with sheer energy and excitement.
My little BOLAS eggo, you swept in and easily made everyone want to protect you.
You teach many whimsy, kindness, and stepping out of your comfort zone. You make so many smile 😃
Dapper and Pomme...I can not even separate you in this post. I wasn't able to catch much content surrounding you but I always appreciated how much I saw both your influence in your siblings. Dapper, you always kept your dad on his toes. Pomme, I adore your capacity to love all.
Trump, Tilin, Juana, Bobby.
Time was tragically short together, barely a breath on the long cycle of emotions this story drove us through.
I can say with certainty you will never be forgotten, your influence touched many even if you were only with us for a matter of days. 💕
I unfortunately do not have any screenshots of Chunsik, a similar sentiment to the Egg Island three, as I don't feel we have enough time together, but I'll think of you fondly. I wish you had more time to wow us, I'm not even sure if we will see you again but I wish you the best.
I am a changed person after becoming interested in this content and this server, and that's a positive thing. I only feel sorrow because I love it so deeply. You inspired me to keep creating and connecting with new people. I'll miss what we had forever, thank you for everything.
#wrenrambles#qsmp#qsmp eggs#qsmp chayanne#qsmp tallulah#qsmp death family#qsmp Ramon#qsmp richas#qsmp leonarda#qsmp sunnysideup#qsmp empanada#qsmp pepito#qsmp dapper#qsmp pomme#qsmp trumpet#qsmp tilin#qsmp juanaflippa#qsmp bobby#thank you qsmp admins
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painfully needy Rolan going into rut
Had this on the brain lately. I don't think it would take much to make Rolan an absolute mess but imagine how worse it would be when he's going into rut. Boy would snap so fast
Rolan x afab non-tiefling reader
Have some 🔥spicy🔥 musings
*this went longer than I wanted lol. But if you like it tell me if you want more 🧡
● Rolan had been doing this dance with you for months now. Both working at Sorcerous Sundries you saw each other regularly, even tried to work together as much as possible (not that he'd ever admit that). The banter, the playful mockery leading to not so subtle flirtation was easy until now.
● The conversations didn't flow like before. A joke about becoming a doe eyed scarcely dressed maiden -like the ones on the covers of those novels you so enjoy- suddenly lead his mind to wander. Any wisecrack replaced with the image of you gazing at him so lustfully. An image that stays with him for the rest of the day (and night).
● Lia and Cal are very vocal about his uptick in irritability. He tries to ignore them but they're not wrong. Ever little thing sets him off. He's frustrated at himself. For letting the feelings get so far without truely noticing. For being too proud or too embarrassed to act on them.
●He often forgets his words as his eyes lingered on your lips, your neck, your figure. More than once you caught him staring and to his surprise no offense was taken. Just a quizzical look, perhaps a soft smile that flooded his face with warmth.
●Rolan would have almost preferred you'd have met him with anger. Now the hope of you ran rampant through him. That if he was ever to give in he may be met with the embrace he so longed for. The need for you was growing by the day. He even took care to not stand to closely to you now. He coursed himself for it. How had he become so starved for affection that even the scent of you sprung his body to life.
●The wizard had spent many nights forced to take action if he was to ever find sleep. He'd be tangled in his sheets, hair wild, trusting violently into his own fist. He tries to keep his fantasies to more abstract forms of pleasure but as hard as he tries the vague shapes melt into crystal clear images of you. It would always be you around him like a vice that would push him over the edge.
● There were times he'd lose himself so throughly he'd cry out your name as he came. Embarrassed by this lack of control, Rolan told himself it was better to happen here than in front of you.
● Going into work that morning something felt off. Rolan's whole body felt extra sensitive, aching. The horrible thought finally struck him at midday. Was he going into rut? Now!? With such little warning? He calms himself. He's not certain after all.
● Until he's been paired with you to clean out and old study turned storage room. He's hyper aware of your scent. Its filling his lungs,making his knees weak. The room isn't exactly small but it's stuffed with stacks of books making moving around a problem. You're constantly having to squeeze (delightfully, terrifyingly) close to each other.
● Luckily you're busying yourself with the task at hand. Rolan prays you won't notice how red (red-er) his face is or the sizable bulge he's currently cloaking with a stack of books. The straining against his pants is almost painful. He's eyeing the door, anything to escape the heat building in his blood.
●His eyes fall back to you and all notions of making a run for it leave his mind. Along with everything else that isn't right in front of him. You looked a vision, standing on and old box body spread across the book self as you attempt to reach something on the top shelf. Not only was it a perfect view of your form, it reminded him of a pose one might see in an old painting.
●Suddenly the box wobbled threatening to send you falling backwards. Your scream was cut short as you felt Rolan catch you, arms wrap around your middle tightly pressing you to him. His face buried in your hair he couldn't help utter a deep groan. The wave of intoxicating aroma washing away his last bit of restraint.
●With ease he flips you around, pressing you into the shelf, a maon escaping your lips. Your hands came to his chest not to push him away but in a gentle caress.
●'Rolan? Please,' was hardly out on your mouth when they were swallowed by his lips. He kisses you like a drowning man breaking the water's surface. Madly, desperately as if any second you may be taken away for him. Hungrily he deepens the kiss and your lips part for him with ease, both of you relishing in the taste.
●It's only when you part for air he realizes he's been rocking his hips into you. An apology catches in his throat as you grind back against him. He's dizzy with lust, his own heartbeat pounding in his ears.
●His lips find your neck, kissing, sucking and biting. Trying his best not to break the skin. Your moans drive him on. His hands are frantic running all over you. Soon your hands lead his to the laces on your dress. He makes quick work of it.
●Rolan takes you in his arms again and lays you down on a near by table. A little too eager he tears your under things away completely. But to his awe you only laugh and spread yourself out for him to drink you in fully. You're a goddess in his eye and he intends to worship.
●Words spill senselessly from him as he lavishes you with his mouth. 'Fuck, Fuck! You're beautiful you're perfect. I need- God's, l need you I need you.' He hasn't the brain for elegance now. He's kissing you everywhere maoning words of love into your skin.
● As he makes it to your thighs he cannot help but bury is face between them. The sweet taste of your sex has him throbbing with out so much as a touch. He wants to make sure you're nice and ready for him. You're not a tiefling after all and he couldn't bare the thought of hurting you. It doesn't take long before you're dripping wet against his tongue as he slides wildly between attacking your entrance and your clit.
●You stifle a scream as an orgasm suddenly rips through you, your thighs shaking in his grasp. Youre still panting but you pull him away, drawing him closer to you. As you pull him into a soft kiss your hands unlace his pants (finally) freeing his erection. Though to hold him lightly his gasp is sharp. He's painfully hard; his head already glistening with precum.
●As he runs he length against your folds he tries to center himself. He doesn't want to be too rough or finish terribly fast. He wants to go slow but when he catches on your entrance he can't help but thrust into you, the relief of his agony so close. You tremble but encourage him on. His name quickly becoming a soft prayer on your lips.
●He's wrapped inside you now, almost all the way. The pleasure overwhelming him he opts for quicker shallow thrusts. He's taken aback by how vocal he is as more sweet lustful nothings spill from him. Rolan's control is fading fast. He's practically shaking, slamming himself into you losing whatever rhythm he had. The sight of your face contorting with pleasure is pushing him to his end. He can feel the hot pull in his gut. And suddenly something else as.
●A chill runs over him as he feels the swelling at the base of his cock. He grasps it and pulls out not wanting to subject you to something he didn't even take the time to explain. In part he's too late. He didn't fully knot but he still comes hard, spilling thick ropes all over your stomach and thighs. Fuck, you're beautiful like this.
● He blushes deeply and panics, apologizing over and over. He didn't want it to be like this. You run your fingers through his hair and kiss him gently. You don't know that much about teifling biology but Gods you wanted to learn. Rolan tries to believe you, that this wouldn't scare you off.
● He adjusted his pants, somehow still as uncomfortable as before. Perhaps it was the sight of you dressing. How you made no move to do away with his mess before you did. He could take you again easily. But not here.
● You convince him to claim illness and leave work early. To take time to rest. He agrees wanting to lock himself away from the world. And yet he also agrees to meet you that night. Then he'd have a more level head. A chance to explain himself and perhaps to hold you in his arms for longer.
Xoxo thanks for reading friends ❤️
#Boy got me feeling it#He's so stress#Rolan#baldur's gate 3#rolan x tav#Rolan x reader#afab reader#I'm so sorry im like this#teifling#Headcanons#Is this a fic now#Should I write more#bg3
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have you been doomscrolling? feeling awful about it? do you feel out of control? does it seem your autonomy has been swallowed by the ever present beast that is the internet?
we live in the most overwhelmingly stimulating age of humanity ever seen, and it's only getting worse. our brains are sponges, soaking up whatever we smear them across, and it seems more and more difficult to find a clean surface to rest on. i'm no expert or professional, but ive been born and raised into the internet, and i'd like to hand out some wisdom regarding this.
the main issue: brain poison
since the brain absorbs whatever it's exposed to, media consumption is unsurprisingly going to effect it. the type of media, the amount of media, and the frequency of the media all play a factor.
it's not the internet itself that's bad here. it's the media on the internet, and the platforms designed to suck in our attention and keep it there until we're rotting inside our skulls.
we're never going to escape the internet. it's just a fact of life now, and a tool that can be used for wonderful things. so how do we learn to live with the internet and take advantage of its potential?
treat it like a dietary balance
staying aware of what goes in your brain is just as important as being aware of what you're eating. if you eat carelessly, don't listen to how your body feels after you eat certain things, and ignore any sickness that might result from rotten food, you're going to have a bad time and wreck your guts. the same goes for the brain.
you want to have a good mix of various types of media in the right amounts, or approximately so. if things are feeling bland, maybe diversify. if things are feeling stupid, try something more intellectual. if it's feeling too much, cut back on all of it
the following are three things you can do to maintain a sense of control and awareness over your media diet. this isnt a step by step and is in no particular order, theyre just ideas to carry forward in general any time it could be helpful.
1. digest
this is the process of thinking about and remembering what youve done throughout your time on the internet. it could apply to any period of time. so you might think, 'man, i've done nothing but watch tiktok all day.' or 'i've been scrolling twitter a lot more this past week.'
i feel like most people already do this to some extent, but it manifests as a fleeting sense of anxiety or shame that doesn't lead anywhere. analyze that feeling, and ask if it's really true or helpful.
ask if your media consumption is making you feel less focused, distracted, putting you into a brain fog, making you fall asleep when you don't want to, making you irritable and angry, drawing you into arguments, keeping you awake at night, or upsetting/disrupting you in any way.
digestion also means appreciating the good stuff and recognizing the good feelings you get too. so also ask if it's enriching you, helping you learn something new, giving you a new perspective, exposing you to something beautiful, passing the time, relaxing you, honing your focus, or generally lifting your mood.
2. cut
cut certain types of content from your life once you've decided they're not good for your media diet. block people. move on. tell youtube to stop reccomending that channel. block them. unfollow people. unfollow tags. block the tags. blacklist things. do it. forget the awful things that make your brain hurty. click the block button. uninstall the app. you know you want to
consider removing yourself entirely from websites that are designed to be attention predators. if you consistently feel like youre 'stuck' on a site and cant leave, it's probably best to just delete your account and get out of there. tiktok is NOTORIOUS for this.
i also tend to keep my following or subscribed count low. keeping the stream of content short forces me to find other things to do with my time. this goes hand in hand with things like turning off infinite scroll. it provides an 'end point' where the repetitive action of scrolling down stops bearing fruit, breaking the doomscrolling cycle. the internet is almost an infinite place, and its up to you to build walls around yourself so you arent lost in it forever.
its also important to get off the internet in general sometimes. i know this is obvious, but literally touch grass on occasion. doing anything with your physical body away from the screen will be more enriching than sitting there scrolling for hours. whether it's just a 5 minute walk around your house to stretch your legs or a 6 hour hike every weekend, part of cutting media will mean replacing it with real life. looking at some plants, doing a pushup, or working on a knitting project can be like rinsing your brain sponge under some cold, clean water.
3. curate
the flip side of cutting is curating. you'll want to be looking for media that makes you happy and feels productive or meaningful in some way. anything that not only doesnt make you feel like you wasted your time, but specifically makes you feel like you spent your time well, is a green flag.
keep in mind entertainment just for entertainment's sake is good for you too. you don't have to be watching university lectures and tutorials and stuff all day. finding high quality entertainment, such as personalities you enjoy, good production values, and inventive ideas can be really difficult. find the people who dont make you feel like a cocomelon baby and stick with them. from there you should be able to find similar content.
what's good for your soul is going to depend very much on you as an individual. this is also going to be an ongoing process as not only you but the internet both change and evolve. the important thing about this step is that you Make Decisions about what to consume. even bad decisions! it's all part of the process, and it's all about reclaiming your autonomy.
4. eat your junk food
this isn't a military drill or an exact science. i'm just a guy on tumblr with an intimate connection to his own brain and a LOT of time on the internet. that's my only credential. sometimes i want to turn that brain off and just mindlessly consume without putting any thought into what dirty dishwater is soaking into my sponge. sometimes adhd brain wants me to watch a shitty B movie in recap form so i dont have to commit to a full movie. sometimes i get stuck in the youtube shorts for like 3 hours.
that's fine. the most important part of any kind of self care is that a little bit is better than nothing. even just being aware that youre consuming something bad for you and knowing you arent ready to stop just yet is better than nothing.
thats it!!
now you should be prepared to take back some control over your media consumption. be gentle with yourself and take your time. eventually this stuff will become second nature, and you'll be effortlessly digesting, curating, and cutting media like it's just part of your personality. remember YOU have control over what the internet thinks you want to see. dont let it force feed you nasty slop anymore. let it be a reflection of your mind, not the other way around.
and good luck!
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first anniversary | dieter x poppy
A Sweet Creature
Ava Greene sits down with actor and friend, Dieter Bravo. Hollywood’s new leading man gets candid about life in front of and behind the camera. He talks about his latest movie, his commitment to his sobriety and his newest role— husband?!
Ava Greene: You're approaching three years sober now, how are you feeling?
Dieter Bravo: Probably the best I’ve felt in a long time. Sobriety is a day to day progression that I take very seriously, and I try to not lose sight of that even when I’m having bad days. Though, I’m grateful bad days have been few and far between at this point in my sobriety. I can attribute that to the support system I have built for myself through friends, family, my sponsor that I still work with and most importantly my wife who keeps me grounded daily. They all continue to keep me in check and remind me how awesome my life is, especially right now. Staying clean is a full time commitment, and it’s really a beautiful thing.
AG: You followed in your famous parents footsteps by going into acting and your career and struggles with sobriety have been well documented but your parents have rarely commented publicly, are they supportive of your work and your journey?
DB: For me, I don’t need them to make a show of it by commenting or sharing their thoughts publicly to know they support me. There was a point in time where they did all they could do for me, but ultimately it had to be my choice to make the decision to get clean. Thankfully, we’ve been rebuilding our relationship over the last few years. And being in the public eye for most of our lives, the last thing we want is for outsiders thinking they have a say in our lives. In short, yes I have very supportive parents in all aspects of my life and I’m so happy for that.
AG: This is your second project since rehab, are you viewing this as a comeback or a fresh start?
DB: Comeback? I didn’t know I left… Kidding! Sure, some might say it’s a comeback. A fresh start. Whatever analogy best fits the narrative is fine by me— and I don’t mean that negatively in any sense. I mean, you’ve known me long enough to know I just try not to focus on any of that stuff, messes with my fucking brain waves. I just see it as me doing what I love with a new perspective and a different approach to choosing what projects I’m going to give my time to than I have in the past.
AG: What can you tell us about this project and the character you're playing?
DB: I had the best f*ckin’ time while shooting this film— sorry, but the emphasis was needed. I was really drawn to the vibrancy that this script evoked, even with the serious nature of the storyline and characters. I couldn’t stop thinking or talking about for weeks afterwards. I’d sit with my wife at breakfast and we’d discuss the script and my character for what felt like hours. I knew after I heard her feedback that I needed to be apart of this film— she might have said I’d be stupid to say no to it, in her own loving way.
The film is really about the process of rediscovering yourself. Navigating the challenges that come along with being at your lowest point and leaning on the ones who have been there for you. It’s about finding love in its purest form when you never thought you were deserving of it.
I found bits of myself in this character as we were filming, it was very much a cathartic experience for me. I guess you could say it was art imitating life in a weird way.
AG: There's already been some buzz about this year's award season, do you think this is finally your year?
DB: Ooooh! Is it too presumptuous for me to say yes?! I’ve started dusting the spot where I plan for it to go. I sound like some sort of pompous idiot! Now no one is going to go see it!*
I take it back!
In all seriousness, ‘cause I’m sure Poppy and my agent will be rolling their eyes when they read this. If all I get is a couple nominations, that alone feels like winning. A shiny statue would be nice though— just saying.
AG: You've talked often about your love of art and you recently purchased a gallery. Are you planning to publicly pursue other creative endeavors?
DB: I won’t be joining American Idol anytime soon if that’s what you’re asking. Oh, you weren’t referring to my ability to hold a note during our many karaoke nights— noted!
How did you put it? Other creative endeavors? I’ve got a few art pieces in the works right now that I’m itching to dive back into when I get home. I’ve got a major gallery in LA lined up later in the year for an artist spotlight exhibit, they’ll be housing some of my work through the next year. Shoutout to my wife for getting that all lined up while I was away shooting this film.
AG: What's next for Dieter Bravo? Any other projects lined up you can tell us about?
DB: I’m looking forward to some downtime I have coming up. Poppy has the summer off, so we’ll get to finally live that newlywed life. Settle into the role of doting husband while she does her thing at the gallery.
AG: Off the record, if you got married and didn't tell anyone I will kick yours and Poppy’s ass!
DB: We’re celebrating our one year this month actually. We eloped quietly last year right after we got engaged— wanted to keep it to ourselves for a little while. Which reminds me, you and Bryony should hop on a call with Poppy after this. Seeing as I let the cat out of the bag and this is our announcement— surprise!
Huge shoutout out to @gnpwdrnwhiskey for allowing me to borrow her Ava from Conversations with a Movie Star for this. Ava was so gracious and even wrote the questions herself. I’m so grateful for Lellen and all her support and advice she had given me throughout the writing process of Sweet Creature!
Sweet Creature Celebration
#dieter bravo#dieter x poppy#sweet creature series#sweet creature celebration#dieter bravo x reader#dieter bravo x you#pedro pascal
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