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arminsumi · 5 months

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★ Satoru's undercut

★ Synopsis : He fears the hairdresser like it's the dentist. One day, he accidentally gets an undercut style. He would have thrown a tantrum if it weren't for your positive response — because all he really cares about is that you enjoy his haircut.

★ Content : soft fluff, romantic tension, some mutual pining??

★ Library ★ reblog for a cake slice! 🍰

"This will ruin my life..."

"It will not ruin your life."

"I'm gonna die!"

"You're not gonna die."

"Yes, I'm gonna die! They're gonna cut my head off."

"They're not gonna cut your head off."

Satoru had a haircut appointment which you were accompanying him to as per his desperate demand request. Suguru was there also, helping Shoko with something technical on her phone. He laughed when Satoru was whining to you.

The four of you were on the train; Suguru and Shoko stood tightly packed with their backs facing other people as if they were the group shield. And Satoru sat next to you, clinging to your arm as if he were a kid on his way to the dentist.

"Don't laugh. You know I feel the same about hairdressers as people feel about dentists!" he pouted.

"Satoru, you're so weird." you said.

“I'm not!”

You shook your head at him. Satoru grumbled.

"No one understands me!" he said dramatically.

Suguru commented, "I do understand why you dislike hairdressers, Satoru; most of them don't cut your hair how you want."

Shoko nodded and chimed in, "— yup, and you usually leave with a fake smile and say "oh wowww... I love it!" but you actually hate it." then she went back to frowning at her phone with Suguru.

“My hair is important, I can't afford to have a bad haircut." Satoru said.

"Haha, you make it sound like if you have a bad haircut it could cost you millions." you laughed.

Satoru sat up straighter and spoke seriously, "It may as well cost me millions!"

You didn't understand why Satoru was being so dramatic.

****

The hairdresser looked at you, Shoko and Suguru and then wondered why so many people were accompanying this grown man to his haircut, as if he were about to get a root canal for the first time.

Suguru whispered into her ear, and she blushed at his alluring charm like anyone would.

"He's scared of bad haircuts... so please do your best, he has a girl to impress. See that one sitting there?” Suguru pointed to you, “Yeah, that's the one."

He accidentally flustered her, and he smirked about it when he returned to you and Shoko.

"Suguru, your head looks as big as a bubble about ready to pop." you joked, noticing his smug demeanor as he took a waiting seat with you.

"I think I just flustered the hairdresser on accident." he said.

Shoko chuckled, "Is it ever an accident? I think you do it on purpose — oh, Y/n, I think Satoru is trying to get your attention. Give him some comfort."

Satoru recoiled when the cold blade of the scissors touched his neck, and looked distressed when the hairdresser touched his hair.

You knew he was highly sensitive to touch, especially his hair — he hated people touching his hair (reason X for hating hairdressers). The only person who was allowed to touch his hair was you. Suguru and Shoko needed a "valid reason" for touching Satoru's hair.

But you could comb your fingers through his hair any time, any place for no reason and Satoru would go limp with a smile on his face, completely melting for the act of affection.

Sometimes when it was just you and him alone together in his apartment, especially during his sleepless nights, Satoru would lay his tired head on your lap and ask you to play with his hair. Each stroke of your hand mellowed him out. He especially loved the feeling of your fingers running through his hair when it was fluffy and long.

So really, he feared not the hairdresser or even the bad haircut, but the fact that it might be too short or not fluffy enough for you to enjoy. It had to be just right. He had to maintain his fluffy hair for you.

He wanted to make sure that when you saw him at every party and get-together, you'd think "Wow, Satoru's hair looks so good.". He wanted you to compliment his hair and make him feel good and blushy.

And most of all, he just wanted to please your eyes. He wanted you to be starstruck when you looked at him.

So, a good haircut was critical.

****

Satoru's panic calmed after you took the empty seat next to him. He watched in admiration as you struck up a friendly conversation with the hairdresser. She turned out to be kind. She was an apprentice (picture nervous Satoru stiffening his shoulders when he learned this) and her mother owned the establishment next door.

Satoru was mostly quiet and focused on his reflection in the mirror. He squinted in suspicion when the lady brought out a hair buzzer.

But then you distracted Satoru by asking about what the four of you were doing after this. He stuttered a bit, half-looking at the hair buzzer and jumping a little when it turned on.

You talked so much that Satoru was completely distracted, and the lady could work. Though, it was hard, because Satoru didn't really specify what he wanted... so she winged it.

She thought hey, this guy would look good with an undercut. So, she cut an undercut for Satoru, and looked at you and smirked. His girlfriend will appreciate it, she thought as she looked at you and Satoru talking with hearts in your eyes.

You weren't his girlfriend. But you may as well have been. The two of you were anyways soulmates since kindergarten. Sure, you went away for five years to work abroad, but the link between you and Satoru wasn't broken by the distance.

****

Satoru gasped and nearly fainted when he saw how short his hair had been buzzed at the bottom. His neck felt exposed and suddenly it felt more drafty.

"What the—"

"— oh, you look hot, Satoru." You said.

He immediately shut up and went red in the face.

"Thanks, yeah it looks... yeah." Satoru hesitantly complimented the hairdresser's work.

She beamed proudly and wrapped up the haircutting session. Satoru took off the black dressing gown and stood up and shimmied the white hair off his pants.

"The cat is shedding." you joked, making Satoru grin with sealed lips.

You picked a white strand of his hair off the back of his shirt when he stood in line to pay at the checkout. He didn't notice. Such a cute boy.

Satoru was just grumbling to himself about how he'd need a scarf or turtleneck to compensate for his "practically naked" hairstyle now.

You stared at his undercut and felt your heartbeat get a bit frantic.

Then you kept staring as you left the barber shop.

Satoru wrapped an arm around your shoulders out of habit, as if he were your boyfriend, so the hairdresser felt sure that you two were dating and said something as you two left that really made you and Satoru blush;

"Your girlfriend loves it." she winked.

"I'm not his—"

"She's not my—"

"She sure does! Thanks for everything, see ya." Shoko cut off you and Satoru from responding and shoved the two of you out the door.

****

That comment lingered in the back of yours and Satoru's minds for the rest of the day.

On the train home, you grazed your fingers over Satoru's undercut and it elicited the funniest reaction out of him; he shivered like a cat that had just been scratched in a sweet spot.

"Haha, does that feel good?" you asked.

"It does. But my neck feels naked." Satoru shrugged.

Oh my god, do that again, he thought. It felt so good.

"Aw, then Y/n should wrap her arms around your neck." Suguru said in a flirtatious murmur.

Shoko laughed and propped a cigarette between her lips.

The four of you got off the train, you parted ways. Suguru and Shoko lived in different places and had to wait for their respective trains to take them home. So, you said your goodbyes and went with Satoru.

When you and Satoru moved out of your university housing, you both decided to live on the same street. You can say it was for X reasons, like oh it's a good neighborhood or oh the prices are great or oh the apartment walls aren't thin... but let's be honest; you and Satoru just didn't want to live too far from each other. You were inseparable, even cry-babies whenever the two of you were separated.

Satoru was always clinging or touching you in some way – hanging off your shoulders, resting his chin on the top of your head, draping an arm around you, holding your hand, snuggling into your neck. The closeness brought him more comfort than his own bed. He even claimed once that he could fall asleep on you more readily than on his bed.

Sometimes he was just shy of kissing you when you two met up, or when he knocked on your apartment door some mornings. His lips would graze over yours by accident in some circumstances, and though the two of you would laugh it off, there was an unmistakable spark in the air between you and him.

****

“Do you like it?” Satoru asked.

“I love it. You look really good.” You replied.

Satoru smiled to himself, hiding his face in your lap.

The TV was playing the most recent episode of that trashy romance soap opera – the episode where the two love interests kissed in the rain. Satoru stared hard at their lips connecting, and thought of why he hasn’t attempted to kiss you again. He didn’t want to ruin anything, so he kept his confession to himself even if it was obvious that he liked you.

You noticed he went a bit silent as you ran your fingers through his hair. He made a soft, long groan when your fingertips tickled up the back of his neck and over his prickly undercut.

“You sound like a cat.” You laughed.

His eyes were closed, brows relaxed into a sleepy arch. Whenever he got drowsy in your lap, his lips would part and show his two front teeth.

****

After getting an undercut hairstyle, Satoru was living in heaven with how much attention you gave his hair. Every day you’d find an excuse to play with his hair.

It made his heart beat harder and his mind go blank whenever you touched his neck and hair. He’d get shivers and close his eyes each time you did it, and would even stop talking mid-sentence.

In time it grew out. He refused to go back to the hairdresser, and instead insisted that you cut his hair for him. At first, he attempted to do it himself, but then he wimped out as soon as he held the scissors to his hair.

So, after he practically begged you on his knees and voiced his fear for the hairdresser, you agreed.

Cutting Satoru’s hair was a whole event. You invited Suguru and Shoko over to your apartment, and the four of you were laughing in the cramped bathroom together.

You had no idea what you were doing, and the online tutorials didn’t help much.

Satoru was dramatic when he thought you were cutting it too short or jagged, and he was so very picky that it drove you nuts to the point of putting the scissors down and leaving. But then he hugged your legs and apologized cutely, so you came back. Suguru and Shoko had to get it on camera because it was pure comedy.

“Alright, fairy princess. How did I do?” you asked Satoru.

He checked himself out in the mirror. His jawline and shorter hair drove you a bit wild, it was hard to contain yourself.

“It’s okay.” He replied cheekily.

“Just “okay”?! I put my soul into this!”

He grinned. “I’m just teasing.” He said, “I like it. Now let’s test it out.”

You looked confused. “Test it out?”

“Play with my hair.” He explained, “And tell me you like how it feels or else I’ll cry.” He added dramatically.

I do not permit the copying/reposting/translation/plagiarism of my works. Do not steal what I've worked hard to create.

This is fictional work.

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psychoticallytrans · 10 months

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There's this idea, fairly common in society, that mental illness is for teens and up. Children are happy little creatures, generally, right? Sometimes they're abused and the trauma can make them mentally ill, but that's not common.

There are two fundamental problems with this attitude. One, it's incorrect to assume that trauma is the only reason a young kid can be mentally ill. Two, trauma is more common than people think. I'll be covering the first problem in this post through the lens of my particular experience.

Where I live, you can be diagnosed with bipolar disorder at 18 years old. You cannot be diagnosed with bipolar disorder as a minor. This poses a problem because my age of onset was in first grade, roughly six years old. Because of the fact that I was very young and new to the world, this was also the age of my first suicide attempt. Thinking I wouldn't be able to pass a spelling test genuinely felt like something worth trying to die over. So, I ate some hemlock, since I'd read about Socrates being killed with it. Luckily, I ate western hemlock, an unrelated species, and just felt kind of sick.

I'm not recounting that for fun or pity. I'm recounting it because children with mental illness are in genuine danger because they have little to no experience with managing their emotions, have little to no concept of the idea that their life can change and improve, and are dismissed by adults. I told a teacher that the test made me want to die, though not that I'd attempted to, and it was brushed off as little kid hyperbole. If I had used a method that was effective rather than one I thought would be, I would have been dead at six years old.

I would not receive medication that worked even a bit for another two years. I would not receive treatment for bipolar disorder specifically for ten years, and that required my PCP fudging the reason for the medication because she was afraid I would die if she didn't, and diagnosis was still two years off at minimum. I received a formal diagnosis at age 19, thirteen years after onset.

But surely that's uncommon, right? This story is a huge edge case, right? I actually have no idea, because age of onset and age of diagnosis are massively conflated for most disabilities. Policies like the one in my area that restricted bipolar diagnoses by age can artificially raise the age of "onset", in my case by thirteen years. The general idea that children are somehow immune to mental illness can also delay diagnosis by several years, perpetuating the idea that young children can't be mentally ill. The data on when people start experiencing mental illness is inherently skewed upwards, and I frankly don't have a good estimate on how bad that skew is. If anyone does have that data, please chime in.

Listen to children. If they're saying they're sad all the time, that they don't care about anything, that they don't see a future for themselves, those are signs of depressive symptoms. If they say that tests make them feel sick, that they can't do anything because they're scared, that they can't breathe and freeze up, those are signs of anxious symptoms. Many children talk about imaginary things, and that's just fine, but slip in a question or two about them to make sure that the kid is just playing, and not experiencing psychosis.

Children are new to the world and vulnerable, and they don't know what's normal and what isn't. They need people who are more experienced watching out for problems they might be having, and listening when they talk about having problems. If you can, try to be the person who perceives them, and tells them that things can be better.

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pucksandpower · 8 months

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Head Over Heels

Charles Leclerc x Vasseur!Reader x Carlos Sainz

Summary: in which Charles and Carlos are head over heels for you and you’re still painfully oblivious despite their best efforts

Warnings: this is a poly fic, overwhelming amounts of fluff

“Hey, Y/N! You’ve got a delivery!”

You look up, confused, as one of the mechanics hands over a beautifully wrapped bouquet. The vibrant pink roses and lilies contrast strikingly against the red of the Ferrari motorhome.

“For me? Who’s it from?” You ask, genuinely puzzled.

The attached card is simple: For someone who lights up the track without even racing.

“Must be from a sponsor or someone thanking Dad,” you muse aloud, inhaling the fragrant bouquet.

Your father, Fred Vasseur, chuckles from a few steps away, “A sponsor, you think?”

You nod, genuinely convinced, “Who else?”

Charles, emerging from his cool-down session after practice, spots you with the flowers. His heart does a little jolt, hoping you’d recognize his gesture. “Those are beautiful,” he comments, trying to sound casual.

“They are, aren’t they?” You beam, holding them out to let him get a better look. “I think they’re from a sponsor or something. It’s a nice touch.”

A small, knowing smile tugs at Charles’ lips but he just nods. “Very thoughtful of them.”

Your father watches the exchange with an amused smirk, clearly catching on to Charles’ hidden intentions. He leans in to whisper to the Monegasque driver, “You sure you want to keep it anonymous, Leclerc?”

Charles shrugs but there’s a hint of red on his cheeks, “I thought it’d be more … romantic? But I didn’t think she would be this oblivious.”

Your father chuckles, patting Charles on the back, “Give it time, son.”

The day continues and you go about your tasks, occasionally stopping to admire the flowers, still clueless about their real origin. Everyone around seems to be sharing knowing glances and subtle nudges.

Carlos, having heard about Charles’ gesture, approaches you. “Heard you got a surprise today,” he comments playfully.

You nod, beaming, “Yeah, a pleasant one. It’s always nice to be appreciated, even if it’s indirectly.”

Charles, overhearing, sighs from a distance. “I need to up my game,” he murmurs to himself.

***

“Morning, Y/N! I brought you something.”

You glance up from your paperwork to find Carlos holding out a steaming cup of coffee and a beautifully wrapped pastry. You can’t help but smile, already salivating.

“Thanks, Carlos. This is such a treat! How do you always know where to find the best coffee and pastries?”

Carlos shrugs, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he smiles, “Oh, you know. Just lucky, I guess.”

Your father watches the exchange from a distance, laughing softly. “Carlos sure seems to have a knack for pleasing your taste buds,” he teases as he approaches.

Rolling your eyes playfully, you reply, “He’s just being friendly, Dad. Everyone loves a good pastry, right?”

Your father just raises an eyebrow, sipping his own coffee, “If you say so.”

Carlos, seeing an opportunity, chimes in, “Actually, I’ve been exploring the local bakeries in each city. You know, trying to find the best treats.” He pauses for a second, cheeks reddening ever-so-slightly, “Glad you like them.”

It’s a small confession but enough to get a teasing cheer from some of the mechanics nearby. You just laugh, assuming it’s part of the team's usual banter. “You’re too dedicated, Carlos! Thanks for always thinking of me.”

Carlos chuckles, his eyes betraying a hint of something deeper, “Anything for a … friend.”

Later, as you’re engrossed in your work, Charles passes by, subtly observing the pastry and coffee by your side. He exchanges a brief, understanding look with Carlos.

“You know,” Charles says casually, taking a seat opposite you, “Carlos wakes up an hour early just to find these for you.”

You blink, surprised, “Really?”

Charles nods, smirking, “Ask anyone here. They’ve seen him race off, rain or shine.”

Your heart swells with appreciation. “I had no idea,” you whisper, truly touched.

Carlos, overhearing, intervenes with a chuckle, “Leclerc, stop making it sound so dramatic! I just … like to start my day with a good treat, that’s all."

You smile warmly, taking a sip of your coffee, “You’re such a good friend, Carlos. I’m lucky to have you looking out for me like this.”

Carlos nods, swallowing down a hint of disappointment, “Always, Y/N. Just looking out for a friend, right?��

Your father passing by, catches the tail end of the conversation. He winks at Carlos, teasing, “Oh, absolutely. Just a friend.”

Carlos shoots him a mock glare but there’s a smirk on his lips. “Exactly. Just doing what any good friend would do.”

You laugh, completely missing the underlying tension, “Well, here’s to more coffee-filled mornings. Thanks, friend.”

Carlos raises his cup in a mock toast, “To friendship.” But there’s a certain longing in his eyes, a silent hope that someday friendship might evolve into something more.

***

“Y/N, have you ever thought of getting behind the wheel?”

You glance up from your notes, finding Charles leaning against your desk, a mischievous glint in his eye. You laugh, “Of a race car? Surely you’re joking.”

He shrugs, an inviting smirk on his face, “Who better to teach you than a Ferrari driver?”

Your eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “Are you offering?”

Charles nods. “Why not? It’ll be fun and maybe you’ll get a new appreciation for what we do.”

You consider it. “Alright, when?”

“How about after tomorrow’s practice session? The track will be free.”

Carlos, overhearing the conversation, interjects, “Planning some secret training without me?” His tone is playful but there’s an underlying hint of jealousy.

Charles grins, “Just thought I’d offer our friend here a little taste of the track life.”

You chuckle, “Don’t worry, Carlos. If I crash, I promise I’ll come to you for my second lesson.”

Carlos smirks, “I’ll hold you to that.”

The following day, after the practice session, you find yourself clad in a racing suit, helmet in hand, feeling a mixture of excitement and nerves. Charles approaches, looking much more confident than you feel.

“Ready?” He asks, voice full of anticipation.

You nod, gulping down your anxiety. “As I’ll ever be.”

The next hour is a blur of acceleration, sharp turns, and the roar of the engine. Charles proves to be a patient and encouraging teacher, guiding you through the intricacies of handling a race car. The adrenaline, the rush, and the sheer power of the machine are intoxicating.

At one point, as you glide around a particularly challenging curve, Charles whoops in delight from the passenger seat, “That’s it, Y/N! You’re a natural!”

Your laughter rings out, pure and genuine, “Maybe I’ve found my new calling.”

As the session comes to an end and the two of you climb out of the car, Carlos approaches, clapping. “Not bad for a rookie,” he teases.

You playfully shove him, “Thanks to my excellent instructor here.”

Charles laughs, ruffling your hair, “You were great, seriously.”

Carlos nods in agreement, “I guess I’ll be out of a job soon.”

You roll your eyes, “One lesson and suddenly I’m a pro? You flatter me. But seriously, this was amazing. Truly. Thank you for sharing this with me.”

Charles grins, “Anytime. And remember, there’s always more to learn.”

Carlos smirks, “And more instructors available, just in case.”

You laugh, “I’ll keep that in mind. For now, let’s celebrate me not crashing the car!”

As you all head off, you link arms with Charles, “You know, for a moment there, I felt the thrill you must feel during races. Thanks for being such a good friend and showing me that world.”

Charles smiles softly, a pang of both happiness and a touch of disappointment at the word you used. “Of course. Anything for a friend.”

Carlos, observing from a distance, shares a knowing look with Charles. The message is clear: the race is far from over.

***

“Hey, Y/N. Can’t sleep?”

You’re startled to find Carlos waiting by the hotel lobby, a charming smile playing on his lips. The clock on the wall reads just past midnight.

You rub your eyes, yawning, “No, not really. Jet lag, I guess.”

Carlos gestures toward the entrance, “How about a midnight stroll? I know this beautiful spot nearby.”

You hesitate for a moment but then nod, intrigued. “Sure, why not? Lead the way.”

The two of you step out into the cool night to find the quiet city bathed in soft light. The silence is comfortable as you walk side by side.

As you amble along, you can’t help but wonder, “Why are you up so late?”

He glances at you, “Couldn’t sleep either. And I thought maybe you’d enjoy some company.”

You smile, touched by his thoughtfulness. “That’s really sweet of you.”

He points to a quiet park with a pond, its surface shimmering with the reflection of the moon. “Here we are. This place always helps me clear my head whenever we’re in town for a race.”

You settle on a bench and Carlos quickly sits beside you, shoulders brushing lightly.

The night unfolds with shared stories and laughter. Carlos opens up about his journey in racing, the challenges he’s faced, and the moments of triumph. You listen intently, feeling a newfound connection.

As the hours slip away, Carlos admits with a soft chuckle, “You know, I’ve never brought anyone here before.”

You raise an eyebrow, “Really? Why me?”

Carlos smiles, the moonlight illuminating his face. “Because you’re special. You’re different from anyone I’ve met on or off the circuit.”

A warm feeling washes over you. “Thank you. That means a lot.”

He turns toward you, his gaze intense, “Y/N, there’s something I’ve been wanting to say. Something I’ve been feeling for a while.”

But just as he’s about to speak, you yawn loudly, unable to hide your exhaustion any longer. “Sorry. I guess jet lag finally caught up with me.”

He chuckles, disappointment flickering in his eyes, “No worries. Let’s head back.”

When you reach the hotel entrance, Carlos bids you goodnight, his voice tinged with a hint of longing. “Get some rest. We’ll have a busy day tomorrow.”

You smile sleepily, giving him a friendly hug, “Thanks for the midnight adventure. It was nice.”

He holds you for a moment longer than usual before pulling away, “Anytime. Sweet dreams.”

***

“Another one? Seriously?”

You chuckle, pulling out a small folded note from your jacket pocket, the fifth one this week.

“The world’s fastest circuits are slow compared to how fast you make my heart beat.” You read aloud, your cheeks warming at the words.

Carlos, seated nearby, smirks, “Someone’s clearly smitten with you. Any idea who?”

You shrug, “I figured they’re just motivational notes from the team. You know, to keep spirits up.”

Charles joins in, trying to keep his face neutral, “They’re quite poetic for just team motivation, don’t you think?”

You ponder his words, tilting your head. “I guess? But who would be sending them?”

Carlos snorts, “Oh, come on! It’s so obvious.”

You shoot him a confused look, “It is?”

Carlos and Charles exchange a glance, silently communicating. Charles, deciding to have a bit of fun, teases, “Well, they’re definitely from someone who admires you. And since they’re always hidden in places only the team has access to, it’s likely from someone here.”

Carlos nods in agreement, “Sounds about right.”

You laugh, shaking your head, “You guys are just trying to rile me up. It’s probably just one of the pit crew playing a prank.”

Charles, a touch defensive, says, “You might be surprised. Maybe you have a secret admirer closer than you think.”

Your father, passing by, overhears the conversation and chuckles, “It’s about time she figures it out.”

You stare, completely baffled, “Figures what out?”

He just winks, patting Charles on the shoulder, “Keep trying.”

Your day is filled with speculation and curious glances, with everyone seeming to be in on a secret that you aren’t privy to. The notes, while touching, become a source of playful teasing.

That evening, as you prepare for bed, you find another note tucked inside your notebook: Your passion and dedication make even the toughest races feel like victories.

You can’t help but smile. “Who are you?” You whisper to yourself.

Little do you know, just a few rooms away, Charles is scribbling down another note, his heart set on winning yours, one word at a time.

***

The night is electric, the post-race party in full swing, music thumping and lights reflecting off the crystal-clear waters of the pool.

“Y/N! Join us for a dance?”

You turn, finding Carlos standing there, his hand outstretched and a playful smile on his face.

You laugh, “You’ve seen me dance. You sure you want to take that risk?”

He chuckles, pulling you closer to the dance floor, “For you? Always.”

As the music shifts to a slower, more intimate tune, you feel a bit self-conscious. But Carlos guides you gracefully, making you feel as if you’re the only two people in the world.

“See? You’re a natural,” Carlos murmurs, his dark eyes locked onto yours.

You chuckle, “Or you’re just an excellent lead.”

Carlos smirks, “Could be both.”

Throughout the night you share more dances, both with Carlos and a few with Charles, who also proves to be quite the dancer. Each time you’re spun, dipped, or drawn close, there’s an electric charge, a connection that’s impossible to ignore.

“Enjoying yourself?” Charles asks during one dance, his voice soft and sincere.

You nod, “Very much so. It’s not every day I get to dance with Ferrari’s finest.”

Charles smirks, “Glad to be of service. You’re quite the dancer yourself, you know.”

You roll your eyes, “You’re just saying that.”

He leans in closer, his voice dropping to a whisper, “I mean every word.”

Before you can process his statement, Carlos swoops in, teasing, “Mind if I cut in?”

Charles sighs, releasing you, “Go on but save the next one for me.”

Carlos, dancing you away, smirks, “He’s quite smitten with you.”

You laugh, “Oh, stop. We’re just friends.”

Carlos raises an eyebrow, “Are you sure about that?”

You nod, “Absolutely.”

Carlos, holding you a bit closer, murmurs just low enough so only he can hear, “And he’s not the only one who’s smitten.” The hint of longing in his eyes remains hidden to you as the dance continues.

***

“Welcome to the local side of my home!” Charles exclaims with an open gesture, Monaco sprawling before you in all its glory.

You gaze around, taking in the sights of the city. “It’s beautiful. The tourist traps and casinos really don’t do it justice.”

He grins, obviously proud. “I thought you’d appreciate a personal tour. Ready?”

You nod enthusiastically, “Absolutely.”

Charles leads you through winding streets, each corner revealing another story, another memory. “This is where I had my first gelato,” he shares, pointing at a quaint little shop. “And over there,” he gestures to a narrow cobblestone lane, “is where I learned to ride a bike.”

You chuckle, “Really? These streets seem a bit treacherous for a kid on a bike.”

He laughs, “Let’s just say there were a few scrapes and bruises.”

As you continue, Charles points out his favorite viewpoints, cafes, and even his childhood home. It’s an intimate glimpse into his world and you feel honored.

“You know,” you say, pausing to gaze out over the harbor, “it’s one thing to know someone as a colleague and it’s another to really know them. Thank you for sharing this with me.”

Charles looks at you, genuine warmth in his eyes. “I wanted you to see where I come from, the place that shaped me. Who better to share it with than you?”

You smile, touched. The two of you continue, with Charles occasionally slipping his hand into yours, guiding you along.

Towards the end of the tour, you stop at a cozy café overlooking the sea. As you sip your drinks, Charles leans in, his tone serious. “Y/N, there’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you.”

You look up, curiosity piqued. “What is it?”

Before he can speak, his phone rings. Glancing at the caller ID, Charles sighs. “It’s the team. I have to take this.”

You nod, understanding. “Go ahead.”

When Charles hangs up, he looks apologetic. “I’m so sorry. Duty calls.”

You smile, reassuringly, “It’s okay. Today was special. Thank you.”

Charles nods, hesitating for a moment, as if wanting to say more. Instead, he simply leans in, planting a soft kiss on your forehead. “Until next time.”

***

“Oh, this doesn’t look good,” you mutter, noticing the looming dark clouds as you hurry through the paddock.

Before you can take another step, raindrops start to fall, quickly morphing into a torrential downpour. You’re caught in the middle, water soaking your clothes and making your paperwork soggy.

From a distance, Carlos notices your plight. “Y/N!” He calls out, already running towards you with an umbrella in hand.

By the time he reaches you, you’re thoroughly drenched, strands of hair stuck to your face. “Took a sudden shower, did we?” He teases, even as he huddles you under the umbrella.

You chuckle, shivering slightly, “It seems so. Thanks for the rescue.”

Carlos slips off his jacket and wraps it around you. The warmth of it, combined with his scent — a mix of cologne, fresh rain, and something uniquely Carlos — is comforting.

“You’re getting soaked!” You protest, noticing his wet shirt clinging to his toned body.

Carlos just shrugs, “You needed it more than I did.”

As the two of you find shelter from the storm, the tension between you is palpable. The rain has created a sudden intimacy and you’re both acutely aware of each other.

“Better?” Carlos asks, his voice softer than usual, noticing you inhaling the scent of his jacket.

You nod, cheeks heating up. “Yeah. Smells like ... well, you.”

He smirks, “Is that a good thing?”

You glance up, meeting his gaze, “Definitely.”

There’s a pause, a shared moment where neither of you needs to speak. The rain pattering outside creates a rhythmic backdrop to the charged atmosphere.

Carlos breaks the silence, his voice barely above a whisper, “Y/N, I …”

You lean in, “Yes?”

Just then, a gust of wind blows the umbrella out of Carlos’ hand, startling the both of you. The sudden distraction breaks the intensity of the moment and you both laugh at the absurdity of it.

Carlos, trying to chase the runaway umbrella, calls out, “Rain check?”

You laugh, trying to calm your racing heartbeat, “Quite literally.”

***

“You won’t believe what Carlos did this time,” Antonio, one of the lead engineers, whispers to Paolo, a senior mechanic.

You’re nearby, checking the equipment for the upcoming practice session, but their hushed conversation catches your attention.

Paolo chuckles, “Can’t be crazier than what Charles tried last week.”

Antonio smirks, “Trust me, it’s right up there. Both of them, head over heels, and all for the same girl.”

Your curiosity piqued, you edge closer, feigning interest in a nearby tire. “Who is it?” You wonder internally, trying to think of any new female team members or journalists that might have caught their eye.

Paolo, clearly enjoying the gossip, leans in, “You think she has any idea?”

Antonio shakes his head, “Nope. She’s completely in the dark. It’s actually kind of adorable how clueless she is.”

You bite your lip, even more intrigued. “Who could it be?” You muse.

Deciding to join in the speculation, you casually approach, “Hey, what’s this I’m hearing about someone making our drivers lose their heads?”

Both men look up, surprised to see you so close. Antonio stammers, “Oh, hey Y/N. Just, um, some silly paddock rumors.”

Paolo, trying to divert the topic, adds, “You know how it is. People love making up stories.”

You nod, playing along, “Of course. But, come on, spill. Who’s the lucky girl? Anyone I know?”

Antonio and Paolo exchange glances, trying to gauge how much to reveal. Antonio finally speaks, “Let’s just say she’s someone who is always around but seems to be missing all the signs.”

You laugh, “Sounds like she’s got her head in the clouds. I can’t wait to find out who she is.”

Paolo grins, “Oh, it’ll come out eventually. These things always do.”

***

The meet-and-greet in Maranello is packed to the brim. Fans from all over the world have gathered to meet their favorite drivers and the team uniform you’re wearing means you’ve gathered a considerable crowd around you too.

As you sign autographs and chat with fans, you notice a group of them exchanging knowing glances and excited whispers.

“Y/N,” one brave fan begins, “we’ve got a question for you.”

You raise an eyebrow, “Sure, fire away.”

The fan clears their throat, “We’ve been following you and the drivers closely, and, well, we couldn’t help but notice something.”

You exchange a curious look with them, “Notice what?”

Another fan chimes in, “You see, Charles and Carlos, they ... they seem to be really close, you know, off the track.”

You nod, “Yeah, they’re good friends.”

A third fan interjects, ‘It’s more than that, though. We think they’re totally into someone.”

You chuckle, thinking they’re just indulging in the typical gossip. “Well, they are both very passionate about racing if that’s what you mean.”

The fans exchange disappointed glances. “She really doesn’t get it,” one of them whispers.

But they’re not giving up that easily. Another fan seems to have a plan. “Okay, Y/N, hypothetical scenario. What if these two drivers were in a race not for points but for something else?”

You’re intrigued, “What do you mean?”

The fan grins, “Imagine if they were trying to win someone’s heart and that someone is right here, oblivious to it all.”

You laugh, amused by their playful scenario. “That would be quite the competition.”

They exchange triumphant glances, “Exactly! So, who do you think this lucky person is?”

You shrug, genuinely not knowing who they’re referring to, “I have no idea. Probably some lucky girl out there.”

The fans let out an exaggerated groan, “She really has no clue.”

Another fan leans in, conspiratorial, “What if we told you that this lucky person is not some random girl but someone they work closely with?”

“What do you mean?”

The fans exchange sly grins, “We mean, what if the person they’re vying for is ... you?”

Your eyes widen in surprise and you laugh, thinking they’re just pulling your leg, “Me? That’s crazy. They’re just my friends.”

The fans share a look of exasperation and one of them sighs, “She’s hopeless.”

***

“Alright, everyone, gather around! Intervention time!” Your father announces, drawing you into the center of the group of staff that were gathered on the first floor of the Ferrari motorhome.

You look around, bewildered. “What’s going on?”

Paolo, chuckling, pats your shoulder, “You’ve got the observational skills of a goldfish.”

You pout, “Hey! I notice things.”

Antonio snorts, “Oh, really? Do you recall Monaco? During the team photo?”

You nod, confused, “Yeah, we were all there.”

Antonio grins, “Carlos was standing right next to you. Instead of giving a thumbs-up like everyone else, he made a heart sign with his hands right behind you. Literally, right behind your head.”

Eyes wide, you protest, “He did?”

Your father chimes in, “And remember in Silverstone? When you lost that bracelet your mother gave you?”

You nod, “Yes, I was devastated.”

He continues, “Charles spent the entire night searching for it. He found it at 3 am and then hand-delivered it to your room.”

Antonio adds, chuckling, “Wearing those ridiculous race car pajamas, I might add.”

You blink, processing the information, “I thought I just dropped it while getting dressed ...”

Paolo, shaking his head in amusement, recounts, “During the team BBQ, Carlos grilled those vegetarian sausages especially for you. Remember wondering why we had them?”

Your cheeks turn a shade redder, “I just thought he was being considerate for the vegetarians on the team.”

Your father laughs, “We don’t have any other vegetarians on the team, darling.”

Antonio recalls another incident, “In Spain, during that heatwave? Charles, out of nowhere, had a mini fan delivered to you. Said it was team equipment.”

You gasp, “That was him?”

Paolo, grinning, continues, “Ever wonder who leaves those freshly peeled oranges on your desk every race day? That’s Carlos’ handiwork.”

You shake your head in disbelief, “But … why?”

Your father steps forward, placing a comforting arm around you, “Sweetheart, it’s because they’re both completely smitten with you. And while it’s entertaining for us to watch, it’s also driving the entire team bonkers with every passing day that you don’t realize.”

You look around, taking in the nodding heads and amused expressions, “I ... I had no idea.”

Antonio chuckles, “Clearly.”

Paolo adds, “It’s like watching a rom-com unfold right before our eyes, only you seem to have missed the entire plot.”

You laugh sheepishly, rubbing the back of your neck, “Okay, maybe I’ve been a bit oblivious.”

Your father smirks, “A bit oblivious? That’s like saying Ferrari is known for being a bit red.”

Antonio gives you a friendly pat on the back, “Welcome to the real race, Y/N. Buckle up.”

***

Carlos clears his throat, his usual confidence replaced with a rare nervousness, “Y/N, can we talk? Like, really talk?”

You drop what you’re doing, “Of course. What’s on your mind?”

Charles, appearing from the shadows, adds, “Actually, I’d like to be part of this conversation as well.”

You’re taken aback. “Alright, you both have my attention.”

Carlos begins, running his fingers through his hair, “You know, racing isn’t just about speed. It’s about timing, making the right move at the right moment.”

Charles nods in agreement, “Sometimes, you wait too long and the opportunity passes you by.”

You squint, trying to decipher their cryptic words, “Are we talking about racing or ...?”

Carlos exhales deeply, “This isn’t about racing. This is about ... us. You, me, Charles.”

Charles interjects, his gaze intense, “It’s about feelings. Ones that have been growing and evolving.”

You swallow, your heart pounding, “I think I know where this is going.”

Carlos, his voice laced with vulnerability, confesses, “Every time I do something hoping it will make you smile, every time I go out of my way just to be near you ... it’s not just because of friendship.”

Charles adds, “And every gesture, every moment we’ve shared, it’s been my way of trying to show you how I feel.”

Your eyes well up with emotion, “I ... I gained an inkling just recently but I still wasn’t sure.”

Carlos takes a deep breath, “We’re not just talking about individual feelings here. What we’re trying to say is we both care for you and we’ve discussed it. We both want to be with you and for the three of us to explore this ... together.”

Charles nods, “We want to navigate this track as a trio. If you’re willing.”

Carlos steps closer, his eyes searching yours, “We just needed you to know. Whatever you decide, we’ll respect it.”

Charles nods, “Just ... take your time. We’re here, no matter what.”

You take a deep breath, “I need some time to think, to process all of this.”

Carlos offers a soft smile, “Of course, Y/N. We understand.”

Charles gently places a hand on your shoulder, “We’ll wait, however long it takes. Your feelings matter to us. You matter to us.”

***

“Safety car deployed, safety car deployed!” The voice over the radio jolts you into high alert.

“What happened?” You ask anxiously, watching the large screen that displays the race.

Your father’s voice shakes slightly, “Multi-car collision at Turn 4. I can’t see which cars are involved yet.”

Your heart races, thinking of Charles and Carlos. “Please, let them be okay.”

Paolo, eyes glued to the live feed, mutters, “This looks bad.”

The images on the screen show plumes of smoke and debris scattered across the track. The safety car slows the procession of vehicles and you can see marshals running toward the crash site.

Suddenly, Charles comes on the radio, sounding strained but intact, “I’m okay but Carlos ... I can’t see Carlos.”

A weight settles in your stomach. Panic floods your veins. “Please, no.”

His race engineer’s voice cracks with urgency, “Carlos, if you can hear me please respond.”

What feels like hours pass but in reality it’s only seconds before Carlos’ shaky voice breaks through, “I’m here ... I’m okay. Got a bit shaken but I’m fine.”

You slump in relief, tears pricking your eyes. The reality of how precious life is and how quickly things can change hits you like a tidal wave.

Once the chaos subsides and both Charles and Carlos are confirmed safe, you rush out to the pits, needing to see them with your own eyes.

Charles, spotting you first, rushes over, his race suit smeared with dirt and sweat. Without a word, he pulls you into a tight embrace, the tension and relief palpable between you two.

Carlos joins, wrapping his arms around both of you, his breathing still slightly labored from the shock.

You pull away, tears streaming down your face, “Don’t you ever scare me like that again.”

Carlos musters up a hint of a smirk, “Didn’t plan to, trust me.”

Charles adds softly, looking deep into your eyes, “It makes you realize what’s really important.”

You nod, your decision clear. The events of the day, combined with the confessions of the previous week, cement your feelings. “Life is short. Too short not to be with who you care about.”

Carlos raises an eyebrow, “Does that mean ...?”

You smile, nodding, “Yes. I want to be with both of you. We’ll figure it all out together.”

***

“France in winter is so enchanting,” Carlos muses as you all stroll through the snow-covered streets of your hometown, having flown there right after the end of the season.

You laugh, “You should see it in spring.”

Charles wraps one an arm around your waist and the other around Carlos, “With you as our guide, I’m sure every season is beautiful.”

The moment you all step into your family home, the familiar smell of your favorite dish wafts through the air. “Ah, maman’s coq au vin!” You exclaim.

Carlos looks intrigued, “What’s that?”

“It’s a traditional French chicken stew,” Charles explains, revealing his fondness for it too.

At the dinner table, your father raises a toast, “To family, old and new.” It’s a nod to Charles and Carlos, welcoming them into the fold.

Throughout the night, more wine is poured and stories are exchanged. Heading about your childhood misadventures makes Carlos chuckle and Charles smirk as your mother brings out the photo album no matter how much you beg her to save you the embarrassment.

Your grandmother pulls you aside and whispers, “It’s beautiful, cherie, how the heart can expand to make room for more love.”

***

Next stop: Monaco. Before you can even ring the doorbell to Charles’ family home, Lorenzo swings it open, his grin wide. “Ah! The infamous new trio. We’ve heard so much about you.”

You laugh, “All good things, I hope?”

Arthur, joining Lorenzo at the doorway, smirks, “Mostly just about how our dear Charles here can’t stop talking about you.”

Charles rolls his eyes, a hint of red tinting his cheeks. “Can we not start with the teasing five seconds in?”

Carlos chuckles, elbowing Charles lightly, “It’s what brothers are for, right?”

Lorenzo nods, winking at you, “Oh, absolutely. You should’ve seen Charles when he was younger. Always getting into mischief.”

Arthur, with a gleeful glint in his eyes, adds, “Remember that time with the go-kart?”

Charles groans, “Do we really have to bring that up now?”

“Oh, but now I’m curious.”

Lorenzo, not missing a beat, narrates, “Our dear Charles decided to modify his go-kart engine. Let’s just say it ended up in the neighbor’s pool.”

Carlos bursts into laughter, “I wish I’d seen that!”

At one point, when Charles steps out to take a call, Lorenzo leans in, “In all seriousness, we haven’t seen Charles this happy in a long time.”

Arthur nods in agreement, “Whatever you two are doing, keep it up. It’s good for him.”

***

The three of you touch down in Spain to ring in the New Year. The evening is filled with laughter, traditional music, and the tantalizing aroma of home-cooked meals. As midnight approached, Carlos’ mother brings out individual bowls filled with glistening grapes.

“You know about the Spanish tradition, right?” Carlos asks.

You shake your head.

Carlos explains, “At the stroke of midnight, for every chime of the clock, you eat a grape. Twelve chimes, twelve grapes. It’s said to bring good luck for the coming year.”

You chuckle, eyeing the bowl, “Sounds easy enough.”

It was not easy.

The first chime rings out and everyone pops a grape into their mouth. By the fourth chime, you’re struggling, laughter bubbling up around a mouthful of the fruit as you desperately try to keep up.

Charles, equally struggling, shoots you a wide-eyed look, grapes nearly falling out of his mouth.

Carlos, on the other hand, seems to have mastered the art, smoothly munching away, though his eyes reveal his suppressed laughter.

As the twelfth chime rings out, you finally manage to swallow the mouthful, gasping for breath air rounded by the hearty laughter of Carlos’ family.

Carlos’ father claps you and Charles on the back, “Well done! You two are practically Spanish now.”

You laugh, wiping away a tear, “I think I’ll need a few more years of practice.”

Carlos grins, wrapping an arm around you, “Don’t worry, we will have many more New Years for you to perfect it.”

***

The sun casts a golden hue on the beach, the waves gently lapping at the shore. Your feet are buried in the soft sand and you lean back, enjoying the feeling of warmth on your skin.

Taking a moment to appreciate the surroundings, you sigh, “The view is so breathtaking.”

Charles, reclining beside you with sunglasses perched atop his head, follows your gaze. His eyes, however, are not on the horizon but on Carlos, who’s emerging from the water, droplets glistening on his toned body. Without missing a beat, Charles replies flirtatiously, “Yes, he definitely is.”

Carlos laughs as he approaches, water dripping from him, “You two are impossible.”

You smirk, “Well, can you blame him? You do look quite ... impressive."

Carlos, towel now draped around his neck, grins, “Is that so? Maybe I should spend more time at the beach then.”

Charles mock pouts, “And less time with your car?”

Carlos pretends to think about it, “Tough choice. But I think I can find a balance.”

***

“Look who’s back and glowing!” Paolo greets as the three of you walk into the paddock together for pre-season testing.

Antonio joins in the teasing, “Carlos, you’ve got that sun-kissed tan going on and Charles ... did you forget the sunscreen again?”

Charles laughs sheepishly, touching his slightly reddened nose, “Apparently, I just burn.”

Carlos smirks, “We tried but some people are just destined to be crispy.”

You laugh, nudging Carlos, “Don’t be mean. But … we did have that one day when he turned a shade that matched the Ferrari.”

***

“Here’s to the dream team!” Antonio raises his champagne flute, his eyes shimmering under the bright lights of the party.

Charles, holding his second-place trophy, grins, nudging Carlos who’s proudly holding his first-place one. “Feels pretty good to have another double podium, doesn’t it?”

Carlos laughs, “Only because I’m one step higher!”

“Hey! It was the other way around last weekend,” Charles pretends to sulk.

You roll your eyes playfully, “Children, children. Share your toys nicely.”

Paolo chimes in, “It’s not just about the podium finishes. The energy this season ... it’s been different, more vibrant.”

Charles takes a moment, his gaze flitting between Carlos and you. “Well, happiness does tend to have that effect.”

Carlos wraps an arm around you both, pulling you close. “I couldn’t have said it better.”

***

“You would think that after all these years, I’d have gotten the hang of it,” your father laments, eyeing the bowl of freshly washed grapes in front of him.

Carlos’ mother laughs, patting his arm, “You’ll do just fine this time, Fred. We’ve all been practicing.”

Charles smirks, glancing at his brothers, “Oh, trust me, they’ve turned it into a competitive sport. Last year, Lorenzo managed to eat an extra grape by mistake!”

Lorenzo rolls his eyes, “One time! And I blame Arthur for distracting me.”

“Okay, it’s almost time,” Carlos says. “Remember, the key is not to rush.”

You chuckle, “Says the man who’s been acing this since he was a kid.”

Carlos winks, “Natural talent.”

The clock begins to chime, marking the impending arrival of the New Year. Everyone takes their positions, holding their grapes, waiting for the signal.

As each chime rings out, laughter fills the room. The past mishaps with the grapes only make the current attempt all the more entertaining.

When the twelfth chime fades, everyone erupts in cheers. Even your father, much to his delight, has successfully completed it in time.

Charles wraps an arm around you, “Another year, another challenge conquered.”

Carlos steps up to kiss both of you, tasting distinctly of grape, “With many more to come.”

You smile, looking around at the blending of families, the fusion of traditions, and the love that fills the room. “I can’t wait to spend every New Year together with you for the rest of our lives.”

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minkyungseokie · 1 month

Text

Three's A Crowd | Pierre Gasly + Kika Gomes

synopsis; y/n meets Kika and Pierre and they're immediately smitten. They try to express their interest, but it seems everyone except Y/n sees that

warnings; polyamory, controversial age gaps, implied homophobic family, implied religious ideology, random Portuguese and French pet names

note; requested

note2; I don't really like Kika, but it's that type where you don't dislike someone, but you don't like them either. I'm neutral about her ig

reader is African American with 3B hair

Autosports Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Pierre Masterlist

I do not give anyone permission to change, copy, or put my work on any other platform. It will only be on top, so if you see it, please report it. Or let me know.

Although the relationship was new, Kika and Pierre were secure in their relationship. They trusted each other even though the the relationship was so new for them. They didn't think they'd be attracted to anyone other than each other. Kika never could've seen herself with someone of the same gender or anything.

Until they saw her.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Kika was standing with Pierre in front of the Alpine garage, listening and looking around as Pierre talked to Charles about god knows what. She looked around the paddock until something caught her attention. It was an incoming group of people that included a bunch of visitors, engineers, Zhou, and a gorgeous woman who she had never seen before.

"Pierre. Pierre. Look." Kika tapped on her boyfriend's shoulder to greet his attention, "What is it?" Pierre asked, turning and putting an arm around the nineteen-year-old. "Who's that?" Kika questioned, pointing to the girl she had seen, "I don't know." Pierre answered breathily, "She's so pretty." Kika muttered and Pierre couldn't help but to agree, "But not as pretty as you." Pierre quickly added, kissing the top of her head.

"Shut up, Pierre." Kika joked, playfully slapping his chest while not taking her eyes off of the girl, "Charles, do you know who she is?" Pierre asked, pointing towards the girl who was in a pair of patchwork jeans, a yellow crop top with a weird pattern on it, and brown Prada platform shoes(if you don’t like the outfit, or you’re plus size, or you don’t wear immodest clothing, feel free to change it. I want to be inclusive!)

"Oh, she’s a friend I’ve known since her birth. She grew up with Arthur. " Charles said, "Is she single?" Another voice chimed in playfully. Lando popped up with a huge smile, showing that he was just joking, “She is single and in need of other friends or even a boyfriend. She third wheels with my girlfriend and I way too often.” Charles joked. “Introduce us to her.” Pierre blurted, eyes widening when his friends and girlfriend turned to him with questioning looks, “What? You said she needed more friends.” Pierre defended.

“She does, but preferably single friends. And not you.” Charles jested causing Pierre to clutch his pearls, “I’ll have you know, I’m a great friend, Charles.” Pierre gasped. Lando and Kika tittered at the duo, “I don’t see why I couldn’t introduce you to her. Are you coming with Lando?” Charles asked, looking to the Brit, “As much as I’d love to, I’m being called to the garage. I’ll meet her later though.” Lando offered, turning and walking off.

Charles led the way to the Ferrari garage with the couple trailing behind, “Hey, Y/n!” Charles greeted, giving the girl a tight hug, “Charlie! I’m so glad you invited me to come watch you race. I’ve missed you.” The girl said, returning the hug. “I’ve missed you too. There’s some people I want to introduce you to. This is my best friend and his girlfriend.” Charles let go of you and gestured to the couple behind him.

Pierre and Kika stepped forward with welcoming smiles, “Hello, I’m Pierre Gasly. It’s wonderful to meet you.” Pierre greeted, shaking her hand, “I’m Francisca Gomes, but you can call me Kika.” Kika introduced also holding out her hand. The beautiful woman gave them a smile and clasped their outstretched hand in both of her, shaking it in greeting starting with Pierre, “My name is Y/n L/n. It’s lovely to meet you, Mr. Gasly and Ms. Gomes.” Y/n said.

“Oh? You don’t have to call us Ms and Mr. We can’t be that much older than you.” Pierre waved off the formalities, “I’m eighteen.” Y/n spoke.

“Oh.”

After a moment of still silence, Kika spoke up, “Well, I’m only a year older. Just call me Kika and him, Pierre. No need to be formal with us.” Kika said, “Oui, any friends of Charles is a friend of ours.” Pierre added.

“Well, I hope to become good friends with you.”

It's been four long and beautiful years of friendship for the three since then, or, Y/n thought it was friendship. Kika and Pierre had fallen for the charm of the curly-haired beauty only a few months into the friendship. It took a bit of denial and acceptance for both, mostly on Kika's part since she's never been interested in another woman ever in her life, but the two eventually agreed that they would pursue the girl, but only after they tested out the waters.

After they were sure that they really wanted to be with her as more than friends, they began to fully pursue her. They flirted, they gifted her things, they joked, they laughed, they invited her on dates (that she didn't know were dates), and they were touchy. They were sure that Y/n would catch the hint and let them know whether she was comfortable with what they were doing or not, but there's one thing they didn't account for.

Y/n being completely unaware and oblivious of their intentions.

The girl knew so much about a lot of things, but not when people were flirting with her. And now it's been going on for three and a half years. They've given so many hints that literally everyone except Y/n knew that the couple were into her the way they were.

"Pierre, why don't you just tell her that you're into her?" Esteban asked, putting an arm around his girlfriend's shoulders, "I'm not sure, but we agreed to not just spring it on her like that. We wanted to ease her into it, but does not getting the hint." Pierre sighed. "She's not going to get it unless you tell her. She's been like this all her life, which is why she never had a relationship before." Charles explained, "She's never been in a relationship? How? She's gorgeous." Pierre scoffed.

"Didn't you hear him, mate? It's because she's oblivious." Lando spoke up, joining the group who were standing in front of McLaren garage like a bunch of gossiping high schoolers. "What are we talking about?" Lewis asked as he and Carlos joined the group, "You know how Pierre and Kika are into Y/n? We were just asking him any they didn't just ask her out." Charles explained. Lewis and Carlos looked at Pierre, "So why don't you?" Carlos questioned, Pierre groaned, "Kika and I felt like we shouldn't just outright ask her. We didn't want to force it on her." Pierre said.

"She's never going to get it off you don't tell her." Lewis said, "That's what I said!" Charles exclaimed, fist bumping his future teammate. "We're planting to take her out after this weekend. We're going to spend time together in Italy and maybe vacation together of the girls aren't busy." Pierre sighed, rubbing the back of his head.

"Oooh, that's a great idea. Maybe get an accommodation with only one room and one bed so you all have to share." Lando offered teasingly, "That's not a bad idea actually." Pierre muttered. "Where are you thinking of going?" Oscar spoke up, "Probably Bali. Maybe we'll stay in Italy. We're not sure yet." Pierre answered.

Soon, the group dispersed to go to their drivers rooms to get ready for the race.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Y/n was honestly scared. She had always been openly {your sexuality} and proud about what she was into, but falling for two people at the same time? And two people who were happily together? She felt like a villain. She didn't want to accidentally break up a happy couple because she assumed that they'd be as interested in her as she is to them.

She distanced herself from Pierre and Kika, afraid she would get too attached to couple and accidentally make them uncomfortable with her attraction to them. She still went to the grand prix because she had friends she wanted to support, but instead of going to the Alpine garage like she usually would, she went to the Williams garage to support her favorite British Thai driver and give comfort to her favorite American while she was there. "I know this really isn't my place to ask, but why are you here?" Logan asked, putting the headphones over Y/n's ears for her.

"What do you mean? I'm here for you and Alex. Plus, Lily is here and I do love Lily." Y/n answered, "Love you too!" Lily called back walking up to the duo, "No, I mean, why are you here when you want to be with Kika in the Alpine garage?" Logan reiterated. Y/n sighed, "Because I feel like I'm getting too attached to them. They're a couple who are obviously in love." Y/n said, crossing her arms, "And? They love having you around them. You make them so happy and everyone sees it. I don't think that you being attached to them is a problem." Lily spoke up. "They have something great between them. I feel like if I stay around, I'll reveal how I feel and they'll get disgusted and force me stay away." Y/n ranted, playing with one of her bouncy curls.

Lily and Logan shared a wide-eyed look. They were glad that they had a bit of time before theso they could fully talk, "Y/n, are you...in love with them? Both of them?" Logan asked. Y/n began to sniffle, "Yes! I know it's disgusting and greedy of me to not only want both of them, but to want people who are already happily in love. I know I'm a disgusting creature who doesn't deserve to live for loving someone that I was not intended to love." Y/n cried softly. Lily pulled Y/n into their arms, wrapping her arms around the taller girl's neck, "Oh, honey. It's not disgusting at all. I don't know who told you any of that, but no one has any right to tell you that you're disgusting for loving who you want to love." Lily cooed, wiping away your tears.

"Are things alright over here? Are you alright, Y/n?" James questioned, "Did you hear what we were talking about?" Logan questioned, "Admittedly, I did and I'm here to say Lily is right. Your family cannot may be your blood, but if they do not accept you for who you are and love you despite what you love, they cannot be considered family. No one has any right to tell you that you are going to die and go to hell for loving who you want to love." James comforted. "Plus, you don't need them. You have us. Logan, me, Alex, and even James. You have the Leclerc family and Kika and Pierre. We all love you for you." James reassured, "Don't push Kika and Pierre away. They care for you deeply. If you really are worried, maybe you should talk to them about it." Logan suggested.

Y/n dried their eyes off completely and took off her headphones, "I'm going to the bathroom." Y/n muttered, gently pushing past them and made her way to the Alpine garage. They were right. She can't let her family and their ideology keep her from loving who she wanted to love. She wouldn't be telling the couple about her feelings, but she would no longer be pushing them away like she was. Taking a deep breath, Y/n entered the garage and stopped next to the couple who were engrossed in a conversation, "Uh, hey." Y/n spoke up.

The couple practically break their necks turning to look the girl, "Minha linda! We were just talking about you." Kika gasped happily, throwing her arms around Y/n's neck, "We were afraid that you were running away from us. We missed you, mon bijou." Pierre joined the pseudo hug and planting a kiss on the top of her head. Esteban and Flavy watched from the sidelines, wondering how in the world Y/n just thought that these actions were nothing but platonic when it was clear that they were utterly down bad for the girl with sepia skin and thick ringlets of curls just as she was for them, "I wish they would just get together." Flavy whispered, "For real. It was cute at first, but now it's kind of sad." Esteban agreed.

"I'm sorry. I just needed some time to take care of something and now I'm here to wish you good luck." Y/n smiled up at the Frenchman, "Help me put on my helmet?" Pierre asked the girls. Kika helped him put on his balaclava before stepping back so Y/n could put the helmet on Pierre's head. "Good luck." Y/n said, patting the part of the helmet where his cheek would be and turning to walk, but before she could exit the garage, Kika pulled her back, "No good luck kiss?" Pierre asked, which confused Y/n as they had never asked for one before. Y/n shrugged, thinking nothing of it as she had kissed the cheeks of her other friends before.

Y/n saddled up next to Pierre and planted a kiss on his helmet where his cheek would be, "Good luck out there. Do your best." Y/n repeated before turning to Kika and planting a kiss on her cheek while she had the moment of bravery. "See you guys later." Y/n turned away, walking out of the garage before she busted into a ball of flames from the amount of embarrassment she was feeling.

Kika and Pierre were just watching the girl as she left with love-struck gazes, "We have to make her ours or I'll die." Kika dramatically sighed, "I agree. She drives me crazy and she doesn't even know what's she's doing." Pierre agreed with Kika nodding in agreement

Y/n was confused and conflicted.

Y/n had been offered to come to Italy by Kika and Pierre after the GP was over as they had rented a little place on the beach for them to stay at while on vacation. She, of course, accepted the invite because she had never really been to Italy despite being all over the world. She wanted to take some time to relax and spend time with the ones she really cared for. What better way to spend the next week and a half or so before she gets gray hair during the next race.

But one thing she had not expected was the beach hut thing to have only one bed, “So we’re all sharing this one bed? Are you sure that you’re comfortable with this?” Y/n asked, looking at the bed. “Yeah, it was this or our house and we weren’t sure whether you were comfortable with that or not.” Kika explained, putting her bag down. “Where’s Pierre?” Y/n asked, “He has a couple things to do, so for right now, it’s just you and me for right now. Exciting, yeah?” Kika asked excitedly.

“Yeah, that’s great!” Y/n agreed,

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Pierre arrived at the little beach house and entered with a sigh. He had so much to do that day, he missed spending time with his girls, but at least he’d have the next day with them. Kika had posted photos of them playing in the water and Pierre couldn’t help but feel pride at how many people were asking whether he could fight and whining about how he could pull two baddies while they couldn’t even get a text back.

Pierre unlocked the door and put his suitcase to the side and walked into the room to see Kika curled up in Y/n’s arms. Pierre’s heart raced at the sight of the two people he loved being so close together and he couldn’t wait for Y/n to actually be theirs. Pierre took a quick shower and changed into his pajamas, climbing into the bed behind Y/n and cuddling up to her.

It was the best night’s sleep the three of them had ever gotten.

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charliemwrites · 5 months

Text

Yes yes, I know. Part 9 for Charmed Slasher is coming out soon, I promise.

BUT! I had this Thought and just had to do it real quick!

(CW for violent imagery and actual violence)

Simon's been watching you for weeks.

You're such a sweet, quiet thing. Shy. Happy to let your coworkers lead conversations, chiming in only when directly addressed. You smile like sun peeking through clouds, slow and beaming, prying through darkness.

And they way you peer up through your eyelashes, the corners of your mouth tipping up. Oh, oh... he wants to ruin you.

Thinks of you while he strokes himself in bed, looking up at him through those thick lashes. Sticking together with unshed tears as you choke on his cock. That quietly pleased smile when he purrs that you're doing so well, almost halfway there...

It's becoming a distraction, this preoccupation with you. So many others just let their eyes slide over you, but not Simon. No, he sees you.

That you shred your bottom lip bloody when you're deep in thought. You wrinkle your nose and squeeze your eyes shut when you're trying not to sneeze. Always burn your mouth on your first sip of coffee.

He watches you in your home. The way you curl up with your favorite blanket, leaned up against the arm of the couch. A perfect open space for him to share with you. He memorizes your routines and imagines slotting himself into your life.

He shouldn't. That's not going to stop him.

Price has been staring at him hard when he thinks Simon won't notice. Gaz has been jumpier; the recruits whispering more fervently. They can sense him slipping; too many missions. Too much bloodshed. It's soaked past clothes and skin, muscle and marrow. His soul, if he has one, must be drenched crimson.

He needs an anchor to keep him from floating adrift in this sea of blood.

He's found you. So precious. So delicate. He couldn't let himself be too rough with you; you'd break so easily. Oh, his hands itch to break you down piece by piece like his favorite gun. Gut you and clean you out, only to put you back together again with his own hands, his initials stamped into you.

There's no salvation for someone like him, but you're all the Paradise he needs.

And then you go and do such a stupid, silly thing.

You go on a date. Look like something he wants to stain in your clingy jeans and low-cut top. Hair done just so. He wants to see it sweaty and tangled after burying his fingers in it; his vision goes red at the thought of anyone else getting that honor.

But no... no. It's not your fault, really. You don't know any better. But you will. You will very, very soon.

Simon watches your date greet you outside, slip an arm around your waist like it belongs there. Like you belong to anyone but Simon. The only things that saves the man from a bloody end right there is that you gently extricate yourself to go inside.

He seethes on the sidewalk across the street, fingers twitching for his Ka-Bar. The images of his initials on your perfect skin is burned behind his eyelids, and afterimage superimposing itself over his vision.

It's time you knew who you belong to.

Your father always said you have a temper like the Devil. Didn’t understand what he meant as a sunshine six-year-old, giggling after butterflies and munching on cheese sticks. Your parents’ pride and joy, their first and only babygirl.

You understood later, though, standing at the broken window and watching a pool of blood spread and spread and spread….. like leaving a marker tip on the page too long.

You’re Old Testament wrathful, fire and brimstone, churning beneath a lake of oil and ink. Pitch black, iridescent rainbow on the surface, too thick to realize what roils beneath until one misstep breaks that molecular tension—

Rage will boil up in your stomach, scorch your chest. Burns acidic in your throat and stains your teeth on venom. You don’t drown in anger, you wade into it until you float.

Not to say that you’re an angry person. You’re not. Not much to bother being angry about, by your estimate. Disappointed, resigned, annoyed, exasperated - sure. But the raw fury that sharpens your teeth and claws? It’s an energy expenditure your mind hardly ever feels the need to spark.

But there are some things…

“C’mon don’t be a fucking prude.” He’s drunk. He’s drunk and pushy and you feel your ribs expand, expand, expand…

“You fuckin’ owe me something.”

You show a little too much canine as you reply. “Because you bought me a couple drinks I didn’t ask for?”

“Fuckin’ spoiled bitch. Wha’ else d’you want, huh? Fuckin’ money?”

He pushes you. Your shoulders bump the alley wall behind you. The sky is so so dark above, no clouds, no moon. Even next to trash, the stink of that awful whiskey burns your nose.

You think of broken windows and blooms of blood.

“Just fuckin’ get on your knees.”

“No.”

“The fuck do you jus’ - it wasn’t a fuckin’—”

“No.”

His face twists, ugly and red (not the right shade of red) puffing up like a particularly loud bird.

“C’mere, you little—“

It’s nothing, nothing at all. A sidestep and a full-body shove. Your timing is perfect. You didn’t touch your second drink when your nail polish turned black.

Your “date” however, is wobbly and uncoordinated, you lean forwards on the balls of your feet in anticipation. Watch him bounce off the brick, stumble over a couple overfilled bags, and crack his temple on the metal corner of the dumpster.

You tilt your head as he collapses in a pathetic heap, barely conscious. Make a point to roll him over onto his back. The last sky he’ll ever see with any luck. You lean your foot into his stomach, watch him turn pale and then green. He’s not going to be able to roll over before all that drink comes up.

Satisfied, you step back as you brush brick dust and dirt from your pants and sleeves. Movement at the head of the alley catches your attention, but by the time you look, the disturbance is gone. Likely someone just passing by. You don’t care if you're wrong.

Below you, the man - you never bothered to actually remember his name - gurgles and starts to rasp wetly. The fury ebbs, a tide dragging out with bloody foam at the edge. You let out a slow, satisfied sigh and navigate to the alley's entrance.

You've barely stepped from the shadows of the buildings when there's a sharp pinch in your neck. The world goes black in seconds.

#thoughts™️#cod #my writing #fanfiction #dark fic #reader fic #kidnapper ghost

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infoactionratio7 · 9 months

Text

call it fate, call it carmen - c. berzatto

summary: after carmy runs into a pretty stranger in a coffee shop that morning, he never thinks he will see her again... until she walks into his restaurant.

pairing: carmen berzatto x fem! teacher! reader

word count: 2,506

note: kinda set during season one when the bear is still the beef. no warnings really, some cursing, that's it! :)

read part two here! and part 3 here!

sunday morning -

The bells of the little cafe on West Erie St chimed as you glanced up from your book, you were waiting for your name to be called by the friendly barista who had just taken your order. You were new in town, and wanted to explore all the different things Chicago had to offer. A man walked into the shop, inhaling the sweet scent of freshly brewed coffee as he went up to the counter and read an order from his phone,

"Can I get a small iced dirty chai latte and a triple shot iced espresso to go? Please, thank you " His voice was soft, as he ran his hand through his messy curls.

He glanced over to where you were standing, bundled up in a winter coat, scarf, and hat (Chicago winters got cold fast). He gave you a once over, taking note of your book, 'Chicago: A Food Biography'. You seemed to be completely enthralled in the page you were reading, captivated by every word. He was not one to ever go up to a stranger, but he felt that he had to take a chance. The barista gave him his receipt and a small smile, telling him to wait over near the pickup counter.

"You ever been to Chicago before?" You look up, wide eyed, not expecting the man to be speaking to you.

"Oh," you exclaim, flustered. "Once or twice with my family when I was a kid, but not that I can really remember."

He smiles and glances at your book, you realize this was the reason he is asking you. It was a very touristy book to be reading. Especially because the cafe you were currently standing in, was highlighted in the book. You had made a list of all the places you wanted to visit that day before you had to arrive at the elementary school down the street to start your new job. "I love trying all the foods that are in the cities I visit, it's like an obligatory tradition when I move in to find places near my new apartment." You spit put your words, not even thinking that you are telling a random stranger in Chicago that you live near this cafe and just moved in. Blushing and looking down at your feet, you hear your name called from behind the counter, rushing to grab your drink and chocolate croissant before the conversation could get uncomfortable. You put the pastry in your bag and quickly wave at him.

"Have a good day, hope you find some nice restaurants" He waves back as you open the door and walk into the blistering wind that had taken over the streets that cold winter morning.

You arrived at your apartment building, it was not the nicest apartment you had ever stayed in but it was not the worst either. You walked up the stairs to your door and unlocked it with the hand that was not holding the coffee you just purchased. Rushing into the apartment, you put all of your things on the kitchen table and just took a breath of the cozy air of the room. As you stood there and took off your winter layers, you could not help but think of the man who had approached you in the cafe, realizing how attractive he was, his tattooed hands running through his hair, and biceps anyone could see just from glancing at his bundled up figure. You took a sip from your coffee, thinking how could he get two iced drinks in the middle of winter was beyond you.

You went into your room to grab some of your papers from the desk you had just built from Ikea the night before. You had to do some lesson plans before you did anything else, you had not even started any for that week. It was sunday and all you could think of was when you were in high school, and using your sundays to finish all the work you had neglected to do the week before.

Deciding to just get your work done you opened the package with the croissant, and took a bite. Tasting the buttery and chocolatey pastry seemed to bring a jolt to your brain and body, motivating you to get started.

Carmen could not stop thinking about you, he had wished he had formally introduced himself and told her that he was in fact, the owner of a restaurant that was a block away and it would be great if she wanted to visit and try something to commemorate her moving into the city. But no he just waved and let her go, watching her leave into the bitter cold.

"Jeff, you need to focus, you almost cut your finger off," Tina pulled him out of his thoughts with her concerned tone. "What's going on Carmen, you gotta be more careful than that, take a break if you need one."

"Fuck, sorry Chef, sorry" He put the knife down and put the carrots he had finished cutting into the giardiniera container for service later that night.

"You seem more distracted than usual, I can finish the cutting, just go to the office to cool off." Tina glanced over at him as he nodded, cleaning off his knife and putting it away. Right as he walked away, Richie walked into the kitchen.

"Cousi- Where is he going Tina?" He looked from Carmy to his empty station next to Tina, still chopping vegetables.

"He's distracted or something, just let him be Richie, don't bother the poor kid," She turned around to go into the walk-in, grabbing more fresh veggies to prepare for service later. Richie, as he does, ignores Tina completely, beelining to the office, where Carmy is running his hand down his face and pacing around like a madman.

"Cousin, what's your deal? You look like you're goin' fuckin crazy" He grilled, leaning on the door. Carmy shot him a glare, sitting down in the swivel chair that squeaked every time he actually tried to swivel in it.

" There isn't a fucking problem Richie, leave me alone." Carmy pushed himself into the desk so he could look at some paperwork he had been putting off for the past week. "I gotta finish this paperwork."

Richie raised his eyebrows, looking down at the younger man, he wasn't going to push Carmy any further, because the whole kitchen knew what would happen if the chef got mad before a service.

"Fine cousin, just don't take that shit out on the rest of the kitchen." He walked out of the office dorway as the rest of the kitchen crew started to file in to prepare for dinner service.

Carmy blankly stared at his paperwork, thinking about the interaction at the cafe this morning he just couldn't stop thinking about.

sunday night -

You walked down the stairs to your apartment complex, having finished your lesson plans just in time for dinner. Before you left, you had read of a few classic dinner joints in the neighborhood, one of them was called 'The Beef', known for their italian beef sandwiches and spaghetti with meatballs. After looking at some reviews online, you decided that it was necessary to visit this local staple. The reviews talking about how some days it was as calm as anything in the restaurant, but others the employees were screaming at eachother while getting the orders out.

You approached the building, right next to a big parking lot where many people were just standing around with sandwiches. Someone pushed the door open, smells and noise leaked out of the warm dining room. You could hear the screams from in the kitchen,

"We are down five italian beef, sweet and hot dipped, two ravioli, and one spaghetti meatball, Lets go Chefs" A tall man yelled into the kitchen.

The swinging door to the kitchen opened and a woman with a blue apron and white chef's coat replied "We are only down all those things because YOU never fired them Richie, why the fuck are you not firing the orders?"

"Calm down Chefs, just fire the orders, we can catch up if you both shut up and work, okay?" A voice you had heard before cut between the two arguing, they both got quite and looked at the man who had just exited the kitchen with five sandwiches in his hands. They nodded and went back to their respective tasks, "Okay, thank you chefs. I have 5 italian beef, sweet and hot dipped for Chelsea."

You were looking at all options on the menu and had not noticed the man calling out the order was someone you had met before. Carmy scanned the room, trying to find the woman who had ordered the five sandwiches he was about to drop. His eyes stopped on a familiar figure, the same he had been distracted thinking about all day. He didn't even notice when a woman came up asking for her order, scrambling to put the sandwiches in a to go bag and giving it to the woman.

"Excuse me, you're next sweetheart, What'll you have?" A rough voice pulled you out of your focus on the menu as you stepped up to the register. You looked up at the tall man who was smiling down at you like he had never seen a woman before, when he was pushed aside and a familiar face entered your field if vision.

"Cousin what the fuc-"

A woman's threatening voice came out of the kitchen "Richie I swear to god if you don't shut up, I'm going to stab you again."

He stalked into the kitchen, mumbling something about how unappreciated he was in this restaurant. You brought your focus back to the man standing in front of you, beet red as he watched the taller man walk into the kitchen. He turned back to face you and awkwardly smiled,

"Nice to see you again, what'll you be having today?"

You scanned the menu one more time and decided to have a little fun with the man, "Can you surprise me?, I heard that this restaurant is pretty big with the locals."

He looked at you with a pointed look, "Okay," he softly said your name, "What do you want?" After a long pause he wrote down the order, then looked back up at you with his foggy blue eyes. You were flattered he had remembered your name, did he really care that much about a stranger he had spoken to for less than two minutes earlier that morning? You didn't even know his name, but his warm gaze softened you like butter.

"It's on the house okay, I promise it'll be the best meal you've had in the city since you moved here. Be ready in 10 minutes" You were quick to reply,

"No, I can't let you do that, how muc-" He cut you off,

"This one time, I'll cover it, and if you like it, next time I'll let you pay, deal?" He held out his tattooed hand for you to shake,

"Fine..." You smiled, slipping your hand into his rough palm, he shook your hand firmly, then letting it go, gestured for you to wait at one of the tables near the door. You smiled and walked over to the table sitting down. He walked into the kitchen and you could hear his faint yells through the wall, telling the kitchen your order.

"God damn Cousin, you just took my job for no reason what's your problem?" The tall man, who you remembered was named Richie stalked back out of the kitchen to get to the line that had formed. You realized you hadn't even asked the name of the man who had just offered you a free dinner. Richie stopped in his tracks when he saw you, realizing that this might have been the reason his boss had been distracted all day. Thinking about the pretty girl that he had met, and clearly liked her enough to give her a free dinner. He laughed to himself, taking a mental note to make fun of Carmy after service for getting distracted because of a girl.

The blue eyed chef burst out of the kitchen door with a to go bag, and made his way to the table you were sitting, waiting for the food. He placed the bag in front of you as you looked up to meet his eyes,

"So what are you serving me chef?" You tease, "Well that it a surprise you will just have to wait to find out" He grins as you stand up to meet his height.

"Well thank you..."

"Carmen, Carmen Berzatto"

"Thank you Carmen, I'm sure I will enjoy this, and if I don't, I'm afraid I'll have to come back and try something new." Placing your hand on his shoulder and squeezing lightly as you started walking toward the door. "I'll see you Carmen"

You turn around and start walking out of the door when you hear a yell from Richie, "Cousin has got a little sweetheart don't you"

"RICHIE I swear to God-" The door closed behind you before you could hear what the woman who just barged out of the kitchen had to say to the pompous cashier.

You silently laughed as you walked through the street, it was around the time for sunset and the sky had turned a beautiful blend of orange and purple. You reached your apartment in around ten minutes, getting out of the cold and eager to see what Carmen had packed you for dinner.

Putting the bag of food onto your coffee table, you grabbed a plate from the kitchen and started to unpack the meal. The first thing you pulled out was an italian beef, 'sweet + dipped' written on the side, then you pulled out a small side of fries, and lastly there was a plastic container of spaghetti and meatballs, with a piece of chocolate cake. You unpacked everything in front of you and the scent of the food engulfed you. It was a heavenly smell, so you dug in.

When you finished all you could possibly eat you noticed something at the bottom of the bag. A small piece of lined paper, that looked like it was ripped out of a notebook, it said your name on one side in messy handwriting and on the other it had a phone number and more of the messy chicken scratch,

hope you like dinner, would love to show you around the city sometime. call me x

carmy

You immediately opened your phone, putting his number into your contacts, then opening your message app to send him a text.

to: carmen

loved dinner, too bad i won't have to come back and get something else. i guess you'll have to show me around to see if any spots can top this one. let me know when you're free ♡

#the bear #carmen berzatto #carmy berzatto #carmy berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto x you #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x you #the bear fx #x reader #female reader #x you #the bear hulu #jeremy allen white #jeremy allen white x reader #the bear season 1 #the bear season 2

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theemporium · 1 year

Note

For the marauder’s smut: something with cocky full moon Remus with Sirius and James watching it? 👀

thank you for requesting!🖤

You weren’t quite sure how you got into this situation.

The relationship between you and Remus Lupin wasn’t something you ever expected to find yourself in. It was weird, really. You weren’t really friends and you didn’t really cross paths all that much until one party where one thing led to another and you had the boy in your bed the next morning.

You expected it to stay a one time thing until a routine began to form between the two of you, just a little something to let the steam off. You got closer to Remus during the months, you telling him your secrets and him sharing some of his own. It was the only reason you knew that as the full moon approached, he would get rougher and you fucking loved it.

You revelled in the way he would have his way with you, manhandling you as he pressed you into the mattress as he fucked you from behind. The way his hands would bruise your hips, the way your ass would sting from his sharp smacks, the way your head would spin with orgasm after orgasm as the boy made it very clear you were his.

You knew everything was heightened when the full moon came around, and his jealousy was no different. You were exclusive fuck buddies and nothing more, but that didn’t stop Remus from practically growling at anyone who stared at you for too long. There was no talking sense into Remus when he was in one of his moods, it was something you realised pretty quickly.

And it was one of those moods that had led to this scene right now, Remus leaning back on his headboard as you bounced up and down on his cock, two sets of eyes watching every fuckin movement.

“Now now, love, don’t get shy now. I thought you wanted to show the boys how good you were for me.”

You let out a pathetic whine, your back pressed against his chest as your thighs burned. It was too much. Far too much for you to deal with. The feeling of him deep inside you, the watchful and heated gazes of his two best friends, the way your body was begging to come. It was all too much.

“Remus,” you choked out, his hands gripping your waist as he lifted you before sinking you back down on his cock. “Please.”

“Please what?” he grunted, the sound of skin slapping against skin echoing through the room. “You wanna come? You wanna show Prongs and Pads what a good fucking girl you are and come on my cock?”

You nodded, the words trapped in your throat.

“Put the poor girl out of her misery,” James' voice was rough, his hand resting on the bulge in his slacks.

“Let the dumb slut come,” Sirius chimed in, leaning back on his bed as he watched your tits bounce with each thrust.

“You hear that, baby,” Remus growled in your ear, the gruff and husky voice enough to make your walls clench around his cock. “They wanna see what your pretty face looks like when you come.”

“Please, please, please,” you chanted breathlessly, your head falling back against his shoulder as his hand smacked against your thigh.

“Gonna make you come, baby,” he groaned, his teeth scraping against the skin of your neck. “Then I’m gonna make you clean up the mess you made, show the boys what a pretty lil’ whore you look like with my cock in your mouth, hm? How do you like the sound of that?”

You could only moan in response, nails digging into his arms as he rammed into you.

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milaisreading · 10 days

Text

Wedding day

Pairing: Itoshi Sae x Isagi's sister!Reader

Warnings: Reader uses she/her. Requests are open

⚽️Blue lock belongs to Muneyuki Kaneshiro and Yusuke Nomura⚽️

"Can you please calm down, sis? Everything will be fine." Yoichi said as he walked around the room after his sister. The older Isagi was panicking a little as she thought more and more about the whole wedding that was supposed to happen in an hour.

"You think?! Yoichi, what if I am not good enough? Sae is a literal football star and I am just-"

"The best sister and future wife. Exactly!" Yoichi quickly chimed in, annoyed that she had let the recent gossip on the internet get to her. While he did have sympathy for her, marrying a high profiled person lime Sae Itoshi wasn't nothing, he was also mad that she was doubting her own worth.

"Yoichi... You of all people know how the news are. They will nitpick on the most smallest things about me." (Y/n) sighed as she went over to sit on a chair in the room, Yoichi following close behind.

"What if they are right about me not being the one for Sae?"

"That's ridiculous! He loves you!" Yoichi argued again, but he knew it was useless. He wasn't Sae. The one whose opinion mattered the most right now.

"I don't know... What if I am just hindering him? There are so many better options than I am. Did you see all those models from Madrid who talk about him? What if I am not the one?"

(Y/n) held back a few sobs as Yoichi went to comfort her. He would be lying if he said he didn't expect the news to make such a huge deal out of the wedding. He did. But, seeing the state his sister was in just broke Yoichi. She didn't deserve all this stress now. Nor did Sae deserve to be doubted.

And, while Yoichi was comforting (Y/n), he didn't notice Rin peek into the room and catching some of the conversation the were having, and catching the distressed state (Y/n) was in.

'Shit!' The younger Itoshi thought as he slowly closed the door. He didn't expect to walk into all of that. While Sae was on cloud nine in his room, (Y/n) was over here distressed over some gossip.

'Wait? What gossip? Big brother never mentioned anything about that.' Rin wondered as he took his phone out to search for anything that remotely could mention either Sae or the wedding.

Meanwhile...

Sae was happily drinking the water Rin brought him earlier. The older Itoshi never expected to be excited over anything like a wedding. Well, he never saw himself marry anyone until he met (Y/n). The love of his life.

'Ahhh~ I am all excited for our future. I can't wait for us to finally tie the knot. Maybe even a few kids down the line, but that can wait for another few years. For now, I just want to enjoy my time alone with her.' Sae smiled softly and blushed, not hearing the footsteps approaching his room.

'My sweet (Y/n). She is so clumsy and cute. So adorable and always kind to me and others. I am so lucky to have found-'

"Big brother!"

Sae snapped out of his thoughts and looked over at the door as Rin walked in, looking oddly nervous.

"What's up with you? You are more nervous than I am." Sae joked but Rin ignored him as he kept on glancing between his phone and the older.

"Well..."

"Anyway, how is (Y/n) doing? How does she look? Bet as stunning as ever. She is so adorable."

Sae went on a ramble and Rin knew he had to cut it out now before he went into an endless loop with it.

"I... There is something you need to see, and I think you won't like it."

Sae stopped and raised an eyebrow at Rin.

"What do you mean?"

"It's about (Y/n). You didn't read any of the news some of the Spanish and Japanese media reported?"

"No. Why would I? They mostly say dumb stuff, anyway."

"It might be dumb, but the stuff nearly has (Y/n) crying right now."

Sae froze up for a moment and quickly took the phone away from Rin.

The younger Itoshi was used to seeing a lot of emotions on Sae, but anger, genuine anger was not one of them. The more Sae read through the articles Rin had found, the redder his face became and the more his eyebrows furrowed.

'I would pray for the reporters, but they deserve whatever happens next.' Rin thought as an eerie silence took over.

----

Once Yoichi had left the room to let his sister cool down, (Y/n) had finally realized how ridiculous it was that she was crying about these things. After all, if Sae really didn't want her, he wouldn't have asked to marry her. Right?

'I need to have more faith in him, and also be less sensitive.' She thought as she put down her phone, not noticing Sae walk inside.

"Why didn't you tell me about those articles?"

(Y/n) yelped , and turned around to see Sae walk into the room and towards her.

"Sae! You shouldn't see me before-"

"I don't care. Rin said you were distressed over what those journalists were saying. Why didn't you tell me about it?"

For the first time since they started their relationship, (Y/n) was left speechless by the anger Sae was radiating. Sure, she was used to him being angry over what Shidou would say at times, or even when he would lose a game. But, this was a different type of anger. It was more genuine than the previous ones.

"Why?" Sae's voice got softer as he grapped her hands into his, causing (Y/n) to turn red a little.

"I thought it was stupid to bother you with that. It's just me being sensitive-"

"It's not. The stuff those idiots said about you is disgusting, and I will put an end to it on my next interview." (Y/n) raised an eyebrow as Sae pulled her in closer.

"I thought you don't have one yet."

"I asked my manager the schedule me one after our honeymoon. As much as I hate going on these, this is a different circumstance."

"Oh? Thank you." (Y/n) said as she grew flustered, causing Sae to finally smile again and chuckle a little.

"Don't thank me for stuff like this. And, have a little more faith in me. I have my eyes only set on you."

"You are right, I an sorry. I know you do."

She smiled as the door opened again, revealing Sae and (Y/n)'s moms.

"Sar Itoshi! What did I say about seeing (Y/n) before the wedding?! And why did you make Rin guard the entrance?" Sae flinched at his mom's yelling as Rin could be heard apologizing to him from behind her. (Y/n) laughed a little as her mom tried to calm the other woman down, finding the whole situation equally amusing.

"Well, today is an eventful day." (Y/n) laughed, and Sae smiled at her.

'At least you calmed down.'

#bllk #blue lock anime #blue lock manga #blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #blue lock scenarios #blue lock #isagi's sister #itoshi sae #blue lock sae #bllk sae #itoshi sae x reader #itoshi sae x y/n

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adascore · 4 months

Text

CAPTAIN OBVIOUS

pairings: lionesses x lioness!reader

warnings: sarina scaring the hell out of us. fluff.

author’s note: I know this isn’t how captaincy is announced, but all of this is fictional anyway so it doesn’t even matter :)

masterlist

•••••

''Is everyone in?'' Sarina asked, scanning the room to ensure the complete attendance of the squad and necessary staff.

A few heads nodded at the manager. ''Good.'' The Dutchwoman concluded.

''Before we talk about the upcoming game against North Macedonia, I would like to say something else.'' Sarina began the team meeting, her gaze lingering on Y/N.

The player curiously turned her head to Mary, who was sitting next to her. The goalkeeper merely shrugged in response.

''I didn't want to do it like this, but I think this is the only way to get my message across… Y/N, can you please come stand next to me?'' Sarina's invitation sounded more like a demand, leaving the striker slightly confused at the stern tone.

Y/N hesitated for a moment but stood up, making her way to the front of the room as requested by Sarina.

Glancing at her teammates, she found it challenging to read their expressions. Some were nervously biting their nails, while others were avoiding eye contact altogether.

Strange, the striker thought.

Sarina maintained her serious tone, making Y/N's heart race with anticipation. ''We have noticed some issues lately…'' The room fell silent, everyone's eyes fixed on the player, who was growing more bewildered and scared by the second. She tried to recall any recent incidents that might have triggered this discussion.

''The communication on the pitch, the communication off the pitch, the passes, the attacks… it is all anyone has been talking about on this team.'' The coach's vague explanation was making her worried, because it implied people had been speaking about her to Sarina.

''It forced us to reassess your position in this team.'' The Dutchwoman continued, maintaining her stoic stone.

It was a difficult task to make the Lyon captain nervous, but Sarina was doing an amazing job so far. ''My… position… on the team?'' Y/N spoke slowly, not quite knowing what to make of all of this.

''Yes, we're sorry to tell you this,'' she turned towards Arjan, their assistant coach, who handed her something the player wasn't able to see, ''but you are our new, official captain.'' Sarina's expression did a complete 180, a big grin on her face.

The room erupted into cheers, her teammates bursting out laughing at the player staring at their coach in stunned disbelief.

''Wait, what?'' Y/N mumbled as Sarina handed her the captain's band.

''Did you really think I was going to kick you off the team?'' The older woman exclaimed, surprised her player actually fell for it.

Y/N awkwardly chuckled. ''I mean- you sounded super serious! You should become an actress or something.''

''Congratulations, captain!'' Her team engulfed her in a group hug, feeling pats all over her head.

''I was wondering why none of you were looking at me.'' The newly appointed captain said, everything making sense now.

''I was having such a hard time,'' Ella sighed, before glancing over at Mary, ''you were awful!''

''What? Tooney!'' The goalkeeper exclaimed, clearly offended.

Alessia chimed in. ''You kept hiding your face cause you couldn't contain your smile.''

''I'm just happy for my friend!'' Mary defended herself, trapping Y/N in her arms.

Some of the girls made ‘Awh'-noises, dramatically swooning over the striker-goalkeeper duo.

''Took you long enough to figure it out.'' Mary teased, a mischievous grin playing on her lips.

Y/N scoffed, slightly offended. ''How was I supposed to know?''

''I'm roomies with the captain.'' Alex proudly stated, her eyes sparkled with pride as she side hugged her roommate.

''That's not fair! Alex already has an advantage over everyone!'' Georgia interjected, loudly.

Y/N frowned. ''I've been captain for like 2 seconds, what are you talking about, G?'' She chuckled, befuddled by everyone's enthusiasm.

''You'll understand what I mean when she's suddenly being a lot nicer to you.'' Georgia explained, making wary eyes at the blond defender.

Lucy approached her and grabbed the captain's band from her hand. ''Come on, put it on.'' She held it open for her so Y/N could easily slide her arm through.

As soon as it was tightly attached to her arm, the entire room broke into cheers again.

''You wear it well, Skipper.'' Lucy teased with a playful grin.

She felt someone hugging her from behind. ''Congratulations, darling.''

''Thanks, Jill.'' The new captain smiled, glad her older teammate was happy for her.

Girls like Jill, Ellen, Alex, Lucy and Jordan had been there since she first joined the England team- it was a special moment for them as well to see their younger teammate take over the reins of the team.

''Congrats, sweetheart. You deserve this so much.'' Ellen embraced her, her fellow striker grinning from ear to ear.

''Thanks, El.''

''Speech! Speech! Speech!'' A couple of the girls (Ella, Georgia, Keira and Leah, to be specific) started chanting.

Y/N chuckled at the impromptu request for a speech, feeling the weight of the moment. She raised her hands, signaling for a moment of quiet amidst the cheers.

''Okay, okay!'' She began, a genuine smile on her lips. ''First of all, I want to thank Sarina, and whoever decided this, for giving me this huge honour, and for trusting me to lead this incredible team. I know to some people it's just a band, but I do feel a responsibility to lead by example and for me this means so much more.''

She paused, letting her words sink in. ''I joined this team when I was 18 years-old, and I've experienced so much already. I just want to thank all of you, and also the teammates that aren't here today, for making this such a beautiful group of people and for making this genuinely fun to do. I'm lucky to have you guys as my teammates.''

Her gaze swept across the faces of her teammates, feeling herself getting emotional. ''I will continue to do my best. This isn't just about me, it's about all of us. We're here to support one another and to enjoy all of this together.''

''I'm looking forward to the rest of the year, and it might be to early to say this, but fuck it,'' she chuckled, resulting in laughter from the entire room, ''this summer is ours!''

The meeting room echoed with applause, and somehow she ended up in the middle of a group hug.

Sarina and Arjan watched on as their team celebrated together, content smiled on their faces.

''This is the team.'' He told his boss, a confident tone.

The Dutchwoman nodded. ''This is the team.''

#woso x reader #woso fanfics #woso imagine #engwnt #lionesses x reader #engwnt x reader

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wosoamazing · 3 months

Text

Sick

Summary: You get sick at training and no one can get a hold of Leah

Warnings: Sick, angst??, IDK

A/N: decided to give you all another fic. I hope you like this one, I don't know how good it is.... also please do send requests in, I want to make sure I'm writing things people will enjoy.

Training today just felt harder than usual, yes you had off days, but something was different, it wasn’t just that you weren’t playing as well, you were hotter, you were running out of breath quicker than usual, you head hurt slightly. Everyone around you noticed but didn’t want to say anything, your teenage hormones were at their peak currently, as Leah put it and you were quick to snap at anyone for no real reason. You stayed quite about it though and just tried to push through, that was until you felt like you were going to pass out and you decided you should probably sit down. So, you went up to Jonas.

“Y/N, how can I help you?”

“Umm, I’m just feeling a little hot, was just wondering if I could sit down for a bit,” “yeah sure why don’t you go inside to the dining room and sit down there, it will be cooler in there than out here, lunch is only 25 or so away anyway,” “Thanks Jonas,” you said, and you turned around, probably a little too fast as everything spun, you stumbled a little and shut your eyes, hoping that no one noticed you continued to make your way into the dining room and sat on one of the chairs, everything was still slightly spinning but it wasn’t too bad. Just as you were about to rest your head on the table you heard footsteps which grew louder, until they stopped, and Katie was standing next to you.

“Hey,” you mumbled.

“Hey, Jonas sent me in here to check on you. You okay?”

“No, I feel like crap” you replied. It was the truth. In an effort to feel better, you shut your eyes and rested your head on the table, it was cool to touch, Katie put her hand on the back of your neck, and she winced at the heat that was radiating off you.

“I think you need to go see a medic.”

“No, I’m fine.” you snapped.

“Okay, well I’ll leave you to it then,” she stood up starting to walk out.

“Katie,” you softly cried out, she looked back at you “can you stay?”

“Only if you let me get a medic to look at you,” she tried compromising.

“Fine.” You sighed. Katie messaged someone on her phone and a few minutes later one of the medics came in. “38.7, not too bad, get her to take two of these and try and see if you can get her sister to take her home, if she is still here in about 45 minutes, we will come check on her again. Also get her to drink the rest of that and another one at least” The medic said to Katie pointing at your water bottle, Katie nodded. “Oh, and have one of these,” Katie screwed her face up at the sight of the emesis bag she really couldn’t handle that type of sick, “look she shouldn’t need it but it’s better to be safe than sorry.” Katie nodded agreeing with that statement. She got you to take two Panadol and to drink some water before you fell asleep. She did wake you every ten minutes to drink some more water however you didn’t really remember that.

“Hey, can you sit up for just a sec,” you look up to see the medic, she takes your temperature and checks your breathing. “39.1” the medic and Katie look at each other you place your head back on the table, and whimper slightly at the movement of your head, however the table felt nice on your head as it was cool.

“Where the fuck is Leah! Why isn’t she answering her phone,” Katie yelled becoming more furious with Leah by the second.

“Why don’t you just take her home?” Kim asked.

“Because Leah is a genius. Who doesn’t give their 16-year-old sister a key? and she refuses to let me take her to mine.” Katie replies

“You could call Sarina,” you decided to chime in.

“What’s her number though?” “Give it here,” you put Sarina’s number into Katies phone, Katie quickly pressed the call button and to her amusement Sarina picked up.

“Hi Sarina, its Katie McCabe, I am really sorry to be calling but we have Y/F/N here and she isn’t feeling well at all, and we have been trying to get a hold of Leah for 45 minutes but she won’t answer, and we understand she is doing important media duties however Y/N does have a temperature of 39.1C, and we think it would be best if she went home.” There was a pause, Sarina must’ve been talking “Okay, thank you so much, so sorry again. Bye”

“She’s coming,” everyone let out a sigh of relief, they hated seeing you so sick and helpless knowing that Leah was the one thing that might make you feel better.

“Leah?” you questioned, starting to cry.

“Yeah, she’s coming, like 10 minutes,” Katie said as she started to rub your back, you placed your head back on the table and continued to cry, you just felt so sick and wanted your sister.

“Hey, I’m here.” Leah said as she rounded the corner, her heart melting at the scene in front of her. You were still crying head on the table, Katie was still rubbing your back looking like she might cry at any moment, she just wanted to help, and she couldn’t.

“Oh, bug.” Leah cooed at the sight, and she continued towards you, you lifted you head up tears still falling. She kneeled down beside you and put her hand on your forehead, she winced and looked at Katie, “39.1 last we checked.”

“Bug, I’m so sorry I didn’t come sooner.” She said, ready to cry herself.

“Can we go home?” you whimpered, as she pulled you in for a hug, she noticed the slight dampness of your skin.

“Let me go talk to the medic first,” she said as she stood up.

“I’ll go get her stuff for you,” Lia said as she went to the locker room. The girls remaining all looked at each other, you couldn’t resist a smirk.

“Why do you have two bags Lia?” your sister questioned.

“Le, don’t do this, I’ve spoken to Jonas, and he agrees that you’re going to need help, come on I’ll drive you home.” She replied.

“Carry me?” you whined looking at your sister who sighed before picking you up and taking you home, the girls all made eyes at each other as the three of you walked out.

_______

“Le, I’m back” Lia said as she walked through the door. “We’re still in here.” Leah replied, she was sitting up against the head board of her bed, you had your head in her lap and your body laid parallel to the headboard, your training top was on the end of the bed and you were just in your crop top and training shorts, Leah had taken your shirt off in hopes of cooling you down, your sweaty body was making the sheets slightly damp, as she rain her fingers through your hair.

“Hey” Lia said softly as she walked into the room, carrying the bag of items she bought to help you. “What you got in there” Leah asked looking at the quite full bag.

“Just the essentials,” Lia pulled out some medicine first, then some hydrolyte, followed by a thermometer “I guessed you didn’t have one of these,” she pulled some more items out “Oh and I got some of these,” Leah’s brow furrowed at the sight of the emesis bags, “they might come in handy one day” Lia said as she shrugged.

“Thank you, Lia for everything not just for today” your sister replied.

“It’s no problem, how is she?”

“I don’t really know, she never gets sick it’s been years, I’m just really worried. Should we check her temperature again?” with of nod of Lia’s head they pulled the thermometer out of its packing and checked your temperature. “Shit,” Lia’s brow furrowed “39.5, what do we do Li, do we take her to the hospital, the doctor?” Leah said heartbroken a tear rolling down her check.

“She hasn’t had any medicine yet has she?” Lia questioned.

“I think they gave her some Panadol at the colony but other than that no”

“Okay well we’ll give her some ibuprofen, and help her take a lukewarm bath, and if her temperature hasn’t gone down or if it goes up after 30 minutes, we can take her to the hospital, how does that sound?” Leah just nodded agreeing with Lia, she just wanted to help you but in this moment she felt helpless. “You give her the medicine and I’ll start the bath”.

“Bug, can you wake up for me?” Leah said softly shaking you. You sat up, leaning against the headboard, resting you head on the wall.

“Here can you take this, it will help you feel better,” Leah said handing you two tablets and your water bottle, you took them and then went to lay back down on Leah, but she stopped you, as the bath was now ready.

“Bug we’re going to put you in the bath for a little while,” you groan at Leah’s words, she helps you up and places you in the bath still clothed. She let you sit there while she went to get the pair of you new clothes, nothing fancy of course, just some PJs. After your bath Leah helped you get changed before carrying you back to the bedroom.

“Oh, you didn’t have to Lia,” she said noticing Lia was just finishing off changing the sheets on the bed.

“Don’t worry about it, it’s all good, here have this” she said as she placed a pillow down for you and Leah. You laid between the two girls with your head resting on Leah’s arm, they rechecked your temperature and it was now back to 39.1, they weren’t super happy with it but happy enough not to take you to the hospital, you spent the next four days in bed sick, Leah and Lia both trying to help you get better.

#woso x reader #woso community #arsenal wfc #woso #woso fanfics #katie mccabe #leah williamson #lia walti #woso imagine

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oracle-of-dream · 4 months

Text

Him or Me

Minors DNI

Summary: You've been put together for a group project with Heeseung, another one of Jake's friends. Jake is sure Heeseung is plotting to take you away from him, so Jake has to make sure you know where you belong... Notes: Male reader, handjob (Jake rec.), cum swallowing, Jealous Jake, Teasing Heeseung

Wordcount: 1.9k

This is a request!

The clock was five minutes away from ending class, ticking loudly as it echoed in the silent class. It was another exam for you to do, which you finished almost thirty minutes ago but you had to wait till the end of class for an announcement from your professor.

Next to you, your boyfriend, Jake, was struggling through the last part of the exam. It was a free response, so you knew he’d take a while before deciding to write.

“You might want to write something soon, you’re running out of time,” you whisper to him.

He glared at you knowingly, not trying to get in trouble for talking too loudly.

You played on your phone until the last second of the exam when the alarm went off. The student assistants collected all the papers, Jake was still scribbling the last of his answers before they had to take it from him. Once all the exams were collected, the professor explained our next major assignment. A small interview with another person in the class to understand unique points of view when put in new situations.

Jake beamed with excitement at hearing an easy grade. A simple Q&A with his boyfriend to boost his grades was just what he needed after the exam. But Jake shrank back into his seat when the professor announced they’d already been assigned partners by a personality quiz they’d given on the first day.

“Each of you has been matched with someone you may potentially click with because of your similar personalities. Or, you could be purposefully put with someone who strongly opposes your beliefs too. Make sure to keep things civil and respectful. That’s all.” The professor sent out the email of who’s been put with whom and left the class before anyone could protest about their partners.

Jake searched the list for his name but he found yours first. “Oh! Babe, you’re with…”

You noticed Jake stopped talking. “What is it?”

Jake’s expression darkened with irritation. “It’s… him.”

“Him, who?”

“Him, me, I’m guessing. Right, Jake?” A familiar voice sounded cheerfully behind you.

You looked over your shoulder to see Heeseung standing there. Heeseung had a weird love-hate relationship with Jake. On some things, they’d be the best of friends over. On other topics, it would be impossible to think they’d ever get along.

Heeseung looked you up and down. “Hey, y/n. It’s good to see you,” he winked.

Jake let out a huff of air before packing the rest of his things.

“Oh? Jake, don’t be like that.” Heeseung swung his arm over your shoulder, leaning on you. “It’s not like we’re going to do anything bad, it’s just a project!” He giggled with joy at messing with Jake.

You honestly loved seeing Jake get jealous. Heeseung had a naturally flirty nature to him, so Jake was always on guard with him when it came to you. But he was still your boyfriend, so you had to support Jake, even if he was hard-headed.

“Jake, why don’t we interview at your place? You can sit with us and be there the whole time.” You shrugged off Heeseung’s arm and hugged Jake’s back. “Please?”

Jake took a moment to consider it. And Heeseung chimed in.

“Unless you want him to be at my place?” He smiled devilishly, trying to goad Jake into talking.

Jake took the bait without hesitation. “No! Both of you will meet me at my place.” He turned to you, “You’ll be there an hour before he gets there.” Then turned to Heeseung, “and you’ll leave as soon as you’re done.” Jake huffed again as he took your hand and pulled you along with him out of the classroom as Heeseung let the two of you walk by.

“It’s always a good time talking to you Jake!” He shouted as Jake stormed down the hallway.

Getting to Jake’s house, he was quiet the whole ride over. Jake loved talking to you, even if it was about nothing, he loved getting to hear you speak to him. But you couldn’t think of anything to say while you knew he was in his head, he wouldn’t even hear you anyway

Jake parked at his place, got out of the car, and opened your door for you. Even when angry, Jake could never forget his manners. He unlocked the front door, let you walk in first, and then started making a snack for the two of you.

It was still bothering him, but he was trying to act like it wasn’t.

“Jake. Please talk to me, babe.” You begged.

“What do you wanna talk about?”

“Anything, I just want to hear you.”

“Do you like Heeseung?”

You knew he was going to throw that at you. “No. I don’t. And you know I don’t like it when you imply that I’d leave you for him like that.”

Jake looked at you with wet eyes. “I know… He just gets under my skin without even trying! It’s just so–”

The doorbell rang.

You both looked at each other before he walked to the door to answer it. You followed him to see who was there. Jake opened the door to see Heeseung standing outside.

“What the hell? What are you doing here so early? We just got home.”

Heeseung shrugged. Y/n shares their location with me, so I figured I’d just come over now so we can get to work sooner. Then maybe we could go get some dinner later.

Jake cocked his head to the side and looked at you with a glare.

“Jake, we’re friends. Friends share their locations. Heeseung even has your location.” You complained.

Jake turned his attention to Heeseung again. “He’s not going anywhere with you.”

“I meant, we all go out to dinner,” Heeseung said dryly.

“Whatever, just come in and do the friggin thingy already,” Jake said as he walked away from the door and back into the kitchen.

You let Heesung in and closed the door behind him. You set up an audio recording on your phone and started asking him some of the interview questions you were assigned. Jake stood in the doorway, watching the two of you like a hawk.

Jake eventually started squirming and shuffling. Then sighing loudly. Even tapping his foot. All signs that Jake was ready for Heeseung to wrap it up, but it was ruining your audio recording.

Heeseung must’ve noticed that you were getting irritated because he asked for a quick break. He pushed his chair away from the table and leaned back in it, manspreading widely. “Jakey, why don’t you come sit with us? You can sit on my lap while I answer the questions since you’re going to be a baby about it. Does the baby need to sit on my lap?” Heeseung teased.

Jake made a face and sat down in a chair next to you, dragging it on the floor to make a bunch of noise. He gently took your hand and kissed the back of it before letting you continue with the interview, but he didn’t let go of your hand. Every few answers, you could see Jake roll his eyes or make a face at Heeseung. Eventually, it was getting to be too much of a distraction for Heeseung, as he was starting to tease Jake back.

“Okay, how about we have a bit longer of a break? I gotta talk to Jake for a few.” You pushed Jake out of his seat and made him go into your shared bedroom. You closed and locked the door behind you.

“Jesus, Jake! What am I going to do with you?” You fussed.

“I–” Jake started but stopped himself from giving an excuse. “I’m sorry, I’m not trying to get in the way. He’s just so… him.”

“What makes you think he has something that I’m looking for in a boyfriend that you don’t already have? You have everything I could want.” You stroke his cheek as you come close to him for a soft kiss on his lips.

Jake wrapped his arms around you. He slipped his tongue into the kiss and you gasped as he picked you up. He carried you to the bed and sat down on the bed, letting you rest on his lap. He placed soft kisses on your collarbone before giving bites on your flesh, moving up your neck to your ears. His hands spread your legs and wrapped them around his waist. He started playing with your thighs, slowly crawling up until he got to the waistline of your pants.

You stop him. “Heeseung’s still here, if we do that he’ll hear us.”

Jake frowned. “Does he even matter right now? It’s our time.”

You kissed him again. “We can have that kind of fun tonight, okay? After dinner.” You tried to climb off of Jake, but he wouldn’t let you go.

“You can’t leave me like this…” He looks down at the tent in his pants. “It hurts so bad, I need you.”

“My poor baby,” you cooed at him as your hand rubbed him through his jeans. “We can’t fuck, but I can at least help you, okay?”

Jake nodded as a look of relief spilled across his face from your touch, his hips lifting to rub against your hand.

You climb off him and slide his pants down enough for his cock to spill out into your hands. The throbbing, dripping shaft of him jumped as you touched it. His tip was already leaking like crazy, and you used your fingers to rub over it. Earning moans and twitches of pleasure.

“More,” Jake demanded. “Please…” He corrected himself as he felt you squeeze his cock tightly, warning him to keep his head on.

You moved your hand up and down his cock, his hips automatically moving to meet you. The feeling was already the best for him. He loved feeling touch from you, even just a pat on the head could get him rock hard. You speed up as you see his eyes shut and his face scrunched so cutely.

“T-That’s it, keep going!” He begged.

You took it further; focusing one hand on his tip and the other on his base, working him over completely.

Jake could barely keep still, shaking and his right leg kept twitching. He whimpered to you, “I’m so close, p-please, help me. I don’t want a mess.”

You brought your mouth down to his tip and replaced your hand with it, preparing for him to finish in your mouth. The wet sensations were enough to immediately knock him over, as he shot his cum down your throat with one hand in his hair. The other hand was holding your hand that was still stroking him.

“P-Please, stop!” Jake whined as you milked him completely for another minute. He convulsed and tears threatened his eyes. It was enough to make his eyes roll back and he held in a scream as you got the last drop of him. When you let go of him, he breathlessly thanked you before drifting off into unconsciousness.

You tucked him into bed properly and kissed his forehead. “I’ll be back soon.”

You went back to Heeseung to finish your interview undisturbed. Heeseung asked about where Jake went, sounding kind of sour like he’d known the answer already.

“Jake felt a little tired after we talked. So I let him go to sleep so we could finish. I guess we’ll have to pass on that dinner tonight.” You smiled coyly.

Heeseung smiled and left you alone as he went back home. Letting you get back to your boyfriend who was beginning to stir. Maybe Jake would be ready for round two by now…

#oracle of dreams #kpop x male reader #kpop x male reader smut #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen #enhypen imagines #enhypen x reader #jake x reader #enhypen jake #jaeyun x reader #sim jaeyun #enhypen jaeyun

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13rurururi · 10 months

Text

Haganezuka Hotaru Having a Crush on Being In Love with You (SFW)

Pairing: Haganezuka x Fem!Reader

Requests are open!

Whenever you're in close proximity, this man tries his absolute hardest to appear as nonchalant as possible — thank heavens for his mask, or else you'd instantly see his beet-red face.

Haganezuka is someone who lives on extreme emotions; from his rage towards Tanjiro breaking his craft to him feeling like his heart is about to burst from his chest whenever you smile at him — you have him (unknowingly) wrapped around your finger.

You may think he absolutely doesn't care for you, but he isn't the type to verbally express his affection; instead, he'd give you small gifts (like the last stick of Mitarashi Dango) or offer to polish your katana. This man's time is precious, but he'd always set aside time for you.

Once you got closer with one another, you opted to call him by his first name, Hotaru. The first time you uttered his name, you were undoubtedly worried he'd throw a fit because of how cute and unbefitting it is for a swordsmith like him. Surprisingly, he only grumbled and looked away (he was absolutely blushing, by the way).

You continue to call him Hotaru, and the villagers around you are so wary whenever you do so but end up pleasantly surprised to see how calmly Hotaru responds to your beckon. He's so smitten for you.

He's also quite the jealous type, seething in quiet rage towards anyone who dares flirt with you. You better be certain he has his four knives out and sharpened.

You really began seeing him as a close friend, as you've shared many afternoons together, talking about how each other's day went. You definitely laugh in endearment as he rants to you about his client (poor Tanjiro).

You were satisfied with your connection until, one day, Haganezuka built up the courage to tell you — in the most stiff, straightforward, yet genuine manner — that he is in love with you.

Let's not lie. You were surprised, to say the least. Haganezuka never showed any desire to be entangled in a romantic relationship. Kanamori even occasionally mentions how his rough, difficult personality is the main cause of his bachelor status at the age of 37.

Your entire image of him was simply upended once he muttered out his confession, his gaze faltering to your side, unable to maintain contact with your widened eyes.

You've always found him absolutely stunning under his peculiar mask — his amber irises framed by his upturned eyes; his pretty lashes that greatly contrasted his constantly furrowed brow; not to mention, his long, smooth raven-colored hair that cascaded down his muscular back — he was undoubtedly attractive.

You felt a twinge of jealousy at the thought of other women staring at his figure with evident interest.

You also funnily felt pride at the fact that they most likely could never truly handle the entirety of Haganezuka Hotaru — they weren't like you, who could calm him with the sound of your voice (as if you were the embodiment of a wind chime) or patiently sit with him as he yelled about his annoyances.

Maybe he wasn't just a friend, after all.

"Forget what I said,"

Haganezuka twisted his figure to steadily walk away from you, but you grasped onto his firm bicep to cease his escape.

He looked at you in mild bewilderment, simultaneously worried and hopeful with what your response might be.

You smiled your ever-so-gentle smile — the same smile he fell in love with and said,

"I like you, too, Hotaru."

Haganezuka's face held the most wonderful expression you have ever seen, and you were stuck between wanting to stare at his face for the next few minutes and the desire to kiss his lips that fell agape.

No worries. Hotaru decided for both of you and held you close as your lips met his for the very first time.

And it definitely will not be the last.

A/N: I am so in love with this man right now; my head is full of him. Please feel free to send requests! If you want an NSFW version, I am more than willing to serve, hehe.

#haganezuka x reader #haganezuka #kny haganezuka #hotaru haganezuka x reader #kny #kny x y/n #kny x you #kny x reader #demon slayer x reader #demon slayer haganezuka #demon slayer imagines #haganezuka hotaru #kimetsu no yaiba #kimetsu no yaiba x you #kimetsu no yaiba x reader #kny imagines #kimetsu no yaiba imagines #demon slayer

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norrisleclercf1 · 1 year

Text

My Obsession

Pairing: Obsessive/Protective!Pierre Gasly x Innocent!Reader

Rating: R

Words: 4.3K

Warnings: Fluff, SMUT, reader is touched by male that is not approved (sex*al as**alt male touches reader & reader does say no just wanted to be careful and tag it) , physical violence, possessive behavior, obsessive pierre, toxic relationship, hand collar, p in v, oral (f receiving) spanking, fingering, rough sex, dirty talk, good girl is used, Pierre refuses to let the reader go, I'm sure there is more

Requested: Yes/No

A/N: Please…please….this is not a healthy relationship and you need to be careful of this, in no way am I romanticizing this, just…read to many dark romance books since I’ve been sick, so enjoy my little fantasy that is so not healthy. Also this is for all the readers who love the dark romance plot as I do, just be careful peeps this isn't cute in real life. PLEASE PLEASE READ AT YOUR OWN RISK IF YOU UNDER 18 AND READ THIS, YOU REALLY SHOULDN'T BUT I'M NOT YOUR PARENT

As you lay in his bed, the clock down the hall chimes with a soft ding. Pierre should've been here already, but he wasn't. It's a hot summer night in France. Sighing, you throw the soft duvet back and pad to the terrace and open the doors. Pierre's French apartment was gorgeous; the Eiffel Tower was near his place, and you could watch the lights dance like stars.

His bedroom was white with splashes of color. His windows are lined with gorgeous pure white silk curtains that flow like water in the wind. The soft breeze cools your skin, but the heat is still clinging to your skin.

Looking down at Pierre's shirt, you unbutton it and shrug it onto a black armchair. You moan at the breeze hitting your bare skin, helping you cool down from the brutal warmth. Laying back down in his bed, you can get comfortable watching the curtains flow and the old clock ding, coaxing you to sleep.

Soft curses pass Pierre's mouth as he shoves open his front door. The smell of smoke and alcohol clings to his skin, but the hint of his cologne moves between the 2 scents. Cracking his neck, he looks around, ready to turn on a light, but stops. He notices your favorite sandals and purse lying on the couch, a smile tugging to his lips.

What was happening between you two was a puzzle. It was a puzzle where the pieces looked like they'd fit, but they didn't. You were the piece that clicked into place, but Pierre was the one that didn't work but still forced himself into your life.

People always said you were the sunshine, while Pierre was a storm that appeared from nowhere. When he first met you, he loved how you were so sweet and innocent, like a fragile flower. Everyone told you to avoid Pierre, but you couldn't help how he sucked you into his world. You didn't see the signs, how obsessed Pierre was with you, wanting to control everything about you. He wanted to put you in a cage and never let you go.

"Mon rayon de soleil?" (my ray of sunshine) He whispers, not sure if you are still awake. Seeing the time on the clock, you should be dead asleep.

Stepping into the bedroom, he stops seeing you on his bed, asleep and naked.

On your back, soft breaths leave your chest, moving up and down. Pierre licks his lips, watching your breasts move with your breathing. A breeze sends the curtains up, but you whine at the soft breeze ghosting your skin.

Pierre steps forward and sits down on the bed, fingers barely touching you as they follow the curves of your body. You move closer to the touch forcing Pierre to freeze, not wanting to wake you. Your body betrays you as sleep leaves, forcing you to blink and adjust before seeing Pierre watching you.

"Pierre?" Voice laced with sleep, sitting up slowly. Pierre moves, wrapping you up with the covers. Anger was bubbling to the surface when anyone could look through their windows and see what was his.

"It's me. Why are you sleeping-" "Naked?" You finish taking in his appearance. Pierre's hair was messy, his clothes crumpled, and you could smell the alcohol and smoke.

"Yes, anyone could see you. Did you stand on the terrace like that?" He growls, but you giggle, not seeing the possessive nature of his question.

"Yes, it's hot, and it felt good." You explain. Pierre wanted to be angry, but your innocence extinguished that quickly.

"Do that ever again, and your ass will be bruised and red. Understand?" Pierre asks, his grip on the sheets knuckle white.

A soft smile covers your face, leaning forward and kissing his lips. The slight tinge of alcohol coats your tongue before pulling back and nibbling on his bottom lip. Pierre drops the cover, arms yanking you into his lap and putting you into his chest.

"You're mine. Yes?" He asks, biting your neck, making you squirm and whine as Pierre pulls away, licking the bite mark.

"Yes, I'm yours." You assure him, hands tangling in his hair as he lays you down, trapping you between the bed and him.

"Take a shower first." You whisper, running your hands over him.

"Take one with me?" He begs, kissing down your neck to your breasts, about to suck on one of your tits, but you grab his face pulling him to look at you.

"Pierre, you smell like a club. I won't sleep next to you, smelling like that. I want my Pierre. Not the playboy the world gets." Pierre stares at you, seeing the anxiety in your eyes, among others.

"I'm yours." He whispers, slowly pulling himself off you as he walks into the bathroom and closes the door so the light doesn't bother you too much.

He looks in the mirror and sees why you refused him. He looked like his old self, not the one you were falling for. Turning the shower on, he groans at the hot water hitting his skin, relaxing him. The sound of the shower calms you as your eyes get heavy and soon close, having fallen asleep again.

Stepping out of the shower, Pierre sighs in relief, feeling clean and ready to be with you. Walking out, he stops hearing the familiar soft snores leave your mouth. Grabbing a pair of black boxers, he tugs them on and pulls back the other side of the covers.

He slides in slowly so he doesn't wake you as he lays beside you. With a soft whine, you move close to his body heat, knowing it is him, without waking. Reaching down, Pierre pulls your leg to lay over his waist, pulling you as close as possible, almost melding your two bodies together.

"I love you," He whispers, kissing your forehead. "You'll always be mine. Even when you leave, you're mine."

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

Waking the next morning, he groans and reaches out for you, only to be met with the cold spot you were supposed to be. Sitting up fast, he looks around the room seeing the terrace doors still open, the sound of a busy workday filtering up.

"Y/n?" He calls, and when he doesn't receive a reply, he bolts out of bed and runs down the hall. He freezes seeing you on the main terrace holding a coffee mug, wearing one of his white linen dress shirts.

"Mon rayon de soleil. Why didn't you answer me?" He snips, catching your attention as you smile up at him.

"I'm sorry, Pierre, I was listening to the people below. Didn't even hear you." Pierre runs his hand through his hair and sits across from you. He's settled after he yanks you into his lap.

"You should answer me when I call for you, babe." You just nod and lean back into his chest, relaxing to his hands running over your body.

"Why are you protective?" The question was soft, almost like it was meant to not be heard. Pierre's hands stop, trying to think of how to answer your question. Leaning forward, he kisses the back of your neck, wrapping around the front and turning you to look at him.

"You're mine. I'm protective of what is mine. I'm protective because the thought of someone taking you or leaving me drives me mad. I do this to protect you from people slamming cameras in my life. I do this for you." He whispers each sentence he moves closer till your mouth to mouth.

"Pierre." You gasp. His other hand had moved down your waist and between his shirt, fingers brushing against your pussy.

"Are you mine?" He asks, fingers slowly spreading you open, his thumb ghosting your clit.

"Mhm." You whine, grinding your hips down to get some pressure, but you get none.

"Words, Y/n. I want to hear you say it." Pierre growls, hand tightening on your throat.

"I'm yours, Pierre. I'll always be yours." You gasp, feeling dizzy from the grip on your throat. Pierre was always careful when it came to holding your throat and where. He never wanted to hurt you and learned how to do this safely and how to give you pleasure from it.

Pierre slams his lips into yours, mouth opening as you moan, feeling his thumb rub your clit in a circle. He groans and pulls away, biting your bottom lip and sucking on it before kissing you again, tongues meshing.

You pull away and moan when Pierre slides two fingers into you and curls them the moment you moan.

"Fuck." You sigh, your head resting on his shoulder, arm wrapped around his neck as you press your back into his chest, riding his fingers.

"That's it, Mon rayon de soleil. Ride my fingers." He groans in your ear, nipping it and pulling before returning to your pussy.

Pierre moves his left arm and wraps it around your waist and has your ass pressed against his crotch and moans in your ear when you grind right on his cock.

"Pierre, deeper." You whimper, cheeks bright red at how you're acting. You rarely did anything like this. It was dangerous to do this where anyone could see or take pictures. Yet, you didn't care.

"Aww, is my little slut needing more, hm? Beg for it." He groans, helping you ride his fingers, trying to get him to touch the spot where you craved him most.

"Pierre, please, please. Fuck I need you. God, I need something, your fingers deeper, your cock, anything, please, Pierre." You cry, eyes burning with tears as your body aches with want.

Pierre moans and stands up, pulling you with him as he stumbles inside, almost falling and landing on a couch, but you find yourselves on the floor in a mess of limbs and furious need.

"Fuck me, please, please I've been so good. I haven't touched myself since you've left. Please." You cry as Pierre nods, ripping his own shirt off. You watch the buttons tear off before you close your eyes crying out when you feel Pierre's tongue on you.

"Still so sweet." He mummers between your legs. You both make eye contact as you watch his tongue move up and down before wrapping his lips around your clit and biting; a broken moan, almost a cry, leaves your mouth.

"Pierre, please." As Pierre moves, you beg, sliding off his boxers and pumping himself several times. Grabbing his cock he runs his tip up and down your lips, watching as he coats his tip and slides into you.

Both of you are left breathless as you whine with the burn of him stretching you. Pierre liked to boast about his size. He was more girth than length, but fuck, he wasn't small by any means. Taking 3 deep breaths, Pierre tries to calm himself down, the way you clamp down on him. He knew it was due to the sudden intrusion and leans down, kissing your cheek.

"I'm sorry, sunshine, it's okay." He whispers, knowing you didn't like him slammed into like this.

"Hurts." You whisper, squirming, trying to get used to him.

"Shhh, it's okay. Take some deep breaths." Doing as he says, he smiles, nodding in approvement, feeling your muscles relax. He groans and moves, but you hiss, and he stops.

"Pierre....." He quiets you by kissing you with new tenderness than the erratic movements of lust from earlier.

"Are you okay? Did I hurt you? Tell me, and I'll pull out, and we can forget about this." He moves to pull away, but you wrap your legs around his waist, trapping him.

"M fine, just warn me next time, yeah?" You ask. Pierre laughs and nods his head in agreement.

"Of course Mon rayon de soleil." The pain subsides, and you rock your hips up, causing Pierre to groan, dropping his head into your shoulder.

"Ready?" He asks, waiting for your confirmation, nodding your head, but he tsks, not liking that.

"Words." He always urges big on using words rather than a movement to make sure you are genuinely okay with this.

"Fuck me, make love to me, show my body that I'm yours. Own me." You moan, Pierre groaning as he bites your neck, marking you as his.

"I'm going to fuck you. Hard. Are you okay with this?" He asks.

"Yes." One word, and Pierre snaps.

Pulling out, he slams back into you as you scream, Pierre slamming in and out of you brutally. Legs wrapped around his waist, you hold on as he fucks you hard, pulling every little noise out of you.

"Fuck Pierre." You cry when his mouth bites your breast, leaving bite marks everywhere. They left an effect, but not enough to cause serious harm.

"Mine, always mine." He groans and lays entirely on you as his hips move quickly, fastly, barely leaving you.

"Should I fill you up with me? Should I leave myself in you, where you can never leave? Pump you full, fuck." He moans and rocks back, pulling you up so he's sitting, and you're on top.

"Ride me." He groans as you nod, getting comfortable resting on his thighs and move, sliding him back into you.

Pierre looks at you and smiles. Skin shiny with sweat, eyes blurry with lust and need, chest heaving with quick breaths. His eyes roll back when you move your hips in a slow circle and then a quick snap forward, teasing. You repeat this a couple times before you start to bounce. His arms pull you close, feeling your heartbeat against his own chest. Pierre watches you bounce up and down, moving fast as you whimper, feeling yourself close.

"Need more?" He asks, seeing the desperation in your eyes as you nod. Moving one arm, he puts it between you both and starts to rub your clit, making you stutter in your movements before regaining your pace and moving faster, chasing your high.

"Close." You gasp and clamp down on Pierre, whose own hips shoot up into you, muscles cramping as his cock twitches inside you.

"Come in me, fuck. Make me yours forever." You whisper. Pierre nods and moves his hips up to meet your pace before you gasp and come when Pierre pinches your clit, sending you over the edge.

Moaning loudly, Pierre holds you down on top of him as you both shake and breathe heavily. You giggle but slump against him as Pierre blinks, trying to clear his head.

"One way to start a day." You whisper, kissing his neck as you try to pull away, but can't muscle too tired.

Pierre smiles, fingers drawing shapes into your back, letting you relax before pulling out of you.

"Don't you have some party tonight?" You ask. Pierre's fingers stiffen and pull away slightly to look at you.

"Yeah, why?" He asks, trying to understand why you're asking. You never cared when he went out to party.

"Can I come with?" You ask and sit up, Pierre biting his lip as you giggle, feeling him twitch inside you. He can't say no, not with you staring at him, practically begging.

"Of course, but." He swallows, thinking of all the dangers and how he'd need you to stay by his side the entire time.

"You are to stay next to me the entire time." He points out, kissing your bottom lip and smiling as you nod.

"Pierre?" Pierre pulls away. "Yes, baby?" He asks, hands rubbing out your muscles, which has your eyes rolling back from how good it feels.

"Can you pull out of me now? I need to shower?" You ask, which has Pierre choking on his laughter as he nods and carefully slides out of you, and you sigh, kinda hating the way you miss him inside you.

"Shower with me?" He asks, a repeat of what he asked you last night. This time you accept.

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

You smile at your dress. Wearing a black ring-linked cut-out lantern sleeve bodycon dress that was skin tight, showing off your body and barely covering your ass. It was a risky dress to wear out to a club, but Pierre's friends would be there. Pierre would be there, so you knew you'd be safe to wear this out.

Pierre rounds the corner and freezes in his spot. All he could see was some guy grabbing your ass and him breaking his face. Taking a deep breath, he pushes away the thought and walks up behind you as you apply your lipstick.

"Look at you, so gorgeous and ready to ruin." He whispers, making you laugh as he spins you around, thinking of ways to ruin your lipstick.

Kissing you? Fucking your mouth? Having you choke around his cock, while he pulls your hair and calls you a good girl? So many ways to ruin it and so little time.

"Don't, Pierre. We have to leave soon." You groan and turn back around, placing the finished touches.

"Take them off." He smirks, watching you raise your eyebrow in confusion.

"Take what off?" You ask, unsure of his intentions.

"Your underwear. Take them off. I want to have easy access to your pussy, tonight." Pierre leans against the door, watching you as you think the idea over.

"If I bend over in this dress so much, everyone will see what's yours." Seeing his eyes darken and smirk replaced by a scowl, you smile, having not thought of that.

"Do that, and I'll pin you to the bed and whip your ass until it's bleeding." Pushing off the door, he smacks your ass hard, making you jump and bite your lip to stop the moan from escaping.

Pierre was sweet and wonderful to you, but he also had that domineering, controlling side that made you unsure if this was a healthy relationship. Being with him meant standing in the middle of a hurricane and being unable to move as the eye of the storm engulfed you. A part of you knew that Pierre wasn't healthy for you. But the other part of you craved that controlling nature and over-possessiveness. For some reason, it made you feel loved and wanted that he felt that for you. It wasn't suitable for either of you the way you were going. Yet, you couldn't leave one another.

Looking in the mirror, you swallow and reach down, pulling your thong off slowly and step out of them. You look back in the mirror, gain the courage, and walk out, heading to your purse. Pierre sits on the couch, and the moment you step out, his eyes are on you, watching your every movement.

You smile, wanting to rile him up. You bend straight down, which has Pierre about break his phone in half when he gets an eye full of your ass and pussy. You gasp when you feel his black jeans press right into you, almost knocking you over. Standing up, Pierre kisses your neck, teasing you.

"Are you still sore, my good girl?" He asks, not wanting to push you too far or hurt you.

"Mhm." You whine, feeling a slight burn that has Pierre stepping back.

"Okay, let's get going." Opening the door, he grabs your hand and pulls you into the Parisian nightlife.

You don't remember much until you are pulled into a nightclub with sweaty, drunk, messy people as they dance and drink. Pierre pulls you into his side and holds you close as he yells loudly, greeting his friends. You don't miss how one of his friends stares at you, licking his lips and smirking. You give the friend a shy smile and press yourself deeper into Pierre's side. Pierre looks down at you and kisses your head, keeping you close. For the first few hours, you have no problem until you head to the bar.

"I'm going for a drink; want anything?" You yell in Pierre's ear, the music so loud you have to shout for him to hear you.

"No! Want me to come with you?" He yells back, but you shake your head no. As you climb over his friends, you swear you feel someone touch your upper thigh as you pass, but you shake your head, knowing Pierre's friends wouldn't do that.

Stepping up to the bar, you wait for the bartender to notice you; instead, you feel someone press against you. Turning around, you freeze, seeing it wasn't your boyfriend but the friend from earlier.

"Can I help you?" You shout, but the friend laughs, trapping you between the bar and him.

"How 'bout you and I get out of here, and I test you out, hm?" He asks, hands squeezing your waist.

"Please let me go." You ask, terror settling down in your bones. He was bigger than you, and you didn't know if Pierre could see you.

"Why? We all know Pierre will toss you to the side when he's done with you. So why not warm my bed now?" He asks, pressing closer, and you wince with the harsh smell of his spicy cologne hitting your nose. You wanted Pierre's soft scent and hands touching you, not this person before you.

"Get off me!" You scream and start to thrash, but people ignore you, thinking it's two drunk people fighting. You scream louder when you feel his hand move up and try to get under your dress before he is ripped off you.

All you see is a flash and Pierre bashing his face in. People scream, the music coming to a halt; all you can hear now is bone-breaking as Pierre roars in French before security tears him off. You stagger after them and into the humid night of Paris.

Security shoves past you as you watch Pierre take deep breaths and then look at you. His eyes matched that of a wild animal that was trapped inside a cage.

"Pierre-" You slam your mouth shut when he reaches out and pulls you into his chest, holding you close.

"Fuck, this is my fault. I never should've let you around them. I'm sorry Mon rayon de soleil. God, I'm so sorry." His voice breaks, allowing someone close to you to even let them almost hurt you right before him.

Pierre knew something was wrong when you didn't return or when he saw that bastard eye fuck you, then go after you saying he was getting a new beer before he finished his fresh one. When he saw you scream and that fuckers hands try to get under your dress, he snapped. He wanted to kill him, but that would mean witnesses, and he decided to just beat the fuck out of him instead.

"I'm okay." Your soft voice brings him out of his thoughts as he steps back and pushes your hair out of your face.

"If I ever see him again, I'm ripping his throat out. I never should've- fuck." He groans, seeing the tears in your eyes. "What did that bastard say to you?" he growls, ready to return and land a few more punches.

"Are you going to throw me away?" Pierre feels a wave of new anger hearing you speak those words.

"What?" You sniffle and wipe your eyes, makeup starting to smear as your adrenaline wears off, what just happened and what the person said to you finally hitting you.

"He said I was just warming your bed and that you'd toss me away like trash and that I should move to his bed before you threw me away." You gasp, wiping your eyes quickly, trying to stop the tears.

Pierre grabs you, tilting your chin and forcing you to look at him as tears run down his hand.

"The only way you are leaving me is if I'm dead. And that fucker will lose his tongue when I see him next. I am yours, and you are mine. We're made for one another and damned for life, but we are together. Are we poison to each other? Yes. But no one will ever love you more than me. You're not trash; you're not just warming my bed. You're my fucking queen, mon rayon de soleil, my fucking oxygen. You're doing it for the rest of your life when you lay in my bed. Don't forget that. You're my obsession." Pierre growls before kissing you with such softness you melt. His words were harsh and needy, but his kiss was soft and reassuring.

"Don't leave me." You whimper; Pierre moves to pick you up and hold you close.

"Never." He whispers, knowing he would he'd anywhere you were. He'd always be by your side.

"Take me home?" You ask, making Pierre smile. This was the first time you called his place home.

"Yes, sunshine, we're going home." He whispers, walking down the street and taking you to his place. The entire walk, you cry into his shoulder as Pierre walks into the apartment.

He helps you out of your dress, wipes you down with a warm washcloth, and does your face wash routine. You sniffle and move, wrapping yourself around him after Pierre slides on a soft shirt of his. He walks into his bedroom and lays down with him on top of you, knowing the pressure would help you calm down.

"I love you." You whisper after a few hours. You had calmed down. Fingers tangled in his hair as Pierre sighed, glad you were feeling better.

"I love you too, sunshine." You fall asleep into a soft dream with a smile on your face dreaming of you and Pierre, damned for eternity with the madness inside you both, not caring if you were poison for one another. He was your fallen angel; you were the angel he was dragging down, and you didn't care if you were damned. You were his.

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venuslore · 6 months

Text

𖥔 𝐅𝐀𝐕𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄 𝐂𝐑𝐈𝐌𝐄: 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐓𝐖𝐎 𖥔

summary ; rafe begins to push you away when he realises the true nature of his feelings towards you

pairing ; rafe cameron x pogue!fem!reader

notes ; this series will contain mature themes, such as : p in v sex, fingering, oral sex (f and m receiving), swearing, physical altercations, potential nightmares and anxiety, arguments, drinking and drugs. if i forgot any please let me know.

do not transfer, translate or share my work to any other sites.

the sun beats down on your skin as you walk along the jagged footpath, the only sounds being that of the marsh in the distance and your dial tone ringing out in your ear for what felt like the millionth time that afternoon. you knew you shouldn’t, but you didn’t want to stop calling until the other side of the line was finally answered, and had you not been standing out the front of the chateau, you probably would have.

instead, you lock the screen and shove it deep into your pocket before heading around the back of the house. the sound of your phone calls going unanswered now replaced by the sweet chime of your friends’ laughter, immediately taking the edge off from the rough morning you had already had.

“there she is!” jj hollers, making your presence known among the group — well, the boys anyway — he had his feet kicked up on an old crate as he nestled a beer bottle in his left hand. “we were beginning to think you’d ditched us for them kooks after all.” he laughs; a joke he liked to continuously tell.

“please, i would never do that to you, jj,” you wink, pushing open the outer wire door of the patio. “i see you three bounced back nicely after last night.”

you take in their appearances and besides the fact that they were wearing the same clothes, there was no physical evidence in their features of the fun they’d had the night before. even jj, who was usually downing the greasiest food he could find, was seemingly… fine.

“you know it, baby!” john b says, a smirk splayed across his lips.

“we have kie, and those weird green drinks she makes, to thank.” pope raises his brows your way.

even with that knowledge, it amazed you how fine they all seemed after the previous night’s bonfire, considering how much more they had to drink than you, while you were still dealing with a slight pounding in your head. it was just adding more fuel to the fire that pogues knew how to party better than anyone.

jj offers you a sip of his beer as you sink into the sofa beside him, letting your head fall to rest on his shoulders and he instinctively pats your thigh with comfort. with the morning you had, getting a little buzzed with your friends seemed like the perfect way to get your mind off of everything.

after what had happened last night, you didn’t expect things to take such a turn, and for the worst. not only had you spent the night with rafe — in more ways than one — but you had woken up alone in his bed without so much as a text from him. you knew staying with him was only going to stir something up between the two of you, but you never expected complete radio silence.

it was stupid, really, of you to think that things with rafe could ever change, and yet, you still held onto the hope that he just had somewhere to be. regardless, rafe never would’ve left without saying something or returning one of your calls or texts, and now you had a nagging feeling in the pit of your stomach that something deeper was going on.

“i’m telling you, it was a girl.” sarah exclaims as she and kie push through the front door, laughing and sharing the same dumbstruck expressions as they join the rest of you.

kie shakes her head, scrunching up her nose with disgust, “there’s no way. there’s absolutely no way anyone would - ew!”

piquing john b’s interest, he reaches for sarah and pulls her into his lap, “what’s ‘ew’?” he mimics.

the two girls look to one another with disturbance in their eyes. whatever it was, it seemed big enough to have the blonde questioning whether or not she should share it, which definitely grabbed your attention, and ultimately she decided to spill.

“so, last night after i got home… i went to see if wheezie was awake, and when i was leaving her room, we heard rafe… with a girl.”

your blood runs cold the second the words leave sarah’s mouth and you almost choke on jj’s drink — you knew it was you that she had heard.

the thought of your friends finding out about what you had really been up to all those nights you said you had to leave before curfew, or where you’d disappear for hours at a time, when you were really with rafe cameron suddenly floods your mind. your skin begins to crawl, an untraceable itch burning at your skin as an overwhelming shadow of dread looms above.

“what? like talking?” pope queries, not understanding what was so scandalising about it.

“no, dummy,” kie scoffs, shaking her head once again, this time with a lazy smile.

sarah screws her face up, snickering lightly, but clearly puzzled by her new discovery, “i’ve never seen rafe bring someone home before; topper and kelce barely ever come over. i mean, he’s literally always walking around with a stick up his ass saying he doesn’t need the distraction of being in a relationship.”

jj leans forward, his curiosity getting the better of him, and wiggling his brows, he asks, “do you know who she was? was she hot?”

you bite down on your lip, waiting for sarah to answer the question. each and every fleeting second feeling like a million as the anticipation builds inside your stomach. you felt like you were going to be sick as you hang onto every syllable like your life depended on it.

“i had to go do some last-minute shopping with rose and wheezie, and whoever she was, she was gone by the time we got back.”

an inaudible sigh of relief escapes you — especially when you recall how stressful it was having to sneak out of the cameron’s house without getting caught — but not just for your sake; for rafe too. you weren’t sure how ward would react knowing his son was also seeing a pogue; sarah and john b were enough, this would just push him over the edge.

not that rafe deserved you trying to look out for him after leaving you so abruptly this morning.

it was like he had fallen off the face of the earth… your earth.

“well, whoever she is, she clearly has no standards or any respect for herself if she’s getting caught up with the likes of him,” kie says, raising her brows in a way that lets you know she’s being honest.

you knew you shouldn’t have let her words get to you, being that she had a burning hated for the cameron boy, but the fact that she didn’t know it was you who sarah had inadvertently heard last night only meant that she was speaking the truth, and in all honesty, that made it hurt a million times more.

you were aware that maintaining a secret ‘non-relationship’ with rafe was never going to be easy. between the constant lying and excuses you had to give your friends, the sneaking around behind their backs, plus rafe’s unpredictable behaviour sometimes. it was already a lot to deal with. the last thing you needed was to have your friends talk about you, and degrade you, unknowingly or not.

“don’t you think you’re being a little harsh?” the words slip from the tip of your tongue, and everyone turns your way in unison. “i’m just saying, we shouldn’t be judging someone by who they sleep with, nor should we automatically assume that they have no respect for themselves based on that fact, and that fact alone.”

“or maybe she doesn’t know how horrible he is.” the brunette scoffs.

“or maybe it’s strictly physical?” jj adds, nodding his head with approval.

sighing, you continue, “i’m serious, guys. i get that rafe is literally the last person we should be ‘nice’ to but that doesn’t mean that this girl deserves to be outed just because of him.”

there’s a small silence among the six of you but you’re not entirely sure if that’s a good or bad thing. who knows what was going through their heads, or if you had accidentally said too much.

“since when did you care so much about rafe?” kie asks, an accusatory tone to her words.

“i don’t. i just-” you pause for a moment, trying to keep your nerves from completely overthrowing you. you could see that the hatred they held for the boy you cared so deeply for was simply too strong to bypass your reasoning as you take a look around. they had every right to feel the way they did, rafe had been awful to them, but unfortunately, they didn’t know him like you did. “-just… forget it”

with a defeated smile, you take another sip from jj’s drink as the conversation continues around you. you tried to drown it all out by focusing on the water in the marsh or the wind chimes that hung in the corner, but despite your best efforts, you kept being brought back to the topic at hand. if not by your friends, then by your own mind.

the rest of the afternoon remained that way: with your friends participating in conversations and indulging themselves with multiple ‘juice boxes’ while you slipped in and out of focus, making sure to add something here and there to not throw off any suspicion. you were sort of relieved when you had to go home, only to remember the unbearable night that awaited.

knowing now what you did, you knew your friends were going to be keeping an extra cautious eye on rafe tonight, which meant any plans or ideas you had about trying to talk to him had just flown out the window - you needed to get his attention somehow.

it’s not long before the sound of low music is filling your ears as you hesitantly make your way through the large and busy entrance of the island club. tonight’s event was already in full swing — you weren’t even entirely sure what it was for, probably raising money for something unimportant, like another golf course.

everywhere you looked you were greeted by kooks, all of whom barely looked your way, and if they did, it was for reasons they wouldn’t care to admit aloud. your family may fit in well at the club, but you on the other hand, did not, and they were careless about hiding that fact.

you knew what they thought, all the judgement they held for you. it was no different to the looks you’d get at the boneyard. though the hostility never came from the pogues, and the torons were oblivious to it all.

that aside, you’d still been forced to attend your fair share of these events, and while you assumed they would get easier, you were always left feeling uneasy about it all; having to pretend you were something you so very clearly weren’t just for the sake of appearances, and all while having to endure meaningless stories about the kooks with their multiple vacation houses and extravagant lifestyles.

it was truly a nightmare.

all you wanted was to find your friends, some alcohol, and a quiet place to sit, or alternatively; rafe.

nothing quite settled your nervous heart at these events like rafe’s reassuring gaze from across the room. he knew you hated it — the fake kindness, the judgement, having to get dressed up just to be perceived by people that didn’t, and would never, truly know you — though you weren’t entirely sure how he would react to seeing you right now.

“excuse me miss, we seem to have misplaced our friend, you haven’t seen her have you?” a familiar voice catches you off guard and when you turn, both kie and pope are standing there grinning from ear to ear.

you pull the two of them into a hug as relief washes over you, “oh, thank god. i was worried i’d actually have to talk to these people.” you say just as an older couple passes by, their noses upturned at your remark.

“i don’t know, i think you’d manage dressed like that,” kie reaches to poke you in the stomach but you playfully slap her hand away, and the three of you fall into a small peal of comforting laughter.

while kie’s comments had upset you earlier that day, you were just glad to not be alone for the time being. even if it meant enduring whatever other comments you had coming your way.

“yeah. it seems you’ve made quite the impression,” pope says and you follow his eyes to a group of guys staring your way from the corner of the room.

you knew your dress was a little out there and while the comments were flattering — while also making you slightly uncomfortable by the way you were being looked upon — a bittersweet taste filled your mouth because, truthfully, there were only one person’s eyes you wanted to be on you.

“while i object to the fact that they’re ogling at you like a piece of meat…” kie looks their way, causing them to look away, and then back at you. “i do have to admit… you look hot.”

you knew it was just the dress, and not you, per say, that was giving you so much attention. it was backless and draped down to your ankles, flourishing at the bottom as it split down the thigh. the only thing keeping it in place were the two thin spaghetti straps that crisscrossed over your shoulders, letting the material dip just above the small of your back. it was a deep blue satin material; a colour rafe had once complimented you in.

you liked the dress, but you liked the idea of it ending up on rafe's bedroom floor more.

and yet, now when you thought about the night that could’ve been, you were suddenly feeling very naked and aware of the eyes that were on you. staring at you in ways that only rafe ever had.

kie seems to notice the quick change in your demeanour when you wrap your arms around yourself, and begins pushing pope towards the exit, “come on, let's go find sarah before she crosses back over to the dark side.”

as the three of you begin to approach the doors that lead out to the patio, the sound of ward cameron’s voice could be heard lingering in from outside. you, however, pay him no mind. the last thing you wanted was to listen to the man who was the sole reason for you having to hide your ‘non-relationship’ with rafe — if you could even call it that now.

with one foot out the door, you stop when kie turns back to make a snarky comment; one that falls on deaf ears when a loud burst of laughter consumes your attention. annoyed, you instinctively look up at the group of guys that had planted themselves just outside the door, taking in a few familiar faces when you see topper and kelce are there, and standing between them is the most familiar of all. the one you had been longing to see.

there he was; looking as handsome as ever in a suit he had personally picked out, no doubt. the deep blue was almost an exact match to the dress you were wearing, reflecting against the sapphire in his eyes a little too perfectly, and in that moment, it was as if time stood still as your gaze fell upon each other.

a surge of panic courses through you and your mind flurries with the realisation of just how badly you wanted whatever was going on with him to stop so that you could finally wrap yourself up in his arms again. you hadn’t realised it until then just how attached you had grown to that feeling, but mostly, you hadn’t realised just how scared you were of even the thought of losing him.

especially when he wasn’t ever really yours to begin with.

the breath in your throat hitches as his eyes trail your body, taking in the dress you so clearly wore for him, and his eyes soften for a moment before his jaw tightens and he looks away. he didn’t dare give you another second of his time as he scopes his surroundings, cradling the glass in his hand as he pretends he was actually interested in any of this bullshit — in anything, as long as it wasn’t you.

“hey, you coming?” pope’s voice pulls you back to reality after noticing you had stopped following behind them. you nod, giving him some excuse about your shoe getting caught under your dress, and he offers you his arm as you pretend to fix the non-existing problem before walking away.

kie is the first to spot sarah in the middle of the crowded space, stuck in a conversation with an older lady as her father's voice practically consumes anyone in a 10’ft radius, and the three of you wave her over. dismissing the woman, she sneaks away from the crowd, but not before checking her surroundings and making sure that her father wasn’t looking her way.

“oh, my god,” she groans, shaking her head as she gives you a hug. “it’s been an hour and i have spoken to like thirty different people - you guys look stunning, by the way.”

“as do you,” kie tilts her head toward the blonde, grabbing her by the hands and pulling her towards a seat off to the side and a little ways away from the main area of the club. “so, how’s the whole ‘mystery girl’ thing coming along?”

sighing, sarah frumps herself further down into the wooden seat, watching as the rest of the party unfolded before you all, “it’s pretty much a bust. he hasn’t spoken to anyone expect topper, kelce, and a few of the others guys, and the girls… he just brushes them all off.”

confused, your mind flitters with a million thoughts, all racing around your mind trying to get to the same destination. it was clear they were talking about rafe; did they know? no. they couldn’t. how could they know?

“wait, what are you guys talking about?” you ask, but your question, and the panic in your voice is cut by the sound of jj and john b calling out to the four of you from behind, making a spectacle of themselves as they sneak through the back fields of the club.

your friends all laugh as the two boys join you, showing off the suits they had no doubt stolen from jj’s cousin, or something, but even among the commotion, kie and sarah’s words kept ringing around in your head; your friends were actively trying to seek you out.

how could you have been so careless?

you were more than aware that rafe lived in the same house as one of your friends, whether she found out directly or through wheezie, you knew you needed to be more than careful. now, you were on the brink of your friends finding out that you’re the one that’s been sleeping with the one guy they hated the most and there was nothing you could do about it.

you needed to stop seeing rafe, at least until things cooled down, but you needed to let him know what was going on. you needed to tell him your friends were aware of him sleeping with someone and you needed to take extra precaution. that’s if he even wanted to keep seeing you because with the way he was acting, you weren’t so sure.

“well, well, well, look at you,” jj smirks in your direction, grabbing a hold of your hand and making you do a twirl, “looking all kook-like. now, why don’t you get all dressed up like this for us, huh?”

you give the blond a playful shove, trying to brush off the comment, but the guilt that had been gnawing at you all day decides to make a reappearance. it’s sharp claws crawling up your chest and into your throat, making it all the harder to breathe. you try to push it aside, shove it back down and not let it get to you, but seeing your friends and knowing they would disown you if they knew the truth was more than enough to have you on edge.

everything you were bearing was beginning to take it’s toll; knowing your friends were suspicious and that they would shun you from ever talking to them again if they found out and now seeing how fine rafe seemed after last night, as if it had never happened.

perhaps this was all some sort of premeditated idea and he was just looking for one last rendezvous before ending things? you didn’t want to admit it, but you wouldn’t put it past him either.

“i’ll - uh - i’ll be back. i just need to use the bathroom,” you gesture back to the club, it’s bright light illuminating it’s surroundings but faded where it came to you and your friends. you don’t give any of them time to answer before you’re scampering off, not wanting kie or sarah to offer to come along.

inside, you could see people mingling and enjoying their night — self-indulgent vultures, or not — but where rafe and the others stood only moments ago was now empty. no sign of the boy in blue anywhere.

weaving your way through the gathered crowd, you eventually make it back inside and take note of how less busy it was. the groups mingling in the hall had dispersed leaving it clear now as they all trickled outside or into the surrounding rooms.

“aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?” topper comes into view, practically stopping you in your tracks before leaning back to take in your dress.

“oh, hey topper,” your words come out a little shaken, mostly just from being caught off guard.

“y’know, for someone who denies themself of all this, you sure know how to look the part.” he waves his arms out, and your eyes instinctively follow when you catch sight of rafe in the room across from you.

though, this time he wasn’t alone. standing next to him was a short blonde in a bright pink dress, her full attention on him as she spoke, but he looked like he’d rather be anywhere else. his eyes flitting around the room until he spots you too, and you quickly return back to topper.

you let out a small fake laugh and shake your head. you weren’t sure what to say to his comment.

“no. seriously. you look - you look great, though,” he smiles, and for a second you could’ve sworn there was a flirtatious hint in his tone.

“thanks, top,” you extend your arm and give him a friendly nudge at the same time you see rafe dismiss the girl he was talking to and begin to walk your way.

your heart starts to thud so loudly in your chest that you were sure it was visible to the naked eye. you could hear it thrumming in your ears as your stomach tries to crawl up your throat with nerves. but when you expect him to stop and maybe say something, even just to topper, he keeps walking.

he strides right past you and topper, and heads to the staircase just behind you both, but as he turns to ascend them, bypassing the ribbon gate that was clearly there to keep everyone downstairs, he looks right at you. his eyes piercing blue as he all but stares into your soul.

this was your chance.

you needed to get him alone and he so much as provided you with the perfect opportunity to do so. this was your chance to tell rafe about your friends, but to also confront and demand he tells you what was going on with him.

“y/n?” topper says your name, pulling you back to the conversation at hand.

you blink, “sorry, what did you say?”

“no, it’s okay,” he tries to laugh off the fact that you had vagued out on him. “i was just asking if you wanted to-”

“i’m really sorry,” you cut him off. “hold that thought. i have to quickly use the bathroom, but i’ll be right back.” you get your words out hastily, barely giving him a moment to comprehend before you were once again rushing off.

topper stands there stunned as you too bypass the ribbon gate, rapidly scanning your surroundings to make sure no one was looking. the last thing you wanted was to get caught with rafe. it was risky, extremely risky, but you were desperate for answers and it seemed that this was the only way you were going to get them.

softening your footsteps, you check all of the rooms before reaching the men’s change room. it was a daring move but again, you were desperate. taking in a deep breath, you slowly push the door open as the faint smell of lingering deodorant and cologne fills your senses.

lockers lined either side of the room, apart from where the door to the showers was, and in the middle was a line of bench seats, decorated with a large plant in the middle. at the very end was a small window nook with a chair, and leaning against the window stood rafe.

his back was to you, watching the crowd below, as he throws back the rest of his drink and lets out a heavy sigh. his shoulders rise and fall with the breath, making your own feel faint in comparison. you swallow the ball that had formed in your throat and open your mouth to speak, only to have him beat you to it.

“you shouldn’t be here.”

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