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alvojake · 3 months

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Six Feet Under | P.SH

「paring」 : ceo!sunghoon x stripper!fem!reader 「word count」 : 3.5k

「synopsis」 : even a busy ceo needs a well-deserved break to release some pent-up frustration and you just so happen to be that escape he finds himself returning to. he was married and you swore you'd never fall in love again, however, what happens when you find yourself wanting more?

「genre」 : smut, angst, forbidden romance

「warning」 : cheating (I do NOT condone cheating irl, this is for the sake of the story!), making out, pet names (baby, princess, kitten, good girl, also slut is used), unprotected sex (big no-no, wrap it before you tap it), fingering, oral (m. receiving), cursing, mirror sex, teasing, mentions of breeding, creampie, choking, hair pulling, begging, hoon spanks the reader like once, public sex(?), lmk if I missed anything!

All you wanted in your life was to live a life of luxury, surrounded by pretty things. So much money that you live the rest of your life in peace with a fancy glass of champagne. A little life without having to deal with someone else, without commitment, without love.

However, nothing in life came for free and you of course had to work for it. Just like any other normal Friday night here you were in a tiny two-piece that left very little to the imagination and heels that were ungodly tall. Twirling around the pole effortlessly, money pooling on the ground underneath you. The catcalls and provocative remarks weren’t anything new to you if anything they spurred you on more.

Just then you caught sight of a familiar face, sitting at the bar that trailed the length of the stage. His eyes watching you from over the rim of his glass, studying your every move. Sunghoon wasn’t a stranger to you, far from it actually.

Sunghoon was always here Friday nights, maybe Saturday if he could sneak out without raising too many questions. He was a busy man, running a well-known company wasn’t for the weak. This also meant that he pent up frustration from the earlier days of the week he needed to get out so where did he find himself? At the most popular strip club in all of Korea, watching the very dancer that has held him captive since the beginning.

Landing on your feet with a satisfying click of your heels you walked around the pole, your hand still tightly wrapped around the metal. Stopping in front of the black-haired male with a smirk, dropping to your knees you rolled hips forward, your hand in your hair gaining some hollars from the other drunk men around you.

While many others had their gaze set on you, your gaze was solely on the man in front of you. Sunghoon’s eyes never left your figure as you crawled in his direction, giving him a better view down the skimpy top that hung loosely on your body.

“Hey, kitten give us another show, yeah?” A man that was standing next to Sunghoon reached forward tucking a wad of cash in the band of your bottoms before giving your thigh a small tap.

You leaned down on your forearms, giving him a wide smile and a wink before turning your gaze back to Sunghoon. Watching his chocolate brown eyes darken, his knuckles white as he gripped his glass a little too tight.

The look he was giving you was already enough to have heat pooling in your gut.

Crawling forward, you reach forward tracing your manicured fingers along his jaw feeling the muscles tense under your touch. This wasn’t completely out of the norm for you so it didn’t raise any suspicion from those around you. However, you got a few jealous remarks as you leaned closer to Sunghoon, your fingers trailing down his neck right over his pulse point. You could feel his rapid heartbeat under your fingertips as your lips brushed his ear. Saying a simple ‘you know where to find me.’ before moving away just as the music faded, ending your performance.

Finding you was exactly what Sunghoon did, finding you sitting in front of your vanity in your dressing room. Your eyes flickered up to meet his dark ones through the mirror as the door clicked shut.

“Took you long enough.” Your words were more teasing than annoyed, however, the taller male didn’t say a word. Looking at you through the mirror with a hard-to-read expression.

Seeing as you weren’t going to get a response you let out a huff before grabbing your hair brush to untangle your silky strands. Your eyes trained on your reflection as you repeated the same cycle of pulling your hair through the thin bristles.

Until movement caught your eye, Sunghoon moved to stand behind you as you sat the hairbrush down. His slim fingers then traced along your jaw much like you had done to him just an hour ago. They were cold against your burning skin, leaving a chill to go down your spine.

Light gleaming off of the metal band that hugged his ring finger reminded you that the man behind you, the man who has fucked you senseless multiple times in this very room wasn’t a single man.

“What about your wife? Won’t she be wondering where her husband is so late?” You smirked at Sunghoon through the mirror.

His hand was quick to grab your face, squishing your cheeks tightly and you let out a surprised yelp.

“How many times do I have to tell you to keep her out of your mouth?” Sunghoon’s breath fanned over your ear, “or do I have to remind you what happened last time?”

Your throat went dry as the memories of him denying you release so many times flashed through your mind. Looking over you met his dark eyes, but no words left your tongue.

“Cat got your tongue princess?” The deep tone of his voice had you squeezing your thighs together, which of course didn’t go unnoticed by the dark-haired male.

His grip on your face loosened as he softly caressed your jaw, his thumb swiping your bottom lip. As if instinct took over you let your mouth fall open allowing him to insert the digit into your mouth, pressing down on your tongue.

You closed your lips, encasing his finger in your warm heat while he watched you with an intense gaze. Sucking softly, tongue swirling, drenching his digit in your saliva, eyes never leaving his.

“On your knees,” Sunghoon demanded, pulling his hand away from your face, and motioning to the ground. You obey, sitting on your knees on the cool faux wood ground, an ache already starting to form in your joints. But that would be a problem for future you to deal with.

Looking up you were met with Sunghoon’s blown-out pupils, the same cold expression on his face. However, there was a tinge of annoyance because of how slow you were going.

Reaching down he ran his fingers through your hair and you relished in the feeling of his nails softly scraping your scalp. Until he grabbed a fist full of your hair, tugging harshly causing a whine to leave your lips. He leaned down, his breath fanning your face, a dark look in his eyes that was enough to tell you that you were in for a long night.

“You know what to do, so-” He tugged on your hair again eliciting a whimper from your lips, “Do. It.”

Letting go of your hair he stood straight on his feet once more, watching as you hastily reached for his belt. Pulling it loose you let his slacks fall, pooling at his ankles and leaving him in his boxers. You ghosted your fingers over his bulge that was pressing against the fabric, “aw how long have you been like this?” You teased, but the dark spot was evidence enough that he had been like this for some time.

Sunghoon’s jaw clenched as you continued to tease him through his underwear. Opening his mouth to tell you to get on with it but he was cut off as a choked groan tore through his throat, your fingers squeezing him through the fabric. The sound alone was enough to have your core throbbing, and your underwear becoming uncomfortably sticky.

Looking up only added to the burning in your stomach, his bottom lip was trapped in his teeth, his eyes hooded watching your every move. You didn’t want to wait any longer to have a taste of him again, it’d be a lie if you said you weren’t addicted to him. Something about fucking around in secret excited you even more, though you did feel kinda bad for his wife.

The sound of your name falling from his lip in such a surly tone was enough to snap you out of your daze. Raising higher on your knees you grabbed the hem of his button-up shirt, pushing it up revealing his toned abdomen. Pressing feather-like kisses over the skin, trailing along the waistband of his underwear. Listening to the hushed curses that would fall from his lips gives you the confidence to press a firm kiss right on his v-line.

Feeling his muscles contract under your skin spurred you on, leaving a trail of wet, open-mouth kisses along his abdomen. Stopping right under his belly button, nipping at the skin softly, his hand falling softly on your head.

“No marks.” He groaned as you nipped a bit harder at the skin. Oh how badly you wanted to mark his perfect porcelain skin, but you knew better than to disobey. Pulling away you let his shirt fall back down, hooking your fingers in the band of his underwear. Tugging them down, you let the fabric join his pants on the ground.

You take him in one hand, pressing a thumb against his leaking tip resulting in a low groan to tear through his lips. Spitting in your palm you replace your other hand, rubbing up and down his shaft. Your saliva and his precum allow your movements to become fluid. His hand gripped the back of your vanity chair, knuckles turning white. You bring your head closer and lick a stripe up his cock, eyes flickering up watching as his head falls back soft moan-like sighs leaving his lips. Swirling your tongue around his tip, the taste of precum tingled in your mouth causing you to hum softly, making the volume of his moans increase. “Fuck princess, stop- fuck, stop teasing.”

Releasing his vice-like grip on the chair, Sunghoon gathers your hair into a makeshift ponytail. Looking down he’s met with your lust-filled gaze, his breath hitching in his throat at the sight. Your face was painted a beautiful shade of red and your pretty pink lips wrapped around his cock. He groans when you take him deeper, his hold on your hair tightening as his hips buck forward into your throat, making you gag at the sudden intrusion.

“Hmm fuck baby,” He hums as he thrusts his hips forward once again shivering at the feeling of your throat contracting around him. You focus your breathing through your nose, allowing him to take charge. His head falls back again, his pace picking up causing tears to prick in the corner of your eyes, your nails digging into the skin of his thighs.

“Why talk about my wife, when- fuck, when you can just suck my cock like the little slut you are.” He growls, picking up his pace once more taking the air right out of your lungs as you hum around him. Your thighs and knees burning in protest from sitting in the same position for so long, but the sight of him getting lost in the feeling of your throat was enough for you to want to endure it.

“Shit…” Sunghoon suddenly pulled out of your mouth, afraid that he’d cum then and there. Tugging on your hair, enough for a whine to fall from your swollen lips. “Get up.” his raspy tone instantly had you swooning as you scrambled back to your feet. He kicked his pants and underwear off his ankles. Latching his lips to yours, he groaned at the taste of himself on your tongue. He pushes you back until your lower back hits the vanity behind you, lips trailing down your neck as he picks you up, setting you on the surface.

Your fingers comb through his hair as he sucks on the hot skin of your neck, his canines scraping across your pulse point have a shiver going down your spine. He could feel your heart rate accelerate under his lips as he colored your skin in shades of reds and purples.

“Hoon, wait- fuck!” You exclaim as he bites down on the junction of your shoulder and neck, the stinging makes your head spin.

“You’re mine.” He growled against your skin, fingers undoing your robe. You both know that wasn’t true, you would never truly be his, he was married and you’d rather be buried six feet under before committing to a serious relationship. But just for the night, you’d pretend.

“My little slut to ruin.” His lips latched back on yours in a fervent kiss, teeth clashing, drool seeping from the corner of your lips. Your finger worked in a rush to undo his white button-up, desperate to feel his skin on you. Once the shirt was undone you ran your fingers down his torso, nails scraping his skin softly.

His lips never left your skin as he pushed the robe off of your shoulders, letting it lay on the table behind you, fingers tracing the lace fabric of the underwear set you had changed into. A low groan fell from his lips as he leaned down by your ear, “You’re fucking insatiable.”

You whine as he squeezed one of your boobs, harshly before letting his fingers trailed down, parting your thighs further. He pulled away to watch as your eyes pleaded with him to touch you.

“Hoon, please.” You squirm under his touch as his finger brushes over your core.

“Please what princess?” He smirked, enjoying the way your eyebrows scrunched together in desperation, your fingers wrapped loosely around his forearm while the other gripped the table underneath you.

“Touch me please,” A soft moan slipped past your lips as he ghosted over your clothed clit before whining when he took his hand back to your thigh.

“But I am touching you.” Frustration bubbled in your chest as you gazed up at him, the want to smack that smirk off his face was strong, but not as strong as the want of his fingers in you. “You mean like this?” He traced the area right before where you really wanted him, you whined, grip tightening on his arm.

“God dammit Sunghoon, just fuck me with your fingers please!” You exclaim and before you could even blink his other hand wrapped around your throat, limiting your oxygen supply.

“You better watch your fucking tone princess.” His lips ghost over your own as his other hand moves to cup your heat making you let out a choked moan. His fingers press against your clothed cunt feeling you soak your underwear further, “you’re so wet baby, fuck.”

The lack of proper oxygen and his teasing touch was making your head spin. Sunghoon kissed you deeply as he moved your underwear to the side, feeling your warm and slick folds. You whimper against his lips as his thumb finds your clit, circling it sharply.

“Only I can make you this wet, not those other assholes out there, me.” He growled as he inserted his finger into you and you cried out, back arching and nails digging into his skin. Your head was spinning, everything becoming overwhelming. He let go of your neck allowing you to breathe properly before finding purchase on your hip as he worked his finger in and out of you.

“Fuck… Hoon,” Moans fell from your lips as he pushed another finger into your sopping pussy, picking up his pace. Your head falls back in pure bliss allowing Sunghoon to latch his lips to your neck once more.

Sunghoon relished in your scent and the way you wrapped around his fingers so perfectly knowing that he would have to stop soon, his dick painfully hard and he wanted to be in you. Tilting your head back up you cupped his face with your free hand, bringing his attention to your already fucked out expression.

“Hoon-” You were cut off as his fingers brushed over your sweet spot causing a loud moan to tear through your lips. He smirked devilishly as he kissed the corner of your lips.

“What were you saying, baby?” He teased as he abused your sweet spot, pulling you closer and closer to your release.

“Please, Hoon, I need you, so bad.” You were growing too impatient and quite frankly so was he.

“Need my cock princess?” He teased, watching as you nodded your head furiously, lips caught between your teeth. Pulling his drenched fingers out of your pussy making you whine softly before he wrapped his arm around your waist pulling you to your feet.

Your legs felt like jelly and if Sunghoon hadn’t been holding on to you, you surely would have fallen to your knees. Before you could even process it Sunghoon had you turned around and bent over the surface of the vanity.

“Now be a good girl and watch as I fuck you.” His finger trailed up the back of your thigh before grabbing a handful of your ass. You hummed loving the feeling of his warm skin on you, eyes fluttering shut.

A cry left your lips, eyes snapping open at the sudden sting on your asscheek. “What did I say, princess?” Sunghoon rubbed the red skin with his thumb, eyes meeting yours in the mirror.

Pushing your underwear to the side once more, lining his cock up with your entrance, eyes never leaving yours even as he slid in with a sudden thrust. A loud cry was torn from your lungs, head fell down at the sudden feeling.

Sunghoon grabbed a fistful of your hair, yanking your head up and making you look in the mirror. He didn’t give you a chance to fully adjust before he started thrusting his hips at a fast pace, grip tight on both your hair and hip. The movement had your eyes rolling as broken moans fell from your lips.

“Such a good girl, taking my cock like the slut you are.” Sunghoon chuckles, ramming his hips into yours, driving his cock deeper into your pussy eliciting moans from you.

“H…hoon.” You whine out, reaching behind you, nails digging into the skin of his hip. He hissed before releasing your hip, grabbing your wrist instead. Pulling until your back arched and a pornographic moan left your mouth.

Tears blurred your vision as you tried your hardest to keep looking in the mirror like he told you to, but the pleasure was just becoming too much. Letting your head hang, you whimper as Sunghoon pulls your head right back up.

“Am I fucking you that good that you can’t even listen?” He mocks with a smug smirk, hand leaving your hair to wrap around your neck, pulling your body flush against his as he keeps up with the animalistic pace. A gasp escapes your parted lips at the change, almost doubling over when the head of his cock brushes over your sweet spot.

“‘S too deep-'' Another cry cuts you off as Sunghoon’s fingers find your clit, abusing the small bundle of nerves. Your eyes roll to the back of your head, falling back on his shoulder.

“Fuck- you’re squeezing my dick so tight.” He groaned, feeling his climax creeping up, he knew he wouldn’t last much longer, but he’ll be damned if you don’t cum before him. Picking up the pace of his fingers on your clit had you crying out again.

“Hoon-””Don’t worry princess, I’ll fill your sweet pussy so good, knock you up maybe so everyone knows your mine.” His words didn’t register in your foggy mind, your ears ringing as you felt so close.

With one final thrust of his hips, your orgasm washed over you like a tidal wave, soaking his cock that still pounded into your abused hole. He groaned as you tightened around him like a vice, his orgasm right there.

“Too much…” You whined, grabbing his hand that had left your clit, now on your hip.

“Just a bit more, I’m almost there.” His once deep and husky voice came out almost whiney as he continued to thrust harshly, throwing you into overstimulation. “I’mma fill you to the brim,” He bit down on your shoulder and you clamped down on him, tipping him over the edge. A loud groan leaves his lips as he pumps his hot, thick cum into you, filling you to the brim just as he promised.

His hips slowed to a stop and he released your throat, wrapping his arms around your body encasing you in his warmth. The room was filled with heavy breathing as you both came down from your highs. Sunghoon whispered sweet nothings in your ear as you held onto his forearm.

You wished you could stay like this forever, in his warmth, his scent, his touch, his taste, stuffed by him, but…

Your thoughts were cut off as a shrilling ringing filled the room, reminding you that this was the end. It was probably a good thing because again he was married and you’d rather be caught dead before falling in love again. Yet here you are hoping for just a few more minutes with him.

He really was going to have you six feet under.

@alvojake | Do not steal, plagiarise, translate, or repost any of my work

𝖉𝖎𝖘𝖈𝖑𝖆𝖎𝖒𝖊𝖗 : ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ɴᴏ ᴡᴀʏ ᴀ ᴛʀᴜᴇ ʀᴇᴘʀᴇꜱᴇɴᴛᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ᴏꜰ ᴀɴʏ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀꜱ. ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ᴘᴜʀᴇʟʏ ꜰɪᴄᴛɪᴏɴ ᴀɴᴅ ꜰᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏᴍᴇɴᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ ɴᴏᴛ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ᴛᴀᴋᴇɴ ꜱᴇʀɪᴏᴜꜱʟʏ.

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catopoliscat · 29 days

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next time / kento nanami/fem!reader.

who would have thought that kento nanami was a virgin? not you. not after this long. perhaps he was saving himself for someone. perhaps he was waiting for you.

tags: nsfw. 18+. fem!reader. afab reader. penetrative sex. alcohol. dry humping. virgin!nanami. mutual pining. friends to lovers. creampie (wrap it kids). unprotected sex. touch-starved!nanami. canon!verse. you've known nanami since school. tinges of angst. nanami wanted you bad lmao. it's love babey. reader has experience. no use of y/n or any other placeholders. ever. wc: 7.7k. a/n: i kind of fear nanami's a little ooc here lmao, but i've spent too long on this so fuck it we ball he deserves this

also how mad would you be if i said this was set a week before shibuya arc be honest

mdni.

You’re a bottle and half of zinfandel deep when Nanami tells you.

Although you’re both a little warm, tipsy perhaps, you didn’t think either of you were quite drunk enough for this conversation just yet. It was a regular occurrence for the two of you to share a drink on a Friday, or a bottle in more pressing times.

There were more bottles than glasses, lately.

It was just two old friends, catching up. Talking. Complaining--usually about Satoru. Often you’d reminisce on easier times. Warm summers in the Jujutsu High courtyard, the cold tin of a soda in your hands, a bottle of water in his. Quiet talks of dreams and eventualities. Ignoring the gaping absence of a third at between you.

Tonight though, you’re not sure when the topic had changed. Somewhere between the last dregs of the first bottle and the beginning of the second, the conversation had grown more sombre than usual. Talk of love and relationships always seemed to make the air heavier around the two of you, for different reasons. A stark air of loneliness that not even the most tart of white wine could overpower.

You had offhandedly mentioned turning down one of the windows you had met on your last mission. He had been younger than you, still full of life where the holes in yourself had long since emptied it out. You had shaken your head, flattered, but tired. There were better options for a man like him, still full of hope and vitality, a whole life ahead of him… when you knew any day yours could be cut deftly short.

You had told yourself it had little to do with the fact that the man’s bright smile had reminded you of another, so many years ago.

In the quiet of Nanami’s living room, swirling the last drops of your wine in your glass, you had mentioned that you had no real desire for relationships anymore. Other than sex, of course, but only sexual. A temporary release, one of the few you had left. Nameless faces and hurried touches. Sometimes clinical, sometimes primal. Always quick, and never the same person twice.

You know?

To which Nanami had replied, “No.”

Misunderstanding the gravity of what he was saying, you had raised an eyebrow, a curious smile playing at your lips. “Not one for one-night stands?”

It occurs to you distantly that you don’t know a lot about Nanami’s romantic life. Close as you two were, or so you liked to believe, he had never really mentioned it. And you had never asked.

Nanami had shook his head in response to your question, and you had nodded. It aligned with his character, you thought. As cold and stoic as he liked to act, you couldn’t imagine a world where he would use and discard someone. He felt too much, cared too much. He would love too much too, if given the chance. If he gave himself the chance.

In your musings, you had almost missed what he had murmured next.

“I’ve never had sex at all.”

Kento Nanami. A virgin.

The confession has your lips parting, your eyes blinking. Once, then twice, akin to an owl. You glance down at your wine glass for a moment, as if it had been the slightly smeared glass that had been speaking to you instead, and not the esteemed stoic sorcerer you had known for the better part of ten years.

You look over at Nanami on the couch, but he’s staring at the carpet, his expression contemplative, almost pensive. His brows are drawn taut, a small knit on his forehead. His lips are drawn into a thin line, a slight crease in his chin. There was a specific emotion dancing in his eyes. You almost dared to use the word vulnerable.

It seems… ridiculous. Nanami? Attractive as he was? Kind, considerate, hard-working, to a degree. A woman’s dream. In another life, perhaps your dream too.

Had it not been for Nanami’s serious demeanour, and the fact that ‘joke’ and ‘Nanami’ rarely went together in the same sentence, you might have thought he was pulling your leg. A joke between friends.

But he wasn’t. He very clearly wasn’t.

“That’s… fine,” you finally say after a small moment, fearing you had let the silence linger too long. “There’s no rush for these things.”

Nanami’s hum is short and clipped. Gruff, almost. He still refuses to meet your eye for now, and you make no move to change that. You get the distinct feeling that this newfound vulnerability doesn’t stem from him never having sex, but rather, the reason why he’s denied himself - because you know for a fact it has little to do with opportunity.

You had lost track of how many women you had watched Nanami turn down, clipped and short, yet always polite.

The silence is heavy between you. In the other room, you can hear the hum of his refrigerator, the buzz of the bulbs in the lights. Nanami’s apartment has always been quiet, but this silence feels suffocating. Paired with the wine, your head feels thick, your tongue thicker.

A few moments pass, and as the revelation of his virginity settles into your stomach like seltzer water, you realise… it makes sense. Nanami wasn’t the type to use someone for sex, even if eager. He’d only have sex with someone he was in love with. Someone he trusted at the very least.

And Nanami, as he had told you and a few others before, refused to entertain the thought of love whilst he was a sorcerer. No one with two working brain cells needed to ask why. He wasn’t alone in that choice, either.

You toy with the stem of your wineglass whilst you toy with a reoccurring thought in your mind, one that you entertained often, but had yet to voice aloud.

“You shouldn’t keep depriving yourself, Kento,” you say quietly. The use of his first name, rarely used in your adulthood, garners you a glance from him. It’s a small sign that you’re taking this seriously.

“I’m not deprived of anything.”

You scoff at that, small and quiet. “You deprive yourself of a lot, apart from pain,” you drawl, setting your wine glass down on the coffee table. Like always, the wine and Nanami’s masochistic tendencies have your tongue loosening more than it should. “I understand not wanting to have sex with anyone you’re not in a committed relationship with. It’s kind of… admirable, and definitely you.” You fold your arms across your chest, fixing him with a stare that he still refuses to meet head-on. “But why deny yourself the chance of love?”

In the back of your mind somewhere is a voice chanting ‘hypocrite’, but you ignore it. Nanami, however, does not.

He finally turns his head to face you, the lines underneath his eyes seemingly heavier in the dim light of his apartment. An eyebrow arches. “And meaningless sex is different?”

You scoff again, louder this time. “It’s not meaningless just because I don’t love my partner.”

“Or even know their name?”

You raise a sharp eyebrow, your own lips now pressing into a thin line. A part of you wants to retort, to snap, but you remember the vulnerability in his face from a few moments ago, and you just about hold your tongue.

With an exhale, you grab the half-empty wine bottle off of the coffee table instead and gesture for Nanami to hold out his glass. He does, and the glug of the wine fills the space between you.

“You ever thought about it?” You ask, filling up your own glass. In your peripheral, you see him sit quietly for a moment before he nods his head.

“I’m only human.”

You hum. “You should experience it,” you add. You swirl the wine in your glass once before bringing it up to your lips. “Even once. Even if it means nothing.”

With one glance, you can tell immediately that the idea doesn’t sit right with him. It was easy to forget sometimes how rigid and traditional he could be. Formalities that few seemed to care about these days. Always on the things you least expected.

“I couldn’t,” Nanami replies, shaking his head.

Oddly, you feel the desire to insist. Days of a sorcerer were short, and getting shorter every year. Younger than yourself and Nanami had already died long before they would ever have the opportunity to touch another, kiss another; to feel the warmth of a body against your own. They would never know what that distinct pleasure was like, even if they desperately wanted to. Time was infinite to the young, until it wasn’t.

It occurs to you quickly that you’re thinking of Haibara, and everything you and Nanami had experienced that he never would.

Something must show in your expression because Nanami raises an eyebrow at you. You swallow, before setting your glass back down on the coffee table with a dull clink. You look at him, your face surprisingly collected and casual for what you’re about to ask.

“What about me?”

Nanami’s questioning look only deepens for a moment, before something passes by his eyes. His lips part, his version of a falter. You know he knows what you’re implying, but still, he asks, “…what about you?”

“What if we had sex?” You say without hesitation. “You know me. You trust me.”

Nanami falters further. He straightens in his seat, his glass resting on his thigh, the thick muscle straining against his slacks. His whole body is thick with a tension you usually only see before a fight with a particularly highly graded curse. A vein protrudes from his neck.

His eyes flick between your face and your own glass, clearly wondering if it is time to call this night done, but you rise from your seat before he can, taking a small step toward the couch he’s sitting on.

You sit down next to him, a little closer than you usually might. He doesn’t move away. Your thigh brushes against his, and this close, you can hear his breath hitch in response.

“I’m not going to push this any further, Kento,” you say quietly, “but I’m letting you know it’s an option.”

Although you and Kento were hardly affectionate with one another like most friends, you decided to take a chance tonight. You had already taken several, what was one more?

Reaching out, you take his glass from his hand and set it next to yours on the coffee table. Hesitating only a moment, you place your hand on top of his, your fingers curling around until your fingertips touch his palm.

His hand is stiff and warm underneath your own. The bones and knuckles press against your skin.

Something in the back of your mind is wondering why you’re pushing this at all. Would it matter if Nanami died without experiencing the pleasures of the body, really? Would the world stop turning for either of you? You know if Nanami really wanted to, if he felt the want, the desire - then he could leave this apartment right now and find someone willing, someone other than you. He could have done so years ago, during those few years he had masqueraded as a normal human being with a nine-to-five.

You were risking a friendship over… what? The implied hopes and dreams of a dead fifteen-year-old? Haibara was dead. It didn’t matter to him whether Nanami experienced the things he never could.

Nanami’s gaze flickers between your eyes for a moment, and this close, you can see the faint traces of the wine staining his lips. Your gaze must linger for a touch too long because his tongue swipes across his bottom lip. The pink skin glistens with the faint glimmer of his saliva.

When you look up, you see his eyes trained on your own lips, before they quickly flick back up to meet your eyes.

“We’re friends,” he murmurs, his voice low, slightly thick.

“And we always will be,” you reply.

He glances down at your hands. Somewhere between your own thoughts and Nanami’s reiteration of your friendship, your hands had interlocked, fingers intertwined like vines. He was gripping your hand a little too tightly to be comfortable, but you didn’t flinch.

You’re not sure whether it had been your subconscious doing, or his.

“I… can’t,” Nanami mutters finally, closing his eyes for a moment. “Not like this. Not… now.”

Something clenches in your heart at his rejection, although you had expected it. You’re not sure if it’s because he’s denying you, or himself.

You smile softly nonetheless and nod. “If you ever change your mind, you know where to find me,” you say quietly, going to pull your hand from his grip and give him some space.

Only he doesn’t let go. If anything, his grip tightens slightly.

Your eyes flick between his hand and his eyes, still trained on your face. You raise an eyebrow, your lips parting to speak, but he beats you to it.

“But I’d like to kiss you.”

Something resembling a very quiet ‘uh’ pushes past your lips in a long exhale.

You’re not sure why the idea of kissing him felt more… intimate than the fact that you had offered your body to him only seconds prior. You’re not sure why there’s a prickle of heat at the back of your neck or your lips burn with a sudden need.

“Nanam-“

As if remembering himself, he shakes his head slightly, blinking away whatever stupor had just possessed him. He looks away, his grip on your hand loosening, but not quite pulling away.

“I… don’t know why I said that,” he mumbles. “You should go-“

Your free hand is already gripping his chin, turning his face toward yours a little too sharply. A subtle grunt leaves his throat as he looks at you, his gaze foggier than usual. From the wine, you, or the whole situation? Who knows.

Fingers against his neck, feeling the quickened thrum of his pulse, your thumb brushes against his chin, pulling the skin until his lips naturally part. You feel Nanami’s shaky exhale against your lips as you lean forward, warmth breath mingling with yours, the scent of wine heavy on the air.

You close the distance slowly, giving him time to stop this, to pull or push away. To draw an end to this nonsense before it went any further.

Instead of pulling back or pushing you away, he closes the gap so quickly your noses almost bump together.

The first press of his lips against you feels hurried and unsure. It’s off-center slightly, barely hitting the corner of your mouth, but Nanami is quick to correct it. He slots his lips against yours more firmly the second time, his lips parting to capture yours fully. You feel a rush of air against your cheek as he exhales through his nose.

The kiss is unhurried, curious almost, yet there’s a subtle urgency in it that surprises you. Your free hand moves from his chin to his jaw, fingertips softly caressing the sharp curve of it. The sound and feel of his sigh against your lips makes you shiver, and you become enamoured with it.

Enamoured with him.

You part your lips further, your tongue swiping against his bottom lip, finally tasting the remnants of the wine that you had spotted earlier. An odd sound builds at the back of his throat before his mouth parts too, his tongue brushing against yours.

Something changes quickly then. His hand, larger than you ever really noticed, cups the back of your neck, his calloused thumb pressing against your jaw, drawing you closer. Your other hands, still intertwined, seem to tighten around one another like a snake's coils. The wet smacks of your lips grow louder in the quiet of his apartment, just about overriding the sound of increasingly ragged breaths, borderline panting.

Your head feels thick. Dizzy. The kiss is indulgent, almost sloppy now. Nanami’s tongue is in your mouth, exploring every crevice, tasting you with an eagerness you hadn’t thought he was capable of. Every time you brush your tongue against his, your taste buds wetly sliding against his own, a small sound rumbles in the back of his throat, somewhere between a groan and grumble.

After a moment that feels like an eternity too short, you pull back slightly, just enough to see his eyes as you open yours. Nanami denies you this, however, because when you open your eyes, his are still closed, almost scrunched. A faint frown tugs at his brow.

He leans forward until his forehead rests against yours. The heat of his skin against yours feels searing, your noses softly brushing against one another’s. He sighs deeply, as if pulled from the back of his chest. It almost sounds like defeat.

“Kento-“

“I want you,” he breathes out, and your voice almost hitches as you feel rather than hear his voice. It’s a deep, husky sound, more rumble than syllable. But there’s a crack in his tone belying a raw vulnerability that you weren’t familiar with. Not from him.

His eyes finally open, looking up at you from underneath his brow. His hazel eyes are almost black, you realise, the familiar colour you’ve always admired swallowed up by a sea of coal. You wonder if yours are the same.

He’s trembling too. You can feel his fingertips shake where they press against the nape of your neck.

“I thought you didn’t want… this,” you murmur. ‘Sex’ suddenly feels too…

“I changed my mind,” he replies, a touch too quickly for you to believe that he was thinking clearly.

But God, did you want him too. You want him so fucking bad it almost makes you ache. Your feelings toward Nanami had always been friendly, respectful. He had been your closest friend, your ally, your confidant. You had been through so much together. You liked him, every part.

And somewhere along the way, between the four years apart as he pursued a different life and the first time you had hugged him when he finally returned, Gojo grinning over his shoulder… you think, that like had changed to love.

It quickly occurs to you that you weren’t pushing Nanami to experience sex for fear of him missing out. That was you. You were scared of missing out on him.

It’s that revelation that makes you pull back slightly, and Nanami’s eyes widen a little, some of the hazy fog clearing. His hand slides from the back of your neck, falling limply against the couch next to your thigh.

“I… I shouldn’t have put you in this position,” you mutter, glancing away, staring at the two wine glasses on the coffee table before looking back at him. “It’s your choice. Your first time should be on your terms, not because I think you’re missing out or depriving yourself.”

You go to remove your hand from his, but once again, his grip tightens, but there’s a tenderness to it this time. A gentle squeeze, almost begging you not to go. Not yet.

He looks serious now, staring at you squarely, as if about to deliver a mission report, and its the first familiar expression you’ve seen on his face thus far. He swallows thickly, the only thing belying his hesitation.

“I said I couldn’t have a one-night stand.”

You frown. “And th-“

“I don’t want this to be a one-night stand.”

Some of the breath flees your lungs as you look at him. His lips are still pink and slightly swollen from kissing, his cheeks still slightly flushed from the wine and your touch. You become distinctly aware of the scent of his cologne, faded but warm from his skin. It’s soft, smoky almost. You have the urge to bury his nose in the crook of his neck and breathe.

You know what he’s trying to say, what he’s trying to ask. You know what he wants because you want it too. You realise you’ve wanted it for a long damn time.

Words fail you. They feel… inadequate to describe what you’re feeling, what you desire, what you’ve always desired buried down underneath the guilt and trauma.

But you still can’t bring yourself to say it out loud. Not here. Not yet.

And neither can he.

You’re not sure who makes the first move, all you know is that your lips are pressed against his and he moans into your mouth as if something had finally let go. It’s like a cork had finally been released, a lifetime of pent-up feelings pouring out in one gush.

His hand is back at the nape of your neck, holding you tightly this time, unwilling to let go. His lips part more readily with every press, his tongue seeking yours with a pinpoint determination. You skip his jaw this time altogether, aiming straight for his hair that you’ve been dying to touch since… you don’t know when.

The hand that had been holding yours hostage finally releases, only so his fingers can brush against your waist. His fingers brush against your ribs through your clothes, tugging you closer until you’re rising up onto your knees on the couch just to oblige. He’s tilting back, his broad shoulders bumping against the couch cushions behind him - and it’s only distantly you register it’s because you’re pushing him back against it.

Something shouts at you in the back of your mind to take your time, to savour this, to savour him. You may want each other badly, but this is Nanami’s first time. It should be done carefully, respectfully, the way he would treat you if this position had been reversed.

But then Nanami’s hand has moved from your waist to your thigh, blindly grabbing it as he pulls it over his lap. Before you know it, you’re straddling his hips with a huff against his lips, and something like a sharp, pained groan leaves his lips.

You pull away from his lips with a ragged breath, concern knitting your brow until you realise what the cause of his groan was.

Straddling him, you can feel the pulse of his desire underneath you, the hard ridge of the bulge in his pants pressing insistently against your core through your own clothes. One hand is grabbing your hip tightly, almost too tight, as his forehead rests against your shoulder. The other hand is on your thigh, his thumb digging into the plush flesh there.

His breathing is ragged, extremely so. Hot puffs fall against your skin. You weave your fingers through his hair softly, and you watch with reverence as a strong shudder rolls down his spine in response.

“We can stop, if you’d like,” you murmur against his ear, going to rise up on your knees to give him a little breathing room.

“Don’t,” he grunts, the grip on your hip and thigh quickly stopping you. He exhales again, a shaky sound as he keeps his forehead stamped against your shoulder. His voice emerges again, barely audible, slightly pained. “...I’ve wanted this for so long.”

Your grip in his hair tightens in response. In a flood, memories of him rush through your mind. A thousand different glances, subtle touches, small clues. Even in school, the way he would linger, a touch closer every time Suguru or Satoru would appear. The hand at the bottom of your back in a restaurant. The way he would lean in to hear you in a crowded place.

The way his arms had tightened around you when he had returned after four years away. I missed you too, almost inaudible against your ear.

Nanami didn’t want a one-night stand. What was the point of sex at all, if it wasn’t with you?

The thought has you rolling your hips down against his before you can stop yourself, feeling the firm length of his cock grind against your core. A moan leaves your lips, and something guttural leaves his.

The hand on your thigh moves up to your other hip, pulling you down tighter against him as if he could slide inside you right now. “Don’t tease,” he hisses between clenched teeth. He turns his head slightly, his lips brushing against your neck. He leaves a searing, open-mouthed kiss against your pulse point. “Not now, not after this long.”

“You think you’re the only one who waited?” You pant as you grind again, firmer this time. His hips buck against yours in response, a muffled groan leaving his lips, imprinted against your neck. You can feel his cock throb against you, twitching against the fabric that separates you.

“…you wanted this too?” He breathes out after a moment.

You nod, though you doubt he can see it from the way his face is buried against the crook of your neck. “Since you came back. Since you hugged me back and said you missed me.”

His hands move from your hips to wrap tightly around your waist as if he couldn’t bear for a single slither of space to be left between you two. His hips jut up against you once again, a ragged breath leaving his lips. It seems the idea of you wanting him for so long the same as he had the same effect on him as it had on you. If not more.

He holds you a little tighter, running the sharp point of his nose along your throat as he tilts his head up. Finally, finally, he breaks free of your neck to look up at you, lips parted, eyes almost desperate.

With a thick swallow, Adam’s apple bobbing, he goes to say something but falters, and murmurs your name instead. His dark eyes flick between your eyes and your lips. His cock twitches underneath you.

“Please,” is all he can croak out, and the moan that almost leaves your lips would have been primal.

You nod your head, giving his shoulders a small squeeze, pushing him back slightly. He seems reluctant to let go, but finally relents after a little insistence, reclining back against the couch. His arms unwind and his hands drop to your hips. He looks up at you, clearly waiting for your lead.

You sit back slightly on his parted thighs, the muscles firm and supportive underneath you. Letting your hands fall from his shoulders, you drag your fingertips slowly down over the expanse of his chest, feeling the warmth of his skin through his wrinkled shirt. As your fingers skate over his abdomen, you feel the muscles flex and roll. Nanami looks at you readily.

“We should do this properly,” you murmur, your eyes trained on the lower buttons of his shirt, near the waistband of his slacks. “In a bed.”

Nanami, to your surprise, shakes his head quickly, giving your hips a small squeeze. “We’ve waited long enough.”

You raise an eyebrow but don’t disagree. Despite the need, the ache, the pulse of your own core, you can’t help but think of if the positions were reversed. The image of candles, roses and soft music fills your mind, Nanami’s guiding hands and murmured praises. It would be slow and romantic. Perfect.

“Nanami,” you breathe out, almost chastising. With the way his cock is pressing against you, you have no doubt he’s not thinking clearly right now; the thought of having what he had wanted for so long within his grasp clouding rational thought.

He shakes his head again, a lock of his mussed hair tickling his brow. “Next time.” He shifts, sliding down the couch a little more and spreading his thighs - and in turn, spreading yours. He grips your hips tighter, pulling you a little closer until you’re seated right on top of him. “Next time,” he repeats in a groan. “We’ll go slow. I’ll explore every inch of you, taste you. Now, I just want…” He exhales an unsteady breath, sounding like your name. “I just want you.”

Your fingers linger near his shirt's lower button, and one of Nanami’s hands unclasps itself from your hip to gently grasp your wrist. He guides your fingertips to the belt buckle, the metal cool against your hot fingers.

You meet his eyes once more, and his gaze is a paradox of firmness and vulnerability. He’s nervous, you think, but ready. Almost desperately so.

Without another word, your other hand reaches down to join your other one, and your fingers are surprisingly deft as you slide the leather through the metal. Nanami watches your hands with rapt attention until the belt is loose. Your fingers slide over the metal button of his slacks, and you don’t check in this time. You pop it open before sliding his zipper down, the crackle of the metal teeth as loud as a gunshot between you.

A small sigh of what you think is relief leaves his lips as the fabric parts, giving you a small glimpse of the dark boxers underneath, straining over his cock. A small wet patch blooms at the top, wear his tip would be, and a shudder runs through you.

Your fingers tuck into the waistband of his underwear, lingering for a moment. You look up at him at the same time he looks up at you. Without a sound, Nanami lifts his hips and you rise up to your knees.

With a few firm tugs, you manage to inch his slacks and boxers down enough to free him. A small huff leaves his lips as the cooler air of the apartment hits his overheated flesh, and you watch in rapt attention as his cock twitches, the flushed tip glistening already.

It’s longer than you expected. Thicker too. Uncut. A prominent vein runs up the underside of it, and you have the sudden urge to follow it with your finger, or your tongue.

Nanami shifts underneath you, and you realise you’ve been staring a touch too long.

You pull your eyes away from his cock to meet his eyes, and his breathing seemed to have quickened. Anticipation is making him stiff, almost antsy, a rare sight on a man you’ve rarely ever seen anything of other than composed.

It’s endearing.

Reaching down, you satisfy your own urge and run your fingertip up his shaft, following the vein, feeling it pulse steadily to the rhythm of his heart. Nanami’s hips twitch, his eyelids fluttering. Dark eyelashes tickle his cheeks.

When you curl your fingers around him, gripping him firmly at the base, his eyes shoot open, snapping to the sight of him in your palm. You give him one pull upwards, and a bead of pre-cum wells in the divot of his slit.

“Fuck,” comes out in a very quiet, gruff choke. Your eyebrows rise in surprise, a small smile on your lips. Nanami didn’t always curse, and especially not like that.

“Language, Nanami,” you tease, and his eyes flick up to you, something indignant and impatient in his eyes. You usually weren’t one to tease, and he wasn’t one to be teased.

You continue to stroke him slowly for a moment, rubbing your thumb against the sensitive tip. You fingers quickly become tacky, the glide of your hand more fluid, until the lewd wet noise starts to rise to the same level as Nanami’s breathing. He grunts with every upward stroke, his hips twitching underneath you. Had it not been for your weight on top of him, you get the distinct feeling he’d be bucking up into your palm a little more eagerly. His head falls back against the couch, lips parted, his eyes fluttering closed once more as he relaxes more into the sensation.

It occurs to you that you’ve seldom seen Nanami this relaxed.

“Are you sure you want to do this here?” you ask, “with me on top?”

He nods but doesn’t open his eyes. His hands run up from your hips to your waist, a soft caress. “It’ll be… easier for me- hah-“ Another choked groan leaves his lips as you give the head of his cock a small squeeze, and Nanami’s hand flies to your wrist in a blink, stopping you from making another move.

You feel his cock throbbing in your grasp, and Nanami’s straight-up panting now, his eyes slightly wild as he tilts his head up to look at you. It’s an arousing reality to know that you had just pushed Nanami dangerously close to the edge without even meaning to.

“I won’t last,” he murmurs, looking up at you, his eyes shining.

You realise quickly that he’s actually asking a question. Are you sure?

“This time,” you reply with a small smile. With his hand still around your wrist, you give his cock another squeeze, and he grits his teeth, that vein in his neck protruding once more. You can see the taut muscles in his abdomen flexing from where his shirt has bunched up.

As much as the idea of making Nanami cum, right here, right now, appeals to you, you relent for now. You’d love nothing more than to watch him spill into your palm, to see the euphoria and bliss play out on his face… but that was for another time. The next time, perhaps.

You release his cock, letting it fall back against his lower stomach with a dull smack, making him hiss through his teeth. Leaning forward, you brush your lips against his throat, nipping at the skin softly.

You guide his hands to the waistband of your own bottoms, and he wastes little time in following your unspoken order. The press of your lips against his throat clearly distracts him, but he manages to pull down your clothes enough to leave you in your underwear. You kick them off the sofa haphazardly, not leaving his neck for a single moment.

He catches you off guard when his hand immediately dives for your sex, cupping your heat through the dampened fabric. You stutter against his neck, gripping onto his shoulders for support in response.

Your eyelids close, goosebumps erupting across your skin as you feel just how wet you are. “Nanami,” you gasp.

“Kento,” he whispers quickly. Once, then twice, he rubs his palm along your clothed pussy, something guttural building in the back of his throat as you buck down into his touch. “You’re… so wet.”

The wet spot on the fabric clings tightly to your folds, doing very little to dampen the sensation of his touch. His fingers are exploratory, a tentativeness that belies his lack of experience with this, but his touch, the fact it’s him, here and now, makes up for it all.

You can’t remember the last time you enjoyed a touch such as this. Not like this.

Despite toying with Nanami’s cock until he almost burst, hypocritical impatience gets the better of you, and you remove your hand from his shoulders to tug down your own underwear, kicking it off to join the growing pile on the floor. Bare from the waist down, Nanami’s eyes roam over the exposed skin almost hungrily.

Both calloused hands run up your thighs, pressing into the soft flesh slightly. You see his hand move for your pussy once more, but your fingers are curling back around his cock again before he can distract you.

Next time, keep parroting in your mind. Next time you can both endure hours of foreplay; touching, kissing, tasting, the whole nine yards. You promise to make him cry out before he even sinks inside you, to run your tongue along every inch of his skin until you’re sick of the taste of him. You’d know he’d do the same.

But you two had waited long enough.

Gripping the base of his cock again, you brush it up against your heat, your own slick smearing across him. Nanami’s eyes almost roll back into his head, but he closes his lids before you witness it. You’re faring little better, the mere sensation of having him against you like this, the tip of his cock rubbing up against your clit sending you dizzy. You angle your hips, and just feeling the thick head press against the tight, slick ring of muscle is enough for a moan to already tumble past your lips.

Something flickers in Nanami’s gaze as he opens his eyes again, honing in on the sight of you braced above him like this. He grips your hips, his touch light, merely supporting you for now. You look back once into his eyes, and go to check in just once more, but he leans forward, capturing your lips in a kiss that’s little more than teeth and raw need.

His lips pressed against yours, you sink down, the wider head of his cock slipping inside you. Your lips part in a soundless gasp against his mouth, swallowing the ragged groan that leaves his throat. The stretch is slightly more than you’re prepared for. Distantly, you think, skipping foreplay wasn’t the wisest idea, but desperation, need, pushes you forward regardless.

So you sink down further, inch by inch, and as he slides deeper and deeper, his grip on your hips grows tighter and tighter, until the force of his fingers dulls the ache of his cock kissing your cervix.

“Oh, fuck,” you gasp as you finally bottom out, hips sitting on top of his. You realise you’re breathless, and that cowgirl might not have been the best position for taking someone of his size. Certainly not in one go, like you just had.

Nanami is fairing no better. His mouth is agape, his biceps trembling where he clings to you. He seems dazed, winded, panting into your mouth as his arms wind against you. He pulls you forward, and you both moan as his cock seems to slide just that little bit deeper.

You’re dizzy, strained, stretched out far more than you can ever remember being before. Your eyes are scrunched closed, your forehead knocking against his. Everything feels distant and muffled. It takes you a moment to realise Nanami’s muttering something repeatedly in fragmented gasps.

When you open your eyes, he’s looking at you almost panicked, his eyebrows knitted upward. His teeth are bared, gritted - and it’s now you notice that you’re clenching around him so tight that you’re not sure if you’re causing him more discomfort than pleasure.

You swallow thickly, trying to catch your breath. You’re flushed, prickly heat blooming across your chest and neck. You shift a little, and something pained rumbles from the back of Nanami’s chest in response.

“Do you want me to stop or-“

“Don’t,” he grunts, his fingers shaking against your back. “Don’t move.”

The throb of his cock inside you is insistent, and it takes everything in you not to clench tighter around him in response. You know he’s close, dangerously close, and as much as you want to rise up on your knees and slam yourself down on his cock until he’s begging you to stop, you clench your jaw and relax.

You bury your face in the crook of his neck, kissing his skin softly; small pecks and affectionate touches. He shivers, and his cock still pulses, but slowly, muscle by muscle, he relaxes too, ragged pants dissolving into hot, muted breaths. His arms around you loosen, holding now, not gripping.

“Tell me when you want me to move,” you whisper against his ear, pressing a small kiss to the lobe.

He nods, brushing his cheek against yours with a soft sigh. His hand moves from your back upward, until he cups the back of your head, drawing your lips back to his. It’s a soft kiss, loving; slow and sensual slides of wet skin mingling with gentle exhales. Before you know it, and before he says, you’re rolling your hips greedily, just grinding against him for now.

A guttural sound leaves his lips. His forehead feels hot and sticky pressed against yours like this, a strand of his hair tickling your cheek.

You feel his thighs shift, widening as far as the slacks still around his thighs can allow, feet planted more firmly into the carpet. The first roll of his hips is disjointed, off rhythm with your own, but the slight drag of his cock against your walls has you moaning brokenly. The second roll, a little more confident, has you pressing your hips down to meet it, and your back arches like a cat.

“Fuck yes,” you moan, your voice thick and throaty. You moan his name, wait for the third shallow thrust, and meet it. “You feel so fucking good.”

He looks up at you like you hung the stars, his eyes widening at the sound of his name tumbling past your lips like a fractured halo. He loses his rhythm, but you soon pick it back up for him, starting to use your thighs to slide more eagerly down his cock. It’s still shallow, Nanami’s arms around your waist preventing you from really going for it, but you’re unwilling to part from the closeness for now.

You bounce a few inches at a time, the dull clap of your hips and the lewd squelch of your hot cunt wrapped tight around him filling the air of the apartment. With each bounce, a grunt pushes out from his chest, hot breath fanning across your face.

Nanami, though inexperienced, starts to let his body guide him. His hips buck up to meet you more confidently, and the growing force of his movements has you keening, fingernails biting into his shoulders.

You look square into his hooded eyes, breath mingling, and see the flush across his skin, his lips glistening with saliva. You moan again, higher pitched this time, and Nanami’s next thrust has you jolting up a little, nose bumping against his. You clench around him again, and his brow knits together.

“S-Shit,” he pants, his hips starting to jolt more readily, pushing a little too forcefully into you, quickly losing his rhythm. “I’m not… I’m not going to last…” His movements quicken, grow more erratic, and you’re not even sure he realises. “… you’re so fucking… tight.”

The last part is little more than a throaty whisper, his voice cracking. You stop meeting his thrusts and instead, widen your stance, tighten your core, and let him take what he needs. The movement, though small, isn’t lost on him, and he looks up at you, emotion swimming heavily in his dark gaze.

He thrusts up grow more erratic, sloppier, something like a grunt leaving his mouth with every dull thwap of his hips against your ass. His arms tighten around you, fingertips pressing into your skin. A groan, a hiss, and a swallow. The couch creaks and strains.

“N-Next time - hah - next time… I want t-to feel you cum around me,” he pants, his arms starting to shake. “I’ll give you everything, anything, fuck, I-I’ll keep going until… until… God-“

He’s barely pulling out now, a mere inch is all he’s moving, the head of his cock bullying against the soft spot right next to your cervix. Choked, high-pitch moans are the only sounds you can make, and you distantly note you’ve never sounded like before. Not ever.

You’re getting there, you realise. Not quite close, and definitely not as close as him, but the way his cock fits inside you, the slap of his hips against you, the way he’s looking at you… it’s pushing you there fast.

But it’s not quite enough.

“I’m close,” he gasps. “I… where…”

“Inside,” you reply without hesitation. Something passes by his eyes, a small flicker of concern, perhaps, swimming in the sea of lust and arousal. You try to find your bearings enough to tell him it’s okay, you wouldn’t have taken him inside if you weren’t protected-

-but then his cock is twitching inside you, and Nanami is shaking, shaking underneath you, his thighs jolting, nearly bucking you off his lap altogether.

With one last slam of his hips against you, buried as deep as he could possibly ago, a long, primal groan leaves him. It’s deep, visceral, easily mistaken for something pained - and it might be the most divine fucking sound you’ve ever heard in your life.

He buries his face against your throat as his hips buck involuntarily a few times, and you shiver as you feel that familiar warmth bloom inside you. He’s giving you everything, or what feels like it. Your pussy flutters around him, and his fingertips press into you so tight you wouldn’t be surprised to see bruises.

His heart is hammering against your chest, the thump pounding even in your own chest. Ragged pants and a heavy quiet settles over the living room. His cock continues to twitch inside you, growing weaker with every thud of his heart.

Nanami doesn’t pull his head from your throat for a long while, his nose pressing into your skin as he pants against you.

After a moment, he finally swallows. “… I’m sorry,” he mutters. “I… I should have made you-“

“Shut up,” you murmur against his warm hair, breathing in the faint scent of sweat and his shampoo. He seems to get the picture, of what you were trying to say. He always did. “Next time,” you add anyway, just to be sure.

He lifts his head from your skin, looking up at you blearily. You smile fondly as you see his face again, the harsh lines on his brow and his eyes smoother now, no longer creased as they always seemed to be. He looks… so much younger, you think, like this. Relaxed. Sated.

You brush some of his sweaty hair out of his face, and his eyelids flutter at the brief contact. He seems exhausted, you think.

“I meant what I said,” he murmurs as he looks up at you. “I don’t want this to…” His palm moves against your back, sliding down your spine. “I want you. Properly. I always have.” He swallows. “Always.”

Your eyes soften. He looks at you expectantly, almost vulnerably.

“You have me,” you murmur in reply, finally. “Properly.”

A small smile tugs at his lips, and it’s warmer than you’ve ever seen before. Genuine. Light. It’s as if a decade of weight lifts from his broad shoulders, if only briefly.

He pulls you close once more, his lips pressing against yours softly, lovingly, and the world seems to fade away.

For now, of course.

masterlist.

#nanami x reader #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jjk x y/n #kento nanami x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #nanami #kento nanami

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wilwheaton · 10 months

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When you watch The Curse, you are watching two children who were abused and exploited daily during production. No adults protected us.

This was originally published on my blog in August, 2022.

I had a wonderful time at Steel City Comicon this weekend. It was my first time at this particular con, so I didn’t know there was such a huge contingent of horror fans, creators, and vendors who attend.

I love horror, and I was pretty psyched to be in the same place as John Carpenter and Tom Savini, across the street from the Dawn of the Dead mall. Pittsburgh feels like one of the places horror was invented, at least to me.

A number of these horror fans came to see me, and asked me to sign posters and other things from a movie my parents forced me to do when I was 13, called The Curse. I had to tell each of these people that I would not sign anything associated with that movie, because I was abused and exploited during production. The time I spent on that film remains the most traumatizing time of my life, and though I am a 50 year-old man, just typing this now makes my hands shake with remembered fear of a 13 year-old boy who nobody protected, and the absolute fury the 50 year-old man feels toward the people who hurt him.

I told this story in Still Just A Geek, and I’ve talked about it in some podcasts I did on the promo tour, but I’ve never put it out in public like this, in its entirety.

I suspect someone at the publisher would prefer I tease this and hope it drives book sales from people who want to read all of it, but I honestly don’t want to have another weekend like this one where everything is awesome, except the few times people who have no idea (and why should they) put that fucking poster in front of me, and all the fear, abandonment, and trauma come flooding back as I tell them that I won’t sign it, and why.

To their credit, each person was as horrified as they should have been, told me they had no idea (if they didn’t read my book why would they), and quickly put the poster away. They were all understanding. I am grateful for that.

But I really don’t need to tell this story over and over again, so here it is, with a child abuse and exploitation content warning, so I can just tell people to Google it.

After Stand by Me, everything changed. The attention from entertainment journalists, casting directors, and especially teen magazines came pouring in. The movie was a generational hit, beloved by critics and audiences alike, and every single one of us could pick anything to do next.

River’s parents and his agent got him Mosquito Coast, with Harrison Ford, as his next movie. I also auditioned for the role, but I knew even then that River was going to book the job. He was perfect, and I’d have to wait a little bit for my opportunity to come along.

I went on a lot of theatrical auditions after Stand by Me. I had tons of meetings with directors and the heads of casting at every major studio. It was all a very big deal, and I felt like we were all looking for something really special and amazing as my follow-up to Stand by Me.

At some point, a couple of producers contacted my agent with an offer to play one of the leads in an adaptation of H. P. Lovecraft’s “The Colour Out of Space.” The script was titled The Farm. (It would, of course, be changed when the film was released).

I read it. I did not like it. It was a shitty horror movie, and I saw that right away. It was the sort of thing you rented on Friday when the new release you wanted was already out of the store.

My mother, already an incredibly manipulative person, used every tool at her disposal to change my mind. My father threatened me, mocked me, told me “It’s your decision” when it clearly wasn’t. It was all so weird; I didn’t understand why they cared so much.

I told my parents I didn’t like it and didn’t want to do it. I clearly recall thinking it was a piece of shit that would hurt my career.

It wasn’t the first thing that had come our way that I wanted to pass on, and every other time, it hadn’t been a very big deal.

Sidebar: I was cast in Twilight Zone: The Movie, in 1983. The film tells four stories, and I was cast as the kid who can wish people into cartoonland. It was a GREAT role, in a movie I still love. (Note that Twilight Zone had four directors. One of them got three people killed. The segment I was cast in was not that one. I mention this because too many people zero in on this to deflect from what this whole thing is actually about.)

But I was CONVINCED by my parochial school teacher that if I worked on The Twilight Zone, which she had determined was satanic, I would go to hell. (This woman and her bullshit played a big role in my conversion to atheism at a young age, but when she told me that, I was all-in on the supernatural story they taught us in religion class.) I was so scared, more scared than I’d ever been to that point in my life, I cried and wailed and begged my parents to not make me do the movie. And I never told them why, because I was afraid my dad would laugh at me for being weak and afraid. My agent tried to talk me into it, and I wouldn’t budge. It’s the only thing I deeply and truly regret passing on, and I really hate I made that choice for such a stupid reason.

Okay. Back to The Curse.

This time, when I told them how much I hated it, they wouldn’t listen to me. My mother, already an incredibly manipulative person, used every tool at her disposal to change my mind. My father threatened me, mocked me, told me “It’s your decision” when it clearly wasn’t. It was all so weird; I didn’t understand why they cared so much.

That is, until they made me take a meeting with the producers of the movie, in their giant conference room on the top floor of a tall building in Hollywood. All I remember about this place was that it was huge; the table was way too big for the five of us who spread around it, and there were floor-to-ceiling windows on three of the walls, but the room was still dark. There was a weird optical illusion in the center of the table, this thing they sold in the Sharper Image catalog, made from two reflective dishes with a hole in the top of one. You placed an object in the bottom of the bottom dish, and it made it look like that object was floating above the whole thing. They had a plastic spider in it. What a strange detail for me to remember, but it’s as clear in my memory as if I were sitting in that room right now.

One man, who I presumed was the executive producer, was European or Middle Eastern (I didn’t know the difference then, he was just Not Like People I Knew), and I was instantly afraid of him. He was intimidating, and seemed like a person who got what he wanted.

So we sat there, my father who didn’t give a shit about me, my mother who was cosplaying as someone with experience, and me, thirteen years old, awkward as fuck, and scared to death.

I don’t remember what they said to me in their pitch or anything other than how uncomfortable and anxious I was to even be in that room. I tried so hard to be grown up and mature, but I — and my parents — was way out of my depth. I’d done one big movie and that was it. We didn’t have my agent with us, who had lots of experience and would have known what questions to ask.

No, in place of my experienced agent, my mother had decided she was going to be my manager, and she tackled the responsibility with an enthusiasm that was only matched by her absolute incompetence and inability to go toe-to-toe with producers the way my agent did. She was outwitted, out-thought, and outmaneuvered at every turn.

“You don’t have a choice,” my father commanded. “You are doing this movie.”

So we sat there, my father who didn’t give a shit about me, my mother who was cosplaying as someone with experience, and me, thirteen years old, awkward as fuck, and scared to death.

At some point, this man, who is represented in my memory by big Jim Jones sunglasses under dark hair above an open collar, said, “We are offering you a hundred thousand dollars and round-trip travel for your whole family. We will cast your sister, Amy, to play your sister in the movie.”

It all made sense, now. I was only thirteen, but I knew my parents were pushing me so hard because this company was offering me — them, really — more money than I’d ever imagined I’d earn in my life, much less a single job.

I knew that the right thing to do, the smart thing to do, was to say no. There would be other opportunities, and it was stupid to cash myself out of feature films for what I thought was, in the grand scheme of things, not very much money.

It’s incredible to me that I knew all of this. It’s incredible to me that I could see all these things, plainly and clearly, and my parents couldn’t (or, more likely, chose not to).

So after this man made his offer, all the adults in the room ganged up on me, selling me HARD on this movie.

My mother said, “Don’t you want your sister to have the same opportunities you’ve had? Wouldn’t it be fun and exciting to go to Rome? Think of all the history!”

The experience was awful. It was the worst experience I have ever had on a set in my life, by every single metric. The movie is awful, and it is the embarrassment I knew it would be.

I don’t think about this very often, because it’s super upsetting to me. Right now, I’m so angry at my parents for subjecting me and my sister to this entire experience. But I’m getting ahead of myself.

In that moment, I felt bullied and trapped. All these adults were talking to me at the same time, and I just wanted it to stop. I just wanted to go home and get out of this room. I just wanted to go be a kid, so I did what I’d learned to do to survive: I gave in and did what my parents wanted.

The experience was awful. It was the worst experience I have ever had on a set in my life, by every single metric. The movie is awful, and it is the embarrassment I knew it would be.

But here’s the thing: when you watch The Curse, you are watching two children, me and my sister, who were abused on a daily basis. The production did not follow a single labor law. They worked us for twelve hours a day, on multiple film units (while I work on First unit, second unit sets up and waits for me. When I should get a break to rest, they send me to Second unit, then to Third unit, then back to First unit. I was 13.) without any breaks, five days a week. I was exhausted the entire time. I was inappropriately touched by two different adults during production. I knew it was wrong, but I was so scared and ashamed, and I felt so unsupported, I didn’t tell anyone. I knew my dad wouldn’t believe me, and my mother would blame me. Anything to keep the production happy, that’s what she did. That was more important to her than the health and safety of her children. The director was coked out of his mind most of the time, incompetent, and so busy fucking or trying to fuck one of the women in the cast, he was worse than useless. He was a fading actor who was cosplaying as a director, as in over his head as my mother. My sister and I were never safe. Instead of harmless atmospheric SFX smoke, they set hay on fire in barrels and blew actual smoke onto the set. They took buckets of talc, broken wood, bits of wallpaper and plaster, and threw it into my face during a scene inside the collapsing house. My sister is in a scene where she goes to get eggs from some chickens, and they attack her. So they hired Lucio Fulci, the Italian horror master, to direct her sequence. His idea, which everyone was totally on board with, was to throw chickens at my sister. Live chickens, live roosters, live birds. Just throw them at a nine-year-old girl. Oh, and then tie them to her arms and legs so they’ll peck her. All of this happened under my mother’s observation, and with her full participation.

Everything I need to know about who my parents are is wrapped up in that experience: the total lack of concern for my safety and happiness, treating me like an asset instead of a son, lying to me, manipulating me, and using me to get things they wanted, and then gaslighting me about it.

If just ONE of the things I can remember happened to someone I loved, I would have grabbed my kids, gone to the airport, and flown home. Fuck those abusive assholes in the production. Let the lawyers sort it all out. Nobody hurts my children and gets away with it.

My mom says she “had some talks” with the producers. She claims that, once, she wouldn’t let us leave the hotel. (God, what a fucking dump that place was. It was just slightly better than a hostel.) I have no memory of that, but honestly the entire experience was so traumatic, I’ve blocked most of it out.

The movie was the commercial and critical failure I knew it would be. My parents spent the money. I don’t know what they spent it on. I got to keep fifteen cents of every dollar, so . . . yay?

My sister and I hardly ever talk about this. I suspect it was as upsetting and traumatic for her as it was for me. I told her I was writing about it, and asked her if she remembered anything. She told me she’d been lied to her whole life about this movie. Our mother let her believe she had been cast on the strength of her audition. “I was excited to work with you,” she said. She reminded me about some stuff I’d blocked out, including a scene where my character’s older brother (played by an actor named Malcolm Danare, who was kind and gentle, and made both of us feel safer when he was around) shoves my character into a pile of cow shit. When it came time to shoot the scene, the mud they’d put together to be the cow shit looked an awful lot like cow shit. When Malcolm pushed me into it, we all found out it was real cow shit. I was FURIOUS. The director had lied to me and had allowed me to have my entire body shoved into an actual pile of actual cow shit. I don’t remember what I said, but I remember he treated me the exact same way my father did whenever I got upset: he laughed at me, told me I was being too sensitive, reminded me that he was the director and he wanted to get a “real” performance out of me, and concluded, “If it bothers you so much, we’ll get you a hepatitis shot,” before he walked away.

My sister also recalled that, after she survived the scene with the chickens, it was the producers’ idea to give her one as a pet.

Okay, let’s unpack that for a quick second: you’ve been traumatized by these birds, so we’re going to give you one as a pet. That you’ll somehow keep in your hotel, and then will somehow get back to America. It will shock you to learn that neither of those things happened.

She remembered, as I do, the huge fight I had with my parents in our kitchen, where I told them I hated the script and I hated the movie. I didn’t want to do it, and I hated that they were making me do it.

“You don’t have a choice,” my father commanded. “You are doing this movie.”

“This is the only film you are being offered,” my mother lied to me. She made me feel like, if I didn’t do this movie, I would never do another movie again in my life. I had to do this movie. As my father bellowed, I had no choice.

Both of my parents denied this argument ever happened. Can I tell you how reassuring it is to know that my sister, who was also there, remembers it the same way I do?

The makeup department decided they would literally cut my little sister’s face with a scalpel, in three places, and put bandages over them.

But one thing she told me, the thing I did not know, the thing that makes me so angry I want to break things, actually managed to make the entire experience even worse than I remembered it.

There’s a scene after her chicken incident where I check up on her in her bedroom. She’s got cuts and bruises, and I guess we talk about it. I don’t remember and I can’t watch the movie because I’m terrified it will give me a PTSD flashback (I’ve had one of those and I recommend avoiding it). Here’s the thing about that scene: she has some cuts on her face, and those cuts are real. They are not makeup.

I’m going to repeat that. My nine-year-old little sister had actual cuts on her face that were placed there by an adult, on purpose.

The makeup department decided they would literally cut my little sister’s face with a scalpel, in three places, and put bandages over them. My sister told me our mother wasn’t in the makeup room when this happened — honestly, it seemed like our mother was strangely and conveniently absent when most of the really terrible things happened to us on the set — and when my sister told her what they’d done, she “lost her shit” at the production. She was pissed, I guess, which is appropriate and surprising. I wonder what would have to have happened for her to put us on a plane and get us home to safety? I mean, her son being abused daily didn’t do it, and her daughter being CUT IN THE FACE ON PURPOSE didn’t do it.

I just . . . I can’t. I can’t understand or comprehend allowing your own children to be physically and emotionally abused. They were literally selling my sister and me to these people, like we were some kind of commodity.

This was a tough conversation. My sister’s experience with our parents is very different from mine. My sister and I love each other. We’re close. I know it’s hard for her to hear that her brother, who she loves, was so abused by her parents, who she also loves. I was really grateful she made the time to talk to me about it, and grateful the experience wasn’t as horrible for her as it was for me.

As we were finishing our call, Amy also remembered one man, a young Italian named Luka, who was our driver for the movie. I haven’t thought about him in thirty years, but I can see his face now. He was kind, he was friendly, he taught us how to kick a soccer ball, and in the middle of an abusive, torturous experience, he stood out as a kind and gentle man. I mention him because she remembered him, which made me remember him, and goddammit I want at least one small part of this thing to not be awful.

The Curse remains one of the most consequential times the adults in my life failed to protect me. I’m 50. I still have nightmares.

Ultimately, as I predicted and feared, this piece of shit movie cashed me out of respectable films forever. I got offers for movies, but they were always mindless comedies or exploitative horror films. They were never the serious dramas I wanted to work in after Stand by Me. The industry looked at me and River, wondering if one or both of us would become a breakout star. They quickly saw that River was doing real acting work, and I was in this piece of shit. For River, Stand by Me was a beginning. For me, it would turn out to be pretty much everything, at least as far as film goes.

There are thousands of reasons film careers do and don’t take off. Maybe mine wouldn’t have taken off anyway. Clearly, it’s not where my life ended up, and I’m super okay with that now. But when all of this happened, it hurt and haunted me.

The Curse remains one of the most consequential times the adults in my life failed to protect me. I’m 50. I still have nightmares. Everything I need to know about who my parents are is wrapped up in that experience: the total lack of concern for my safety and happiness, treating me like an asset instead of a son, lying to me, manipulating me, and using me to get things they wanted, and then gaslighting me about it.

This annotation is the last thing I wrote before I turned this manuscript in, because opening these wounds is hard and painful. I put it off as long as I could, and I feel like I’m still holding back, because just this small glimpse of the experience has taken me a week to write. I can’t imagine trying to go back and unpack the whole thing. (Note that is not in the book: I’ve made an EMDR appointment to work on this because the nightmares have come back after the weekend).

Fuck The Curse, and fuck every single person who exploited and hurt two beautiful children to make it. You all participated in child abuse, and you all knew better. Shame on all of you. I hope this follows you to the end of your life. I hope that living with what you did to innocent children has been as hard for you as it has been for me, because you deserve no less.

#tw abuse #tw child abuse #tw exploitation #child actor #still just a geek #lucio fulci #trauma survivor #speaking up for the child who was silenced by his abusers

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thehmn · 3 months

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I’m currently listening to Maren Uthaug’s book 11% about a world where most men have died. I should probably wait until I’ve finished the book but I’m so fascinated by the world building.

As of now it’s still unclear why the men died but when the story takes place there’s a mix of older women who fucking hates men and young women who have only met drugged up men at “breeding centers” and imagine “males” as violent boogeymen but otherwise don’t really care and just want to live in the new seemingly perfect society their grandmothers fought for. The only people who still fight for men’s rights are witches who believe masculine energies are as natural and Of Nature as feminine energies, but even they sound more like animal rights activists, standing outside breeding centers with signs every Friday. Their most provocative sign is a picture of a man with Human written on it.

Christianity has been completely transformed and is now run by priests (they don’t call themselves priestess) who can only hold ceremonies when they have their periods and snakes are their most sacred symbol because they gave knowledge to Eva and God is called The Mother.

Trans men exist but are referred to as Man Women and they all seem to be sex workers who have functional silicone penises, though I’m not far enough into the story to know if they have other jobs. They generally also still have breasts because working as a wet nurse is another source of income for them. Testosterone treatments is not an option because it would make them too masculine and dangerous to be allowed into society but they all have male names and everyone use male pronouns for them.

A really fascinating aspect of the world is how people want to get rid of the old “patriarchal architecture” of straight lines and boxes but refuse to tear it down with machines, instead insisting on letting Mother Nature reclaim it. Only Rat Girls are actively trying to destroy the old buildings by releasing hoards of rats into them and planting bamboo to break up the concrete. New buildings have round shapes and are build in ways that make them blend in with cultivated nature and inside they’re painting in beautiful colors with no hard edges. They sound a lot like colorful hobbit homes. Also, locks are considered uncivilized and of a time when violent men roamed the earth and made life unsafe so nothing, from front doors to bathrooms, have locks. For a while after most men died women would go for Night Walks to relish in the fact that they no longer had to be afraid, though they liked to visit the witches at night because it felt a little spooky, which the witches thought was good fun.

The story is naturally about a middle aged witch who is hiding a young boy illegally and gets milk from one of the trans men in the red district while also sleeping with a Christian priest who struggles with her sacred job because her periods are irregular.

I’ll come back with follow up thoughts once I’ve finished it. Unlike what you might think, Maren Uthau isn’t a scary man hater. I’ve listened to most of her other books and this isn’t a recurring trope so clearly she has something to say specifically with this story and it’s rated pretty highly by both male and female readers. I think I’m in for quite the ride.

#humontalks #books and reading #Maren Uthaug

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wynnyfryd · 6 months

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Trailer park Steve AU part 19

part 1 | part 18 | ao3

November

As annoyed as Steve is to admit it, Dustin’s plan actually works.

(And he is annoyed, for the record. That little shithead should be glad he’s still grounded because Steve’s sorely tempted to invite him over just to give him a wedgie.)

Somewhere in the weeks following The Abduction Incident, he and Eddie become friends. Like, real ones. Friends who talk and laugh and shoot the shit in passing, who trade movies and mix tapes and ask each other if they saw the latest headlines in the morning paper.

They haven’t really had much chance to properly hang out, but Steve sees him most mornings, because he promised Wayne to keep making sure Eddie doesn’t sleep in on school days, and sometimes when they’re both around in the afternoons they’ll have a couple beers together, share a cigarette on the lumpy loveseat on the front porch of Eddie’s place.

And Eddie’s…

Eddie’s funny. Oddly charming. Theatrical and weird. Steve already knew that last part, but it’s so much better when it’s not being used as an offensive weapon against him. He likes being in on Eddie’s jokes.

Just plain likes Eddie, if he’s honest.

“Steve?”

Which should be crazy. It is crazy; if someone had told him a couple years ago that he’d be spending his free time with The Freak — that he would regret missing the guy’s Halloween show because of a Family Video shift, or that he would spend a week working up the courage to ask him if he wants to ride to school with Robin and him in the mornings? He probably would have kicked their ass for the mere suggestion.

But now he’s half-orphaned trailer trash who knows that monsters exist, so. Eh.

“Steve! Hello? Earth to Steve.”

Steve blinks, focuses on the fingers Robin’s snapping in front of his face. “Huh?” he asks dumbly.

He expects her to roll her eyes and pretend to chastise him with some butchered version of his name— ‘Steven Cardamom Harrington, were you daydreaming again?’ — but she just snaps her fingers again and begs, “A little help here? Please?” Her eyes are wide, her shoulder scrunched up to her ears with stress, and Steve realizes that:

a) he’s been staring blankly at a cart of go-backs for ten minutes instead of actually doing his job, and

b) the store is suddenly packed.

Friday night, and the rain that’s been hanging over Hawkins all week finally let up, so now everyone and their mother is apparently out running errands.

He moves to man the front desk because the line is almost out the door, and Robin buzzes around the room like a shaken can of pure panic, her bangs sticking to her forehead as she zooms up and down aisles with the restock cart. She keeps making crazy eyes at parents when they stop her to ask about new releases or the age-appropriateness of films, because the parents are distracting her from intercepting their little gremlin children, who keep putting movies on the wrong shelves on purpose just to piss her off.

“Dumbo! Does not go! In the horror section!” Steve hears her bark at a group of third graders, and he has to crouch down behind the counter for a second so she doesn’t see him laughing when she follows that up with a strangled, “Ugh!!!”

Okay.

Entertaining as this is, he’s not getting chewed out by Keith again for missing quotas because Robin blew a gasket and scared off all the customers.

“Hey, Rob?” he calls out to her as he hands a woman her change.

“What?”

“Go take a smoke break?”

He knows she doesn’t smoke. He also knows that sometimes rushes like this get to be too much for her — the noise, the lights, the chaos of a crowd (“the mouth sounds, Steve; good god, the mouth sounds”) — and she needs a minute or twelve to go stand outside in the cool air, flap her hands around and scream behind a dumpster or whatever until she calms down.

Her eyes flash at the suggestion like she’s about to snap at him, but then she takes a deep breath and marches herself out the back door without another word.

With Robin cleared out, the crowd thins out pretty quickly. Steve gets the line taken care of at a speed he’s definitely not getting paid enough to maintain, and the kids get bored of playing ‘rearrange the inventory’ and wander off to the arcade.

It’s sort of soothing, the mindless flow of it: scan, click, click, make change, “thanks for choosing Family Video,” print receipt, repeat. His mind wanders again as he works, but it doesn’t sink into its usual sludge of despair; doesn’t wail ‘house bills mom pills stress fuck-fuck’ like a tornado siren in his head until he gives himself a migraine.

No, he’s thinking about denim. About cigarette smoke.

Crooked smile; Chiclet teeth.

Patches and pins with strange names and stranger artwork.

And then he’s thinking about how this is the second time tonight he’s started daydreaming about Eddie and wills himself to knock it off.

What? The guy’s friendly with him a handful of times, and suddenly he’s, like, obsessed with him?

He’s not.

He's just… pleasantly distracted by him; that's all.

“Thanks for choosing Family Video,” he tells the last customers as he hands them their receipt. The second they turn to leave, he slumps over the counter with his head pillowed on his arms, a wave of exhaustion hitting him because holy shit that was so many people and thank god the store’s finally empty.

The bell over the door dings.

Goddammit.

Steve lifts his head, reminds himself not to scowl at paying customers because he really needs this job, but then—

“Eddie! Hey!”

—

part 20

tag list part 1 below cut let me know if you want to be added tomorrow

@heartsong18 @hellion-child @hiimlevi @hotluncheddie @jackiemonroe5512 @jaytriesstuff @littlebluejane @lololol-1234 @marklee-blackmore @melonmochi @messrs-weasley @mrsjellymunson @mugloversonly @nburkhardt @nerdyglassescheeseychick @noodle-shenaniganery @notsopersonalcharlie @novelnovella @nuggies4life @pending-dope-username @perseus-notjackson @ppunkpuppyy @questionablequeeries @remosdeerica @runninriot @sadcanadianwinter @shamelesspatrolshepherdcowboy @silver-snaffles @singmeyoursimpsong @slowandsteddie @slutforcoffein @solalasoforth @spookednsaucy @steddieas-shegoes @steddie-island @stevesbipanic @steves-strapcollection @taleah-bonnick @teatimeeverybody @th30ra3k3n @thealwithnoname @thespaceantwhowrites @thestarslittleking @thesuninyaface @trensu @violetsteve @wormdebut @yourmom-isgay @zoeweee @zombiecreatures

#trailer park steve au #steddie #steddie fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #robin buckley #my writing #my fic #steve is down ROTTEN lmao

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harmonictechnicality · 1 year

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It’s 1998 and Steve Harrington is waiting in line at a local department store’s Black Friday sale. The new gameboy color was just released a few days earlier - he figures it’ll be the perfect Christmas gift for all of his little dweebie friends.

Eddie Munson is standing directly behind Steve in line. He’s waiting to buy a new guitar amp - been saving his tip money for months and still can’t afford one at full price; he desperately needs any discount he can get.

After about the first hour of waiting, Steve notices Eddie mumbling to himself. Counting, then re-counting the money in his wallet. Steve Harrington has never re-counted money in his life. Never had to worry about not having enough. Especially not like this guy.

They spark up a conversation in the third hour of waiting. Steve compliments Eddie’s industrial bar piercing in his left ear. Eddie compliments Steve’s beaded hemp bracelet. Steve explains that his best friend made it for him after their first summer apart from one another.

By the final hour, they’re both tipsy. Eddie brought a thermos of spiked hot chocolate and offers to share it with Steve. Both of them tell stories about their worst hangovers and reminisce about their most memorable Christmas mornings as kids. They’re both buzzing and giggling at the stupidest shit. Buzzing so much that they don’t even comment on the fact that they’re huddled close together under the wool blanket that Steve supplied. Thighs touching. Arms overlapping.

Steve has finally worked up the courage to loop his pinky finger around Eddie’s when the line begins to move. He’s more than a little disappointed, but they both gather their things and enter the store.

Luckily, Steve is able to snag enough gameboys for his entire crew of nerdlings. As he gets in line, he watches Eddie studying the price on the amp he has been saving for. He re-counts his cash once more, before hanging his head and walking away without his item.

Not wasting a goddamn second, Steve jumps out of line and grabs the amp box off the shelf. Eddie looks back at him, shaking his head.

“Hey man, you don’t have to do that.” Eddie pleads with him.

But Steve has never had to worry about not having enough. Not even once.

“I know I don’t have to.” Steve shrugs, lugging all of his items to the checkout counter. “But it’s the season of giving, or whatever hallmark shit they say.”

Eddie protests a few more times, but Steve is adamant on doing this. It feels right.

As they walk out of the store, Eddie digs in his back pocket, pulling out a wrinkled neon flyer.

“You should come see my band next Friday.” Eddie hands the paper to Steve, then motions to the amp. “You know, to see this beauty in action.”

Steve nods. “Yeah, okay. I’ll be there.”

The sun is starting to rise as they both load up their cars. Steve is about to turn the key in the ignition when he acts on his impulses. He runs up to Eddie, who is closing the trunk of his van.

“Here.” Steve grabs Eddie’s wrist and pulls out a black ink pen. He scribbles his phone number there, only legible enough for Eddie to read it.

“Just in case you want to see me before next Friday.”

Steve walks away before he can see Eddie’s reaction, good or bad. He’s brave, but not that brave.

“Hey, Steve!” Eddie calls back.

“Yeah?” Steve takes a deep breath, then turns around. Can’t avoid his reaction now.

"Thank you for this." Eddie winks. "All of this."

He waves his wrist, the one with Steve's phone number sprawled all over it.

"Anytime." Steve answers back. He heads back to his car full of gifts. Smiling the whole ride home.

Eddie calls Steve that Sunday night and they spend their evening just like they had on Black Friday: talking until the sun comes up.

#steddie #steddie fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #just to get everyone in the spirit of the holidays #seasonal steddie is very special to my heart

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veilantares · 1 month

Text

Dark at the End of the Tunnel

Sink into an Anglers grasp in a dream, like the undersea the Night cradles screams

Been inspired by anglerfish recently, so I'm going to try to do at few of these dark background ones back to back and see if I stumble into something new. I noticed I tend to draw characters / mechs / robots in these oneshot illustrations extremely lanky, but I wonder if I made a comic, whether I'd keep these exaggerated proportions - I'm often indecisive about how much mech vs character is in these biomechs, so I usually just don't think about it and draw what feels interesting in the moment.

This gives me a chance to lay down a meandering anecdote - many years ago as a dumb teenager, I'd stay awake every Friday evening / saturday morning till 4 am, hoping to catch my favourite developer, Digital Extremes' weekly devstream. I vividly remember during closed beta in 2012 people would introduce the game as being about futuristic space pirates zipping through corridors - the games fidelity back then was really quite different, one of the early warframes, Ember, even had her whole model redone at one point. Around 2013-2014 ish when I was most excited for these streams, I noticed the games tagline was "ninja's play free", nothing at all to do with pirates - but it was catchy, and you'd see all over in the advertising because of the parkour moves you could pull off in the game were genuinely sick.

Incidentally, both the Defiance MMO (rip) and Destiny 1 (rip) were what warframe tended to be compared to at the time, both released a little after warframes closed beta, neither of which were piratey or ninja-ey , I think probably 80% of the reason for that was that they all had both guns and abilites ... I guess they were also all live services, I don't know if they were called that back then.

Compared to Defiance and Destiny, I was puzzled at what it was about warframes identity that made the aesthetic feel "itself" - and I got my answer on one of those devstreams - the art lead at the time brought out what they called a "faction pitch bible" a one pager showing all the factions they had in the game at the time, each of them with a few lines of flavour text.

What struck me from that faction pitch was that the Tenno / warframes "cyber knight" description was nothing at all to do with pirates or ninjas, it was a third, wholly other thing, and yet by virtue of being first, it might as well have been the "true" description.

But there was another original, even more original than the "true", Warframes predecessor game, Dark Sector, was a spy thriller with biomechanical aesthetics, or perhaps a powered suit superhero series. Would this original, more original than even the initial, not be what it truly was?

I think what my takeaway was from all of these, is that first an foremost, the aesthetic is "itself" rather than any arbitrary descriptors - I enjoy this about my own pieces, that they mostly still feel like they were made by me even if I can't quite categorise them or explain myself. Perhaps I'm happy if the takeaway is "cool mech", "weird robot" or "wacky character" because maybe it's all of those things and even more!

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ncteez · 8 months

Note

it’s a beautifully crisp friday morning and i am thinkin about lying on your back, knees to ur chest and having dino pathetically fuck ur thighs because he forgot to bring a condom to the pussy appointment. that’s it. that’s the thought. he’s close enough to feel the heat radiate from your cunt, close enough to accidentally bump the tip against your clit when he gets too excited, but not close enough to feel your walls hug him with each thrust :( pathetic chan :( PATHETIC. CHAN. :( - 🍿 x

WORDCOUNT ― 2.6k

WARNINGS ― this could be uncomfortable for some because i do have him whining/begging to hit it raw, so some could say there’s a form of manipulation at play.

CONTENT ― chan had a real fucking bad day and needs your hole to heal it, begging to hit it raw, obsessing over thighs, reader has thighs that are enough for him to knead, grinding but it’s only raw on chan’s end.

not proof read.

Chan knows the rules. No condom, no sex.

That’s never been an issue to him, seeing as how you’re both fucking other people pretty consistently. There’s been talk of getting regularly tested, even more talk about how a relationship is most definitely not on the table so, really, you requiring a condom does not bother him in the slightest.

If anything to Chan, you’re a comfort fuck. When he’s had a bad day or too deep in his head, he comes to you, or on you, whatever.

There’s all sorts of personalities he shares with people in bed, but you’re the one who gets this side of him. You’re the one he trusts in terms of rules, and he knows that you’d never over step set boundaries with feelings outside of simply caring for another person and loving the way they fuck you.

Today, though? Oh, today.

It appears the universe is against him and his happiness. First, his tire blows on the freeway and he had to maneuver to the side without being pulverized by the other cars. Second, he gets to work late due to that fucking tire and is immediately laid off due to “internal restructuring”. Lastly, he decides to take the bus home and upon sitting for far too long, he realizes he took the wrong fucking line.

Naturally, he finds himself calling you and hopping on the next bus that leads to your place. He doesn’t explain his day, as usual, he simply states without even a “hello”, that he needs to see you now.

Upon arriving, he’s exhausted, worn down, and very nearly about to ram his head into the closest wall. Thankfully, you’re the saving grace for him, like always. The one good thing that can happen on a day like this is getting between your legs and releasing all of his emotions through that.

Until the universe deals another blow.

“Fuck.” He huffs, already kneeling between your legs and prepared to start that sweet, sweet, release of emotions.

“That sounded detrimental.” You comment, looking up at him from your angle against the pillows, arms reaching out for him and stopping mid way. “What’s up?”

“I didn’t bring condoms.” He sighs, already feeling his length soften at the very idea of not being able to get what he needs this evening.

“Relax, I have some in the drawer.” You rolls your eyes.

He perks up, keeping himself between your legs but bending his long body over you and opening up the drawer.

Nothing.

“Where?” He asks, rummaging through your drawer.

“Are they not there?” You lean up, turning to look for yourself.

Damn, you must really be busy to already be out of condoms by now.

“Oh, I guess I’m out.” You chuckle, shrugging at him and the way he leans back and keeps himself between your legs.

“Please,” He immediately starts. “Just this once.”

You shake your head immediately, narrowing your eyes at him.

“Once always turns into again, and again, and again.” You argue, shoving him back by your foot and feeling his body tense up in an attempt to stay in place between your legs.

“You’re on birth control right? Please, I don’t think you understand how badly I need this today.”

You pretend like you’re thinking, but the answer will always be no.

“Chan, you’re not fucking me raw. Come prepared next time.”

He sighs in defeat, not wanting to push too hard, accepting your “no” at face value but still wallowing in his own pity over it.

Then, his eyes trail to your panties, sitting nicely with a little spot at the seat of them, showing him that you were ready to take it had he come with everything he needed for this. He could cry, maybe. The universe is truly against him.

His eyes continue to stare, trailing up and down your legs. His brain is really trying to comprehend that he’s about to have to stand up and off of this bed, and get another bus home. He’s jobless, carless for the moment, and now, perhaps the worst of it all, he’s pussy-less.

You watch him as he stares, unsure if he’s aware of the pout on his face. You’ve never seen him so desperate for it. Still, no is no and he’s going to have to figure something out. You’re not asking why he needs to fuck you so badly today, despite the curiosity, you’re also not going to say no if he finds a work around to this.

“I should just leave, then, I guess.” He says in a solemn voice, still not budging from between your legs.

“You’re really just going to act like foreplay doesn’t exist?” You try to encourage him to realize there are other fun things to do outside of just, like, the actual penetration.

He doesn’t look you in the eye as his brain spills with thoughts. He needs to fuck. He could ask for a handjob, or even a blowjob, but none of that compares to the way your pussy squeezes around him. Nothing compares to the slick, warm heat that spills around him when he’s pushing in, or sliding out. Even with a condom, the sensation is something he chases on days like this and– wait.

Legs. Thighs.

His eyes shoot back to your thighs, and his hands follow. Gripping the back of them, kneading the flesh there. Then, there’s a smile from you, and a twitch in his pants.

“Can I–” He starts, feeling a bit pathetic to even ask such a thing when your pussy is right there, and there’s a gas station that definitely sells condoms a few blocks away if he wanted to walk there and expose himself to you that he’s currently at rock bottom. “God, please,” He continues, not quite asking the question but imagining it nonetheless.

“Hm?” You hum out to him sweetly, feeling his hands knead at your thighs and sensing his urgency for this.

More urgency than usual.

He doesn’t respond with his words, and instead dips his head a bit while both hands push your legs together, mostly to examine how tight he can get your thighs to squeeze. He’s pleased by the image, pulling his head back up and looking at you again, with a pout he doesn’t realize he has.

“You want to fuck my thighs, don’t you?”

The sound that comes from his mouth in response is, arguably, the most pathetic and arousal-laced sound you think you’ve ever heard. All of it because of non-penetrative sex? That little nod he gives is much bigger in your head, it’s not a little nod, it’s a pleading, a begging nod.

And so, you give him what he so clearly needs, with a pleased smile on your face.

First, you squeeze your thighs together tighter for him, bracing your hands under your bent knees and allowing him to press them up and against your chest. Then, you hear the muffled sounds of him shoving his pants down to his own thighs.

It’s strange, really, feeling his cock raw against you for the first time. Given, you’ve gone down on him, you’ve given him handjobs before too, but this is the first time he’s been entirely bare below your waist.

The head of his cock is warm when it prods against your thighs, but the sound that he makes somehow makes you feel warmer. The grip of his hands holding your thighs in place, the look in his eye when he manages to love this just as much as when he’s actually sliding into you.

All of it is warm, like you can feel the way he uses you as a release that’s more than just sexual desire.

For him, he doesn’t quite care that he’s going a bit insane right now. He’s never slid his cock between or into anything without the aid of someone’s arousal, spit, or lubricant. The pre-cum spilling out of him right now is more than enough to lube your thighs to perfection. Shining in the light of your bedroom with each slide of his cock.

You can feel the way he struggles to push past how tightly you’re squeezing your legs together, and fuck, does he feel it too.

His hands grip you harder as he fucks through the small space you offer him. He can tell you’re enjoying yourself, with that smug little grin on your lips as you watch him struggle not to lose his composure.

He stays focused on that release, fucking forward, then back, hard and long thrusts that would typically reach deep inside of you had he brought a condom with him on this dreadful day. To be fair though, it’s not like he wakes up, packs a condom, and expects to fuck someone by the end of it.

He continues this, feeling your legs loosen and tense, offering so many sensations that aren’t quite what he needs, but somehow just enough to please him and have him falling more and more in love with the act of fucking a beautiful pair of thighs.

Maybe it’s because it's raw, and there’s no barrier to lighten the sensations, or maybe he’s finally gone insane, but fuck. The pre-cum is practically pouring from him as he continues, causing his length to slide in all sorts of ways. No longer just through your thighs, but up and down them too.

Down and down, his cock slips, still fucking forward at a rate that makes him sweat only slightly. Then, he feels it.

The heat radiating from your core beneath those panties. God, it’s so close. He could pull your panties to the side and slip it in right now if you’d give him the confirmation. He could make you feel so good, and he would feel just as good if–

“I can feel how wet you are,” He comments in a slightly choked voice. “is this enough for you?”

You think hard about that. On your own terms, seeing him enjoy himself so blatantly is enough to want him to fuck you, with or without a condom. But, you can’t just let this end right now. He looks too pretty when he’s pathetic. You can see that he’s practically on the verge of tears right now, fucking your thighs in a way he wishes he could fuck you.

“Maybe,” You smile, loosening your thighs only slightly to let his cock fall from between them and land against your clothed core. “It seems to be enough for you.”

He glances at you before staring down at the way you squeeze your thighs together again, essentially locking his cock directly against your wet panties. Without intention, he fucks forward and hears your little gasp.

This, this is definitely enough for you. And him? It’s enough, too.

“Yeah?” He asks, fucking forward and back again, sliding his cock against your throbbing clit through your panties. “Is this what you need from me?”

You’d argue that you need more, but you enjoy the way he seems to be cocky about it right now. So, you nod, relishing in the slide against you.

If he wasn’t going insane before, he definitely is now. With the warmth of you radiating against him, the slick soaking through your panties and coating his cock all the way from the underside of the head to the base– his pre-cum is nothing but a mess against you right now because of it.

Each sound you make when he lends you a rough thrust forward, each little reach of your hands for his strong arms still holding you in place with a bruising grip, it’s driving him to forget he’s not fucking you at all.

The fabric between the two of you acts enough as a barrier, despite his cum seeping through them when he finally gives himself the release he’s been so desperate for.

“Like that,” He groans, tightly fucking himself into the little space you provide between your thighs and clit, urging you to squeeze around him much like your pussy would be doing. “Yeah, just like that.” He continues, pouting once again as he chases the orgasm that’s already vibrating through him.

You smile through it, the sensation of him riding out his orgasm and spilling all over you is enough to get you off in a split second if he were able to focus on hitting your clit every single time, but he doesn’t. His body stutters and shakes through it, and the image alone is enough for you to feel satisfied this time.

And then, there’s nothing but silence and deep breaths from him as he pulls his aching length from your thighs and he rolls onto your side. The relief of feeling your legs fall back to the bed is definitely just as arousing to your body. Not exactly sexually arousing, but honestly, it felt so good to stretch them back out after holding them in place for so long that, well, your body may as well decide to orgasm right then and there after all that.

But it doesn’t, and you turn to look at Chan with curiosity instead.

“You know, you don’t give me a lot of time to prepare for our little meetups. If I’d known more than twenty minutes before you’d be here, I would’ve checked for condoms.”

He groans, still feelings waves of release in his body, ears still ringing.

“It was more last minute for me this time too,” He admits, finally able to take in a full and satisfying breath. “It’s been a rough day.”

You tilt your head and tick your tongue.

“One of these days I’m gonna start asking why you always come to me during a bad day, you know that, right?”

He nods, it’s kind of your right to know why he’s so desperate when he’s with you.

“Yeah,” He nods along with you. “You never really ask though, which is why I keep coming to you when it happens.”

You take that at face value. He probably doesn’t want to talk about a bad day, and you, for some reason, feel prideful in not asking because you assume everyone else would probably force him to talk about it, rather than fuck the frustration away.

“Would it be rude to say that, well,” You pause, realizing it would be very rude, but you’re gonna say it anyway. “I like when you have bad days.”

He deadpan stares at you, seemingly offended, but definitely understanding of why you’d say such a thing.

“You say that like I just fucked you.” He laughs, shaming himself.

“Well, for a while there, it genuinely felt like you were.” You admit this time, eyeing him up and down.

“Yeah, it kind of did, didn’t it?” He smiles, readying himself to stand on his legs despite them still being jelly right now.

“What, you’re already leaving?” You ask.

“Yeah, I kind of need to check the bus schedules and make sure I get on the right line home.”

Something clicks in your head. Chan, who usually drives to your place, is now taking the fucking bus. Oh, but you don’t even know half of what he’s gone through today.

“I could drive you home, you know.”

He was going to refuse, because how much more pathetic would he look being driven home by his very own fuck buddy? Yet, he finds himself nodding.

And you, well, you find yourself driving to the gas station with him instead. Grabbing that box of condoms, wiggling your eyebrows at him, and dragging him straight back to your place.

After all, you didn’t quite get your release yet.

#svt smut #dino smut #chan smut #seventeen smut #🍿 anon #[h.hours]#[chan]#[dino]

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chelscait · 7 months

Text

bad idea right? | Leah Williamson.

category: song fic / angst-ish.

summary: it’s a bad idea, right?

word count: 5k.

warnings: mentions and hints of smut. tbh I have no idea where this went, forgot it was a song fic LOL.

Getting fucked up seemed to be a weekly occurrence by now, Fridays, Saturdays, sometimes Sundays with a cheeky Monday off work but you never intended for it to become like this.

It had been months since it ended and all the alcohol, that had taken minutes off your life with every shot, has seemed to have subdued the feelings, the thoughts and the emotions. Focusing on your friends as well as new friendly faces at times, the ones you found in your bed in the early morning as well as a banging headache, made you forget all about a certain blonde.

Thats where you find yourself now, stumbling from side to side as the music pumped all around you with no idea whether you were dreaming or living reality. You were that pissed. All night you had been trying to find someone to distract you, give you what you really craved on these nights. It wasn't just the alcohol, well, it does make the sex a tiny bit better, especially when you have no idea who it really is exploring your body. Sex, sex is the other reason.

You slumped into an empty booth you found in the corner, finding yourself alone with no idea where the others have relocated. You don't think you could find them even if you tried, in your state, it could take a while, and then you'd end up further than you were. Necking down the drink in hand, your eyes once again scanned the room. Hot, sticky and horny and you were nowhere near able to describe yourself as the three. Just wasted.

You couldn't stay here much longer, it was boring. Too boring to admit that it was the worst night out in a while and it hasn't done anything to benefit you. At all.

About to give up and dash, two of your friends piled down beside you and they were definitely apart of the three adjective category. Hot, sticky and horny.nNot to mention, those two do love sucking each others face off whilst continuously broadcasting that they were straight.

Definitely not.

Your eyebrow raised as they practically climbed on top of each other, shuffling to the side slightly to not seem like you were in a throuple and sticking to the arm of the booth as if you were caught in a fly trap.

They were most definitely not making you feel any better.

"Alright?" Another voice was heard, well one that is talking words instead of moans. She was just as fucked, like you. Although she was having more fun.

"Does it look like it?" You groaned as you got nudged by a stray elbow, deciding it was best to crawl under the table to the other side to sit next to her instead.

"Not having fun?"

"Weirdly, no. I don't know."

"You need to find someone, even if its a quick shag in the bathroom. You need a release."

"Do you not think I've been trying, theres literally no gay women in here i find attractive.. or me attractive." You complain as you saw your phone light up from your bag, slipping it out of its space to find a name you didn't expect to see, eyes widening as you struggled to look away. "Its like so homophobic.."

Words slurring, you read the name over again. Shaking your head slightly, you tossed your phone on the table, unsure on what to do. The heat of the room and the unexpected text made you sweat slightly, head finally becoming noticeably fuzzy.

"Who was that?"

"No one."

Her eyes squinted and you furrowed your eyebrows in confusion before it was all revealed when she snatched your phone quicker than the speed of light from your side of the table, gasping as she managed to unlock it.

"Holy shit! Is that the Leah, Leah?" She squealed as if it was the most ideal thing to happen right now, completely ignoring the things that went down which you had told her about.

Things, was nothing. It was mutual.

"Y/N.." Her voice toned down as she turned your phone to you, the red and green buttons the first thing you saw. "Answer!"

"I cant, its too loud in here.."

Your mind begged for you to do so but you didn't want to give into her that easily, you knew how arrogant she was and, most likely, still is. You always liked to edge her anyway, in all circumstances.

After grabbing your phone back, you noticed you still had a photo of you both as the background, remembering when you set it. It was a mirror selfie, the mirror that you both found in the expensive looking bathroom, in the expensive restaurant she took you to. On the third date. She spoiled you and you loved to be spoiled rotten.

The girl next to you changed the subject a while ago, waffling your ear off as you sat staring, daydreaming as your phone lit up every few minutes. Your brought your thumb up to your mouth, biting your nail slightly as your thought process whirled. You wanted so desperately to take a peak, a look at what she wanted. All notifications were from her, you could tell.

You liked this possessive, toxic side of her. She never allowed you to go out without her and if you did, she'd be blowing up your phone like she was right now. On about the 10th notification, you gave in. Reaching eagerly for your abandoned device.

'I miss you..' 'Come to mine. I need you.' 'I'm alone.' 'Why are you not answering me?' 'Come on, Y/N. I know you want to.' 'Don't be a bitch.'

From that, you could tell she had also been drinking which was a rare occasion seeming as she was a professional footballer. You knew how she was like drunk…

'I can see you've read my messages.'

You bit your lip as you struggled to reply, drunken mind in the midst. You should probably, probably not. Your focus dropped at what she sent next, eyes bulging out of their sockets nearly at the sheer audacity she had. You didn't have much time to prepare for the salivating photo she sent, it bugged you so much so that you had to clear your throat even when you hadn't spoken for about 20 minutes.

The confidence that irradiated was not unusual, but this was better than you remembered. Sending a nude on imessages was risky.

'Like what you see? Come. Over.' 'Or at least send me one back.. don't be boring.'

Your stomach was fluttering so much you had to hold an arm over it and with your pupils fully dilated, you conjured up a reply;

'What's your address?'

'Bold to have claimed i've moved, you stalking me?'

She replied back ravenously quick, she must be desperate but she can never help but tease into it.

'Maybe. That didn't answer my question though, i thought you wanted me over?'

'I do.'

'Well then don't mess around.'

You smirked slightly as you took hold of the reigns, waiting as Leah typed her address out, the heat getting to you. Your friend had disappeared without your acknowledgment, giving you a clear way out without any suspicion, not before said girl pushed you back down in your seat.

"Where do you think you're going in such a rush?"

"I was.."

"You were going to see Leah, weren't you?" She raised her eyebrows as she mixed her drink with her straw, shimmying slightly before nudging you with her shoulder.

"I.. it's bad idea, right?" You spoke as you watched her through the lids of your eyes, scratching the side of your head as the thoughts came trailing back but they were too blurred to exactly understand.

"Fuck no! You want this Y/N, you need it. You need her.." She teased, posture so upright as she sipped through her straw.

"But.. what about the others.."

That was an excuse and a question you already knew the answer too.

"Look at them. I think they're okay." She nodded towards the dance floor, spotting the two other girls basically fucking in public. "Besides, I met a guy at the bar, so, I'm busy. Go."

She stood up and scurried off, leaving you back to where you were. You knew what she said was right, you were drunk and you have suspected Leah was too. All could be worked out in the morning.

As you were getting up, your phone buzzed once more;

'You're taking too long, hurry up otherwise you'll be down an orgasm.'

You scoffed at the threat, who does she think she is? She is the one that is begging for you.

Rolling your eyes, you left her on read before turning your way through the puzzle of littered people and towards the exit. The anticipation of the night ahead having already sobered you up a little but not enough to make you rethink your choice.

After you flagged cab down and got into it, you hesitantly read out your ex's address to the driver and you watched with intent as he typed it into his satnav.

This is a bad idea, right?

You felt a bit queasy as he started to drive, said satnav displaying the journey to only be 10 minutes, the slowest yet mind consuming 10 minutes. Looking out the window with your hand over your mouth, you came to realise how stupid this all was. How easy it was just to fall right back into her arms after being uncommunicative with each other for 4 months. One simple text and show of possession.

But it was mostly just the nag at the back of your head as you imagined Leah, her body and her touch. Her voice.. the mix of masculinity and femininity that she adorned.

The car came to a halt abruptly, breaking you out of your provocative daydream;

"We are here, love."

You almost gagged at the pet name used by the middle aged man sat in the front seat, only Leah could call you that. At least for tonight. She'd be seething if she was there to witness that.

With a quick 'thanks' you hastily got out of the car, rounding to his window to slip him some cash. Not bothering with the change as you stepped up to the modern apartment complex. You checked the number of her flat and pressed the button that lived next to it, no one answered but you heard the complaint of the door as it unlocked and you stepped right in.

As you climbed the stairs to her floor, you ruffled your hair out a bit and adjusted your dress to show off the right attributes. You know you didn't need to make any changes, it was Leah after all.

Once you reached the floor, you heard a captivating wolf-whistle echo down the hallway, looking to find a certain blonde leaning against the door way with just a large jumper and her panties on.

"Expecting something?" You asked and stopped in the middle of the hallway, noticing her eyes give in to look at where she missed most; your boobs.

"Yeah, a parcel about 15 minutes ago. I'll let it slide if you're the exchange to what i ordered."

"Am i an object to you, hey?" You questioned, walking antagonisingly slow towards her, placing the palm of your hands on her chest as you found yourself in reach.

"Not complaining." She muttered as she bit her lip, eyes fully dilated as her fingers trailed round to your back to undo a quarter of your zip. Only doing the rest once she pulled you inside. Her touch on you was rough, as you remembered, and the kiss was sloppy. Both of you trying to get the most of each other, indulging in each others closeness in the most disgusting way.

After slamming the door closed, she had you squashed up against it, continuing her rampage.

This isn't exactly how you thought your night would end.

The eagerness inside her was more than you interpreted and you found yourself wanting her more, even closer to you than she already was. She had managed to tug your dress down half way, exposing more of your skin, and her lips travelled with her touch until she was planted fully on her knees in front of you.

Your mouth was half open as you both kept your stare on each other, addressing your consent through your gaze. She was about to fuck you and you had barely made it into her home yet. You guessed a new house called for a christening.

It shouldn't have shocked you that you both lasted to the early hours of the morning, finding yourself laying down next to her in the now sweaty sheets of her extremely comfy bed. You had guessed it was new. All that was heard in the dim room was both your heavy breathing, deep sighs occasionally heard as you struggled to find the words. Now this was slightly awkward.

You found your stuff was all over the floor as you peered over, trying to reach over for your bag without moving from your spot. The energy had completely left your soul, let alone your body.

Grabbing hold of the strap with the tips of your fingers, you dragged it towards you and plucked your phone out whilst a warm hand laid down on the naked skin of your back, making you jump and nearly fall off. She snuck her arm around your waist and laid you back down before you could do so, shuffling closer as her fingers kept their trail on your waist.

Her head rested on your shoulder as you unlocked your phone, revealing tons of messages on your 'besties' group chat that have grouped together on your lock screen. Either asking where you were and who you were with.

Leah's head nuzzled against your skin and you knew you had to be careful whilst replying;

'I'm at home, i was asleep.'

After you sent the message, you threw it back on the floor and settled back down next to the blonde, facing each other. You both didn't say anything, nor touched. Not before you reached out and tucked her sprawled hair behind her ear.

"I've always loved when you have your hair down, makes you ten times hotter." You whispered as you leant closer to her face, your lips dangerously close that you could feel each others hitched breaths.

"Yeah? Is that the only reason?" She teased, moving her face away from yours to gradually sit up, leg wrapping around your waist to straddle you before leaning back down.

Your hands instinctively moved to the back of her neck, fingertips buried in the roots of her blonde strands.

"Maybe because i can pull it too," You pulled at it slightly, a faint moan spilling from her lips that still stroked against your own. "run my fingers through it and tell you where i want-"

She crashed her lips onto yours, cutting you off. Teeth clashing against each others and you both didn't give in to the oxygen that was needed momentarily, causing you to yank her back by her hair. She smirked slightly in her daze whilst you held her back, slowly sitting up with her still in your lap.

You kept your grasp as you rounded your lips to her neck, whispering in her ear. "You never told me you had a hair pulling kink.."

"Oh, baby.. i have more than just that you were yet to figure out.."

You awoke a few hours later with only a mere headache, the only real protruding ache coming from elsewhere. You hadn't had this feeling in a while, it made you want to stay wrapped up in her arms for the rest of the day. Life even. As you were laying on your stomach, you turned your head to face her, the mix of sunlight and sticky mascara blurring your eyesight but you could just about make out that she was still asleep.

You pushed yourself up by the palm of your hands and got out from under the sheets, picking your phone up from off the floor and going on the hunt for the bathroom, not before pulling on Leah's jumper.

Completely disarrayed, you didn't think to realise your surroundings, trodding round the corner to find one of Leah's teammates in the kitchen who had already noticed your arrival.

"Holy shit." You pressed your hand on your heart as she came to view, recognising her as Lia Walti who you knew all to well from over the years.

"Hi Y/N.." She raised an eyebrow as she spoke, voice full of confusion, not forgetting to look you up and down. "Had fun?"

"Are you roommates? She didn't say. You weren't-"

"No, just got back from Switzerland." She nodded towards the pile of bags as she sipped her tea. "Good job i didn't come back last night, it seems."

"We're just friends." You blurted, covering one foot with the other as you stayed stood in the doorway.

"I didn't mention.. or ask.. but okay, if you say so."

"Last night didn't mean anything.. we were drunk." You continued, disheveled with the moment.

"Liebe, i wasn't the one you fucked." She giggled at your ramble. "You weren't that drunk to realise you were with Leah, right?"

"Oh. I know it was Leah."

"Ew. Where is she anyway?"

"Asleep.. do you know where the bathroom is?" You asked as your head pounded, rubbing a hand across your forehead.

"Down the hall, on the left." She nodded.

Muttering a quick 'thank you', you turned back around and eventually found the toilet, doing your business as well as searching for a packet of paracetamol to ease the ache that accumulated over the last hours. Swallowing them dry, you noticed yourself in the mirror and realised the state of yourself. The affect of the alcohol releasing the anxieties you were supposed to feel before the whole ordeal, creating a sense of regret.

Even though you didn't want to regret it.

You stalked back into Leah's bedroom, waking the girl up with your loud presence as you collected your clothes, muttering to yourself.

"What's the rush?" Her voice was hoarse and she cleared it slightly, she did make a lot of noise last night so you weren't an inch surprised.

After stripping off her jumper, you chucked it at her, covering her bare chest which was exposed to you. "This was a bad idea."

She scoffed, throwing her head back at the stubbornness as she leant back on her elbows. She watched as you tried to wiggle on your dress from the night before, raising an eyebrow at the way you struggled, frustrating yourself to points end.

"Okay, Y/N. Stop, you can borrow some of my clothes." She sighed, standing up without an insecurity shown, full body on display as she opened her slightly overfilled wardrobe and chucked you a pair of joggers as well as the jumper you had just thrown back.

You couldn't help yourself but let yours eye's travel, her body painted with marks you had created and the scratches on her back made your eyes widen. As a lesbian, you didn't think your nails were that long enough to cause such a profound mark.

"What?"

"When do you next have training?" You nervously giggled.

"Tomorrow.. why?"

"No reason."

She'll find out for herself, or Lia will tell her.

Getting home was when things really hit you. You had promised yourself that you were going to stay away that time, considering you didn't all the other times it was not surprising but that was the furthest you had gotten without her. And you failed once again.

It was like failing rehab, you relapsed and now your transition period starts again.

What makes it worse was that it was really good sex, too good- mind blowing. Now, you would't stop thinking about it, and her, and your relationship. It was toxic to even be thinking like this, so you made the sacrifice and got rid of her number. She had messaged you a few times beforehand, clearly unsatisfied by your ghosting to the point where it was pissing her off and she continuously spammed you. Every moment so, you did what you had to do even if your heart said differently.

Your friends didn't need to have the conversation with you, it was obvious you lied to them with that message, considering you basically ran after your friends confirmation to go to her, to Leah. They now find you insistently down in the dumps, like they usually did after a run in with your ex. That meant, more drink and more random hook ups. This time without Leah unblocked and able to access your communication. At all.

"That girl is cute." Your friend pointed behind you but you had no expectation whatsoever, turning your head slightly to see a very straight looking girl. You rose your eyebrow at her telling her to be for real before you sipped at your drink. "What she is?"

"Yes, and the straightest looking in the fucking room. Not to mention, extremely basic. Cough, straight." You responded sarcastically, scoffing slightly as you rolled your eyes, your friend mirroring your expression to get back at your mocking.

"Well, you definitely need more gay friends then."

"I would if you both came out" You nodded your head to your other friend sitting close beside her, those were the two snogging their faces off the night you went to see you know who.

"We're straight!" The both exclaimed leaving them with their mouths hanging open, shuffling away from each other slightly. Oops.

"Not even close girls, snap out of it." You laughed, using the palms of your hands to escape the scene and scoot out of your seat. "Drinks?"

You were hoarded with a bunch of different beverages names before you puzzled your way to the bar, weirdly feeling a heavy stare on you as you did so. Choosing to ignore it, you straightened your posture as you approached the bar, finding a not so bad looking bartender in the process.

"Hey, what can I get you, pretty?" She smirked as she wiped clean the glass that was in her hand, her white shirt sleeves rolled up to her elbows-veins revealed, now thats gay.

You couldn't help the blush that coated your cheeks, tucking your hair behind you ear as you began to order, leaning closer for her to be able to hear better. She leant in that tiny bit closer also, eyes drifting across your features.

She made you your drinks and you were in awe, leaning your chin against your knuckles as you stared at her and every aspect. Still feeling an intense sense of someone prying behind you, trying to ignore it as you kept your focus on her for a distraction. The collection of glasses were laid out in front of you in a matter of minutes as well as one napkin she laid down too, picking it up gently to find an inked scribble on the other side- you winked at her and stuffed it into your bra before digging into your purse to find your phone (to pay.)

You attention was caught off guard as an arm leant over you with their card, your eyes widening as you noticed the rings clad on the persons long, and skilled, fingers as they tapped it against the card machine. Your eyes peaked from under your eyelids to see the bartenders face drop, moving onto another customer and you huffed at the unwanted attention.

"Fancy seeing you here, pretty." She exaggerated the nickname as she nestled her mouth close to the side of your head, hands falling inconspicuously onto your waist.

"What are you doing here, Leah."

"Same reason as you- partying, flirting.." You felt her tense from behind you, glaring daggers at the poor girl behind the bar as she turned to look at you both again. Your breath hitched as Leah moved her hand to tuck her fingers in your bra, ultimately pulling out the crumbled bit of tissue and chucking it back on the bar all whilst looking at her.

You slapped her hand away as she teased, not wanting to move any time soon. "Don't touch me."

Not looking back, you began to walk away, you didn't need to fall into her trap again- not this soon. Just as you thought you had escaped, your hand was yanked back and you were suddenly flushed against her body once again, your heart racing with nerves and curiosity.

"I miss you." Her accent came out deep, groping at any bit of skin.

"Leah.."

"I miss you, Y/N."

"You don't, you miss the sex and the idea of me." You used your elbows in between you both to struggle yourself out of her grip, face stern as you replied. You're trying to be the bigger person. For yourself. "I shouldn't have gone back to you that night."

"That's a lie-"

"Shut up." You spat, for once putting Leah in her place. "We have tried this multiple times before and we always, always end up in the same position. On what earth are you thinking that this is going to end up differently this time?" The blonde was gobsmacked, unusual for her usual exterior- you almost felt bad for how she looked so vulnerable. "Move on, Lee."

Seeing the cogs whirling in Leah's face, you try to make an exit once again, thinking this time you were surely alone- no more Leah in your life before you were pulled back once more.

"No."

"Leah, for fuck sake.." You placed your fingers on the bridge of your nose, sighing for what felt the millionth time that night.

"No, listen to me. Let me talk, please." Her voice sounded like it wobbled if you didn't think mishear it over the thumping of the music, her eyes shone with need and necessity. This wasn't the usual Leah, she looked defenceless- helpless. As much as you hated it, your heart clenched and you nodded, herself eagerly taking your hand to lead you out of the club towards a quiet place.

The chill in the air had your different intakes of oxygen reveal into the night sky, you shivered slightly and Leah stepped closer, hoping the warmth radiating from her could hit you in some way.

"I'm not lying when I say I miss you." She started, voice quiet as the cloud full the words evaporated into the air. "I mean it, when I called you and texted you that night it wasn't because I was drunk and horny.. well I was but that wasn't all of it. I wouldn't of asked anyone else of the sort-"

"Thanks for letting me know, I really appreciate that." The sarcasm spilled- you couldn't help it.

"Just, please.."

"Sorry, carry on."

"What I'm trying to say is that, the way I was in our relationship is something I regret everyday. I took advantage of you, I pretended to be someone that I never was and now it's the only way people know me and I hate it. I really did love you, Y/N, as much as I didn't say it that much it became a habit where I didn't let myself say it- for some reason, I liked the way I became and now coming to think of it, it was so fucking stupid. I cared more about some made up personality than the love of my life and I want to punish myself every fucking day for losing you. I miss you, I love you and I hate myself for making you think differently about yourself. I hate that I manipulated you, downgraded you, everything that I said or did that made you cry, made you leave with a hurt expression and your heart broken.. I would kill to bring back the time to redo my wrongs with you, I never should have felt the need to be such a dick especially not to someone as precious as you are. I know you've probably already made your mind up about me and never want to see or hear from me again, I promise that will happen but I just needed you to know that I am sorry. I miss you Y/N, but I will respect your wishes."

The tears streamed down your face like every bit of fluid inside you wanted an escape, you never though such words could fall out of a mouth like your exes, the state of vulnerably of hers was confusing and you didn't know what to do, usually it was the other way round- yet you were the one still in tears. Leah's had only just glossed over as she leant back against the brick wall behind her, covering her face with her hands.

"Did or do?" You sobbed, fiddling with your hands.

Her face peaked out of her hands to find you were still there, in fact closer to her than you were. The threatening tears finally broke the barrier Leah held and you quickly swiped them away as you caught their entrance, keeping your hands on her cheeks as you looked over her.

"What?"

"Did love me or do love me?" You whispered, thumbs tracing her cheek bones, swiping up a stray eyelash of hers in the meanwhile. Her eyes were wide with hope as she looked you over, hands reaching out to pull you closer in fear of letting you go.

"I love you. I love you, Y/N. So much." Her voice cracked with a sob following, lips contorting from a frown to a smile as she wrapped her arms around your neck and buried herself into you as much as she could. You snaked your arms around her back, one hand moving to hold the back of her head as you tried to soothe her with pressing light kisses into her hair. She relished in your hold as she was before leaning back, sniffling before attaching her lips to yours in a delicate kiss.

This felt more right than never before, you think this time, it might work out in the end.

#woso #woso x reader #woso imagines #woso oneshots #woso oneshot #woso imagine #woso fanfic #Leah Williamson imagine #Leah williamson x reader #arsenalwfc #Leah Williamson oneshot #arsenalwfc imagine #wlw #wlw imagine #lgbtq

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tsimvkas · 7 months

Text

summertime friends — mason mount

A/N: hiya 🫶🏻 look who’s back!! so the chainsmokers released a song when they came to my country and it’s about andrew’s bazilian gf and y’all are brazilians in this one 🤭 i really hope you besties enjoy a bit of my culture.

word count: 14.4k | masterlist

content: brazilian!reader, sex, fluff, simp!mase

You knew it wouldn’t be easy when you accepted your boss' offer.

In twenty-two years, you never left Brasil. Born and raised there, you were comfortable with your culture and living with your family and you love your country’s weather, food and people. Is a nice place to live, most of the time. Culturally, it is a partying country with loving, caring, happy and passionate people.

And when you say passionate, you mean it. It doesn’t matter the subject — football, formula one, concerts, festivals. If your people love something, they love something. And this is what you miss the most.

And your family, the happiest people you know, makes you love Brazil even more.

With them, there’s a different confraternization every month. Carnival, Easter, Independence Day. Every holiday is a reason to have a big family lunch with barbecue and cake.

But you couldn’t lie. Moving to another country has been your dream for a long time now. Not only to another country — but to England. When your boss told you a job position was open in Manchester, it only took you two days to think about it and say yes.

Telling your mom hadn’t been easy, and your entire family was insecure about you diving into something so risky, but the decision had been made and deep down you know it was the right one.

And now that you’re living across the world, five months with no pão de queijo, brigadeiro or feijoada, you’re not that sure anymore. You were never the kind of girl to feel homesick, but apparently that was about to change.

“I think I need a drink tonight” you murmured to your computer, attracting Sid’s attention.

“Tough week?” she asked you with a smirk. You’ve been friends with her since day one, when you landed in Manny with nothing more than your suitcase and a dream and headed straight to the office, where they handled everything.

She works in the same place as you, and you love to spend time with her. It was relieving that you were able to make a friend so far away from home, that you’re not actually alone, even though it feels like it sometimes.

“A bit” you sighed. “Let’s go out tonight. I beg”

“Alright babe, we can have a few drinks. What is that that you're used to saying every Friday?”

“Sextou” you smiled. A few weeks ago you explained to her the meaning of sextar, a kind of verb created in Brazil to express happiness with the arrival of Friday.

“Sextou then” Sid chuckled. “Choose the club and let me know”

You did the rest of your work a bit happier, excited to go out with your friend.

“I texted you the address, see you at 9pm?” you smirked at her when you closed your laptop, ready to leave.

“Yes boss” she nodded before giggling. “But you’ll have to bring me one of those later, you know it takes a lot for me to go to clubs”

“I told you you were going to be addicted” you rolled your eyes playfully, wanting some brigadeiros as well. “With Brazilian ingredients they taste even better”

“Now you’ll have to order them in some Brazilian market and make me some. You’re just making your life more difficult” Sid smiled, getting up and kissing your cheek. “See you later”

“I promise we can have a cosy Friday another time” you smiled back at her and Sid made a silly little victory dance.

You were very lucky to have her.

—

You haven't had the chance to know a lot of clubs in Manchester yet, but from the ones you went to, this one is one of your favourites. You found Sid at the entry, giving her a kiss on each cheek. By now, she’s used to it.

“Nice outfit” she said, and you love how she’s always boosting your self-esteem.

You were feeling a bit patriotic today, so your black cropped with the Brazilian flag and cargos was the obvious choice. Combined to your white Nike’s, you were comfortable and feeling beautiful.

You loved going out with Sid, because she is from the comfortable, but pretty, team as well, and you never felt badly dressed around her.

“I loved yours too” you smiled at her. She was also wearing cargos, a bodysuit and a pair of Nike’s, and in your opinion she seemed even more badass with simple outfits.

You made your way inside the club, you and Sid taking the first drink of the night. It was hot inside and soon you were drinking your second glass.

After a few drinks and some songs, a guy approached you and started a conversation. He seemed nice and the topics of his talks entertained you and Sid, so you kept it going. Between dances and drinks you felt happy enough to forget how much you missed home, distracted by your fried and the man talking with you.

“Wanna leave with me tonight?” he whispered in your ear about an hour after he started talking with you. “Don’t need to be right now though…”

You did your best not to roll your eyes and smiled ironically, realising he said the last part when a girl passed by both of you.

“I’ll check with my bestie and let you know” you lied, knowing damn well you wouldn’t leave with him.

“Fine” the man smiled confidently, and you didn’t like the coky tone of his voice. “I’ll be right back then, just need to use the restroom”

When excused himself, you and Sid went to the back of the bar to ask for another round of drinks. You were chatting with her after taking your tequila shot, talking about how that guy obviously went after the girl who passed by you despite him just asking you to leave with him, when someone rested their hand on your shoulder.

“Hey, can I buy you a drink?” the male voice in your ear gave you goosebumps. You couldn’t see his face perfectly due to the flashing lights, but you nodded anyway.

You wouldn’t deny a drink on a night like this. He quickly asked something to the barman, and you had no idea what drink he would chose to give you.

“So” the man started, giving you the glass you just saw the barman delivering to him. “Nice cropped. You’re from Brazil?”

“Yes. And you’re from here, I’ll assume by your accent” you smiled, taking a sip of your drink and widening your eyes in surprise. It was really, really good.

“Yes” he chuckled, proud of the satisfaction expression in your face. “How’d you get here?”

“I’ve accepted a job offer. The company I worked in Brazil had a position here and my boss thought I was good enough to make it”

“I agree with your boss, and I’m glad you accepted the offer, hm…” he paused, not knowing your name yet.

“Y/N” you introduced yourself. “And thank you…”

“Tony”

“In my country, this is the name of old men” you smirked, finishing your drink. It was a really hot night.

“I’m not an old man, I promise” you could hear him giggling.

“I couldn’t tell with all these lights, honestly. My myopia isn’t helping me either” you giggled. “Oh, this is my friend, Sid” you introduced your bestie, who was dancing beside you.

Sid finally looked at who you were talking with and sucked in a breath before greeting him. “This is Tony, Sid.”

Tony laughed, and the sound of his laugh made your heart skip a beat.

“Hi Sid, nice to meet you. Can I buy you a drink as well?” he asked nicely, and your friend nodded, seeming a bit shocked. You were almost asking her what was wrong when Tony called your attention again. “So you just accepted a man’s offer without seeing his face?”

“I mean… It's a hot night. I couldn’t say no to you, could I?” you smiled shyly. Tony’s phrase reminded you of how you mom would always say ‘don’t accept anything from strangers’ and there you were, accepting things from strangers in another country.

He laughed, and for some reason you felt proud to be the one making him laugh. “No, you couldn’t. I’m more than happy to give you another one, then”

“So, why are you offering drinks to me?” you asked, suddenly suspicious.

“I liked you” Tony shrugged. “You’re pretty, and I liked the way you were dancing. I kinda hoped I could ask you out, but I’m pretty sure someone was faster than me. I saw him talking to you”

“Oh, this is sad” you joked, suddenly remembering the man that went to the restroom and never came back. At this point, Sid’s grip on your forearm was beginning to hurt you. “You should’ve talked to me earlier”

“I was nervous about it”

“Well…”

“I know, I know. I deserve to see you leaving with him” he had a pout on his lips, which made you laugh. Hasn't he noticed that the man who ‘asked you out’ disappeared?

“Don’t be so tough on yourself” you smiled.

“Another one?” he asked you, pointing to your empty glass. At this moment, the club’s light dimmed a bit and your breath hitched in your throat. The eyes, the nose. The hair. You would’ve recognised this man anywhere.

Well, anywhere without such strong lights.

“Oh yes” you chuckled. Or choked? You don’t really know. “Uhm, I just need to talk to my friend for a minute”

Mason nodded sheepishly, and you almost screamed. Turning your back to him, you faced Sid with utter panic in your eyes.

“Oh my God” you whispered, trying your best to not make a scene. It’s just a famous footballer, who happens to be one of your biggest crushes, buying you drinks. It happens everyday, right?

“I know” Sid whispered back, reading your mind. “He’s right there”

“Why didn't you tell me?” you continued to whisper, taking deep breaths to calm your mind. You and your friend gave Mason a quick side eye, that he obviously saw. “What should I do?”

“Keep accepting his drinks? Talk with him for the rest of the night? Press him on the counter and kiss him senseless?” Sid practically started daydreaming.

“Sid…”

“Those kinds of things only happen once, Y/N” she interrupted you. “Just go back and play his game”

“Ugh” you groaned at her. “I don’t want to make you a third wheel or something”

“As long as he’s buying me drinks too, that’s ok” she whispered one last time before turning you to face Mason Mount.

You swallowed the gulp in your throat before smiling at him.

“Hello, you’re back” he giggled, making your legs turn into jelly. You took a deep breath and put your phone on the counter, accepting the glass he gave you.

Smirking at you, he pulled his phone in front of yours over the counter, grateful for the new iOS function. You raised an eyebrow at him, not sure if he could see it, but saved his number.

“I think it was love at first sight” Mason finally spoke again. “When I saw you dancing”

“Love doesn't exist, silly” you rolled your eyes at him, momentarily forgetting who he was.

“You really think like this or you’re just dumping me?” he sounded a bit insecure and you felt giddy inside. How could this man think anyone on earth would dump him?

Your eyes went down his body, and you took a sip of your drink before responding. “What do you want, Mason Mount?”

“Oh, so you know me” Mason chuckled. “To be honest, I want you to leave with me, but since someone asked you first, then I’ll enjoy my time whilst he don’t come back”

“He won’t come back. I’m pretty sure he ghosted me”

“I bet he will. With a terrible excuse, by the way. Men, you know…” he shrugged.

“Do you think we could dance until then?” you asked him, suddenly not feeling nervous anymore. He was Mason Mount, yes, but he made you so comfortable that all you could do was see him as a normal person, like you.

And besides him being him, Mason Mount wanted you to leave with him tonight. You’re not stupid, you deserve at least a dance.

Mason smiled at you, holding you by your waist. “She’ll be right back” he whispered to Sid, taking you to the floor dance.

The song had a happy beat and most of the people were screaming the lyrics, but he kept your back pressed against his chest, mirroring your movements. When a Brazilian funk started, you teached him how to dance it, and Mason never laughed so much before, his hands on his knees whilst he was trying to copy your movements, moving his hips.

After three or four songs, you came back to the balcony in the back of the bar and his hands were still in your waist as you didn’t push him back.

“Can’t believe you made him twerk” Sid had a shocked face, and you smiled at her.

“Things like this only happen once, right?” you murmured.

Mason asked for a bottle of water for you, and you rested your body against his. “So” he breathed in your neck, brushing his lips in your skin. “I need to know if you really think love doesn’t exist”

You were taken aback by his question, not expecting it at all. He just met you, and you didn’t think your statement about love would be important to him.

“I think that it might exist, yes” you shrugged, trying to think of a coherent answer while dealing with his lips on your shoulders. “I used to believe it did, but then… I mean, if it does exist, then it doesn’t last long”

“Somebody hurt you?” he rested his face on your shoulder, and you sighed.

“Don’t you think this is too much information to share on a first day?” you try not to sound rude, so you intertwined your fingers with his to show you weren’t mad about the question.

“Sorry” he smiled shyly. “I just feel like I know you for years”

Indeed, it felt like the pair of you knew each other for more than just one night. You had to keep reminding yourself you only know him for an hour, even though you know the public version of him.

“Yeah, somebody hurt me” you admitted.

“Their loss” Mason smiled, pecking your cheek. He made you feel like the pair of you were already into something, acting all touchy and gentle. You have no idea how he’s not scared or worried about reaching out to you when he’s a public person and you could be just someone interested in his money and fame.

You’re not, but he has no way of knowing this.

The guy, who you couldn’t even remember the name, chose this moment to indeed come back and Mason pouted at you. “I know you’re leaving with him” he murmured. “But can we dance to the last one?”

“I’ll dance with my friend” you said to the guy with a smile, not really liking the look he gave. What he expected you to say after he spent an hour ‘in the restroom’? “With my friend Tony and with my friend Sid” you changed your tone so Sid would understand you wanted her to come with you.

The guy — you think his name is Luke, rolled his eyes and sat close to the balcony, like he would wait for you, so when the three of you were in the middle of the dance floor, you brushed your lips against Mason’s ear. “Get us out of here, please”

Mason smirked, taking you by hand as you took Sid’s hand in yours, and walking to the exit whilst messaging Rashford with his free hand. Outside the club, he walked to the biggest car you’ve ever seen and opened the door for you both, helping you and Sid to get in.

“Do you feel okay enough to drive?” you asked him when he settled himself behind the wheel.

“Yes ma’am. We’ll just wait for Rashy so we can decide what to do now” he blinked at you.

Once Marcus finally appeared, the four of you decided where to go.

“I think we need an after party” he smiled. “Like, go really crazy and that stuff. You know you just interrupted me right now”

“Gross” Mason rolled his eyes before shrugging. “Well, we’re on our vacation… it will take us an entire season to be allowed to drink like this again”

“Alright then, let’s drink”

Mason adjusted his seatbelt and Marcus searched for somewhere to go, contacting friends.

“Are you drunk enough to crash a party?” Marcus grinned, raising an eyebrow to Mason. The way he started the engine had your tummy fluttering, and you felt a bit ashamed of the things you thought.

“Whose party?” he cocked an eyebrow back at Rashford.

“A Man City one” was the answer, and you looked at Sid to confirm you heard right.

The car stayed in silence for two seconds before Mason cackled.

“Let’s do it” he said with a cocky tone, speeding up the car and following Marcus’ instructions.

You know Mason shouldn’t be driving after drinking and you shouldn’t be drunk in a stranger’s car but you couldn’t deny that you were excited to do whatever the four of you were about to do.

“I have something to ask you” you held Mason’s seat, getting closer to his face.

“Anything”

“We’ll take an Uber to come back from the party. You drink a lot already and it’ll be worse by the end of the night”

“Really?” he smirked. “You saw me drinking?”

You took a moment to think. “No, but Rashford asked-”

“I have a drunk spirit” he whispered, smiling. “I’m always drunk enough, cause I don’t need to be drunk. You’ll know I had a few drinks when you see my ‘few drinks version’, I promise. And I would never drive if I want to get drunk” he looked at you through the car’s mirror and you nodded.

“It’s there” Marcus screamed, excitedly pointing to a club’s entry and making the three of you laugh.

Mason parked in front of it, and an employee quickly came to manoeuvre his car. Giving him the keys, Mason helped you and Sid to get out of the huge car, and the four of you stared at the club.

“So, what do we do now?”

“We enter” Sid shrugged. “We just need to act like we’re supposed to be here. And you two, don’t look him directly in the eyes. He’ll recognise you and know you’re little tiny Red Devils trying to make a mess”

“You sounded like a Brazilian right now” you giggled, and Mason frowned at you.

“She just called us little and tiny?”

Without even hearing Mason, she grabbed Marcus’ arm and walked to the security guard. “Sorry sir.” the man stopped Marcus. “We are closed to a private party tonight”

“I know that” Marcus smiled.

“Your name is on the list?” the guard asked, holding a tablet with, probably, the list on it.

“I don’t need a name on the list” Mason snorted, and you tried not to laugh.

“I can’t let you enter if your name isn’t on the list” the man looked at Mason. “I’m sorry”

“Do you know who are they?” you entered the conversation, taking Mason by hand and walking to look into the security guard's eyes. He seemed pretty young for his job and you thought you could put some pressure on him. “They own City Football Club”

“I don’t think so” he played it cool but you could see his eyes widening.

“Look… Carl” you read the name on his badge. “They’re like a father to City”

“There are controversies” Sid giggled, and Marcus left an indignant sight.

“But you all look so young” Carl frowned.

“Thank you” you smiled. “Now, if you don’t let us in to celebrate Ederson’s birthday, he’ll be really pissed” you bit your lower lip with a false concern.

“How do you know that-” Mason tried to say, but you elbowed him.

“Sorry, ma’am” Carl gulped, taking a step aside and smiling shyly. “Now your top makes sense”

“It does?” Rashford seemed confusingly drunk.

“She’s wearing the Brazilian flag because Ederson is Brazilian”

“That’s correct, Carl! Have a good night” you smiled at him, pulling Mason inside and hoping Sid would do the same with Marcus before they both could talk anything else.

“What was that?” Mason gasped when you both were out of the guard’s view.

“They call it ‘Brazilian way’, a talent most of us were born with” you proudly smirked. “In essence, is about how we make all relationships personal ones, breaking with the social rules that should apply to everyone”

“Nice” Mason laughed, shaking his head in the rhythm of the music. Marcus and Sid joined the pair of you, and Rashford started to awkwardly dance.

“One thing about City that we can’t deny — they know how to party” he kept dancing and Mason rolled his eyes.

“Well, after so many years partying it’s practically an obligation for them to know” Sid shrugged and you nodded.

Mason giggled when Rodri passed by the four of you without noticing anything weird. “Should we stay unnoticed?”

Before you could say anything, Marcus made his decision.

“Good night guys, sleep well” he started to scream whilst walking to the exit pretending to leave, and you couldn’t help but laugh. “It was a great night, I loved it”

“Drinks were incredible as always” Mason followed his friend's steps. “You guys really know how to party”

“What the hell?” Grealish was the first one to get up and walk in their direction. “I’m not that drunk, right? I’m not seeing ghosts yet”

“Yet?” Mason burst into laughter. “Do you see ghosts often?”

“What the fuck are you two doing here” Phil giggled, approaching the four of you and clapping his mates’ hands.

“And the bastards even brought company” Dias got closer. “Why are you at a City party? Thought about joining us?”

“We were bored, and where Jack is, there’s also alcohol” Mason rolled his eyes playfully. “This is Y/N and Sid”

“Nice to meet you, girls” Ruben smiled, shaking hands with both of you. When he held yours for more than a moment, Mason slapped his arm. “Ouch?”

“Take your hands off of her” he tried to say it playfully, but the tone of his voice went a bit huskier than he intended to.

“Oh, I see. Your girl?” Rubens chuckled, raising an eyebrow at him.

“Not yet” he smirked, making you choke in silence.

“She’s too much for you” Jack teased, receiving a slap as well. “Stop doing this”

They started a fake fight, and you held back the desire to record it.

“Hey!” Stones suddenly screamed. “Bring your drunk asses back here”

“I’m not drunk” Mason screamed back.

It was nice to see him around his friends, so comfortable and… normal. Nothing like a famous footballer. It reminded you about you and your own friends, teasing each other, getting drunk together, being loud and silly.

“Nobody asked you” Foden slapped his head and you chuckled.

“Saw something funny?” Mason smiled at you, walking towards you to tickle your waist.

You started to laugh before he even touched you. “Oh no, don’t do this” you tried to dodge. “I’ll probably laugh so loud and it’ll be embarrassing”

“Are you encouraging me?” he grinned, reaching out to you and tickling your body.

You tried to choose between breathing or speaking while laughing, slapping his shoulders in an attempt to make him stop.

“Alright let them love each other, you two come with me” Jack talked to Sid and Rashy. “We have the best alcohol in the world”

“You could say, since you already had alcohol in every corner of the planet” Ruben teased him.

He laughed, finishing his beer. “You can’t blame me, I’m a taster”

When Mason finally stopped, he guided you to where Stone was, holding you against his chest once you got there and Sid came to your side with a drink, offering to you. “Jack was right, it’s the best alcohol in the world” she giggled. “And it’s pink!”

The four of you had a lot of fun, dancing and drinking till late. Mason really stayed the whole night without drinking alcohol, so you kept bringing different juices flavours to him, and he would drink them all and rate from the ones he liked to the ones he hated.

Every time you would come back to him with a new glass, Mason felt his heart warm at the fact you kept remembering he wasn’t drinking alcohol, and he couldn’t help but smile when you asked him how good each flavour was.

He doesn't know how to explain the instant connection he felt with you, but you seemed so pure hearted, gentle, caring and bright, and since the moment he saw you dancing he started to think that this is exactly the type of people he wants around. The type of woman he wants to wake up next to.

After two hours drinking more than he could take, Marcus gave up. “I’m starving man, I need to sleep” he mumbled at his friend when you were giving mango juice in Mason’s mouth, his hands in your waist. “Wow, this is disgustingly adorable. I wanna throw up”

You and Sid laughed at the way he was speaking, seeming like he was about to fall asleep any moment.

“I think we’re good to go, Mase” you smiled at him, staring at his tired eyes. He seemed happy, but exhausted. You smiled when he licked his lips clean. “Good one?”

“Yeah” he murmured. “Do you wanna eat something?” he asked gently, tucking your hair behind your ear.

“McDonald’s” Marcus quickly interrupted, desperate to eat, and Sid nodded when Mason looked at her.

“I bet you wanna go to Maccies” you teased as he looked at you, waiting for your answer.

“But he won’t go if you say no so please, say yes” Rashford gave you his best pout, and you smiled.

“McDonald’s seems pretty good” you laughed, waiting for the boys to say their goodbyes and following them to Mase’s car.

You and Sid went to the backseat and both of you spent the ride gushing and gossiping, whilst Mason and Rashford talked about something. If you stayed quiet for a second, you would’ve known he was talking about you.

On the line for the Drive Thru, Mason turned to ask what you and Sid wanted and, and after ordering and paying he parked in the empty parking lot.

The four of you ate between laughs and jokes, and it felt nice. You wished you could have moments like this all the time.

“I need to use the restroom before we go” Sid told you, asking Mason to unlock the car.

“I’ll go with you so you don’t walk through the parking lot alone” Marcus offered, leaving only you and Mason in the car.

“So…” you started, a bit nervous about being alone with him.

“The only male pout that can make you accept something it’s mine” he turned to look at you. “Got it?”

You cocked an eyebrow at him, finding it funny. “Alright, sir. Anything else?”

“For now, we’re good” he blew you a kiss.

You could still feel the alcohol in your system whilst you stared at him for a few seconds, not even realising when your body leaned in his direction. Mason turned his face even more in your direction and you held on to his seat, your right hand went to cup his face. You brushed his lower lip with the pad of your thumb, and Mason smiled.

“They need to come back before I do something dumb” you murmured, so close to his face that your nose was almost touching his.

“Something dumb? What do you want to do?” he smiled cockily, so close that his breath hit your face.

You kissed his nose, and Mason closed his eyes.

Squeezing your body between the space of the two front seats, you held his face with both hands and kissed his forehead. Then his eyebrows, his eyelids, his cheeks and his chin.

“Why are you teasing me?” he murmured, not wanting to break the atmosphere.

“It’s funny. Right now you don’t look like the man flirting with me in the bar” you continued to tease.

Mason opened his eyes, staring at you for a few seconds before pecking your lips. “Are you sure of it?”

You grinned, brushing your nose against his and leaning closer to him in the exact moment Marcus opened the car’s door to Sid with more strength than it was necessary, scaring you both.

She tilted her head to the side, raising an eyebrow at you whilst Rashford helped her get into the car. He closed the door for her, and the three of you silently waited for him to get in.

“Ugh, I need my pillow” he groaned, oblivious to the tension. “And a lot of sleep”

“Seatbelt” Mason asked him, and his voice sounded low key grumpy.

You gave Mason your address, and soon he was in your front porch line.

“Thank you guys, have a good night” Sid waved at them, unlocking the door and jumping out. You could tell she was ready for a good gossiping session.

“Good night Sid” Mason smiled at her, and Marcus rolled down the car window to mess up her hair.

“Good night” you smiled, tucking your face between the front seats and kissing Mason’s cheek. “Thank you for tonight”

“I’m the thankful one, Y/N” he smiled sheepishly, apparently forgetting how angry he was at Marcus and Sid for interrupting both of you.

“And where’s my kiss?” Marcus said playfully, making you laugh.

You were about to join in his joke when Mason held your wrist. “Don’t even think about it” he said.

“Sorry, Marcus” you cackled.

“What a jealousy prick” Rashford shook his head. “Good night, Y/N. Hope we see you soon”

You jumped out of the car, closing the door and waving at them through Marcus’ window.

Mason waited for the pair of you to enter the house before leaving, and as soon as you locked the door you and Sid started to scream.

“He’s so adorable” you whined.

“So, you were about to kiss him when we got back?”

“I think so?” you pouted, heading with her to your bedroom. “He’s so cute. And sometimes he’s a bit cocky but he’s always so sweet”

Both of you changed into comfy pyjamas and Sid jumped in your bed.

“I was going to tease you about meeting him today and already falling but he’s Mason Mount, you’ve probably fallen for him a long ago” she smirked, tickling you when you laid by her side.

You chuckled, rolling your eyes. “Shut up Sid”

—

“Dec, I think I love her” Mason sighed for the hundredth time on the call.

He dropped Marcus at his before calling Declan to tell him every detail of what happened tonight.

“Bro” Declan laughed at his desperate friend. “You just met”

“In person, yes. But our souls were connected way before tonight” Mason whined, remembering your smile, the way you chose different juices for him, how you ate your fries drowning them on ice cream.

“Oh my Jesus” Declan screamed through the phone, waking up Kai and laughing even harder. “What the hell is this?”

“You’ll see… we’ll get married in some beach in Brazil, I’ll drink coconut water for the rest of my life and my daughter will call me ‘papai’, buddy”

“And you’ll learn Spanish” Kai murmured, only hearing the last part. He could be irritated because he was woken up, but he missed Mason’s voice. And he would never tell anyone that.

“Are you dumb? They speak Portuguese, like Portugal” Mason smiled proudly, even though they couldn’t see. “I searched while we waited for the hundredth shot of the night. Hi Kai”

“Hi big Mase. So you’re almost dating, huh?”

“Shut up, you’ll make his delusional ass go crazier. You’re already searching for things about Brazil?” Declan teased him.

“I want her to know I care” Mason replied, finally getting home. He quickly parked and got inside, ready for sleep as much as he could.

“Mason… you haven’t even kissed her, mate” Declan tried not to laugh.

“But I’ll” he said, confident.

“For God's sake” Kai blurted out with a muffled voice against the pillow and Mason giggled at his friend's reaction, but his faith was unshakable.

He felt so confident about you. He saw in your eyes, the way you shivered at his touch and how you looked at him.

Things he would never tell Declan or Kai, of course. First, he doesn't want to hear the tease, and second, they wouldn’t understand.

“Right. Now go to bed” Dec instructed. “You need to rest”

“Why is Kai with you?” he tried not to sound jealous. And he failed.

“Coincidentally, we came to sign the contract on the same day and they put us into the same hotel room” he cackled. “We’re besties now”

“Don’t be jealous, Mase” Kai teased.

“Why would I? I have Y/N now” Mason hummed.

“You see? He already forgot us” Declan accused him. “Fine, now go to bed. You have to take your United pictures tomorrow”

“How do you know that?” Kai asked Rice, and Mason tried not to laugh.

“Don’t need to be jealous, Kai” Mason teased him back, obeying them and taking off his clothes before tucking himself in his bed.

“Shut up” Havertz snorted, making both Dec and him laugh.

“Ugh” Mason complained. “So boring sleeping with you two on the phone after meeting the love of my life”

“C’mon Mason, shut up” his Arsenal boys laughed. “I hope you’re already tucked in bed”

“I am, sir. Rice. Just looking for her number so I can say hello” he bit a smile, even though no one could see him.

“Are you going to text her now?” Declan sighed in disbelief.

“I’m just saying good night. You’re so boring, Dec. I’ll remember this when you ask me to be my little girls’ godparent”

“Which team does she support?” Kai suddenly asked. “The love of your life, I mean” and Mason knew he was rolling his eyes.

“We didn’t mention football”

It seems egocentric to mention his job on the first night, especially because he’s used to everyone knowing who he is, so there’s no reason to talk about football.

“It’ll be funny if she turns out to be a City or Liverpool fan” Kai mocked. “I hope she’s a City girl”

“She’s Brazilian. I don’t think she loves an England team with her soul, so we’re out of trouble” Mount said, trying to sound indifferent.

“You’d be surprised, the Prem is pretty famous there”

“How do you know that?” Mason frowned.

“If I was you, I’d hope she’s not a big fan of the team we destroyed at the Club World Cup” Kai giggled, ignoring the question. “Or the one that beat up Chelsea a decade ago”

“Did you know that their goalkeeper is still a current player?” Declan commented. “How is that possible, they don’t get old?”

These two will drive him crazy.

“You’ve been doing your research as well, uh?” Mason teased.

“I'm the Sebastian Vettel of football, I know everything” Rice said with a cocky tone.

Forgetting his friends on the phone for a moment, he texted you.

Mason thought it was cute how you misspelt the word ‘too’, probably because too and two can have the same sound to a non native speaker.

He wouldn’t correct you though. If the pair of you were speaking, it was only because you learned his language. And if he got what you meant, then it was all that matters.

“Alright” Mason yawned. “Sleep well you two”

“You texted her?” the most gossiping man in the world asked.

“Yes, Declan. She’s probably sleeping, won’t reply now” he lied. He loves his friends, but he wanted to keep your silly little conversation only to him. “Talk to you tomorrow”

“Good night Mase” Kai groaned, turning around ready to sleep again.

“And good luck with your girl” Dec teased.

He wouldn’t be nothing without his boys.

—

Living in Manchester for about six months now, you made some friends. Most of them are from work, some of them from the clubs you and Sid like to go.

Your life has been really good. You like the tiny house the company got for you, the coffee shop you visit every morning, the chance to speak a language you like a lot.

And the guy you met a month ago.

You and Mason text almost everyday. He’s a sweet guy, and you always feel a bit giddy when talking with him.

His season started and he was really excited about it, so you felt awful to know he got injured only in his second game. He seems so full of life, and picturing him without his bright spirit for being unable to play made you so fucking sad.

In one of your conversations he said to you that the worst part about injuries, besides being away from the pitch, was that he felt lonely. His friends were training, playing games, travelling for the away ones… and he only had physio. Physio, physio and physio.

Since then, you tried to talk with him every time you could, about the most nonsense stuff. You’d ask about the physio, always, but so about what he ate that day, his favourite places around the world, the favourite games he played. And he’d ask about you, and your country, something you love to talk about.

Sid blurted out about it in the office one day, and your new friends didn't like the news that much. Maybe because they were all City fans? But one of them seemed really upset about it.

“He’s not a good guy” Nick said. “He looks like a good guy but I’m sure he’s rude, ignorant, selfish and violent”

“I mean, he can be violent with me if he wants to-” you said automatically, and Sid bursted into laughter.

“Gross, Y/N” Nick complained, rolling his eyes. “Be careful with him”

“Sure, Nick. Don’t worry” you smiled politely before saying goodbye and leaving with Sid.

“Well, he’s definitely into you” she chuckled.

“What? Nick?” you frowned. “This is a weird way to demonstrate”

“Or he’s just a massive hater of Mason” she shrugged.

The thought made your stomach churn. How could anyone hate Mason? He’s such a good person, all smiley and friendly.

“Speaking of him…” you smirked when your phone buzzed.

“What?”

You smiled shyly, showing Sid his texts.

“Go home and get ready” you said to her. “I’ll pick you up and we can have McDonald’s on our way to Old Trafford”

Sid didn’t even questioned, nodding at you before you both went into separate ways.

You hurried home and took a quick shower, wearing a basic all black outfit and heading to Sid’s home, and soon the pair of you were eating Maccies, giggling and gushing about the game whilst you drove there.

—

He did win the game.

Mason didn’t play the entire match, but his first half was incredible and he even assisted Casemiro.

“Casemiro is Brazilian so Mason def did this to you” Sid said jokingly. “Being delulu is the solulu, you know”

You rolled your eyes at her, texting Mase to let him know that you were leaving. He wouldn’t be able to see you now, anyways.

When you were leaving the stadium, your phone started ringing with an upcoming call from him. “Um, hello?” you said apprehensively.

“Why are you leaving so soon?”

“I’ll wake up really early tomorrow” you giggled. “But I heard you’re playing again this Saturday, uh? Am I invited to this one?”

“You’re invited to every single ga-ame” he hummed, making your heart skip a beat. “I’ll send you the tickets for Saturday”

“You were amazing tonight. I swear, you were everywhere on that pitch” you took the opportunity to praise him. He was indeed an incredible player and you felt like telling him that.

“Oh he’s blushing” you heard Rashy in the background and for some reason you blushed too.

What the hell are you doing with your life, honestly?

“Shut up” Mason murmured to him. “Thank you, Y/N. I really appreciate it. See you soon, uh? Drive sa-afe” he hummed again before disconnecting the call, and you felt your heart melting. What a cutie kiddo he can be sometimes.

You happily drove back home, and before dropping Sid at hers you gushed your worries at your friend.

“Do you think I should go? On Saturday?” you bit your lower lip, insecure.

“Why wouldn’t you? He obviously has some kind of crush on you, might become something later… don’t overthink, Y/N, just go for it” she squeezed your thigh.

What would you be without Sid? Absolutely nothing.

“Bit late for that, I’m overthinking since the first night” you rolled your eyes, but smiled thankfully at her.

“Well, stop it then” she shrugged. “I already told you, things like this don't happen everyday. If you want, take it. If you don’t, say goodbye cause it will def be taken from you if you let”

“Ouch” you frowned, and she chuckled.

“See you tomorrow” she kissed your cheek and got out of the car, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

You spent the rest of the week thinking about her words. Despite talking to Mason everyday you didn’t tell him you were coming, so when you actually showed up Saturday he was surprised to see you at the end of the game.

He played great, again, and you were over the moon for him, happy that you were able to watch him playing and be his friend. Mason texted you where to meet him and after giving you a hug, he took his time to appreciate you. “Nice dress” he smirked.

You chose a dark red flowy dress with sleeves that ends up to your knees, to match your red Nike’s and you were feeling really pretty, so Mason’s compliment made you smile.

“Thank you. I don’t usually wear dresses but it’s been so hot lately” you shrugged. “Nice game today, you were amazing again. Being everywhere and having an excellent vision of the game”

Mason smiled, enjoying your praises and the way you talked about football. “I’m glad you liked the game, Y/N” he tucked your hair behind your ear and looked around you. ”Where’s Sid?”

“She had plans for tonight” you smiled, raising your hand to fix his messy hair but stopping in the middle of the way.

He tilted his head to the side, smiling back at you and holding your waist, guiding your hand to his hair. “Interesting. So you’re free tonight?”

“What are you thinking about?” you stood on your tiptoes for a better vision of his hair.

“Um, I wished we could have a proper night together, like dinner night or something but I need another shower first… would you like to- it’s okay if you don’t want to, but we could have dinner at my place?”

“It doesn’t seem like an actual date” you joked, looking in his eyes and finally happy with his hair.

“You can wait for me to get ready and I can take you to some fancy restaurant” Mason pouted, making you pout too.

“Dinner at yours sounds nice, Mase. I’m just teasing you”

“Uh there’s only a problem” he scratched the back of his head. “I’ll take my car and pick you here, but if you don’t want papz pics you’ll need to lay down on the backseat” he pouted again. “I’m sorry”

“Go grab your mini truck” you rolled your eyes teasingly.

“You just call it a truck cause you can’t get in by yourself”

This man is learning how to piss you off. Honestly.

“Whatever” you shrugged, and Mason laughed before running to where his car was parked.

You actually laid down on the back seat. It’s too soon to be photographed in his car, as you don’t even know Mason’s intentions. Yes, he’s still talking to you but you can’t rule out the possibility of this being only a distraction to him.

“It’s safe now” he told you, and you sat properly, bursting into laughter. “What’s so funny?”

“I’ve never done this before” you shrugged. “Like, hiding from paparazzi. But to be fair, I never entered a footballer’s car before either”

“Ugh, I’m sorry for this. They can be pretty annoying” Mason sighed, and you imagined how tired he probably is of hiding stuff.

“It’s funny tho” you tried to lighten the mood, and it seemed to work because he gave you a big smile.

“We’re ho-ome” he hummed like a child before parking and turning the engine off, and the way he spoke like you lived together made your stomach churn.

Get your shit together, Y/N. You just met him.

Mason got out of the car and quickly opened the door for you, extending his hand.

Realising he was trying to hold his laugh and refusing to give in, you decided to get out without help.

“Oh so we’re doing this?” Mason chuckled when you ignored his hand. “Fine”

In a second, you were hanging on his shoulder.

“Mason!” you squirmed, feeling the blood running to your head, but his arms only held you stronger. It felt good, though. He has big arms.

“Alright” he stood you up. “Welcome to my safe space”

“It’s beautiful. And huge” you looked around, impressed.

“I like to own huge things, if you haven’t noticed. A huge car, huge house, you know” he smirked and held your hand, taking you with him. “This is my living room, and there” he pointed with his finger. “Is my kitchen”

“You’ll cook here tonight?” you raised an eyebrow at him.

“It depends — do you like pasta? It’s the only dish I know how to cook good enough” he guided you upstairs.

“I love pasta”

“So I’ll cook tonight. Here’s one of the bathrooms” he opened a door, and you thought that his bathroom could be bigger than your entire room back in Brazil. “The guest room” he opened another door. “And my room. Ugh, I love this place” he sighed, happy to be home after a tiring day.

“Your room suits you” you smiled, breathing his smell all over the place. The white sheets and neutral decor is comfortable to your eyes. “Feels cosy”

“So I feel cosy?”

“Kinda off” you blushed.

Mason took a minute to look at you, and you felt shy wondering what he was thinking.

“It’s crazy, isn’t it?” he broke the silence. “Like, you’re in my house right now. I don’t even know why I brought you here — like, please don’t get it wrong, I just-“

“I got it” you chuckled. “I don’t even know why I came either”

He brushed your jaw and smiled at you before sighing.

“You can sit in my bed while I shower. Or you can look around the house. Just don’t try to open the front door cause I always lock it and the security system is really loud” he joked.

“Don’t worry sir., I’m not running. Yet” you smirked.

“Good” he tucked your hair behind your ear. “I’ll be right back”

You nodded, instantly feeling awkward when he entered his bathroom. Without knowing what to do, you sat on his bed and waited, texting Sid in the meantime.

You blushed, rolling your eyes even though Sid couldn’t see you.

Mason didn’t take long, coming back with only a towel wrapped around his waist. “Sorry, I forgot to bring my shorts with me” he smiled shyly, but your mind wasn’t there anymore to hear it.

The sight of his bare torso and the water drops falling from his hair, stopping only when they’d reach the towel, took your breath. You tried to take Sid’s words out of your mind, but it was impossible.

He’s too hot for you to handle it.

“Y/N? Everything’s alright?” he hooked his fingers under your chin, lifting your head, and you haven’t even realised he was that close. He had a cocky smile when you locked your eyes with his and you knew he saw your gaze all over his body.

“Yes?” you tried to breathe, thankful you didn’t stutter.

“C’mere” he smiled, offering his hand for you to hold. When did he wear his shorts? You have no idea.

Blinking to settle your mind, you held his hand, intertwining your fingers together.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Mason asked you one more time whilst he was leading you to the hall. He turned to face you when you didn’t respond, his expression a bit concerned. “We don’t need to eat if you’re not feeling well”

“I’m fine Mase” you smiled at him, feeling bad for liking the way he was worried about you. “It’s just…”

“What? What is wrong?” he stopped in the middle of his hall, brushing your jaw.

“You’re so hot, it’s making me dizzy” you blurted out, looking everywhere but his eyes.

Mason chuckled, the concern in his eyes turning into surprise and then into lust. “So that’s what’s wrong?”

“I just fed your ego, right?” you whimpered, and he laughed loudly.

“A bit, baby. Can you stop looking away?”

“No? I’m ashamed” you admitted, feeling the blood rushing to your cheeks.

“For thinking I’m hot?” he hooked his fingers under your chin, lifting your head.

“For not being able to hold my shit together just because you appeared shirtless” You finally looked at his face, his smirk sending shivers to your body. You wouldn’t like to admit it, but you stared at his lips for long seconds before your gaze met his.

“It was intentional though, I’m sorry” he chuckled, brushing your lower lip with his thumb.

“Whatever” you mumbled, grabbing his neck and kissing his lips.

Mason were definitely surprised by your actions, but it only took him a couple of seconds to hold your waist and press you against the hallway wall, groaning into your mouth.

The pair of you spent a few minutes lost in the kiss, getting to know each other’s intentions and intensity.

He pressed you against the wall, grabbing your tights to hold you in his lap. You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him closer.

“What do you want from me?” you murmured against his lips.

It was an internal question but Mason heard it and you had to hold onto his shoulders emotional support when he answered with his voice a bit huskier. “Everything”

You were actually kissing this man? Like, for real?

When Mason tightened his grip on your waist you rocked your hips against his, involuntarily.

He groaned in your mouth, trailing kisses down your neck and tucking his face in your shoulders. Yes, the friction was too good but he didn’t want to scare you. Despite that he wants you for a long time now, it’s the first time he has an actual chance.

Taking a deep breath, Mason pulled his face to look in your eyes, his hand reaching for your chin.

“But kissing you is enough for me now, baby. I’m more than happy with that” he said softly, reassuring you.

You thought it was really cute how caring and lovely he can be, but you had other plans.

It’s true, you were holding back until now. He’s fucking Mason Mount, and you’re just… Y/N. And the way he seemed obsessed with you since the first day made you so scared.

Scared of being the one who falls later, but deeper.

Now that you really kissed him, after shy pecks in the back of bars, you feel like you can’t stop.

“Is not enough for me, though” you whispered, and Mason stayed quiet, waiting for you to keep talking. Before you could let your insecurities speak louder and make you give up, you reached for his hand on your face, sliding two of his fingers into your opened mouth and surprising him.

Mason tried not to moan — he tried so hard.

But your warm tongue between his fingers and the way you’re sucking him made him think how it would be to feel your mouth in other places of his body.

“Fuck” he breathed, all the innocent image he had of you going away. “Y/N…”

You left his fingers with a pop, kissing him with another level of urgency. “I want you”

“I need to know what and how you like it first” Mason looked at you with concerned eyes, which made you smile. You could count on your fingers how many guys you’ve met were concerned about what you liked, instead of pleasing themselves first.

“Dirty talk” you chuckled, rocking against him one more time, his sweat shorts making it possible for you to feel his bulge completely. “It depends on the situation, but a bit of degradation as well”

“So you’re a little slut, aren’t you?” he smirked, and you felt your cheeks blushing again. Feels different when someone asks you what you’re into instead of assuming.

“Surprised? I’m not the princess you thought I were?” you cocked an eyebrow at him.

“No” Mason shook his head. “You’re still my princess, just hornier than I thought. I like it”

“What about you?” you kissed the tip of his nose. “Do you have any kinks?”

“Uh no” he blushed, and you thought he couldn’t get prettier than he was at this moment.

“I don’t believe you” you grinned. “Be a good boy and tell me, please?” but by the way his eyes sparkled, you already knew.

“Maybe I like to be praised” he murmured, tucking his head in the crook of your neck.

“So obedient… and pretty. I want to ride you so bad” you whispered in his ear, and Mason choked, pulling his head away so he could look at you with widened eyes. In a second, you were back at his room.

“I didn’t expect you to act like this at all- but this is so much better than what I expected anyways” he sighed, laying you in his bed and kissing your neck again. “Do you like rush sex or?”

The way he wanted to be sure of how you wanted him to fuck you made your heart melt. “Take your time, Mase”

“Good. I don’t want to rush with you” he kissed your neck, whispering with a hoarse voice. “I want to fuck you slowly. Taste you on my tongue first”

“What else?” you closed your eyes, grabbing his hair.

“Stretch you out with my fingers” he murmured against your lips. “And only then, have you clenching around my dick”

His words made you clench around nothing and you whined, that desperate feeling already taking over you. “Mm-hmm, please. I want this so bad” you whispered. “So bad, Mason”

“Not more than me” he slid his hands under your dress, leaving open mouthed kisses on your throat whilst your hand ran through his hair.

The top of your dress was tight and you didn’t need a bra, which helped Mason to brush your already hard nipples with the pad of his thumb.

“Such a beautiful dress” he murmured, rocking his hips against yours, and you could feel his hardening cock on your thigh. “Let’s not ruin it, right?”

You nodded, giving him permission to take your dress off, and Mason did it, his hands exploring your body, grabbing your thigh and squeezing your bum in the process.

You let out a soft moan when he played with the strap of your panties, sliding them down your legs and quickly finding his way in the middle of your thighs.

He took his time to admire your naked body before he used two fingers to part your folds, admiring how wet you were for him.

The pair of you stayed in silence for a moment, feeling the tension between you. His fingers played at your entrance and without you noticing he pushed two in, eliciting from you the filthiest moan he ever heard.

“Gonna call out my name like a little slut?” he finally spoke again, one of his hands stroking your waist.

“Mase-“ you spread your legs further, your hands grabbing the sheets.

“Just like that” he smiled, watching his finger disappearing inside you as you dripped for him.

You moaned his name again when he made a scissoring motion with his fingers, leaning his body over you so his mouth could find the way to your breasts, and your hands went straight to his hair.

Mason gave attention to your sensitive nipples, licking and sucking them whilst fingering your cunt, enjoying the way you were all soft moans and breathy underneath him.

When the willingness to taste you was too overwhelming, he trailed his kisses to your neck and jaw, murmuring dirty things against your ear. “Can I have a taste of you?”

“There’s nothing you can’t have tonight” you murmured, rolling your eyes at the feeling of his curled fingers inside of you.

Mason chuckled, kissing your lips before lowering his body without taking his fingers off of you, his lips finding the way to your thighs. He kissed them, brushing his nose against your clit and shivering at your filthy noises.

You curled your fingers on his hair, unconsciously trying to bring him closer, which made him giggle. “Patience, baby. I’ll get there” he murmured, getting his fingers out and teasing your core with a kiss.

When you thought he was about to tease for a few moments more, he pushed his tongue inside of you, making you clench around it.

Mason ate you out, his tongue sliding through your wet folds whilst he brushed your clit with his nose.

He groaned at the taste of you, the vibration making you moan. You were so warm, velvet and tasty that he thought he wanted this moment to last forever, his tongue exploring you like this.

When you felt you were about to reach your climax, you pushed him away, making him lay on his back, and Mason obliged, looking up at you like you were a goddess.

You quickly slid his shorts down his legs, tossing it onto the floor and admiring his hard and long dick pressed against his belly. “No boxers?” you cocked an eyebrow at him.

“He likes to be a free spirit” he chuckled, and a wave of excitement coursed through Mason’s body as your hands squeezed his thighs.

You sat on his thigh and took him in your hand, stroking him a few times and spreading his precum through his length.

Mason groaned when you lowered yourself onto him, feeling your eyes watering a bit at the burning sensation.

“Fuck, you’re so big” you whined, trying to get comfortable.

“Thank you?” Mason chuckled, tightening his grip on your waist and resisting the urge to lift his hips.

After a moment to adjust around his cock, you took his hand to your stomach. “So fucking big, I can feel you here”

Mason grinned, biting his lower lip. “You’re pressing me so tight baby, it feels so good”

You rocked your hips against his. “No, Mase. You are filling me so well” you slowly started to bounce on top of him, resting your hands on his chest for support and murmuring. “So good it makes me wanna scream your name”

“You should do it” Mason squeezed your ass self-indulgently, eliciting a loud moan from your lips. “Just like that, pretty girl. You’re gripping around me so desperately hard, Y/N. Such a dirty thing to do. And it feels like heaven every time”

You rolled your eyes, moving harder. After the way he’s been touching you for the last thirty minutes, your body is begging for you to reach your orgasm. “Shit, you’re so good with your words”

Mason felt his own climax coming embarrassingly fast, so he started to guide you with his words, to be sure you would come first.

“You’re enjoying fucking yourself on my dick?” he murmured, and you were sure his grip on your waist would leave a mark.

“Mason-” you gasped, your nails scratching his chest, your body bouncing even faster on top of him.

“Um? You’re such a whore, bouncing on top of me and begging for me. You wanna cum around my cock? You want me to make you cum?”

You nodded, incapable of thinking straight with your tights burning and his dick hitting the perfect spot. “I’m so close” you cried out.

Mason smirked when your legs threatened to fail, quickly changing your position and laying you on your back.

“Close your eyes and relax, babe. Mase will take care of you now” he whispered to you with the most cocky of tones, kissing your jaw and starting to thrust his hips.

You cupped his face so you could kiss him, but the way he kept hitting your soft spot with the same rhythm and pressure got you paralysed by pleasure, your mouth open and your eyes shut.

“Look at me” Mason groaned, feeling his own orgasm growing inside him. “I want to look in your eyes whilst I guide you through the best orgasm you’ve ever had”

Trying to keep your eyes open, you placed your forehead against him, whispering his name when his dick twitched inside of you.

Mason quickly attached his thumb to your swallow clit and started to rub gentle circles to help you, and it was too much for you.

“Mase- oh my God“ you whimpered, feeling everything spin. “You’re so good. Fuck, you’re so good”

“Mm-hmm, let it go for me babe. Be a good girl for Mase, uh?” he whispered in your ear, your praise feeding his ego.

His words triggered your orgasm, and the way you clenched so tight around his dick had him coming with you, incapable of holding it any more.

You dropped your head back onto the pillow, too tired to speak anything else. But fuck, this man just ruined sex to you and you have no idea how to feel about it.

Mason rested on top of you for a few minutes and you could feel him going soft inside of you.

When the pair of you rested a bit after you activities, Mason got up and cleaned you, grabbing one of his shirts for you. He cooked pasta — a really good one, you need to admit, and you had a little silly dinner, filled with jokes and gossips from Manchester United.

You spent the night at his, cuddling in your sleep, and felt cosy, warm and right.

And even though you know his world is different from yours, and you kept yourself reminded of the danger in catching feelings for someone with a life like his, you couldn’t stop yourself from giggling when he woke you up next morning, with kisses that felt like rays of sunshine on your skin.

Once Mason dropped you home Sunday morning, you knew you were fucked up. And not in the way you were last night.

—

You were feeling a bit insecure.

Since you and Mason had sex, both of you weren’t able to see each other again, and even though he replies to your messages your overthinker ass couldn’t help but think he had what he wanted and you were stupid for catching feelings, even if it was the tiniest of them.

So December 25th, you and Sid went out again, so you could dance and forget your feelings a little bit. You used to love Christmas, but the tradition was a bit different where you came from.

The whole family reunites on December 24th, to wait for midnight and eat dinner together. The Brazilian celebration also has a lot of music, alcohol and some families stay awake until 3am.

Christmas is a bit different here, and there’s no family for you to reunite with in England, so your morning was quiet and lonely, and thankfully Sid accepted to go out after spending the day with her family.

But this time, Nick was also coming.

Not that one of you invited him. He just… invited himself. And you weren’t really happy with it. Since he caught you and Sid talking about how Mason was kinda distant, he thought that would be a good idea to try to shoot his shot.

Apparently, Nick didn’t understand that you’re not into him.

After a few drinks, he started to annoy you, staring at your body in a disrespectful way and trying to get your attention at all cost whilst you kept putting some distance between you both.

You were about to ask Sid if both of you could leave when your phone buzzed with a text, and you instantly smiled, forgetting Nick.

You went out to forget your feelings but your feelings were texting you. And now you’ll be waiting for him to come to you. Fuck.

When you blocked your phone screen, you weren’t able to hide your smile. Mason said you belong to him, and he’s right. You know you do.

It seems pretty intense to feel that way after seeing him only a couple of times, but you can’t even deny it anymore. You want him, and him only.

In a few minutes, Mason was there. You, Sid and Nick were next to the bar, trying to avoid the dance floor, and he easily found you.

With a gentle smile, he shook hands with Nick and kissed Sid’s cheek before hugging you, tucking his face in your neck and brushing his nose against your skin.

Your hand went straight to his hair and Mason relaxed his tense shoulders, melting against your body. “Hi Mase”

“I’ve missed you” he whispered, tightening his grip on you.

“I’ve missed you too” you smiled at him when he pulled back. Nick cleaned his throat, trying to get your attention.

“You want a drink, Y/N?” your coworker asked you, and Mason rolled his eyes before himself behind you.

“I’m fine Nick, but thank you” you smiled. Mason frowned, sitting on the bars bench and pulling you closer so he could rest his chin on your shoulder.

“I insist, your glass is empty for a while now” he kept talking and you tried not to laugh at Mason’s snort.

“Don’t worry, Nick” you tried to be polite. He stared at you and Mason with a flustered expression, and Mase tightened his grip on your waist.

You felt bad for liking the way his huge body was tense behind you, bringing you even closer.

A part of you wanted him to be jealous of Nick. Not really healthy of you, you know, but after months feeling like he hadn’t felt the same way about your night together, it was nice to feel wanted. To feel like he’s on the same page as you, even though you didn’t talk about it yet.

You don’t know what’s wrong with you, but you’ll blame your period.

“No one has ever stared at me that long” Mason murmured in your ear, which made you giggle.

“He can be inconvenient sometimes… it wasn’t at first, but now his comments always make me uncomfortable, especially when he talks about you” you kept murmuring, enjoying the way he was pressing his lips on your ear.

“Really? And what does he says about me?”

“That you’re selfish. And violent, rude and ignorant”

“Wow” Mason laughed without emotion. “He has a lot to say about someone he doesn’t know. Do you agree with him?” he tickled your waist, just to show you he was messing around, and you shook your head. “I can be violent sometimes, tho. I think you should know that” he pressed a gentle kiss on your jaw.

“Violent like you lost a game and needed to break your entire house?” you cocked an eyebrow at him, asking for another drink.

Mason watched you take a sip before he kept talking. “Violent like I lost a game and I need support”

“I can be supportive” your already drunk ass told him.

“I don’t know if you got me, baby” Mason chuckled.

“Oh, I did” you smiled at him, turning your face to look in his eyes, the pair of you momentarily lost in your own world.

Nick got closer to the counter, ordering another drink before turning to you and Mason.

“So you’re both dating?” he asked.

“We’re not” you smiled falsify, and Mason scratched your waist.

“Yet” Mount smiled, tilting his head to the side when you stared at him.

“So… what’s happening between you two?” Sid asked shameless, with a playfully smile.

“We are… friends?” you said, not knowing what Mason wanted you to answer. He didn’t like it, by the way he squeezed your waist.

“Friends?” Nick said with an ironic tone. “Wow, I got scare for a bit”

Mason tightened his grip on you, trying to pull you even closer. “Well, she’s marrying me one day, but she doesn’t know that yet”

“Mason!” you whispered, almost choking with your own saliva.

“What?” he looked at you innocently, kissing your jaw before whispering against your cheek. “You’ll be my wife. I swear”

“Fine. I want ‘a friend’ too” Sid rolled her eyes, drinking her Hanky Panky in one go.

“So, Nick” Mason called, and you started a conversation with Sid, letting him deal with this for you. “I’ve heard of you”

“Really? What Y/N told you about me?” he tried to smile, pretending Mason and his muscles wasn’t scary at all.

“That you think I’m rude” Mason giggled. “But you’re right. I am rude. And ignorant”

“No, he’s not” you rolled your eyes, incapable of letting him talk about himself like this.

“I can be tho, if he keeps looking at you like that. Where’s your manners, Nick?” Mason confronted him. Both Nick and yours cheeks blushed, but for different reasons.

“Sorry. I had no clue you fancied her and that he was almost dating-”

“I do, but you shouldn’t be sorry because she has a man. You should be sorry for making women uncomfortable” your pretty boy lectured him, and somehow this made Mason looks even hotter to you. “But yeah, don’t look at her like that ever again”

“I’m sorry, Y/N” Nick seemed embarrassed with Mason’s words and you nodded at him. “I think I should leave”

“I totally agree” Mount smiled innocently, his thumb brushing the exposed skin of your waist.

“Mason!” you whispered again, afraid of what Nick could say about him on the internet.

He only smiled and shrugged at you, kissing your cheek whilst Nick left without any more words.

After this, you had an incredible time with Sid and Mason, but none of you had energy to keep going anymore, and since Mason had a game the next day you decided that you had enough of fun.

Despite it being Boxing Day, he came in his own car so he hadn’t any drink and he asked to take the pair of you home, so you accepted, preferring to go with him than to take an Uber.

It was a quick ride and Mason dropped Sid at her home before heading to yours.

“You didn’t have to do that, but thank you” you smiled.

He squeezed your thigh and smiled at you. “My mom taught me to always help silly girls”

“You’re the best friend a girl could have” you pouted at him, Mason gave you a look. You know he didn’t like to be called friend again. But he is your friend.

You mean, he hasn't asked you to be anything else.

You gave his cheek a kiss, ready to leave the car, but Mason grabbed your arm. He pecked your lips, smiling when you blushed.

“A goodnight kiss, you know” he grinned, his eyes shining in the most beautiful way.

“Right” you opened the door, pecking his lips again before jumping out of the car and looking back at him. “A good luck kiss, then”

Mason smirked and you wished you had the courage to get back in the car and kiss him probably. You closed the car’s door and ran to your front door, chuckling when you realised he waited for you to get inside.

You know you’re slowly falling for him, but there’s no way you can stop yourself now. To be honest, you don’t want to stop it.

When you’re talking with him, you can’t even remember you’ve been hurt once. He always goes out of his way, searching things about your nationality and what you say you like. He’s always trying to make you happy and aware that he cares about you.

You just wished you could see him more often, but at the same time you don’t want to be the one asking for it… everything is just… so confusing. Sometimes the pair of you act like a couple already, even though you haven’t talked about it. He treats you so gently and right now you feel like telling him all of this.

But you can’t. Because he’s Mason Mount.

The fear of rejection is too overwhelming, even bigger since he has been more distant those last months.

From his side, Mason felt awful for not giving you enough attention recently, but just like a child he wanted to prove something: that you would miss him. That you want him. That was really more than just sex.

And now that he knows you’ve in fact missed him, Mason also knows that you feel something for him, like he feels for you. And he’s about to fight for it.

—

Mason got home at midnight and quickly changed into comfortable clothes. He was supposed to be sleeping, but yet he couldn’t resist staying awake and thinking about you.

He missed you already, to be honest. And he wanted to make some things clear to you. Mason knows it’s always difficult for him to have a relationship, but after months talking with you, he’s sure he wants at least to try.

He’s been afraid he’d scare you by trying to ask you out. Afraid to push you away with his fame and money.

Mount is a bit dumb and insecure. Please, don’t blame him.

But something about tonight… he knows you don’t want Nick, but the mere thought of you with another guy almost killed him.

Your eyes when he told you will be his wife one day gave him enough courage to talk with you about it, but he couldn’t talk in front of Sid — even though you’re going to tell her everything later.

Tossing in his bed without being able to sleep, Mason decided to text you.

At first, you thought he was angry at you and the possibility made your stomach burn. But actually, what Mason had to say was a bit scarier.

You know the pair of you are something. You can’t deny it anymore. But something what? You don’t know.

He wants to be like, your boyfriend? It looks like. He was waiting for you to give him a green light? Could you accept being his girlfriend with everything that would come with it?

You sighed before accepting his phone call.

“Call me that again” was the first thing he said. “I wanna know how it’s pronounced”

“It’s pronounced amor”

“No, don’t say like a teacher” he said with a grumpy tone, and you smiled at your phone. “Say it to me”

“Why are you still awake, amor?”

“Jesus, you’ll be the death of me” Mason groaned. “Start talking”

“What am I supposed to talk about?”

“You know pretty well”

“You never asked. For me to be yours”

“I didn’t want to scare you. I was waiting for like, signals, I don’t know. But you kept calling me your friend. It pisses me off”

“Sorry” you giggled. It’s weird to talk about your feelings with someone without feeling ashamed or afraid that he’ll use it against you since he’s the one wanting to have this conversation. “I guess I’m just scared”

“Of what?”

“Do you have any idea of who you are?” you sighed.

“Yes, now I’m yours amor. And my parents’ kid. You don’t have to see me as Mason Mount”

“But you are Mason Mount, baby”

“That’s why we haven't had a real date yet? Because I’m Mason Mount?”

You cackled. “Funny question. We never had a real date because you never asked me out”

“Uhm, you’re right” Mason giggled on the other side and you felt like a teenager, shivering with his voice. “I know we don’t see each other very often…”

“We only see each other once a month” you interrupted him, still laughing. “And there’s like two months that not even that”

“I have a proper explanation” he sighed and you know he’s pouting. “I was afraid to let myself fall for you. I got so obsessed with you since day one and knowing you could not feel the same made me insecure. But now we already act like something when we see each other. And it would be nice if we could go out… like, for dinner…”

You felt like you were about to die. Or to melt. To burst. Maybe all three at the same time.

“You’re officially inviting me for a date?” you whispered, feeling scared and excited. “Mason…”

“Alright, tell me everything you want to tell me about this. Just let go, pour your heart out for me”

“I told you, it’s a bit scary to get into something with the Mason Mount” you whimpered. “Our first date will be posted on twitter within minutes”

“Yeah, I’m sorry about this” his voice was lower and you felt your heart ache.

“No Mase, if I’m being honest with myself this doesn’t bother me at all. If it’s the price to be with you then I would pay, but…” you took a deep breath and tried to order your thoughts. “Once it’s over, they won’t let me forget. Your face will be everywhere and I know it will hurt like hell. They’ll send me stuff, tag me or comment on my posts. They’ll tweet saying that they miss us together or that they’re happy I’m no longer around you, cause they hated me. And I’ll never left the restaurant”

Mason waited a few seconds to answer. “What restaurant?” he sounded really confused, which made you laugh.

“It’s just a metaphor”

“Forget your metaphor then, there’s no “once it’s over”. I could make you believe again. In love. And that they last long” his voice was muffled and you let yourself picture his face crumpled against his pillow. “We can take things slow as we were taking until now. But we would kiss, and I would bring you flowers and we could have dinner and you could spend a night at mine and I would never have to hear you call me friend again and…”

“Mase…” you interrupted him, taken aback by the fact he remembered your first conversation.

“I have wanted you since the first time I got my eyes on you, Y/N” Mason blurted out, trying to make you understand.

After a moment of silence letting his words sink, you chuckled. “You can bring me flowers next time”

“And call you my girl?” you could feel his cocky tone waiting to come to the surface.

“Good night Mase. Sleep well” you whispered, feeling giddy inside.

“Y/N” he whined, but you could hear his giggles. “Good night princess”

You know it won’t be easy. No matter how much he wants you, he’s still Mason Mount. But, you thought, he can be yours Mason Mount.

And he wants to be yours. At the end of the day, that’s the only thing that matters.

—

You were actually truly happy.

Despite the fear of being in love with someone, you couldn’t help but feel giddy every time Mason talked to you.

After the talk about your feelings, both of you found a routine between your work and his, so you could talk more. You felt the most special woman seeing him striving to talk to you more.

The pair of you also went on a couple of date nights, most of them at his house since you didn’t want for the internet to discover about you before Mason was one hundredth percent sure about it.

You also went to his birthday party, and he showed you to his entire family. Yes, he introduced you as his girl, but even now, a month after “the talk”, he still hasn’t asked you to be more than his friend, but you’re okay being friends with benefits.

You know that despite being obsessed with you from the first time he saw you, a real relationship needs to be built with time, confidence, talks and experiences together.

You already like him so much that all you want is to build this kind of confidence with him. You know he’s worth the wait, and thankfully you’re a patient girl.

But today, all you can do is cry. For multiple reasons, and obviously, because you don’t know if you’re enough for him. For his world full of money, parties, girls and tabloids.

He only had one public relationship until now and you know he’s probably looking for the perfect girl to introduce the world to. What if you’re not that girl?

What if you don’t dress well enough, what if you’re not cool enough, smart enough or pretty enough to be part of his intimate circle of friends?

The insecurity grew inside you and you spent the whole day trying not to scream in the middle of the office.

Happy that was finally Friday, you bid your goodbyes to Sid and went home in a rush. She knows how sad and moody you get during your period and that’s another reason for you to love her so much — she never judges you. She just let you be.

When you got home, you curled in your sofa without even taking the day clothes off, your bag being thrown beside the door.

You don’t even know if you could get upstairs, and your cramps were getting the best of you.

But no matter how much in pain you were, you instantly smiled when your phone buzzed with Mason’s text.

You smiled at his text feeling all giddy inside, and obliged him, going straight for a hot shower. Despite loving the idea of being taken care of by Mason, you know how busy and tiring his schedule is.

When you finished your shower half an hour later and changed into comfy pyjamas, you decided to watch something curled up on your sofa, but as soon as you stepped into your living room you were surprised by the doorbell.

“Good evening, can I help?” you asked the man in front of your door.

“Evening lady, mr. Mount ordered this to you. He already paid”

You felt all the butterflies living in your tummy fighting with each other.

“Oh, okay. Thank you” you picked up what looked like a basket, smiling at the delivery man before closing the door. You didn’t want to cry in front of a stranger.

Running to your sofa, you opened it to figure out Mason bought you chocolate, painkillers, a lot of Brazilian snacks and guaraná.

There was even a teddy bear inside the basket and your eyes never watered so fast.

You reached for your phone, wanting nothing more than to text him.

You ran to open the door, still trying to process that he drove to your house just because you’re not feeling well. When you opened the door, Mason smiled at you, and he looked like the most soft man on earth wearing a big hoodie and sweat shorts.

“I already showered” you pouted at him, and Mason let out the most beautiful laugh you’ve ever heard.

“Oh what a shame” he kissed your forehead. “C’mon, I want to cuddle” he entered your house, and you loved the way he was feeling at home.

It’s bizarre how he instantly changes your mood, making you giddy and smiley.

You grabbed Tony on the sofa and guided Mason to your bedroom. The pair of you laid in your bed and he made himself comfortable on top of you, tucking his face in your neck and finding his way underneath your shirt.

After a few minutes in silence, he squeezed your waist. “I have something to tell you” he seemed a bit nervous and you were instantly concerned.

“What’s wrong baby? You’re feeling good?” you stroked his scalp, feeling your heart ache with love something when he melted against you.

“I want you to be my girlfriend” Mason blurted out, his fingers nervously playing with the hem of your shirt.

“Mason?!” you gasped, instantly feeling his smile against the crook of your neck.

“I just want you so bad” he murmured, his voice muffled by your skin. “It doesn’t matter where you are, I’m always seeking for you”

For a second, your insecurities appeared on the surface and you thought about everything that could go wrong. He could hurt you. You could hurt him. You could succumb to the media and his fame and fans.

But then Mason pulled his face away so he could look at you, and his melted chocolate eyes were so soft and filled with his own insecurities that you knew… you just knew the pair of you could face everything as long as you were together.

“I want you bad too baby” you stroked his jaw, letting out a content sigh.

“So you’ll be mine?” he pouted, and you felt the urge to kiss his perfect lips.

“I’ve been yours for a while now, Mason Mount.”

“Good” he pulled up to kiss your jaw. “Hopefully this means we can fuck all the time ‘cause I really miss being inside of you and-“

“Mason!” you slapped the back of his head. “Don’t say things like this in the presence of our son”

“Sorry Tony” he mumbled. “It’s not my fault you have a hot mom”

“He has a hot mom and an irresponsible dad, apparently” you chuckled, stroking his jaw. Mason adjusted himself on top of you, kissing your collarbone and sighing in content.

Before you fell asleep, the last thing you thought was that you can easily get used to it.

i might have a part two for this one so please let me know if you would like to see their the development of their relationship xx

#✧･ﾟ: *✧ tsimvkas — works #mason mount fics #mason mount imagine #mason mount fluffy #mason mount #mason mount x reader

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cheolism · 1 year

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couch comfort

✧ cheol x reader

✧ summary: maybe the bad stuff isn't so bad when you have your boyfriend, seungcheol, there to help you with the weight.

✧ wc is approx 6.3k

✧ genre: romance, fluff, humor; being in love. work sucks. little angst? reader talks of seungcheol being their first real crush/infatuation/love? seungcheol pouts a lot.

✧ note: if there is angst in here, it's very little! this fix purely exists for comfort. you make out at one point. there's another cat based off of my childhood cat. there's absolutely no plot, just kisses and cuddles and comfort. a lot of reflection abt your relationship w cheol at the beginning but it's not all like that lol. photo mentioned at the end is one of the photos at the top!!! this is not edited.

The past week, while definitely not the worst week of your life, was definitely up there.

You sighed, leaning forward and letting your forehead rest against the wheel. Taking a deep breath, you held it for a handful of seconds before releasing it; just as your therapist suggested. Then you thought of Seungcheol and his fluffy hair.

Feeling somewhat less stressed, you grabbed your backpack from the passenger seat and made your way inside, trying your best to ignore the bitter winter air that nipped at your thighs and legs. Ignoring the cold did nothing to actually prevent it, however, and you still fumbled with your apartment keys for a good minute before you were able to select the correct key and enter.

You dropped your bag off at the door and kicked off your shoes, and in a voice that sounded remarkably like your mother when she babytalked your niece, you called out for your cat.

Stumbling away from the door and to the living room, you withdrew your phone from your pocket and slid open the new notification from Seungcheol.

Seungcheol: it sounds like you had a rough day. im sorry. i wish i u didn’t. if u still feel up for it, i can be at ur apartment in twenty. but if u want to stay in or b alone tonight, i understand baby

There was a meow from below, and that was all the warning you had before your ancient tortoise shell cat was leaping onto your chest, her weight startling you for a moment. You peered at Wolfie, her lime colored eyes peering back at you. Then she meowed again, and you couldn’t help but laugh at it, as she sounded as if she had been a serious chain smoker for fifty years.

Wolfie ignored you, crawling forward and rubbing her head underneath your chin. She began purring, a deep thing that you could only truly appreciate if you were completely silent. You held your phone up in the air to type, leaving just enough space for Wolfie to curl up on your chest.

You: ya!!!! I actually just got home 🧡💛 Wolfie immediately curled up on me, so I’ll have to ask her about getting up to get ready.

You then snapped a picture of Wolfie on your chest and sent it to him. Letting your phone fall to the ground beside the couch, you began running your hands over Wolfie. Once upon a time, her fur had been soft and silky; it practically shined. But age had caught up to your precious companion, and you constantly fought back the urge to cry over how tough and wiry her fur felt underneath your fingertips.

Sighing, you closed your eyes and let your head sink completely into the pillows. You had been joking to Seungcheol about getting Wolfie’s permission to get up, but even without her added twelve pounds on your chest, you would’ve had a hard time getting up. It was as if you were Atlas, the Titan who carried the world on his back, and the weight of it was keeping you down.

Not to be misunderstood: you didn’t hate dates with Seungcheol, and most definitely didn’t despise time spent with him. As a matter of fact, you looked forward to every Friday, knowing that not only it marked the beginning of the weekend but was also your assigned date night with Seungcheol.

If you were honest with yourself, you looked forward to waking up every morning. It was stupid and cheesy, and if your teenage self could see you they would shake their head and roll their eyes. But whenever you opened your eyes, Wolfie’s weight resting on your chest, you immediately thought of him. He was the first person you texted in the morning, whether it be about a particular dream you had, something you saw in the news, or even the weather. You couldn’t help but want to talk to Seungcheol first thing in the morning, just as you couldn’t help but message him until you went to bed.

If you were frank with yourself, which was asking a lot, you wanted to talk to him all the time. It was so --

When you were a teenager, you had looked at your friends who were proclaiming their love for their partners only within a few months of dating with considerable scorn. After all, what did sixteen and eighteen year olds know about love? You had offered a listening ear to their troubles, empathizing with their adoration for their partner, while also mentally rolling your eyes and keeping yourself occupied with your books and music.

So you didn’t know what to do about Seungcheol. You didn’t know what to do about wanting to send him pictures of all the pretty flowers you saw; videos of Wolfie being cute and cuddly; pictures of sunsets and sunrises, of cute stuffed animals and all other pretty things that reminded you of Choi Seungcheol.

You inhaled, held it; released.

If you were frank with yourself, if you stood back and analyzed everything, all the emotions you felt for Seungcheol and all the things you wanted to do for him and all the things you dreamt of doing with him, it sounded like you maybe felt something more than the fluttering adoration and infatuation you had at the start of your relationship when he asked you out.

But you didn’t want to analyze that too much.

You groaned slightly, stretching out your legs. Wolfie let out a noise of protest before purring, her attempt at getting you to remain laying down.

“I’m sorry, baby,” you whispered, your hand going to rest on her head. You used your thumb to pet the space between her eyes. “I want to stay cuddled up with you forever, too. But I also want to see Cheolie.”

She adjusted herself on your chest, purring on. You did want to stay there in the dark with Wolfie, just as you had done during your early college days. Many evenings were spent like that, the two of you in your own space. More often than not, you felt like the world was on your shoulders -- just like Atlas -- and it was Wolfie’s own needs and wants that dragged you out of bed.

The past week had you debating on canceling with Seungcheol. Nothing major had happened, of course, but instead a bunch of small incidents and interactions that left bad tastes in your mouth had piled up. Just as a bunch of small pebbles pile up to build a mountain, these small things had piled to the point where you just wanted to turn away from the world.

But you couldn’t. You didn’t want to, more importantly. You didn’t want this past week, no matter how bad it might have been, to impede on your time with Seungcheol. You didn’t want to give up your time with him, not when it was -- not when he was -- so precious to you.

You settled an arm around Wolfie and slowly began to rise; she let out a few squeaks of protest. When Wolfie realized you weren’t going to stop, she huffed and wiggled out of your grasp. Tail high in the air, she walked over your legs to get to the arm rest opposite of you. She climbed on top of it and sat rather primly, looking at you with wide eyes.

“Are you my pretty little lady,” you asked, voice sweet. You shifted to reach out and pet her. “My pretty baby.”

Wolfie allowed you to pet her for a handful of seconds before she sharply twisted her head towards the front door. She sat, waiting, until there was a series of sharp knocks. Wolfie began growling deep in her throat, hackles raising.

“Y/n!” A deep voice called out, knocking stopping.

You cursed, springing up from the couch. You grabbed the hem of your sweatshirt and pulled it away from you, swatting at the cat hairs that had decided to take up room and board on your shirt. “Coming!”

Wolfie ran beside you as you made your way to the door, her tail raised straight in the air. She jumped on the little tree you had next to the door, letting out a croaky yowl when you weren’t fast enough to open it.

“Sorry, Wolfie, sorry --” You fumbled with the lock for a moment before successfully unclicking it. You wrenched open the door, a large, nearly comically so, smile already on your face. “Seungcheol!”

He was grinning back at you, eyes twinkling. Seungcheol was dressed in all black, from his heavy winter coat that was a size too big to his pants and boots. The beanie he wore was the only spot of color on him, it being a vibrant orange.

As always, despite his humble outfit, he was handsome and beautiful.

Something shifted inside of you. It was as if you had done the breathing exercise your therapist had suggested, but instead of lifting only a few pebbles off your shoulders it relieved you of half a mountain’s worth of weight.

You stepped back, letting him come into your apartment enough to shut the door behind him. Wolfie hopped off of her cat tree and went to him, winding herself around her legs. You went to follow suit, arms reaching out to him, but he stopped you.

Subconsciously your lips began to pout at his refusal. Seungcheol laughed, his hands going to his zipper. “Let me take off my coat before you hug me. It’s cold outside.”

“I don’t care about it being cold,” you mumbled, but did as he said.

As soon as he had his coat unzipped, Seungcheol reached out for you. He opened his coat just enough so you wouldn’t be touching the cold outer layer, his hands guiding you to rest against him.

He was warm; that was your first thought.

His arms surrounded you, pulling you close enough to where your nose was smashed against his chest. Not that you minded. Your arms slipped around him in turn, sliding underneath his coat and taking hold of the back of his hoodie. One of his hands went to the back of your head, fingertips sinking in your hair, and he guided you to rest your cheek against him.

Your eyes slipped shut of their own will. Humming, you nuzzled into him, breathing him in. Before Seungcheol, you never really gave much thought into what men smelled like; all you knew was they either smelled good or bad. But Seungcheol?

He smelled like -- well, like Choi Seungcheol. You knew he used expensive cologne, that he used fabric softeners and used the same body wash and lotion so the fragrance would be amplified. Your first impression of him had been that he smelled expensive, and even now, three months into your relationship, you couldn’t help but associate him with luxury.

But now?

He smelled like home.

That was your second thought.

“I’m sorry you had a bad day.” His face was pressed into your hair, just as yours was his chest, and you wondered if he was breathing you in, as you were him. The hand that was in your hair began to fumble with the strands before settling, his palm heavy on your head. He began petting you, as if you were a cat or a dog, but instead of feeling indignant you felt extremely at ease.

“It’s fine.”

He hummed, the sound coming deep from within him. You felt his chest vibrate against your face. “It’s not fine. I don’t like it when you’re suffering.”

You grinned, squeezing him. “I’m not suffering, Seungcheol. Just. Had a bad week. Besides,” you pulled away slightly, just enough to peer up at him with your little grin. “Somehow it doesn’t feel all that bad anymore.”

Seungcheol laughed, hands moving to your face. He pinched at your cheeks, not hard enough to hurt, before cupping them in his hands. His dark eyes were soft and sparkling as they looked at you, and you knew that no one suited brown eyes as well as he. They were warm and inviting, gentle and soft; perfect reflections of his soul.

He didn’t speak. He licked his lips and your eyes obediently went to his mouth. Seungcheol chuckled again, his hands tilting your face up. Expectant, your eyes slipped shut.

You waited for a second. Then another. Then a few more, and your eyes were opening in confusion. He was still watching you, smiling wide enough that his gums showed.

“Seungcheol!” You whined, brow furrowing.

He giggled, a boyish thing that seemed so at odds with his masculine build and voice. But it was him.

Seungcheol swooped down, his lips finally connecting with yours. You sighed at the contact, melting against him. The two of you exchanged chaste kisses back and forth, neither in a rush. It was as if your entire week had been hurtling towards this, towards you in his arms, his lips on yours, something settling in your heart that seemed a little too much to just be infatuation.

He pressed one final kiss to your mouth before straying, his lips ghosting over your cheek. They traveled about your face, his breath warm as it hit your skin. He pressed quick kisses to the apple of your cheek, the space between your brows, your temple; you hummed, satisfaction and safety seeping into your bones and soul, and he pressed a kiss to each of your eyes.

Seungcheol’s mouth returned to yours, and when he pressed another kiss to your mouth, firm like how someone would kiss a lover long gone, you couldn’t help but beam.

His own lips twisted into a smile in response. Your teeth clacked against his, both of you grinning into each other’s mouths.

“Sorry for teasing you, baby.” He pulled away from you, hands squeezing your cheeks before he released you. You wanted to stick yourself back into his arms, but held back. “You’re just so damn cute.”

You sighed, rolling your eyes in faux annoyance. You couldn’t fight the smile that was still on your face, though. “Whatever.”

“What --” Seungcheol stopped pulling off his coat for a moment to stare at you, eyes narrowing, as if you had done something sacrilegious. “Did you just say whatever to me saying you’re cute?”

He still had that appalled look on his face. You shifted back onto your heels, watching as he slowly continued pulling off his coat. You wondered if he was teasing you. “I mean. Thanks?”

“You are cute,” he declared, voice stern with authority. You couldn’t help the look of disbelief that appeared on your face. Seungcheol sighed, as if your skepticism was disappointing. He got one arm out of his coat. “You are. I don’t know who I have to punch to convince you --”

“Violence isn’t the answer to everything,” You chided. You finally left the entryway, moving to your kitchen. “I’ll get some hot chocolate ready for you, Seungcheol!”

He gave an affirmative noise in return. You pulled out your milk and went about heating it up. As it heated, you pulled out two mugs from the dishwasher, which was so full of dishes that had been shoved in that you had to wiggle the mugs back and forth to get them out.

You felt his presence behind you, and you felt embarrassment slowly creep its way up your neck and settle on your face. Standing, you refused to look him directly in the face. “I uh. Didn’t have the energy to really do dishes that much this week.”

Arms were wrapping around your waist, Seungcheol plastering himself to your back. You put the cocoa powder in the glasses. He slouched against you, his head tilted against yours, watching. He was warm, always warm. One of his arms moved to sling around your waist, the other across your chest.

You removed the milk from the microwave, pouring it evenly in the two mugs. Seungcheol shuffled with you as you shifted, grabbing the mini-marshmallows from the cupboard. Without much thought you distributed them before leaving the package on the counter.

“They’re not even.”

“Hm?”

Seungcheol sighed against your ear, as if whatever he had seen was greatly burdening him. “The marshmallows. There’s not an even amount in both mugs.”

“Oh.” You looked down, eyeing both the mugs. “You can have the one with more of them, then.”

Clicking his tongue, Seungcheol reached around you for the package. “You deserve to have the same amount of marshmallows as I do, baby.”

Feeling slightly as if this wasn’t just about marshmallows, you watched as Seungcheol’s fingers carefully counted out five more marshmallows and put them into the left mug. Before he could settle his hand back on your waist, you grabbed it.

You slid your hand on top of his, observing. His fingers were larger than yours, both in length and width. Seungcheol was pale, remarkably so, and his fingers were no different. Your fingers slid against his hand, feeling the little hairs on his knuckles and the ring on his forefinger. Your other hand joined your first in your navigation of his hand, smoothing over his fingernails -- which he kept trimmed and maintained, more than you -- feeling the sharpness of them in contrast to the soft pads of his fingers.

Seungcheol wiggled his fingers, and you felt a little giggle escape you as you wrapped your hands around three of his fingers, squeezing. He pressed himself further into you, and you felt every inch of him against you.

“Seungcheol --”

He pulled away, pressing a kiss to your ear. You peered over your shoulder at him, tilting your head. Seungcheol looked at you for a moment before smiling that gummy grin of his, his hands going to hold your head and bring it so he could press a kiss to your temple.

“Why are you so fucking cute,” he said, each word separated by a kiss to your forehead.

Seungcheol released you, picking up both mugs. You followed him into the living room, where he immediately went to the couch. Wolfie hopped onto the coffee table in front of it, sniffing both mugs. Seungcheol went to shoo her away but you stopped him, folding yourself into the couch next to him.

“She doesn’t drink it,” you said. You reached to the ground and pulled a blanket off of it, settling the blanket over your legs. “The only people food she likes is salami. The real kind, you know? Or she likes licking bowls after I eat Captain Crunch.”

Seungcheol laughed, and like always whenever you heard the sound, you giggled along with him. He shifted further into the couch, moving his feet to prop them up on the coffee table. He pulled the blanket off of you, shooting a look at you when you protested. Seungcheol grabbed your calves, guiding your legs to drape over his thighs. He then adjusted the blanket over the both of you, tucking both of you in.

“She’s a good girl,” Seungcheol agreed, reaching out. Wolfie took the hint and jumped onto your legs, climbing fervently up to his hand so he could pet her. He chuckled, obliging. “She’s awfully needy.”

He shot you a look, coy. “Just like someone else I know.”

You puffed out your cheeks, shooting him a glare. “You’re just as needy as I am, Mr. Choi Seungcheol!”

He gasped, openly insulted. “What did I say about calling me by my full name?”

You wiggled, reaching out and tugging one of his curls. “Well, when you start accusing someone it makes them do horrible things, Mr. Seungcheol. Like using full names.”

“Oh, does it?” He grinned. With one hand still petting Wolfie, he used the other hand to reach out and ruffle your hair. You let out an indignant squawk, waving your hand around to try and get him to stop. “Does it, then? Call me Choi Seungcheol again and see what happens!”

“Okay,” you laughed. “Choi Seungcheol, Choi Seungcheol, Choi Seungcheol.”

His mouth dropped, affronted. Seungcheol then huffed, moving his arm off of you and turning his face. “Fine. You’re lucky Wolfie is on your legs, otherwise I’d push you off.”

You laughed at his sulking, thoroughly endeared. You shifted forward, reaching up to wrap your arms around his neck. You tried to bring him down to you in order to kiss him, but Seungcheol resisted, straining against you. “Hey! I’m trying to make it better, Seungcheol!”

“Nope!” He said, shaking his head. His curls bounced with every movement, and you couldn’t help but smile in adoration. “No making it better, F/n L/n. You’ve done it.”

“Oooh,” you cooed, “I’ve done it, have I?”

He nodded, pushing his lips out in an exaggerated pout. “Yep. You’ve done it.”

“What have I done?”

“Agitated me.”

You laughed, a loud thing that startled Wolfie from your lap. She jumped off of the couch, her feet hitting the hardwood with a little thump!

“I’ve agitated you!” You echoed in between laughs. You fell back against the couch, head hitting the armrest at an awkward angle, no longer able to support yourself. When you peeked back at Seungcheol, he was raising his thick eyebrows at you, which set you off giggling again.

He moved your legs off of his thighs, moving around them and guiding them to rest on the couch. You watched, your smile so big it was starting to hurt your cheeks, as he descended upon you. He placed his knees on either side of your thighs, setting his weight against them. Seungcheol bent over you, his eyes sparkling with something dangerous, one eyebrow lifted.

“Now you’ve really done it,” he murmured, voice deep. It sent something coursing through you, something that ate away at the mirth and sent heat shooting through your heart and settling deep. Seungcheol leaned over you, one hand bracing against the armrest and the other guiding your head in a more comfortable position.

“I’ve really done it,” you echoed, dumbly.

“I’m sure you can make it up to me,” he said, absentmindedly. His fingers traced over your ear, nail scraping lightly; your eyes fluttered as they continued to glide over your skin, moving to your jaw. You felt two of his fingers prod at your lower lip before continuing, pulling at it slightly before moving to ghost over your chin.

You hummed, tongue reaching out to wet your lips. “I can.”

He lowered himself against you. He braced both hands on either side of your head, and your eyes slid shut as his face neared.

Then your phone began to buzz.

Your eyes flew open, staring into his. He was so close. He let out a huff of breath. The two of you waited for a second, and you knew he was trying to will the noise away just as much as you, but to no avail.

You tapped his thighs, and Seungcheol let out a deep sigh. He began raising himself off of you, and you couldn’t help but give his thighs a squeeze.

Seungcheol went to the other end of the couch as you hung your front half off of it, searching the ground for where your phone had fallen earlier. Once you got it, you wiggled frantically back onto the couch. You moved to press against Seungcheol, your thighs molding into one another, elbows knocking.

Your mood, which had been repaired by Seungcheol, began to dampen as soon as you saw the contact name of the person who had messaged you. Your weariness must have appeared on your face, as Seungcheol was immediately responding. He swung his arm around your shoulders and brought you closer, leaning his head against yours.

“What’s wrong, baby?”

Humming, you softly shook your head so as to not hurt his. “Just texts from my manager.”

You didn’t move to open the messages. It was like you were Atlas again. The weight returned, no matter how many pebbles and rocks Seungcheol had brushed off of your shoulders.

Seungcheol let out a little sigh. He wiggled about, turning onto his side to face you. He leaned forward and tucked his face into your neck, warm breath hitting your skin. Seungcheol laid his other arm over your stomach, hand gently squeezing at your lovehandle.

“You don’t have to answer it,” he murmured. You could feel his lips move against your skin. “You’re not in a manager position, and you’ve clocked out. It can wait.”

When you shook your head in answer, he sighed again. Seungcheol pressed a kiss to your neck, and a part of you couldn’t help but feel foolish at how your heart jumped and the corners of your lips twitched up into a little smile.

Unlocking your phone, you hurriedly tapped on your manager’s messages. Immediately you were met with five separate chat bubbles, all as unwelcome as the one before it. manager: so what was this I heard about you leaving early yesterday?

manager: I know you see other people leaving early, but that’s not something I encourage. It’s not something you should encourage, either.

manager: We rely on you to set an example to the others.

manager: You’re scheduled for a certain time, and you should be fulfilling that time.

manager: If this happens again I’ll have to look into shortening your hours.

Your mouth fell open with an audible noise, a small breath of air leaving you as you read over your manager’s messages. Seungcheol made an inquiring sound and you tilted your phone towards him so he could read the texts.

“What the fuck,” he muttered. “What the fuck. Who the fuck cares? Who the fuck -- so what you left early?”

“It was by ten minutes,” you softly said, sending out a quick affirmative to your manager to let them know you at least read the messages. “I was just. Tired, you know?”

Seungcheol straightened next to you, angling his head to read the texts again. His thick brows were narrowed, plump lips twisted into an irritable frown. “What the fuck. Ten minutes? This is over ten fucking minutes?”

“It’s just --” You broke off, fumbling with your phone for a moment. “It’s not like I do it all the time.”

“No, it’s not!” Seungcheol’s eyes were practically blazing as he looked at you, his grip on you tightening. He was fully irritated, gaze sharp and mouth firm. The urge to smile struck you for a split moment, your heart whispering with glee that he was angry over you; he was angry because of someone mistreating you.

“It’s fucking ridiculous,” Seungcheol announced. His fingers dug into your shirt. “You’re a model employee. You never call in, never leave early or without doing your shit. Who the fuck are they to -- to text you like that?”

“My manager, Cheolie,” you reminded him.

He scoffed, his hand leaving your body to push his curls away from his face. “Your manager -- fuck them, fuck! You’re a good person, a good employee. You’re an amazing person and if you want to leave ten minutes early, then you should! Fuck them!”

You were grinning now, your heart practically singing. It was nothing, you supposed. It wasn’t anything to get excited about, but there was something magnificent in seeing someone get angry over how others were treating you. It was wonderful to see another person so invested in your well-being and happiness, and it made your heart feel light.

It was like he had taken the boulder on your back -- the world on Atlas’s -- and smashed it between his two hands, his anger blazing bright enough to blaze through rock.

Seungcheol’s eyes met yours, and immediately his look softened. He sighed, though his lips were beginning to curve in his sweet smile. He tucked his face back into your neck, pressing another kiss underneath your ear. “Don’t look at me like that when I’m being righteously angry on your behalf.”

You laughed, throwing your head back. “‘Righteously angry?’”

He giggled, burying his face into your skin. He kissed you again there, before Seungcheol was removing his head. Seungcheol peered up at you, and you couldn’t help but admire him. His dark curls, how they brushed against his sweet, wide eyes; his eyelashes, those ridiculously long and dark lashes that made him look ridiculously endearing.

Fuck, how you wanted him.

“You know,” he began, lips in a coy smile. “You haven’t really given me a kiss hello.”

You clicked your tongue against the roof of your mouth, raising your brows. “The audacity -- I have! Do you not remember us at the door?”

He hummed, shaking his head. His curls bounced. “Nope! I distinctly recall that whole ordeal being led by me.”

“Oh, was it?”

“Yep.”

You laughed, turning to face him. You switched your phone to your left hand, and with your right you reached up and cupped his cheek. His skin was soft and smooth, and you couldn’t help but stroke his cheekbone. You then pressed your hand to his jaw. “Well, I better correct that then.”

You pressed your lips against his, three quick kisses in succession.

“Hm,” Seungcheol said. “I don’t know if that’s really enough to make up for it.”

“It’s not?” Then you pressed three more kisses. “How is that, sweetheart?”

Seungcheol shrugged. One of his hands settled on your waist, the other going to tuck your hair behind your ear. He traced his thumb over the shell of your ear before settling his hand right below it, on the hinge of your jaw. “Better, but not really satisfying, you know?”

“Not satisfying?” You asked, voice pitching high with amusement. His brown eyes were soft and twinkling, almost as if his soul was beckoning you closer, closer, to come closer and fall into his. You rose to your knees, letting your phone drop between the two of you. “I’ll just have to remedy that real quick.”

“I can tell you if it’s gonna be a quick one it won’t be real satisfying,” he chimed.

You rolled your eyes, lowering your face. His eyes were already on your lips, his tongue peeking out. “You don’t have to worry about it being satisfying.”

Then you were upon him. Your hands on his face, angling his head up and towards you. You pressed a kiss to his upper lip, chaste and sweet, before tilting your head. Like a wave intent on devouring, you moved your mouth onto his.

For a moment, Seungcheol let you work your mouth against his. Your kisses were wet and warm, and he was an obedient servant to the mastery your mouth had over him. Your hands sunk into his hair, nails scraping, fingers tugging. He was pliant beneath you, and you kissed him with the unhurried ease that all devote lovers practiced.

Then, rather impishly, you took his bottom lip between your teeth. He let out a breathy moan at it, and for a moment you couldn’t help but grin.

Pulling back, you tried to fight the surge of pride you felt as he surged after you. You subconsciously set a hand against his thick neck in an attempt to stop him from following, but Seungcheol paid no mind. Indeed, you couldn’t help the shiver of excitement that ran through you as he continued to push, his eyes dark with intent, nevermind the feeling of your hand pushing against him.

“Why did you stop, baby,” Seungcheol murmured. His voice was dark and deep, matching his eyes, and fuck, if you weren’t ready to lay on the couch and let him have his way.

“Our hot chocolate,” you replied, heart beating so quickly it was as if a hummingbird had somehow made its home within you, “it’s cold.”

“If it’s cold now, it’ll be cold when we’re done.”

You laughed, then. You threw out your arms and wrapped him in them, bringing Seungcheol flush against you. He went easily, and you pressed kiss after kiss to his face, hands messing with his hair.

“If I had known,” you said, still giggling as you pressed a final kiss underneath his chin, “before we started dating how absolute insatiable and ridiculous you are, I wouldn’t have believed it. You really had me fooled, Seungcheol.”

He chuckled, moving his arms around you. Seungcheol pressed you into him, just as you had him. “I swear, everytime you call me ‘Seungcheol’ I lose another year of my life. Next you’ll be telling me that’s my name in your phone.”

You went still against him.

Immediately Seungcheol pulled away from you. He looked at you, scrutinizing. Then, voice severe, “Unlock your phone for me.”

That set you off laughing again. Seungcheol laid you onto the couch before searching the area for your phone. He was presenting it to you in a matter of seconds, holding it out in front of you. “Unlock it.”

“You know the passcode,” you giggled.

“No I don’t --”

You shot him a meaningful look. Then his eyes widened, and he tapped in the date of your first date. He had a satisfied look on his face when your phone unlocked, a little smirk at the corner of his mouth. You watched as he glanced around your phone. You let out a soft sigh, extending your legs and settling them on either side of Seungcheol.

“What.” He blinked, then blinked again. “Seungcheol. You have my full first name? Not even a heart, not a flower or something cute, no -- there’s not even a smiley face!”

You were grinning. He huffed, shoulders rising. His brows furrowed and his lips went into a full pout. “Hey. Baby, this isn’t okay!”

“I didn’t realize it was just a crime,” you said.

He glanced over at you. As soon as Seungcheol saw you were grinning and realized the depth of your insincerity, he was sticking his hand into the pocket of his sweatpants and withdrew his phone.

“Look,” he said, flashing you his phone screen.

He had a picture of you from your first date as your contact photo. You were smiling, brightly and unabashedly. It was almost goofy looking, how happy you looked in that picture.

Your name in his phone was just as sweet, and you wondered if you needed to schedule a dentist appointment first thing Monday morning from the cavities that were surely forming.

My Baby 💖🔥

“Aw,” you said, “that’s so cute.”

His jaw dropped. “Cute -- yes, it is cute! Meanwhile you just have my full fucking government name --” “Cheolie, sweetheart, it isn’t that serious --”

He glared at you, before shoving your phone towards you. “Change it. Right now.”

“Doesn’t that ruin --”

“Don’t make me repeat what I said,” Seungcheol warned. He stood, and your eyes immediately fell to his ass. Not in a perverted way of course, but because it was art and it would be a dishonor to not observe and appreciate art.

“I’ll be back,” he said, “and when I return you better have something so fucking cute it’ll make me cry.”

Rolling your eyes, you went about your business. You already had a cute picture of him -- one taken when he had fallen asleep behind you -- as his profile picture, so you hurriedly began typing out a name for him.

It really wasn’t a big deal to you, and you knew it really wasn’t that big of a deal to Seungcheol either. He’s seen your contact list. Everyone had their first and last names in it, save for your family members. There were no emojis, no cute names.

Truly, you thought, Seungcheol should consider himself privileged.

When he returned, he had Wolfie in his arms. Her eyes were shut, and she was completely dwarfed by his bulk and the added fluff that his oversized hoodie gave him. She was perfectly content, however, and when he sat down next to you all Wolfie did was shift in his arms to further mold into his chest.

“So?”

You smiled, holding your phone against your chest. “I don’t know, sharing the contact name of your beloved is sort of a private thing.”

He shot you a glare.

Giggling, you held out your phone for him.

🌸💘 My Seungcheol 💘🌸

“Is it appropriately cute?”

He hummed, tilting his head. “What are the flowers?”

“Your lips,” you said matter-of-factly. “Your lips remind me of pink blossoms.”

Shocked, Seungcheol flickered his eyes up to yours. His eyes, always rife with emotion, were round from the revelation. His lips -- his blossom pink lips -- parted, and like a magnet your eyes were on them.

“Those are some dangerous words, baby.”

You shrugged, settling back against the couch. “Too bad you have Wolfie on you.”

He looked down at the cat, eyes narrowed. You could practically hear him cussing her out. Then he sighed, settling one of his hands on her back. Wolfie arched into it, and in the silence you could hear her beginning to purr.

Seungcheol moved to rest against you, the two of you practically molding into one. You leaned against him, head on his shoulder, hand moving to join his in petting Wolfie. For a moment the two of you were quiet, enjoying one another, safe in the knowledge of the infatuation, adoration, yearning, the -- the love that the two of you shared, safe in the knowledge that it existed and thrived. Knowing that no matter the weight on the back, the other would be there to help brush off pebbles and destroy the rubble.

You moved your head, pressing a kiss against his shoulder. He hummed, and as you pulled back he swept down to press a sweet kiss to your lips.

“You know,” he said, after the two of you settled back in your spots. “I saw the prettiest flower today while walking through the store. I took a picture of it because it reminded me of you.”

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allthegothihopgirls · 2 months

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yeah alfred plays up his whole sensible butler act, and is only ever really seen revealing his more (violently) protective side to save the people he loves, or stop a god awful plan from going ahead, but i think it would be funny for him to let loose in trivial scenarios more often.

during black friday sales he's a shopping assassin, running around scrummaging for the usually expensive crockery he can't typically justify investing in.

when dick was younger and had gymnastics meets, if the gotham city traffic was going to make them even a minute late, alfred would always speed up tenfold and somehow find them another way around. not once was dick ever late for a meet.

when jason shows special interest in a book series, alfred always seems to gift him the latest issue before it actually releases. sometimes he'd question how he managed to get his hands on it, and alfred would just shrug his shoulders, saying "it's good for you kids to be reading" or something along those lines.

one of the kids is about to fall from a ledge in the house (dick) and somehow alfred always manages to appear out of nowhere to stop/catch them.

the family go out bowling, and out of nowhere alfred manages a perfect 300 score with ease. it's random skills like that, that shock his family, because as much as they know he's very capable and more sneaky behind the butler act, it's just the weirdest things he comes out with. you'd expect him to know how to throw knives, and swiftly stitch wounds, not to be a perfect bowler???

damian's brought a new animal into wayne manor, and is hiding it from the others. alfred pulls him aside (because of course he knows), and will tell him the exact conditions that species needs to be kept in, his likelihood of being bitten by it, and what to do if it does. for a while he kept bringing in the most random animals he could find just to test alfred's knowledge.

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bigassmoonchild · 8 months

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Gentle

Pairing: Task Force 141 (not specified) x Reader

Wordcount: 891

Summary: You were always gentle, no matter the situation. Even if he didn't notice until now.

Content Tags: Fluff, Reminiscence, Interactions with Children, Canon Typical Violence, Mentions of Human Trafficking, Heavy Angst, Hurt/No Comfort, Mentions of Death, No Use of Y/N

A/N: Just a drabble ;). Maple Syrup will be updated most Fridays/Saturdays. I don't have the time during the regular week to be able to take the hours needed. You are more than welcome to request something! I'm encouraging it! As always, content under the cut and requests are open <3.

He wished he could've known you. More than the violence you used to get through missions, more than how big you made yourself seem when out at a bar after a mission with the 141. And when he really thought of it, he knew what you truly were.

Gentle. Not a word often used to describe military personnel. But you? That was one of two words anyone could've used.

It was a silent mission. Just something to pick up intel quietly and leave, nothing else. You were outside a coffee shop and he watched a little boy run up to you, stopping directly in front of where you sat. You gave him such a big smile, leaning down and listening to what he said into your ear.

You leaned further to grab his jacket and get the zipper to zip, rubbing his shoulders for a second before sending him back off. If the boy knew exactly what you had under your own jacket, he would've ran off screaming.

But he didn't, because you knew what you were doing when it came to kids. They understood when you were direct, and you always were. It was never trying to reach the point in a way you would assume that they'd understand, but in a way that any normal person would understand.

You didn't underestimate their knowledge. All people learned in different times so you assumed that the kid would understand what you said. It wasn't a bedazzled explanation with butterflies and puppydogs, it was straight to the point.

During another mission, in the middle of securing a safehouse you struck a man, knife sliding through his neck like butter and you were able to turn, grasp on the knife tightening before you saw the little girl. She was curled up into a ball, hands above her head as if to protect herself.

Even with bloody hands, you had pulled her into you and brought her to the safe point. Even covered in blood and grime she let you sit her on your lap in order to check her over for marks and possible wounds, happily speaking to you and allowing you to mess with small scrapes she had on her elbows. You had to hand her over once you got off the plane, allowing protective services to take her from you.

You'd mentioned a few weeks ago that you kept in touch with her, and the little girl was now going into year ten. You'd had such a nice, gentle smile on your face as you recalled the girls boyfriend, how he would buy her flowers randomly. He didn't mind how you'd mentioned you would do some unspeakable things to him if he hurt her.

Even when you shot a man point blank, you took your time to ensure the body was out of the way, to not get trampled over. You respected the dead, no matter if the dead had been shooting at yourself and the rest of the 141.

And as gentle as you were, you were equally violent and angry. The only time any of them had seen you like that was during a mission busting a child-trafficking ring. There was no respect, there were no mercy kills. You shot where they'd take ages to bleed out from and made sure they hurt while doing it.

When you'd finally finished off the last man, releasing the kids from where they'd been chained up, you'd given them little smiles and spoke oh so nicely. Follow this big, scary man now. He won't let anyone hurt you, you'd told the first group.

He wasn't sure what happened when you'd disappeared for some time. You didn't talk about it and he learned to not mention it. All he knew is that when you came back outside just a little bloodier, your eyes didn't have you in them.

It was when the kids had smiled and waved at you that you came out of it. Your smile, this time, hadn't gone to your eyes like it usually did. You waved back, letting them hold your hands if they wanted to and making sure they had what they needed while waiting for a medevac.

Water, food, just a hug. You did whatever they needed and didn't let anything stop you. He'd tried, sure, but you wouldn't rest until you knew the kids were completely safe.

So as he sat there, coughing up blood, he could only think of how gentle you would be. How you would try and tell him that he'd be okay, that there was nothing to worry about. That the blood was natural and that he was going to be fine, you're going to be fine, god damnit. Open your eyes!

And maybe he had closed his eyes, but either way his vision had tunneled too much for him to see. He could feel your hands, gently trying to stop the blood as you felt the tears pouring down your cheeks. There wasn't much you could do, you knew. You didn't want to give up, your mind racing even as your hands found his and you held them, grip gentle.

Because that's what you were. No matter what, you'd be gentle to those who needed it. And maybe you would be just as gentle with the next person who came into your life.

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yeostars · 2 months

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𓆩♡𓆪 ateez kissing your hand out of their affection for you <3

{hyung liner ver.!}

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

ᯓ★ hongjoong

• hongjoong LOVES kissing the back of your hand a lot. It's something that is so natural for him whenever he is endeared by you, and it leaves you to be a blushing mess !

• One Friday night, you decide to visit your boyfriend at his studio to bring him some homemade dinner; his favourite dish. Since it's the weekend later anyways, and you were missing him a lot so he invited you to come over to his studio because it was going to take him quite a few hours to finish his work.

• you told him that you had a surprise for him & the moment you entered his studio, he didn't even properly glance at you but snatched the bags from you & started searching whatever his "surprise" was. A delicious aroma spread in the studio & hongjoong was THRILLED to see his favourite dish in a tupperware, cooked so lovingly by you.

• You said jokingly, "wow, I guess food is more important to you than I am, joong.... you didn't even glance at me & started digging in the food..." You were now pouting, crossing your arms. Hongjoong came to your side, still chewing happily on his food like a literal squirrel & pulled you in his arms. After he pulled back, he gently took your left hand and placed a kiss at the back of your palm. "Thank you so much for making such amazing dinner for me & coming to visit me. You never fail to make me feel so loved, y/n, and I'll have to work harder to make you feel loved, too." The both of you smiled shyly at each other & enjoyed the night at his studio.

ᯓ★ seonghwa

• you and seonghwa were out for a night walk, one fine weekend. you just came out of an amazing Thai restaurant and the both of you throughougly enjoyed the food there. You decided to take a walk on the way home instead of calling a cab because you wanted to let the food digest & wanted to chat with each other under the faint moonlight and chill breeze.

• you were both holding hands, walking down the curb and chatting happily about your week, your colleagues at work and how delicious the food at that restaurant was. it was always fun, chatting with your boyfriend. you both never ran out of things to talk about & even gossiped like a pair of best friends.

• suddenly, seonghwa cracked a pretty bad joke at something you said & you pulled your hand out of his grasp & playfully slapped his arm. he giggled, and smoothly took hold of your hand again, now quickly kissing the back of your palm. you were a uncontrollable blushing mess, now. "What was that for?" You asked, still blushing. "Nothing. It's just so good to be with you here, right now. I'm so happy."

• "Me too, hwa. Spending time with you like this, is my most favourite thing ever. I love you." you said, intertwining your fingers with his again. "I love you too, babe." he responded. Your blissful night with seonghwa continued, yet another memory for you to cherish.

ᯓ★ yunho

• a new blockbuster romance movie had just released and you decided to watch it together with your boyfriend, yunho at the weekend at his place. as yunho was setting up the movie on his TV, you went to his kitchen to quickly prepare some snacks for the both of you to munch on while watching the movie.

• just as you were in the middle of watching the movie, you and yunho were basically cuddling on the couch at this point, with a cozy blanket wrapped up around the both of you. you leaned your head against his shoulder all this time.

• suddenly, a scene appeared in the movie wherein the male lead affectionately took hold of the female lead and kissed the back of her palm. you stared dreamily at the TV screen during that time, thinking how sweet that scene was. Yunho immediately glanced at you and noticed the big smile that had formed on your lips, during that scene.

• and ofcourse, what was next? he searched for your hand under the blankets and bought it towards his lips, kissing them not once, but twice ! that took you off guard and you laughed, saying "no way you just did that because of that scene" and yunho replied with "i couldn't help but notice you wanted someone to kiss your hand like that, too. And ofcourse, no one else can do that except for me." He smirked. You caressed his cheek, kissing him on the lips now and well ..... the movie was long forgotten now.

ᯓ★ yeosang

• you decided to visit a nearby beach when the both of you had a day off work. It had been a long time since you spent some peaceful time outdoors with your boyfriend, yeosang and nothing was better than listening to the soulful ocean waves and watching the beautiful sunset together.

• just as the sun was about to set, you and yeosang were taking rounds around the beach side-by-side that never seemed to end, with your feet in the sand. Yeosang wrapped his arm around your shoulder, pulling you closer. You were a little taken aback by this, because he rarely ever showed physical affection for you. But you enjoyed it thoroughly, ofcourse.

• "The sunset is beautiful, isn't it, love? It's just as beautiful as you." You said, leaning your head against yeosang's shoulder, suddenly stopping in your tracks to witness the beautiful shades of orange and pink hues unfolding in the sky. Yeosang suddenly took hold of your hand, and it boy wasn't it the most beautiful moment ever: both of your faces were covered in the golden rays of the setting sun, and he placed a chaste yet tender kiss at the back of your palm.

• You blushed furiously, your smile towards your boyfriend unfading. Your silent yet overflowing love towards each other remained, just like the endless cycle of tides & the eternal dance of the setting sun.

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sheloveshp · 11 months

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„All talk“- ron w.

warnings: little smut// virgin!ron// fluff at the end

confronting shy little ron „all talk“ weasly after he has been crushing and flirting on you for a while

masterlist

“Where did your confidence go Ron?” You whispered into his ear. You’ve had enough of him and his remarks about your body (or rather how, saying them is the most he does to you.)Today all of this shall end.

You were up for yet another Study Session in his dorm. Ron Weasley has gotten much more suggestive even in front of the others students. Gladly for the both of you it didn’t bother you. What bothered you was that he wasn’t shy to talk about how good your tits looked while he was playing quidditch and that, that was the reason for Gryffindor’s loss, while being seated next to all the other gryffindors . Yet whenever you came suggestively close to him, his whole body shut down and he suddenly remembered to “feed his old ass hamster” or rat or whatever it was and left.

“All those remarks when i visited you at training about how good my ass looked in those black shorts” Your fingers played around sliding them up and down his chest while you talk.

„All that undressing me with your eyes in class and at parties and now you won’t even look into my eyes ronnie?“ you stopped. Now looking directly into his eyes. His cheeks being as red as his hair and heart beating out of his chest.

Yeah sure he was in fact, in love with you and throwing these perverted things at your head was much better for him than being vulnerable to you and telling you how he actually feels. He was also scared of dating you. You were the (y/n) (l/n) after all. Gryffindors baddest bitch. Yes, even badder than Hermione. He was scared of what others might say when they find out that you’re dating him out of all people. He was scared of rejection and how he would carry on living his life when you broke his heart by rejecting him. So if being close to you means only being your friend and talking in a not so shy manner to SOMEHOW release his inner feelings for you. He will.

Ron tried his best to keep calm and stay cool. He didn’t want to seem like a weakling infront of you of all people, but then again. It’s you he is talking to and you who has him pushed onto the wall of his dorm room.

Fucking you would be a great thing too tho <3.

Trying to fabricate even one

string of words he completely failed and just gulped really loudly.

„I want you and I know you want me but I‘m getting tired ron.“

lies.

You loved the thrill you get when you think about him. thinking about what he would do to you once he would finally let go of whatever is holding him back and fuck you.

At first you hated to admit it but you thought about him every day. The way his hair shines when the sun hits it. The way he is always eating. The way he will be the last one on the Hogwarts Express to make sure everyone got in safely.

The way he would bend you over his desk at this very desk you’re standing next to in his room and fuck you straight is also a nice thought. <3

„Tired of you not doing shit about it.”

“talk. talk. talk.” slightly hit his chest with your pointed finger.

oh how you would’ve loved to leave a kiss on every part of his body and rip his clothes of his body right now but sadly your pride didn’t let you. The pride that is hanging onto a string threatening to rip every time you look up into his eyes and see him looking at you so shy.

„Tell me you want me Ronnie“ you whisper into his ears cupping his cheek with your left hand while the other remained rubbing circles on his chest. „I want you“ he finally breathed out. He knew that he wanted you. so. so bad. It’s the way he twitched whenever he saw you talking to anyone that he doesn’t trust. It’s the way all of his synapses came to a stop last Friday when, you opened your dorm room to study with him, only for him to find you in your short biker shorts and a white shirt with no bra on. Obviously, he had to retake the exam.

„You’re all talk.“ you looked at him now

His patience finally ripped and he kissed you so passionately as if he was waiting a lifetime for it.

When the kiss came to a halt he didn’t want to yet and followed your lips with his. You both looked at eachother. breathing HEAVILY. “That was-“ you cut him off before you jump into his strong arms and kiss him again and again.

Trying to locate his bed he bumped into serveal things he finally found it and threw you onto it.

“Now we’re talking.” You whisper against his lips trying to cool the situation a bit. It will be his first time after all.

Ron kept kissing and kissing and kissing you just to make sure it wasn’t one of his wet dreams again.

Stoping for a moment you grab your wand of the bedside stand and put a spell on this room to muffle the room and lock it.

“Muffelatto e chiudare.” Ron noticed these spells and immediately knew now that you were here on business. Now back to making out, your hips moved a lot on his crotch area forcing him to buckle his hips to get some sort of action going on down there.

You would’ve loved to ride him straight but you also wanted this to last longer so you decided to take the lead. With longer you mean several weeks of teasing him like he did to you and only giving him little after little taste of you.

Turning around to straddle him now you left a few hot kisses on his jaw and neck before you went lower. way lower.

Unbuckling his belt Ron looked down on you seeing you with his sex in your hands he internally freaked out.

“Relax, Baby.” You coo, noticing his nervousness. You start pumping slowly after you noticed him calm down a little because what will come after this might send him into cardiac arrest. Dropping the word “baby” on him hit him like a truck, even more than you pumping your hand up and down his already hardened cock.

It was his first time and yet again…he was shy but you wanted to hear him moan your name and whimper so bad.

“You can make noises, baby. No one will hear you but me.” And with that he let loose. Whimpering, Moans, all of it rushed out his mouth immediate like he has been holding it back for years.

“Y/n” he said as he covered his eyes with his hands to keep himself from coming to fast. Otherwise he would make a complete fool of himself. You though… You knew exactly what would get him rilled up.

Finally, you take him inside your mouth. Ron removes his hand at the speed of light to see you and shrieked. That was it. You had him and this moment shall forever be engraved in his mind, for as long as he lives.

His cum tasted like cola cherry for some reason. You didn’t like cola whatsoever but this was nice so you took his whole load into your throat and swallowed.

Ron immediately fell back after he has been keeping himself up to watch this all unfold. He was shook to his core.

“You can eat that????” Ron being Ron, that was the first thing he asked you after having his blowie v-card being taken.

“Yes, Ron.” You wait in anticipation for anything else for him to say. As you lay down next to him.

“You are so amazing y/n.” He finally breathes out while searching for what to say in your eyes. “You weren’t so bad yourself, Darling.” There it goes again. Making him all dizzy with you loving words. Although it wasn’t much he was already gone.

“Wait! What about you? What should I do for you?” Honestly he felt kind of bad that you didn’t get what you wanted. Also he didn’t get to feel that bad cuz he was still on his orgasm high.

“Next time, Ronnie.” You say kissing his cheek and the other side. Finally, you had what was yours and what you desired the most. You are never going to let him go.

It has been a tough week at Hogwarts so both of you became really tired, really fast and dozed off.

For once in his life Ron was the first to wake up. Realizing that this scene isn’t a dream and you were still on him, sleeping like an angel, Ron chuckled to himself.

If he wasn’t still in another universe mentally trying to process what happened last night, he would be worried. Worried about wether this all is a friends with benefits kind of thing or something serious?? But the way you were holding him and laying on him chest on chest, heart on heart. He knew that this might be serious and he couldn’t wait for the day where this would become his day to day life. Waking up to the love of his life.

#hp x reader #ron weasley x reader #harry potter x reader #harry potter #harry potter universe #Ron #ron x reader #weasly x reader #hp headcanon #weasley family #ron weasly imagine #ron wealsey x y/n

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sinofwriting · 7 months

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To Be With You - Lando Norris (& Callum Ilott)

Words: 9,722 Summary: Lando’s halfway to being in love with her, following her around like a puppy, while she thinks it’s all friendly affection. Too bad his feelings don’t even flatter after learning about her husband. (Reader is referred to as Pips) Note(s)/Warning(s): There is no cheating in this fic. Reader is married to Callum Ilott (Indycar Driver). Lando comes off a bit much in this because he doesn’t know how to handle his feelings and reader is oblivious to said feelings.

Taglist | Masterlist | Patreon

Jeddah 2023

Lando couldn’t help the smile that spread across his face as he saw who was interviewing him next. “Well, hello.” “Lando, good to see you. How are you feeling about this weekend?” “I’m feeling good. The car is good and last year I had a fairly good race, but we’ll see what happens after free practice.” He tells her, somewhat lying about the car, but that didn’t matter. With her here, he’d be driving it like it was the rocketship that Red Bull had for a car. He needed to impress her. “And how are you settling into the mentor role with Oscar as your teammate?” “Uh, it’s a bit weird y’know?” He tells her, licking his lips and stepping a little closer. Giving the camera more of a close up as he inches closer to her. “I’ve been used to being the mentee and the youngest on the grid, so it’s a bit weird to have the youngest guy as my teammate now.” “Well, I’m sure you’re doing great.” She tells him, eyes flickering down to her notebook with questions, feeling slightly awkward that she doesn’t have anything more for him, but he was never supposed to be part of her interviews this weekend. Thankfully for her and not so much for Lando, his press officer pulls him away to another spot.

The large smile he had been wearing drops into a frown as soon as he’s forced to turn away from her, but before any of the cameras can catch the change he forces a smile on his face before stepping in front of another camera.

It was only Friday after all, he had the whole weekend to see her and hopefully get her number or better yet a date.

Lando doesn’t see her until after quali having forgotten that when it was a weekend when F2 and F3 were racing she spent most of her time with them, either hanging out or to work. She barely did any interviews with F1 drivers during these weekends, it made his heart swell realizing that he had made it on her list this weekend.

She’s with Novalak, Crawford, and Bearman, standing just out of Prema’s HQ and despite the weird glances he gets from the guys, he slots himselfs into their group and next to her.

“I swear, Ollie.” She curses, setting her hands on her hips. “You give yourself more bruises than a phlebotomist. And you,” she turns her attention to Jak, taking his chin in her hands gently and looking at the nasty scrap he’s got there. “Do you go to medical for this?” He starts to nod, but Ollie quickly rats him out, making Clem laugh while Lando watches the whole thing with wide eyes, having never seen her like this. It was somewhat endearing how much she cared for the young drivers. “Jak Crawford!” “It’s fine, honestly. It doesn’t even hurt.” She gives him an unimpressed look. “Medical. This is the first weekend of this calendar when one of your parents isn't here, I’d think we’d want that to happen again, right?” He quickly nods, eyes darting towards Ollie and she releases him. “Medical and Ollie, please go with him.” “On it, Pips.” Ollie grins, leaning down to press a kiss to her cheek before dragging Jak with him even as the junior driver whines about not getting to hug her.

“You sure you want kids?” Clem asks with a laugh as the three watch the two walk around the corner. Lando can’t help but turn his attention to her, wanting to know her answer even if he was maybe joking. “My kids will be angels, I’ll have raised them. Jak and Ollie,” she shakes her head, though there’s a fond smile on her lips clearly not minding the boys. “They're thrilled about becoming older brothers. We had to bleep it on the pod when we had Jak on.” The British driver’s eyes widen as his eyes flicker down to her abdomen, the other two thankfully not noticing his reaction. “Not yet. Still got a good few years until that happens.” She laughs. Lando breathes a sigh of relief, not noticing how it catches Clem’s attention.

His brows quickly furrow for a second as he realizes what she said, a few years. That was soon, like really soon. He wanted to be a hands-on dad, be there for everything, and he still wanted to race in the next few years. Compromise was a thing in a relationship though, he was sure that they could work out some sort of timeline for kids that would fit better than a few years.

“So, Crawford and Bearman, that happens a lot?” He asks her. “Them getting hurt.” She frowns a bit at the use of the last names, but he doesn’t notice. Too caught up in her attention being on him, all of it being on him. “Yeah, a bit. But teenage boy antics are the reason or at least that’s what I've been told.” “Weirdly it only seems to happen when you’re around.” Clem says, watching Lando closely as he leans a bit into her space. It makes his nose wrinkle. “Oh, it happens when I’m not around as well. I end up getting calls or texts about it.” Clem shakes his head, “such momma’s boys.” “I can see why. You’d make a good mum.” Lando says, enjoying the way her eyes widen a bit and she gets a little flustered. “Oh, thank you.” “Of course.”

Miami 2023

After that he doesn’t see her until Miami and despite it not being an F2 weekend she’s got Novalak, Armstrong, and the other guy from Screaming Meals acting as her crew for the weekend as she runs around doing interviews with drivers, engineers, and the like. His jaw twitches as he watches her interview Logan Sargeant of all people for nearly an hour. His mood worsens when he asks his press officer for his schedule and she’s not on it.

Somehow though on Saturday before he leaves for his hotel, he manages to catch her alone. Her shadows for the weekend are all gone.

“How are you this weekend?” “I’m good. Busy, but thankfully James, Clem, and Marcus have been helping me out.” She tells him, pocketing her phone. “I saw your quali result.” He grimaces at the knowledge she saw that. “I’m sure you’ll do better tomorrow, make up some places.” “I’ll do my best.” He tells her, feeling a little warm at her assurance. “Will you be coming to Monaco? I mean, it’s nearly the race of the year.” “You mean afterparties of the year?” Lando chuckles, but nods. “True. But will you?” She shakes her head, “Nope, I’ll be at the Indy 500 just like last year.” “They happen the same weekend?” He asks, brows furrowed. “Yeah, nearly always do.” “And you want to miss Monaco?” “I mean you only really need to do Monaco once and I did it four years in a row. The 500’s nice and I’ve already got my press passes and everything sorted for it.” “Right,” he murmurs. “Well, if you change your mind, I’m sure I could get you a press pass.” “Thanks, Lando. I’ll see you in Spain.” “See ya then.” He tells her but she’s already walked off and he can’t help but want to bang his head against the wall, wondering how he failed again in getting her number or a date with her.

Spain 2023

He’s on her schedule for the weekend but the whole interview feels off, stilted. It makes him worried as he watches her interview Nico after and how off she is. Makes him wonder if perhaps she’s coming down with something, a virus or mayhaps food poisoning.

“Are you alright?” He murmurs, when she’s done, stepping close to her as she shuts off her camera. She startles at the sound of his voice and he’s quick to wrap an arm around her waist before she falls into the tripod. He lets go as soon as she’s stable, though it hurts a bit. He wants to linger, to hold her. “Are you alright?” He repeats, looking at her closely. “I’m okay, Lando.” He gives her an unimpressed look and she shakes her head. “Really, I’m okay. Just a little distracted.” “Oh,” and he relaxes, relieved she’s not feeling unwell. “Anything I could help with?” “No.” She laughs. “That’s sweet of you though.” “Really, I could help. I don’t mind.” She looks at him consideringly, before looking around making sure no one else is near and no microphones can pick up anything. Looking back at him, she sighs. “My husband, he’s got an important weekend ahead of him and I’m just a little distracted because I’m not there.” He blinks at her, the word husband swimming in his head. “I didn’t know you were married.” “Not many people do.” She laughs before looking at him seriously. “Lando, please don’t tell anyone. There’s a reason it’s been kept quiet.” “Of course.” He reassures, still feeling off kilter, that the girl he liked was married. “No one will hear it from me.”

Austria 2023

He doesn’t see her for nearly a month after the revelation of her being married and he both loves and hates it. It’s time and space away from her that he needs so he can truly grapple with his feelings but it’s also time and space away from her when he already doesn’t get to interact much with her. He’s also a little ashamed that his feelings didn’t change for her at all, if anything he feels something stronger for her. Especially after watching all of her videos and the podcasts she’s been on. Noting that she never once mentions being with anyone but also never says that she’s single.

It’s odd. She’s barely a year older than him, yet married and keeping it a secret from seemingly everyone. He’s torn between happiness that she trusts him with something like that and jealousy because she’s with someone else, someone who’s not him. All of his feelings for her are like a dichotomy.

The secretive nature of her relationship and the way she doesn’t mention it all gives him hope that it's not a happy marriage. Maybe it’s on the outs, married too young and all. Maybe it’s actually good and she’s happy, but that thought doesn’t last long. If it was good, why wouldn’t she be public about it or at least about being with someone? Besides who on earth would be with her and not want it to be public knowledge?

He ends up getting fourth, not on the podium like he wants, like he craves but it’s close. As close as he’s gotten this season. The disappointment of not being on her interview list after the race is finished is barely there, too overrun with adrenaline and confidence.

Confidence that quickly takes a hit when he manages to catch her before she leaves to go back to her hotel.

“Pips!” The nickname feels weird in his mouth, having only ever called her by her actual name, despite her using the nickname Pips on her channel, in podcasts, with friends and such. “Lando.” She greets, confusion clear on her face. He can see Novalak a few steps away but he ignores the French driver. “Hey.” He greets, grinning at her and running a hand through his curls. “I was hoping to catch you before you left.” “Oh,” she looks shocked rather than flattered but he ignores that as well. “I was wondering if maybe we could talk sometime. Maybe about doing something special for next weekend since it’s Silverstone.” “Uh,” she glances down at her phone. “Yeah, sure. I have to get going, but I’ll email my contact with McLaren about getting something set up. And congrats on P4, Lando.” She adds on, as she’s already turning away. “Thanks.” He says, but it’s quiet and she clearly doesn’t hear already several feet away from him. Just like she clearly didn’t hear that he wanted her number.

—

Clem has never felt more glad when he gets back to his hotel and phones James that Marcus and Callum are both there. “Norris is trying to make the moves on your wife.” He says immediately seeing Callum’s face. The older blinks at him, “what?” “Yeah, what?” Clem ignores Marcus, “Lando Norris, has got a thing for Pips and he’s getting ballsy.”

The French driver had realized pretty quickly after Lando had weirdly joined her, Jak, Ollie, and himself that he had a crush, he hadn’t expected for it not to be a crush but rather something more. Lando had taken to following her around on race weekends when she was there and it was only today after hearing him try (and fail) to get her number, that it wasn’t a crush but something a bit more for the McLaren driver.

“He tried asking her for her number today. She didn’t give it, but still.” He tells him before swiping to his notes and copying the link he had found during lunch and sending it to Callum. “Saw that during lunch, he’s got heart eyes for her.” The three watch as Callum watches the video, his eyebrows going up as he sees the way Lando looks at his wife.

Marcus whistles peering over Callum’s shoulder. “That’s some serious heart eyes, mate.” “Yeah, I can see that.” He murmurs, looking at the video once more before looking back at Clem. “Was he asking for work or like a date?” “I mean, he tried to say it was for Silverstone, but it was pretty obvious that he really just wanted her number.” “Huh.” His tongue swipes over the inside of his cheek, lips pressing together. “He knows that she’s married. So, yeah ballsy indeed.” “He knows?” “Yeah, she told him at the Spanish GP. Not that it was to me, of course, but he knows.” “Damn, Norris really has a set of balls on him.” James says.

Silverstone 2023

As Lando begins to go back to his family after the sprint race and press, he’s pulled aside and behind Red Bull’s garage by Max and Oscar. The sight of them together is more confusing than being pulled away despite them just being on a podium together.

“Mate,” Max starts and Lando immediately goes on the defensive. “I didn’t do it! Whatever it is, I had no part in it.” Max looks at him unimpressed while Oscar looks vaguely uncomfortable, a face he’s only used to seeing Oscar make when they’re forced to film things together for YouTube too early in the morning. “You need to chill out.” “With what?” He looks at Oscar, but Oscar isn’t looking at him, so he’s forced to look at Max who’s giving him that stupid unimpressed and disappointed look. It’s seriously unfair how good he is at it. “Your heart eyes when Pips interviews you.” Oscar says for Max. “Or when she’s in the general vicinity. Fans are going to start picking up on it and the last thing she needs or McLaren, I’m sure, is that she’s sleeping with a driver to get more opportunities.” “I don’t have heart eyes.” He tries to protest, but it’s half-hearted. “And no one will think that.” “Are you dumb?” The Aussie snaps and he’s finally looking at Lando, but it’s not a look, it’s a glare. The sight makes him swallow and he takes a step back. “You’ve been doing this longer than I have, you damn well know how any woman in motorsports gets treated. Fans start picking up on you looking at her like that and they are going to tear her apart. Say even more that the only reason she gets to interview drivers is because she spreads her legs.” His eyes are wide and they dart over to Max hoping that the older driver will be a little sympathetic maybe get Oscar to stop fucking glaring because where the fuck did he get that from, but the Dutch shakes his head at him.

“She’s worked hard to get here. Don’t ruin her career for something you don’t even have a chance at getting close to.” Lando straightens at the words, jaw twitching and his own eyes narrow at him. “What’s that supposed to mean? I could have a chance.” He raises an eyebrow, sparing a glance at Oscar who nods in return at him. “Really, because Oscar told me she’s married. You want to ruin a marriage?” “You told Max?” He looks at the younger in disbelief, “you knew?” “She’s always been closer with us F2 and F3 drivers, a good few of us know.” “Unbelievable.” He huffs before shaking his head. “It doesn’t matter. I wouldn’t be ruining a marriage anyways. Not when it’s clearly an unhappy one.” The relief that had started to show on their faces drops immediately and now they’re both glaring at him.

“What? She’s like a year older than me, married, and practically no one knows about it. That’s weird. Not really a sign things are going well.” He’s putting all the confidence he can into the words, believing them, unwilling to think that perhaps he’s wrong. “Lando.” Max sighs, shaking his head. “I don’t even know where to start with how dumb and wrong you are.” “You barely know her.” Oscar chimes in. “You’ve had maybe two or three conversations with her outside of interviews. You have no idea whether she’s happy or not.” He presses his lips together, doubt starting to fester in his brain, but he pushes it away. He couldn’t be wrong about this. “Whatever.” He murmurs before shoving past them and walking as fast he can to where his family is waiting for him.

Belgium 2023

Pips can’t help but feel relieved when she doesn’t really see Lando at all on Friday. It was a bit unnerving the way he’d follow her around on the weekends she was there. Always paying attention closely to what she’s doing and saying. It felt unsettling having someone she wasn’t that close to paying so much attention to her.

Her luck however runs out on Sunday when after she finishes talking to Gabriel, wishing him luck in Monza, that he finds her.

“Hey.” He greets. “Hi Lando. Good job today.” “Thanks!” he beams. “I was just curious, are you doing anything for dinner tonight? A few of us are going out in about an hour, you could come.” She smiles apologetically. “I’m getting dinner with Jak, Ollie and their dads.” “Oh,” he looks disappointed for a second before flashing her a smile. “Maybe next time?” “Maybe.” She agrees with a nod, watching him walk away before hightailing it to where the boys and their dads are.

“Sorry David, Tim.” She apologies but they both wave it away with a smile. “What about us?” Ollie cries. “You left us waiting too.” She rolls her eyes at both of them, Jak nodding along with Ollie, before ruffling both of their hair. “Sorry to you two as well. Now, what could I do to convince one or both of you to come to some of the next few races with me?” “You mean after Monza?” Jak asks, as they all get into the car. The only girl not even grimacing as she gets in the middle, between both junior drivers. “Yeah, Singapore, Japan, Qatar. I know you’re both going to be at Austin.” David looks at her in the rearview mirror concerned. “Is everything alright, Pips?” “One of the drivers has got me a bit anxious.” Tim turns in his seat, “he hasn’t tried to,” She stops him before he can continue. “No, and I don’t think he’d do anything. He’s harmless really. I just would like the comfort of having someone familiar with me at the track all the time. I’d pay for your guys' tickets and hotel of course.”

Ollie looks briefly at his dad even though he was an adult and the older man gives him a nod. “I’ll join you. I don’t have anything with the FDA or Prema anyways unless it’s a week with no races.” “Me too. I’ll go.” “And you don’t need to worry about paying for the boys. Red Bull will be thrilled at one of their juniors coming to races that aren’t required or anything, they’ll happily pay for his tickets and hotel.” “And I’ll pay for Ollie’s tickets.” David takes his eyes off the road briefly to share a grin with Tim. “No need for a second room when we know that Ollie will just end up in Jak’s.” Tim and her both laugh while both of the boys make protesting noises. “Or in my room.” She adds. She would sometimes do movie nights with some of the F2 and F3 drivers and inevitably she’d end up with three or four people staying the night.

Later after dinner as Jak and Ollie try to find somewhere to get some ice cream she’s not surprised when David and Tim turn the conversation back to what she told them in the car.

“Are you sure he’s harmless?” She nods at Tim’s concern, “I’m sure. He’s just paying a lot of attention to me and it’s a bit off putting y’know since I don’t really know him.” “If he does anything,” David starts but she stops him. “If he does anything, it wouldn’t matter. Especially if it’s,” she pauses, unsure of how to say it, “unsavory.” she ends up settling on. “I couldn’t say anything, not if I’d still want a career in motorsports. But I don’t think it's like that at all. He seems to be more trying to figure me out than trying to ask me out or something.” She laughs.

The idea really was laughable, Lando having feelings for her and asking her out. She wasn’t exactly sure why he was paying so much attention to her but it couldn’t be because he had feelings for her. Especially since he knew she was married.

“Tell Callum, yeah?” David says. “He’ll want to know why you’ve got the boys with you.” “We’ve got a planned call before I go to bed. I’ll tell him then.” “Good.”

—

“Hello, darling.” She smiles, scooting back a little in the bathtub. “Hey, Cal.” “What are you doing?” “Taking a bath.” He groans and she can’t help but laugh. “Fuck, I’m jealous.” “You could take a bath too.” She laughs, pulling her phone away to put it on speaker and setting it on the bath sill. “But it wouldn’t be the same without you here. I miss you washing my hair.” She can hear him pouting and a fond smile pulls at her lips. “I miss it too. I miss you.” She sighs. “Next year will be better.” He reminds her. “Only F2 weekends when I don’t have a race and then the US races and Yas Marina.” “Yeah, next year will be a lot nicer.” She draws one of her legs up, swirling her fingers in the bubbles that are lingering on her skin.

“What’d you do today?” “An Oval test, other sim work. Nothing too exciting. How was dinner?” She frowns, reminded of the conversation she had with David and Tim. “It was good. It’s always nice to see David and Tim. Ollie and Jak were buzzing about.” She bites at her lip. “Actually speaking of the boys, they’ll be coming with me to the next three races I go too.” “Singapore, Japan, and Qatar? Did something happen?” She swallows harshly, knowing that Callum wouldn’t like what she had to say. “I’ve been feeling a little uncomfortable the past few race weekends. My anxiety’s been a bit high.” “Darling.” He breathes and the emotion in his voice makes her blink away tears. “One of the drivers has been watching me a lot. Like nonstop. If he’s around he’s got his eyes on me and it’s just unsettling. I barely know him and he just keeps looking at me.” “Are you alright?” “Yeah,” she nods even though he can’t see her. “I kind of feel like I’m overreacting, but I just, I don’t know, Cal. The whole thing feels weird.” She wraps her arms around herself, wishing that she wasn’t alone but with Callum so he could hold her. She could really do with one of his hugs. “I don’t think he’ll do anything, it doesn’t seem like he’s looking at me because he’s interested but more because he’s trying to figure me out?” Her voice gets a little high at the end, not sure if she’s making any sense.

“Who is it?” “Lando.” She doesn’t know what to expect from Callum but she wasn’t expecting what she got. “Shit.” He curses. “Callum?” “He has a thing for you.” “What? No.” “Pips, I promise, one hundred percent he’s got a thing for you. Clem noticed it a while ago but only told me during Austria.” “Austria?” “Fuck,” he curses again. “I’m sorry, I should’ve told you, but I mean I didn't really think he was going to do anything. I mean Clem said he was getting a little ballsy, trying to get your number.” “He never tried getting my,” she stops remembering the awkward conversation at Miami and then the one at Austria. “Oh my god.”

It’s silent between them for a few moments, Callum letting her wrap her head around it.

“Do you want me to go with as well? Join Ollie and Jak.” “No.” She murmurs before saying it again a bit louder. “I’ll be okay with Jak and Ollie. They know that I’m uncomfortable and it's because of a driver, they won’t leave me alone.” “If you change your mind, tell me and I’ll fly straight there. I don’t care if you’ve only got a day left of the weekend.” “Of course.”

“Are you sure you’re alright?” “Yeah, it’s just weird now knowing that he likes me. I mean you can’t really help who you get a crush on, but he knows I’m married. He knows I’m not available but he’s still paying so much attention to me. It’s just odd.” She ends up settling on. “Do you want me to change your flight?” “Please.” “I’ll do it right now.”

Singapore 2023

“Max!” She greets, smiling at the driver. “How are you doing today?” “I’m doing well. I see you have some assistants today.” He gestures to Jak and Ollie and she nods. “Yes, I’m afraid that I stole one of your junior drivers and an FDA driver as well.” “And is Jak being helpful? If he isn’t you tell me and I’ll make sure he’s stuck doing sim work for a week.” He jokes, making Jak gasp while both her and Ollie laugh. “He’s been a wonder. But let’s talk about Monza, a tough race for you.” “Little bit, it was a change of pace for sure. But you know, I enjoyed it.” He smiles. “Good and I’ve heard you didn’t celebrate breaking a monumentous record. Not even an ice cream? Chocolate? Perhaps buying yourself a new part for your sim setup?” “Ah! You remembered. No, still haven’t bought the part, I need to though soon, so that way I’m not bored when the season ends.” “Heaven forbid we have a bored Max Verstappen.” “Exactly, but I did actually have some chocolate to celebrate. It was good.” He tells her.

“Do you mind if I ask you a question, Max?” Ollie speaks up and she shifts a little to the side so the microphone can pick up his voice better. “Of course.” “Could you teach me how to make a stroopwafel?” “That’s your question? You can ask me anything Ollie, really, I don’t mind.” “No, could you teach me?” Max looks at her and laughs at the exasperated look on her face but can’t help nod. “You know what, yeah. Next time you're in England, I’ll teach both you and Jak how to make a stroopwafel.” “Could I join to film it? Because you don’t know how to make stroopwafels.” She laughs. “I’m Dutch, I definitely know how to make a stroopwafel.” “Sure, Max. Sure.”

“Could I ask a question?” Jak asks and Max nods again, ignoring his press officer that had approached him. “You’ve proven that you’re really good at geography. Do you think if you got dropped randomly somewhere in Milton Keynes, blindfolded, you could find your way to the factory in less than an hour?” “Jak,” she tries to scold, but she’s laughing too hard and the American smiles at her. “What Pips? He said he’s good at geography, I just want to know how good.” “They should become staples.” Max gestures at them, an amused smile on his face before he turns his attention to Jak. “I’d like to say yes, but I have no idea. I only really know my apartment and the factory around Milton Keynes, that's it.” He tells him, before looking at her. “So you're not good at geography.” Jak says, but she speaks over him, both Max and her ignoring him. “Thank you so much, Max and you’ll have this to look forward to for the next two races as well.” “Really?” “Yeah.” He turns to his press officer, voice just barely loud enough for the microphone to pick up. “I’m on her schedule for the next two races right?” The press officer nods and he grins. “Amazing. See you guys next week.”

As Max walks away, Ollie shuts the camera off and she shakes her head. “Please don’t do that with all the drivers.” She warns. “We won’t. Max is always down to joke around with us.” She nods, before grinning at the two. “You got something good for Charles?” “Oh yeah.” Jak nods, grinning. “Awesome.” She tells them, holding both of her hands up for high fives.

—

“I can’t believe the Red Bull streak is over.” Ollie murmurs, leaning against her as she puts her camera in its bag before putting it in her tote. “They’ll be back next week. This was just a one off.” Jak says confidently. “I don’t know,” the younger draws out, straightening. “I mean Ferrari could perform well in Japan.” “Yeah, if they don’t make a bad call.” Ollie fake scowls before launching himself at Jak who’s sitting on the couch opposite of hers.

She shakes her head as the two start wrestling, quickly falling off of the couch and onto the floor and she’s never been happier that there wasn’t a coffee table between two couches.

“Wish I had their energy.” A voice speaks from behind her before the couch is dipping beside her as someone sits. “Don’t we all?” She jokes, turning her head to give Lando an awkward smile before looking back at the boys. “Congratulations on P2. It was a good race. You did an amazing job.” “Thanks. Did they have team duties?” “No.” She shakes her head, crossing her ankles as his eyes focus on the side of her face. “They didn’t have anything to do for their teams or academies so I asked them to come with me, keep me company.” “I would’ve kept you company.” Her eyes widen for a moment and smile flickering, but she quickly pastes it back on, smiling at him for a second. “Wouldn’t be much company with free practices, press, and such.” “Well if you ever want some adult company, I’m available.” Her breathing stutters at the words adult company, at the emphasis on adult, a weird sick sense of dread filling her stomach. She had to be imagining that right? The way his voice lowered, the slight drawn out syllable. And for the first time she regrets not wearing her wedding ring for a totally different reason than normal.

Before she has to force herself to respond and god what would she even say to that, her name is being called by two voices and her attention snaps back to them.

“He bruised me!” They both whine at her, standing now with near identical pouts on their faces. She sighs and hopes that Lando can’t hear the relief in it as she stands. “Alright, you two. Let’s get some food and get to bed. We’ve got a long day ahead of us tomorrow.” “Oh, please.” Jak groans, pout disappearing at the mention of food. Ollie is the same, eyes alight with excitement. “Do you think we could get pizza?” “We’re not getting pizza in Singapore, Ollie!” Jak protests.

As the three begin to walk out of the room, she barely remembers to throw a half hearted wave goodbye over her shoulder at Lando. Leaving him looking after her with disappointment.

Japan 2023

Lando watches her the whole weekend, waiting for her to be alone, but if one of the F2 drivers isn't with her, they both are. She’s never left alone and he wonders if perhaps he came on a little too strong in Singapore, the high of the podium giving him a confidence like no other. Regret bubbles in him. He didn’t want to make her uncomfortable or upset. It was the last thing that he wanted.

But he never gets the chance to apologize and he can only hope that in Qatar that he’ll get the opportunity.

Qatar 2023

She nearly doesn’t go to Qatar. Not when she had over a week that was just Callum, her, and their families. It makes her crave what next year and season will bring. She does end up going, meeting Jak and Ollie at the airport and despite not wanting to leave Callum, she doesn’t regret it one bit.

Qatar has always been one of her favorite places to go for races. It may have only been introduced to Formula 1 in 2021, but she had been going there since 2017 for different races like Motocross and Superbike.

It’s the only race that she only attends the Saturday and Sunday of, despite it being a sprint weekend. And despite only attending the last two days, she doesn’t manage to avoid Lando.

The boys are just a bit ahead of her, listening to Max as he talks to them about sim racing, when Lando approaches her.

“I wanted to apologize.” She jumps at the sound of his voice out of nowhere, nearly tripping over her own feet. “What?” “I want to apologize for Singapore. I came on really strong and it wasn’t my intention to make you uncomfortable but I did. I’m sorry, I’ll do my best to keep some distance.” She barely knows what to say to that. “Thank you.” She settles on. “I appreciate it and I’d appreciate some distance.” “Oh,” he looks surprised by her ask and she returns her attention to the boys in front of her. Charles now having joined Max and them, and she can faintly hear Max and Charles squabbling like children over a strategy for an F2 race. “Lando, I’m married.” She hates that she needs to remind him of that fact, that it’s a fact so easily forgettable to him. “I’m not available. And I apologize if I’ve ever acted or given you a signal that I was.” “I know you’re married.” “If you know, then maybe you shouldn’t be hitting on a married woman.” And before he can reply she’s jogging to catch up to the four in front, telling Max and Charles that they’re strategies are both shit. The statement earns her squawks in protest while Ollie and Jak laugh.

Austin 2023

“My OG boys!” She crows as James focuses her camera on her as she rests her arm over Marcus’ shoulder and the other over Callum’s. “Reunited at last.” She sighs. Marcus sighs back, face scrunching up a bit. “Sadly.” Callum grins down at her as she fake glares at Marcus who immediately laughs. “But I thought we were your boys?” Jak says, gesturing between himself and Ollie, James swinging the camera to look at them. “No, no.” She says, removing her arms from the Indycar drivers and gathering the two F2 drivers in a hug. “They are my boys, you two are my little babies.” She coos and is surprised when they don’t protest or jokingly squirm away since a camera is on them. Completely missing that overhead Jak is giving the Indycar drivers a smug look while Ollie sticks his tongue at them.

James films them for another moment, before switching the camera off and handing it off to Callum.

“I forgot how much you baby them.” Callum teases her, when she finally returns to his side. “Good practice.” She teases in return, watching as he practically blue screens. “Gross.” Marcus remarks, nose wrinkling as he realizes why Callum has frozen up. “You can’t talk about it, don’t do it.” She tells the barely younger man. “Oh, I can talk about it, I just don’t want to think about you two doing it.” “He says as he just says the word it.” Callum chuckles, brushing a hand over the small of her back. “Well, I can talk more about it than either of them can.” He gestures to the two teenagers. She raises a brow, hearing a low chuckle from her husband as he realizes that she’s about to do something.

“Hey, Ollie.” She calls and he looks over at her, an eyebrow raised. “You have some condoms with you right?” Marcus chokes on his own spit and James turns a little red. “Yes.” He snorts. “I doubt I’ll be having sex this weekend though.” She gives a pointed look at Marcus when he says the word sex. “Never know, Ollie. Never know.” “I hate you so much.” Marcus mumbles and she just grins.

—

“Marcus, Callum. Good to see you both.” Charles greets, shaking both of their hands as the small group watches Pips interview Daniel, the Ferrari driver next in line. “Good to see ya, mate.” Marcus smiles. Callum and him may have both had a rough time at the FDA, but Charles had always been kind and nice to them, even after. “How are you liking Indycar, Marcus? I’ve seen a couple of races.” “It’s good. You probably don’t remember what an F2 car feels like, but it’s a hell of alot smoother than that thing.” He laughs, giving him one of those shit winks he has. “I can vaguely remember.” He turns his attention to Callum, not minding that the driver has his eyes firmly on the girl in front of them. “And how are you? I saw the uh, whole twitter thing.” Callum flashes him a quick smile, trying not to show how bothered he still somewhat is by the whole thing. “I’m alright. Been better with my twitter being private and all.” “Good, good.” He nods, then seeing Daniel step away, he excuses himself for his own interview.

“She’s got Gasly tomorrow right?” The British driver makes a humming noise. “Logan and Norris as well.” “Ooh, last name basis now?” Callum throws him a look. “If he’s going to refer to the boys that way, yes.” He looks at him in disbelief. “Still?” When he nods, Marcus runs a hand over his face. “Jesus christ. He’s a bit of a disaster isn’t he?” “More so just caught up in this and Quadrant. Imagine if Max ever goes back, he’ll interact again, but we’ll see.” “So, don’t hold my breath.” He snorts, watching as Charles attempts to explain the tyre strategy. “Yeah, don’t hold your breath.”

—

Lando can’t help but frown when as soon as he’s answered her last question and she’s thanked him, she’s turning her camera off, already stepping further back from him. “I’m not going to do anything.” Her head snaps up to look at him, disbelief on her features and he nearly smacks himself as he realizes what he said. “Fuck, I, mean, I didn’t,” he stutters about feeling warm and he can feel the two Indy drivers she’s close with watching him closely, which makes it worse. Blood rushed to his face and he’s thankful he’s still got a bit of tan, harder to tell when he’s flustered. “I’m sorry, I didn't think.” “Seems to be a common occurrence.” The jab should make him wince, but he can’t help but laugh. It was true, had gotten him into a fair amount of trouble with PR. “Not really like you need brains to drive, right?” He expects her to laugh, like everyone else does when he makes the joke, though there is a bit of truth to the statement depending on the driver. But the disbelief is back on her face and she just shakes her head. “Good luck in Mexico, Lando. I’ll see you for an interview in Brazil.” “You’re not going to Mexico?” She shakes her head and unscrews the camera from its tripod, placing it carefully in her tote. “No, but I wish you luck.” “Did you mean that?” “What?”

He bites at the inside of his bottom lip, nerves making him feel a bit jittery, but he wants to know, has to know, that despite him constantly putting his foot in his mouth, saying the wrong thing and making her uncomfortable, if she means it. “When you wish me good luck, do you mean it? Are you actually hoping I’ll do well?” Her lips thin as she folds down the tripod and he’s holding his breath waiting for an answer. “Anytime I tell a driver good luck, I mean it.” It’s general, detached, but something surges in him, because every interview at the end she’s wished him luck. And he knows that she doesn’t do that with every driver, in fact some drivers, he doesn’t think he’s ever heard her wish good luck. “Great.” The word comes out a little breathless and he can feel himself flush more. “I mean, amazing, that's good, I, thank you.” He ends up settling on, feeling like he’s on fire. “You’re welcome.”

Brazil 2023

She giggles as he pulls her back onto the bed, this time however his arms are still tight around her, keeping her close. “Callum, I have to go.” “No.” He whines, rolling over and taking her with him, so that she’s in between him and the bed. Unable to stop a small smirk from forming at the way her legs immediately separate to make space for him. “You should stay here with me today. Just us.” He murmurs, bending down to hover his lips over her neck. “All alone together in this bed. Room service when we need some energy.” She hums, the idea more than appealing. “It does sound good.” She presses a kiss to his lips. “Yeah?” “Yeah.” She smiles, before nudging two of her fingers into his ribs. The sensation makes him yell as he rolls off her, arms coming up to protect his ribs and she takes the opportunity to get off and away from the bed.

“Pips,” he groans, rubbing at the spot she hurt him. “What was that for?” “I have to go to the track. I have work.” She tells him. “But it’s a Thursday. Nothing good happens on a Thursday.” “Well, this one is different.” He eyes her, really taking note of what she’s wearing. He had thought it odd how dressed up she was getting for a simple media day, but some days she liked doing that. Dressing to the near nines for the hell of it. “You got an important interview.” She smiles and he’s standing up, crossing the room to kiss her.

“You never said.” “I was expecting them to cancel.” She admits, still not sure why they reached out to see if she’d want to do an interview. She knew part of it was PR, but still didn’t make sense that they choose her, when there were other content creators involved with motorsports, ones at that, that spent far more time on F1, but they had chosen her. She also couldn’t help but be glad that her interview with him would take place after her interviews with everyone else. When the track was starting to wind down from the press. “Who is it with?” He asks. “I mean, am I allowed to know who it is?” “Of course you’re allowed to know.” She laughs, brushing her fingers through his hair. It was getting to be a bit long. She’d have to find someplace for him to get his haircut before Yas Marina. “It’s Christian.” His eyes widened. “Horner?” “Yeah.” “Fuck.” He swears, blinking. “I mean, shit.” He laughs. “Are you ready for this? Get enough breakfast? Got your notebook?” He starts patting at his thighs where his wallet would be if he was wearing jeans. “Do you need me to get you some coffee? Drive you to the track?” He glances down when he realizes he’s not wearing anything but boxers, cursing, before looking around the room for some jeans. He doesn’t notice the way she’s looking at him at first. Eyes soft and filled with light and love. Smile fond and infatuated. But then her hand is grasping at his arm, tugging lightly until he turns around at the sound of his name.

She presses forward, kissing him and his hands drop the jeans he had just found, grabbing at her waist.

“I’m so in love with you, Callum Ilott.” She breathes when they separate, unable to not smile, heart beating a little fast at how much she loves this man, her husband. “I’m in love with you too, Pips Ilott.” She laughs, remembering how she nearly signed their marriage certificate with Pips instead of her actual name. “Dinner when I get back?” He nods, stealing another kiss from her. “I’ll have something ordered from somewhere for us.” “Thank you.” “Of course.” He tells her, before tapping her ass with a wink and letting his hands fall away. “Now go and knock his socks off.” She shakes her head, laughing a little, but moves to pick up her tote. “I’ll put in a word about Indycar for you.” “If you don’t leave,” he starts. “I’m going, I’m going.” She laughs, grabbing her key card before opening the hotel room door. “I will put in a word for you though, love you!” She tells him, closing the door behind her. ‘Love you too!” He responds, despite the door being closed as he shakes his head.

“I’m so fucking lucky you married me.” He murmurs, knowing that she wasn’t joking about bringing up Indycar to the team principal.

—

She can’t help but beam as she leaves and starts to walk towards the track’s exit. Her interview with Christian, went well, really well. She had even managed to get him to talk about his less than savory comment about women in motorsports without getting shut down. And she nearly does a little dance as she nears the gates, she hadn’t even had to bring up Indycar, Christian doing it for her.

It had been off camera as he asked her about how she liked Indycar and there had been a keen interest in his eyes as they talked about the sport for a good ten or so minutes. She did her best not to think about how he told her to give her husband his best. She wasn’t surprised that his team and or Red Bull’s had done their due diligence on her.

“You’re certainly happy.” She smiles at Lando, the sight of him not even dampening her mood. “I had a very good interview.” “Oh, something good to watch out for?” “Only if you like Red Bull.” His nose wrinkles at that. “Red Bull? Really?” “You don’t just turn down an opportunity to interview Christian Horner, Lando.” “Holy shit. Really?” She nods, still beaming and he can’t help but smile back at her. “That’s fucking nuts. Congrats.” “Thanks.” She laughs, adjusting her tote. “Could I buy you a drink? Help you celebrate a little?” He offers, wanting to continue seeing her like this. Happy and like she was floating with it. She shakes her head, “I’ve got dinner to get to. But thank you Lando.” “Of course.” He murmurs. “And congratulations again.” She flashes him another smile, before walking through the gates, eager to get back to Callum and tell him all about it.

Yas Marina 2023

Lando pats Oscar on the back, happy for his teammate who had managed to get on the podium again. A nice P3, compared to his P5. And he had managed to finish within the top ten of the driver standings for his rookie season, finishing at ninth, while Lando himself finished eighth.

“You happy that the season is over?” He asks, as Oscar starts to change out of his fireproofs and race suit. The Aussie shrugs. “I mean, I guess. Will be nice to not be a rookie next year. I’m just happy to go back home for a bit. Spend some time with Lily.” “I’m surprised she’s not here.” Oscar pauses as he pulls on some pants, “she’s with Fred and them.” “Fred?” Oscar rolls his eyes. “Vesti, the guy that managed to win the F2 championship despite it nearly being impossible.” “Ah.” Lando nods, the name ringing a bell now.

He had seen a little bit of the races, knew that Pourchaire retiring nearly halfway through the sprint race had been a bit of a whatever, but then on the third lap of the feature race he had to retire after a crash between him and some other driver, he thinks Stanek.

He eyes Oscar who’s on his phone, texting he thinks by the way his thumb is moving across the lower part of the screen. “Have you seen Pips? I wanted to say hi to her.” “Lando,” “Honestly.” He holds his hands open. “I just want to say hi and tell her how much I liked the Horner interview.” Oscar narrows his eyes, looking at him. “She’s with some current and former F2 drivers right now, friends, and girlfriends. We’re all going out to dinner.” He glances down at his phone, before looking back at Lando. “If you want you can come with.” “Really?” “As long as you promise to be on your best behavior.” Lando grins at him. “Can do.” He rolls his eyes, slipping his phone into his back pocket while grabbing for his wallet. “Also, on the ride there, maybe look at the F2 line up for this year and 2021’s. It’s rude to call people by their last names, when you should know their first.” He flushes at the words, but nods. “Yeah, I’ll do that.”

—

Pips has never been so thankful for James' management skills as the large group of fifteen settles around a table in a private room of a restaurant. There’s a few empty places still around it, but there’s only two more people they’re waiting for, Oscar and Logan.

A bunch of different conversations are in the room but everyone stops to cheer when Oscar and Logan enter the room. “We’re not worthy!” Clem shouts, with a laugh taking another drink of wine. Logan rolls his eyes, but grins, sitting on the other side of Jak. Oscar quickly moves to Lily’s side, pressing a kiss to her cheek before sitting next to her. “Brought along a guest.” He tells everyone. She looks over at the entrance for the private dining room but before she can react, Callum is taking her hand in his under the table, squeezing it. “Well, you know us. The more the merrier.” James jokes, waving the British formula one driver over, motioning for him to take a seat.

Lando claps Fred on the shoulder as he passes by him, the Dane sitting at the head of the table. “Congrats on the championship, mate. Was nuts to watch.” “Thank you, Lando. Congratulations to you as well for the season.”

“Please tell me I’m not going to have to watch him hit on you.” Marcus murmurs to her, leaning over Callum to do so as they watch Lando sit on the other side of the table just two seats down. She sends him a look, shaking her head. “No. Crowds seem to deter him.” Marcus laughs at that, so does Lissie having heard it as well, while Callum shakes his head with a smile.

“You going to be okay?” Callum’s voice is just a murmur, Lissie having thankfully distracted Marcus. “Yeah.” She squeezes his hand. “Besides, I’ve got you haven’t I?” He smiles, running a finger over her wedding band and ring, an odd but pleasant sensation to the both of them. “Always.”

“Your interview with Horner was really good.” “Thank you.” She was a little surprised that Lando had seen it already. It hadn’t even been out for a week. “Was there anything cut that you wish could have made it in?” She shakes her head. “No. There were some cuts made for pacing, but during the interview we didn’t talk about anything that needed to be cut.” “And after?” Lando asks, fishing a little. She shrugs, “NDA.” “You had to sign an NDA?” “Yeah, and it was a good one, wasn’t it Pips?” “It was a bit more serious than I’m used to.” She allows before smiling at James. “And thank you for letting me borrow Evan again.” “He was more than happy too.”

“You’ve signed NDA’s before?” She nods, looking at Lando a little confused. “Yeah. I had to sign one when we did that interview in Silverstone for McLaren. It’s really basic just making sure that if I overhear anything I don’t talk about it with anyone, especially competitors. Williams had me sign an identical one before I interviewed Logan in Miami.” “Ron says hi, by the way.” Logan pipes in, grinning at her. “Tell Ron to focus on his actual granddaughter.” The American laughs but nods, turning his attention back to the conversation he was in.

“I didn’t realize.” “It’s part of the job. I don’t mind it. Have you had an NDA given to you yet, Lissie?” The younger girl nods. “Yeah, a few. Chip gave me one after Marcus and I disclosed.” “Those are fun aren’t they?” She groans, leaning a bit over Marcus. “It was absurdly long and convoluted. I’ve never seen anything like it.” “I had the same thing.”

“I don’t remember any large NDA’s.” Callum says, brows drawn together. “Remember that binder I got, it was green.” “Oh.” His eyes widen and then his nose scrunches up. “God, that was long. What on earth did they think you were going to talk about with other people?” She shrugs, “They weren’t exactly wrong considering my conversation at Red Bull.” “Well, what did you talk about at Red Bull?” Marcus asks, eyeing the couple. Her hands go a bit in the air, before one goes up to her face, zipping her mouth shut. Marcus narrows his eyes at her, before turning his attention to Callum. “Do you know?” He shrugs. “I don’t know. Do I know?” “I hate you two.” Marcus says after a moment, the few other people listening in laughing. “I mean, really. You two are perfect for each other. Couldn’t think of a better match or married couple.” She laughs before smiling at her husband. “Ah, you hear that honey? We’re perfect for each other.” “Only took him five years to admit it.”

“You two are married?” She freezes at the weird tone in Lando’s voice, the whole room quieting and she can see James looking at Marcus, before she turns her head to look at Lando. “Yeah, we have been for two years, closer to three.” “He’s your husband?” Eyes widen all around the table and she rests a hand on Callum’s thigh. “Yes, he is. And he’s the best husband anyone could ask for.” Her tone is warning, hoping he won’t say anything worse. She wouldn't stand for anyone trying to say that Callum didn’t deserve her. “Wow.” Lando murmurs, before smiling the best he can at the both of them. “Congratulations to you two. Can I ask why all the secrecy?” “We just weren’t ready to share.” She tells him.

“Did you just say weren’t?” Clem interrupts Lando, before the Brit can say anything. “Holy fuck.” James says, catching the way Callum and Pips smile at each other. “You two are coming out.” He makes a face at the words. “I’d reword that one.” She presses her face into his shoulder at the look Marcus gives him, stifling a laugh. The Kiwi was most definitely going to continue calling it their coming out now. “You two are actually going public. I can’t believe it.” She shakes her head at the disbelief in Marcus’ voice, “you knew this was coming. We want kids, other than Jak and Ollie,” she quickly adds on before either of the boys can protest. “And we don’t want to worry about hiding our relationship and the pregnancy or them.” “I better be godfather.” He tells her. “Me as well.” “Same here.” “I definitely should get godfather.” “We’ll share a kid.”

“How many kids do you think we’re having exactly?” Callum asks, looking at everyone who had spoken in disbelief. “Nine.” “Ten.” “Seven, definitely seven.” “Five?”

“Logan!” Her eyes are wide as she stares at the American. “I’m guessing that you don’t want ten.” “No.” She shakes her head. “Can you imagine? We have to think of the possibility of them all wanting to do karting and paying for that. Ten karting careers is way too many.” “It’s also three by the way.” Oscar says, taking a drink after. “Though if the last ends up being multiples and they end up with four or five, that’s fine.” “How do you know that?” James asks. “Lily.” “Nah, see, that's girlfriend privilege. Unfair advantage. I want him out of the running for godfather.” James points at Oscar as he looks at the two of them. They share a look, before looking at James. “Yeah, we haven’t decided anything. And there’s still about a year and a half until anything gets decided, so we can’t put him out of the running yet. Unless of course, he doesn’t want to be godfather.” Callum says. “Oh, I absolutely want to be in the running.” James points at him again. “Unfair advantage.”

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