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touchmycoat · 2 years

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mer!LQG noncon breeding, pt.1(??)

this is getting out of hand y'all....I'm a little tempted to call it a day and stop the fic here but my thirsty ass probably,, will,,,continue, ,

Rated E, 4.8k

CW: noncon, captivity, milking/breeding, graphic depictions of violence, **live feeding and cannibalism**

At first he felt the chains, the bands of metal that cuffed his tail to his arms and his arms to his back. They were difficult not to feel. He was also bound upright with his back to a wall where if he hung like a dead fish, his muscles would elongate and his joints would slowly pull out of alignment like rotting. So he bobbed, relieved somewhat for the water’s buoyancy as he kept himself afloat against what little give the chains allowed. Mostly he just felt humiliated. And angry. And wary.

A few days passed and anger turned to fury, wariness to dread. The water around him was contained but not stagnant, the oxygen levels never waning as his gills carefully pumped water. Yet there was no food, which meant either his captors intended to starve him to death or they knew he didn’t need to eat. Likely the latter, given the restraints. But there was no other sign of life—no disturbance in the water, no footsteps from an airbreather drumming through the walls.

A few weeks passed and he wondered who would do this and if they had died to some stupid consequence of their own making without telling anybody else about the mer they’d chained up in a tank. He wondered if it was Shen Qingqiu, some sick plan to get rid of him once and for all. Shen Qingqiu was the last mer he remembered seeing after the fever took him. Perhaps Shen Qingqiu had drugged him. Sold him off to the human connections they’d always suspected Shen Qingqiu of having.

Another few weeks, and he was going out of his mind. The water getting cycled meant he never tasted his own blood for long, and the magical nature of the cuffs—the way they grated off his scales, yes, but refused to cut his bones—suggested that this prolonged isolation was intentional. Whoever had him in captivity was icing him out, was torturing him, or just didn’t care and wanted an insane mer for entertainment for some fucking reason—

A few months passed and Liu Qingge couldn’t feel the cuffs anymore.

I don’t believe we’ve met.

The psychic amusement felt like a jet of boiling water on Liu Qingge’s mind, raw from isolation. He thought he must have roared, but had a hard time remembering what sensations felt like. He’d been hanging for a few days now, tail cramping and arm tendons overextending. When he jerked upright, his whole body felt snapped like a fish gut string.

A human floated in front of him, broad and calm. The human had legs clothed in layers of rich robes. The human was not struggling to breathe or stay underwater.

Something twinged, sharp and unpleasant, in Liu Qingge’s shoulder. He’d been straining to reach the human without thinking like some kind of brainless animal.

Who— It was difficult to remember how to communicate. Who are you?!

The human winced, exaggerated and pointed.

This Lord is Luo Binghe, and I should call you Liu-shishu.

Something beneath all the discombobulation in Liu Qingge’s gut, the fervent disbelief that this was real, plummeted. Then burned.

I am a disciple of Shen Qingqiu.

Shen Qingqiu… The name broke like waves on Liu Qingge’s mind. Shen Qingqiu put you up to this?!

You could say that. The laughter in the human’s eyes was genuine, and Liu Qingge wanted to cut his face off and eat through his brains. Not your Shen Qingqiu though. I ought to explain.

Then the human—Luo Binghe—was reaching out and taking Liu Qingge by the chin. A few months ago Liu Qingge would’ve bitten his entire hand off without a thought but now, the single point of touch felt more like air than anything Liu Qingge’s gills had managed to pump in the last handful of weeks. In fact, Liu Qingge was so wrapped up in the external sensation that it took him a moment to realize that Luo Binghe was speaking.

—parallel universes. How curious, isn’t it? And how fortuitous that I can simply find another Shen Qingqiu and finally get the ending that I deserve.

Liu Qingge had no idea what Luo Binghe was talking about. He glared hard into Luo Binghe’s eyes and found, annoyingly, some distant delight there. Like a pet fish had done a trick.

And what do I, Liu Qingge snarled, flashing rows of sharp teeth, have to do with you and Shen Qingqiu?

Nothing, Luo Binghe confessed, and Liu Qingge boiled with how easily he’d said that. In my world, Shen Qingqiu had killed you before anything of consequence. He was about to kill you again, you know. I took you from that cave and healed your fever.

Then you chained me up and left me here for months.

On months, a part of Liu Qingge’s psychic projection broke off like sandstone after a storm. A mockery of condolence danced across Luo Binghe’s brow.

It’ll be easier for you if you believe this Lord to be your savior, Luo Binghe laughed, giving Liu Qingge’s chin a little shake. Liu Qingge did snap teeth then, and Luo Binghe withdrew his touch. Be grateful, and be of service. No need to make this hard on yourself.

In the space of a breath Liu Qingge knew with certainty that Luo Binghe had broken creatures before. Had broken them and broken them in for use, had known exactly which creatures with what mangled thoughts stayed the most docile under his thumb. Liu Qingge also knew he would be torn to a thousand pieces before he ever became that sort of creature. He would sooner die than lose himself as this self-professed lord’s plaything.

And judging by the smirk on Luo Binghe’s face, he knew it too.

But as expected of the man who saw through my Shizun’s facade before anybody else. There was real applause in Luo Binghe’s tone, and Liu Qingge had no idea how a creature could come to be like Luo Binghe. No idea at all. The man so stubborn that Shen Qingqiu had to kill you first. You know, I’m almost sorry to do this to you.

Luo Binghe paused, waiting. Liu Qingge refused to give him what he was obviously waiting for.

…Well, I’m sure Liu-shishu understands. If anyone wants revenge against Shen Qingqiu, it’s—

Shen Qingqiu isn’t doing this, Liu Qingge interrupted, flat. You are.

Luo Binghe’s eyes were as dark and lightless as tar before he hummed one lone, placid note.

I suppose that’s true.

Then he reached out and touched, of all things, Liu Qingge’s abdomen. Once again Liu Qingge forgot to twist away, but the skimming touch was gone as soon as it came.

So you’re right. You don’t matter. There are tests I have to run and I need a mer to do so. Everybody thinks you’re dead so you’re perfect.

There was something of the ocean about Luo Binghe, Liu Qingge thought dimly, the raw and ruthless strength of her. It had been a long time since anything made Liu Qingge feel this unnervingly small and inconsequential.

I’m going to free myself, Liu Qingge swore, and I’m going to kill you.

But Luo Binghe was already swimming away.

Alright Liu-shishu. I’m looking forward to you trying.

The first drug came a day later, poured like a cup of wine from the hand of some indolent young lord. Liu Qingge’s head snapped up the moment he felt the disturbance in the water, but what was there to do? The eddies from the pour, only slightly more viscous than its saltwater bath, had already dissipated, and it would soak into Liu Qingge’s skin. Either it would induce its intended effect or it wouldn’t.

Maybe it wasn’t any drug at all, but just the litter of a drunk underling.

Maybe Luo Binghe would now jump in, experience a hitherto unknown, utterly lethal allergic reaction, and free Liu Qingge to help. And Liu Qingge would—he’d propel them both up to the surface, morph legs, and slit Luo Binghe’s throat.

But no other disturbances on the water surface came, and Liu Qingge was left alone again, angrily attributing the prickling beneath his skin to Luo Binghe’s drug and not at all to the well of unease growing in his core.

By that evening, he knew what the drug had done, and the moment Luo Binghe came within reach Liu Qingge was snapping forward with all his strength, fangs bared to tear Luo Binghe’s throat out.

He managed to taste blood, and then felt an impact down his head and back so strong that his vision went white for minutes. By the time he wrestled his consciousness back, there was metal stretching his mouth wide open and Luo Binghe had a hand on the torn tip of his tail.

Honestly, Liu-shishu, Luo Binghe tsked, squeezing the bone Liu Qingge had broken until Liu Qingge was pale and trembling. Was that at all necessary? All I did was push your biological instincts a little forward in time.

Liu Qingge had dislocated a shoulder as well but couldn’t get the angle to push it back into place. Luo Binghe’s smile was sharp and intentional as he got into Liu Qingge’s face. Liu Qingge’s jaw ached to bite and rend flesh, but the thing Luo Binghe had put into his mouth wouldn’t allow it.

Luo Binghe snapped the strap of the gag against Liu Qingge’s cheek, a mild sting that was somehow more humiliating than everything Luo Binghe had done so far.

If you’re going to be this sensitive about the very first experiment, that doesn’t bode well for the rest. Take my advice, why don’t you? You’ll be much happier if you just relaxed.

Liu Qingge worked his jaw so hard that metal creaked and he tasted blood. Luo Binghe’s grin widened.

You are, he laughed, placing his palm flat on Liu Qingge’s scales, right over Liu Qingge’s uncomfortably swollen abdomen, incredibly entertaining.

Then he pushed down with the heel of his palm, exerting more and more steady pressure until something inside Liu Qingge’s body gave.

This Lord didn’t expect to be so entertained.

Between some of his smallest scales around the center of his tail, fevered skin split around a natural opening. Luo Binghe pushed until milt rushed out, ropes of white that disseminated into the water in tiny, floating specks. Luo Binghe pushed until the stuffiness that his drug had built up inside Liu Qingge’s stomach eased, loosened like a soaked sponge, and finally went away.

There we go, Luo Binghe murmured. His hand was still on Liu Qingge’s stomach like a brand. That wasn’t so difficult.

Liu Qingge would rather have the bloating back. He’d rather be cut into with a dinner knife than rubbed like this, all fake comfort, like stroking an animal after having it fucking neutered.

Ah, Liu-shishu came so quickly that I didn’t have time to collect a sample.

Luo Binghe’s hand was warm like a punchline, still rolling against Liu Qingge’s abdomen in small, gentle undulations. But his other hand now brought out a vial.

Now where is the opening…here?

Liu Qingge bucked again when Luo Binghe’s fingertip dipped into his slit. Luo Binghe just slammed him back against the wall, chains rattling and broken bones burning.

I said, relax.

The vial was thin and its lips smooth glass. It was nearly painless going in, Liu Qingge’s inexperienced walls letting it in with only a minor twinge of discomfort. Luo Binghe didn’t push it in far, but Liu Qingge still roared. He still fought tooth and tail against Luo Binghe’s hold, determined to snap the fucking glass in half and stab Luo Binghe with it, until Luo Binghe, expression going cold, bodied into him with twice as much force, pinning him with his shoulder, chest, and knee.

His teeth found Liu Qingge’s jaw as well, grazing in warning; Liu Qingge had been bitten by sharks before with duller teeth than Luo Binghe’s.

Too good to listen, hm?

Luo Binghe’s first suddenly drove into Liu Qingge’s stomach with unprecedented force. A plume of bubbles exploded from Liu Qingge’s mouth, rushing toward the surface.

At the same time Luo Binghe hummed and tipped the vial this way and that before slipping it out with a thumb on top as stopper. White milt filled the inside, readily visible. Luo Binghe examined Liu Qingge’s entrance left in its wake, almost curiously brushing over the lips of swollen muscle.

Then he was smiling at Liu Qingge, one hand patting Liu Qingge’s cheek in open condescension before pulling the gag out.

Liu-shishu’s seriously injured himself today, Luo Binghe sighed. He finally kicked away and Liu Qingge didn’t know if the loss of touch made all his pain feel worse or better. This Lord recommends you take it easy for a month or two. To heal.

Which meant Luo Binghe was going to ice him out again, leave him untouched and deprived of all sensation at the bottom of this pit after having been used and emptied against his will.

Until then.

Liu Qingge couldn’t even send him off with another threat.

The water was cycled, and Liu Qingge could no longer smell his own milt.

The water was cycled, and Liu Qingge couldn’t even feel his own skin. It occurred to him that Luo Binghe might still be drugging the water, soaking him in sedatives to compound his sense of isolation. If so, then it worked. If so, then Liu Qingge was the loneliest creature on the planet; even torn-up skin and broken scales couldn’t puncture the murk swallowing up his brain.

For the first time in his very long life, Liu Qingge felt that water kept poor company. All it did was bury and forget. All it did was pollute. Liu Qingge was buried and forgotten. Liu Qingge was polluted.

Something splashed over the surface of his water and the force of it felt like an explosion on Liu Qingge’s numbed-out senses, so much so that he was actually stunned for an unacceptably long time. It felt like the still-sensate fraction of his brain was being borne upon opaque foam that was being dashed against a cliffside—no matter how stiffly he tried to hold himself, he was barreled ass over head. No matter how he tried to swim out, he remain smothered.

By the time his mind finally tired itself out, whatever thing had intruded on his isolation was long gone, and Liu Qingge had no way of knowing if it had been more drugs or a hand or an ally. That could have been Liu Qingge’s only chance of escaping and he blew it on useless thrashing.

…Who was he kidding? That was no ally. There would be no rescue, because thanks to Shen Qingqiu—no, thanks to Luo Binghe—not a single soul in the world knew Liu Qingge was alive enough to need rescuing.

Alive enough was something of a comforting qualifier though. Either he was or he wasn’t, and the moment he wasn’t, then he’d become dead enough to kill. Great, get Shen Qingqiu involved then. According to Luo Binghe, that bastard was the only one with a track record of killing him. For all their years of disagreements and teeth-baring fights, Shen Qingqiu had somehow turned out to be the only one Liu Qingge could count on now to put him out of his misery.

It was a drug, a different one that first made all of Liu Qingge’s organs cramp and then all his tendons ache. The worst part was, Liu Qingge was grateful. The new types of discomfort, one that he was not numbed to the bones by, felt good, felt easy to focus on. Liu Qingge felt embarrassingly relieved to have something other than meditation take his attention after all these months of nothing but silent non-sensation.

Two days after the aches, the bloating started again. This time though, whatever his body was generating (and Liu Qingge had a sick, sick idea) seemed to be taking more out of him than his body was ready to give. Everything was sore, and Liu Qingge spent more time passed out from strange exhaustion than in meditative trance. His tail fins grew so discomfortingly restless that by the time Liu Qingge realized, he’d already tattered them to ribbons against the chains and wall. His abdomen swelled at the cost of his tail muscles, the layer of fat over his ribs.

All in all Liu Qingge knew he looked quite mangled for Luo Binghe’s visit, but didn’t expect the displeased surprise in Luo Binghe’s frown. He didn’t expect Luo Binghe’s touch to hurt and for the hiss of pain to slip unbidden out through his teeth.

Shishu’s running a fever, Luo Binge observed, running his hand just above Liu Qingge’s cheek and neck but not touching again.

The hell did you give me, Liu Qingge murmured, eyes tracing the hovering hand. He wanted touch. He didn’t want touch. He wanted that, the elastic skin and the resistance of muscles between his teeth. The hovering was making him dizzy.

Nothing to cause this I hope, or some idiots with their lofty promises are about to die, Luo Binghe answered darkly. The question is, could this be the natural biology of your species? Does the spawning of roe typically forecast death?

Roe. Of fucking course. The twist of disgust in Liu Qingge’s gut, after a moment, floated painlessly away, to be felt some other time when Liu Qingge wasn’t so damn tired.

He must have answered in the negative, because Luo Binghe lifted a skeptical brow.

Are you certain? Because no offense, but Liu-shishu doesn’t exactly seem the type to be knowledgeable about sexual reproduction—

Liu Qingge lost track of time. He came to again with the soft, pleasing gnash of food between his teeth. His head shook on instinct, trying to tear flesh free, and he heard a low chuckle within the dispersing cloud of cooling red blood.

This is a nice surprise.

Movement, right in front of Liu Qingge, and Liu Qingge had never felt so capable—the starved and dying creature with food finally within reach. He opened his jaw again. Bit. Tore. His gums were warmed. His throat and belly went hot and satisfied with the rush of blood and finally, his eggs would be fed, and all at once his stomach felt packed, stretched to the brim with food and readiness to mate mate find a mate and spawn—

Poor Shishu, chained up here for so long. Shall this Lord let you stretch some? Go on, swim around a bit.

Weights and steady pressure—around his wrists, around his tail—were suddenly gone, and he—

Liu Qingge woke up, his mind cold and true. Luo Binghe had taken off his shackles. It didn’t matter why. He had to escape.

So, pushing clean through all the tearing pain of moving unused muscles again, Liu Qingge launched himself at the water surface.

Arms clamped around his neck, less of a choke than a hold. Liu Qingge swam harder. If Luo Binghe wanted to come along for the ride then Liu Qingge would damn well show him the dangers of water pressure. Legs tried to snake around his waist as well but Liu Qingge shook them off. He dislodged all the grips and clamps he could but that wasn’t the point, the point was the surface getting brighter and brighter within reach. The point was freedom, finally, because Luo Binghe was stupid enough to actually undo his—

Something—

There were things crawling under Liu Qingge’s skin.

There were things crawling, then tasting, then gnawing.

Pain was nothing. The surface was something. Out, get out of this oceans-forsaken tank. Keep swimming.

Then tearing.

Keep swimming.

I have to say, I really am impressed.

Keep—

Convulsing.

Liu Qingge slammed into the wall of the tank, clawing. He could drag himself up the last few meters, he could. He’d dig his damn fingers right into the metal if he had to, turn his bones into teeth. He could.

He couldn’t. Fingertips slipped and there was a leg, a booted foot pushing him away from the wall, away from any holds and out into open water, where there was nothing to do but swim and Liu Qingge couldn’t swim—

They sank, slow and inevitable. Liu Qingge’s entire body felt mashed together like sodden paper being crumpled between palms. There was a palm on him, curious and almost protective, resting over his belly. It didn’t let go even once they landed back on the floor of the tank. It stroked, and urged Liu Qingge’s stiff body back against Luo Binghe’s warm, clothed chest, between Luo Binghe’s spread legs, into the triumphant wrap of Luo Binghe’s arms.

That was nice, wasn’t it? I bet Shishu’s missed that.

Stroking lovingly over Liu Qingge’s still-spasming throat, Luo Binghe fastened a cuff back on. This time, there was extraordinarily little give in the chain, and the back of Liu Qingge’s head was basically flat against the floor.

I also thought you might appreciate a change in scenery.

Luo Binghe let go to float on top. He never went far, hand practically affixed to Liu Qingge’s side then belly like its fullness was a prize. Liu Qingge’s body was still practically paralyzed with pain, but he saw Luo Binghe now for the first time since his feeding.

A hole had been cleanly bitten through Luo Binghe’s robes—and shoulder. Though there was no longer blood, two chunks of flesh were evidently missing from Luo Binghe’s bicep.

Liu Qingge didn’t care that he’d eaten bits of his enemy. He was just pissed that Luo Binghe seemed completely unfazed by it. There were also the faintest traces of blood under Luo Binghe’s nose that he also seemed unfazed by, but at least, Liu Qingge thought with grim pleasure, he’d demonstrated to Luo Binghe the danger of trying to keep pace with a mer underwater. Luo Binghe would hardly be trying that again.

Something flinty slipped into Luo Binghe’s expression.

Like what you see that much?

The things under Liu Qingge’s skin began to wring again, like Liu Qingge’s arteries were wet towels to be squeezed completely dry. Liu Qingge’s throat slammed against metal and the cuff choked off his yell.

That’s not the thanks this Lord wants for feeding you, Liu-shishu.

You starved me in the first—

Liu Qingge’s mental snarl broke off when Luo Binghe pushed on his stomach, the same motion as when Luo Binghe had milked him for his milt before. His tail snapped up, desperate to do damage, but with a brutal squeeze of whatever was inside Liu Qingge, Luo Binghe rendered his most powerful appendage useless in an instant. Luo Binghe even stroked along the scales in appreciative ownership, as if he already had Liu Qingge mounted and displayed on his mantle.

Aren’t you tired already? Won’t Shishu just relax for me?

And no matter how hard Liu Qingge clenched his muscles, the pressure from Luo Binghe’s hand was compounding. All Luo Binghe really had to do now was—

This Lord can help you relax.

—slip his fingers past Liu Qingge’s scales again and rub him open. The eggs of their species were bigger than sperm, so release took more coaxing than last time. That, plus the constant current of pain Luo Binghe was keeping him still with, meant Liu Qingge endured a solid minute of Luo Binghe prying at his entrance, trying to ease him open wide enough for the first egg to come through.

Finally, Luo Binghe leaned back with a frown, hand stilling.

I didn’t intend to chain your tail again, but Liu-shishu can hardly be relied upon to not attack if I release him.

Damn right, Liu Qingge murmured, not sure if he was projecting at all. If Luo Binghe gave him control of his tail back without chaining him down, then yes, he was going to try to break every bone in Luo Binghe’s body no matter what state of breed-readiness he was in. Luo Binghe didn’t get to look at him like that, all chastening and castigating, as if he was the one making both their lives difficult.

Such a shame Liu-shishu refuses to behave better.

A cuff was secured around the base of his tail once more, its chain similarly short. Once Liu Qingge was pretty much laid out flat on the bottom of the tank, the paralyzing pain in his body finally began to ease.

And with it, the tension in Liu Qingge’s abdomen. Unwittingly and almost immediately, the first handful of roe slipped free of Liu Qingge’s body. Luo Binghe’s hand scooped under them like the eager, protective fins of a mate, whisking them gently into a prepared bag pulled from Luo Binghe’s sleeve.

There we go, Luo Binghe whispered, almost to himself. There we go.

His eyes were fervent as he held the bag to Liu Qingge’s slit, and Liu Qingge barely had time to struggle before Luo Binghe was applying pressure again, pushing the roe straight out of him. The sensation was uncanny, pleasure from release but also pleasure for its own sake. It must be a built-in instinct, Liu Qingge reasoned, somewhat frenzied as the odd, undesired pleasure forced itself onto and out of him. It must be instinct making his tail tremble and Luo Binghe pressed his stomach. It must be instinct warming his organs.

When the bag was full, Luo Binghe took a moment to seal it and put it away. His gaze never once left the part of Liu Qingge’s slit though, wider this time than before with eggs still inadvertently slipping out, twos and threes at a time, every time Liu Qingge’s breath hitched. There was still roe inside. Two bites of Luo Binghe’s flesh and a generous drink of his blood had somehow both revived Liu Qingge entirely in energy and packed him to the brim with viable eggs.

With both his hands free now, Luo Binghe flattened both hands against Liu Qingge’s tail, framing Liu Qingge’s opening on either side. His eyes were bright with a mad scientist’s curiosity and something else, something troubled and obsessive and heavy. He pushed once, gently, and watched the roe slip free. He held his thumbs to the edges and pressed them into the muscle, holding Liu Qingge somewhat open for more roe, small and dark orange, almost liquid and almost blood, to drain out in a thin pulse.

I, Liu Qingge vowed, staring up at the light of the surface, will hunt down all the offspring you’ll try to have. I will eat them straight out of the water.

Luo Binghe was silent for a moment, neither moving nor projecting.

Then he laughed, a quiet humorless thing.

You mean like this?

Thumbs pried into Liu Qingge’s slit and worked him open, but then, a third appendage joined them. A hot shot of muscle filled Liu Qingge from wall to wall and Liu Qingge tried to jackknife up, to dislodge the sudden intrusion but the chains kept him sprawled, kept him wide open like a whale fall to be feasted upon by any and every insolent creature who dared to put its mouth on him—

Luo Binghe lapped, then suckled. Luo Binghe sealed his mouth over Liu Qingge’s opening and worked his tongue inside so vigorously that roe kept escaping. Liu Qingge didn’t even have to breathe this time for the roe to flow out, the untrained muscles of his passage so bowled over by Luo Binghe’s assault that they could only let Luo Binghe in, and let the eggs out, and hang open so uselessly that Liu Qingge would sooner grab a rock nearby and plug himself up.

Liu Qingge gouged at Luo Binghe’s scalp but it didn’t stop. Liu Qingge punched and shoved and thrashed but it didn’t stop.

Until finally it did, and Luo Binghe was all of a sudden in his face with sealed lips and a full mouth. And his eyes were bleak and cold as they descended and—

Luo Binghe grabbed a fistful of Liu Qingge’s hair and shoved their mouths together.

Luo Binghe dragged Liu Qingge’s lips apart with his tongue and teeth in a shower of salt and iron. And something was flooding into Liu Qingge’s mouth, something in drips and bits, something almost liquid. They skimmed against the sharp edges of Liu Qingge’s teeth and crumpled. Liu Qingge choked hard on the salt of it all.

Then Luo Binghe was pulling back, laughing. Roe looked like blood smeared against his chin and teeth.

Don’t presume to threaten me, Liu Qingge.

As Luo Binghe got his feet underneath him, his hand found the center of Liu Qingge’s tail one more time. He touched the empty slit there, gaping open, rubbing with too much familiarity.

Next time, he promised, and kicked off for the surface.

The plume of bubbles containing Liu Qingge’s roar chased him all the way up.

#bingliu #like I'm not kidding about the fish content y'all #the nasty thing where fish will chase after a pregnant female all dog-like #mouth-to-exit action #so they can eat the baby fish immediately upon birthing #this isn't quite that but for real there's some roe-eating #my challenge this kinktober is apparently to write something so gnarly y'all will quit me alfskdjnflakblgkjsndlfasd #okay no no it's not....THAT nasty i don't think. i mean. i dunno.#kinktober 2022 #i'm a little hysterical after writing all that ngl so breaktime #but i do wanna continue it #let Binghe fuck him at least #I also really want SJ to show up but at that point it's gonna be full plot #...which could be nice #HMM ANYWAYS #lunch time lkajdnflaksdjf #gonna go get some sushi alksjdaskjfnlakjnsdfknjasdfjalsdf

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gefiltefished · 10 months

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I wanna look at oofa but the process of logging in and doing shit like actually playing the game is far less appealing 😔

#keep thinking about cancelling my sub til 6.5 is out #not like im raiding any more anyway #but then inevitably something will happen and i won't be able to join in that either and the sense of isolation will be Worse #i dunno its probably just not being on my adhd meds/dopamine hit from writing running out again (⁠╥⁠﹏⁠╥⁠)#feelin a lil blue about some things u know?#also sorry to any new followers who found me thru that roe post #i am unfortunately like this a lot i won't take it personally if its not for u

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shittyelfwriter · 2 years

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At long last, Chapter 39 of RoE is now live!

(even though it says 40, there’s a half chapter in there somewhere. I might actually take that out soon, lol.)

It’s finally back after a 4 year hiatus, so come and get it hot off the press!

Elle and Bernard finally head off on their vacation—and who better to kick off the trip with then their dear friend Jacqueline, on an outing to the Toronto Christmas Market?

(A huge thanks to @safyresky who co-authored this chapter with me, literally could not have done it without her at any point! All the Jacqueline + Frosts within is courtesy of her delightful self, as well as the info on the Toronto Christmas Market Oh, did I mention the Frosts make a little cameo? They do. :)

You can find the new chapter here, or start from the beginning if you’re new—or just in the seasonal mood for a refresher. Enjoy!

#IM SO RELIEVED TO HAVE FINALLY UPDATED AHHHHHH #roe things #tsc fanfiction #rules of engagement #ana writes things #bernelle #the santa clause #oc work

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pluviophile-imagines · 2 years

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Yk I used to be like. Way more chill about kid/pregnancy content but now I genuinely get a lil sick when I stumble across it…

#pattering on the roof #since the roe v wade overturning btw #the thought of being pregnant and/or having to raise a child under the age of 13 is genuinely anxiety-inducing to me 😬#this brought to you by me seeing one of those like #listing off names from a million diff fandoms things #that had four options for how many kids these chars want #and none of them were zero #:/#idk bro! feels like shit!#some people are content without children!#some people in fact would be more satisfied without children!#maybe I will. write some comfort…#channel this energy into that

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fractallogic · 2 years

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Also people (other postdoc) are really frustrating today because they’re being VERY indirect with their questions. Like WHY do you want to know whether anyone else was asked to review a paper out of this special issue. Were you feeling combative and thinking you might have been asked to take on additional ~labor~? WHY do you ask me if it’s a good idea to get our class students to attend the events we’re putting on for the ling dept? Is it because you want to inform me that we SHOULD (since you’re citing our PI saying it’s a good idea)? Or are you actually asking me if this thing that would improve our attendance numbers and therefore look better is a thing that we should do… to improve our attendance numbers… and look better..?

Also undergrad, buddy, you KNOW where “the lab” is, which is why I didn’t elaborate further when I said that’s where we should meet today, because you were THERE when PI had us go on a lab tour for one of our lab meetings and when she explained that this space is shared by all of the psycholinguists and their students/lab members, and that’s why when you go to “the lab” for the OTHER PI you work with, you frequently see me working there even though I am not formally a member of other PI’s lab

I have a meeting with this undergrad and a grad student in an hour and I really need to shake off this incredible amount of irritation I’m feeling but oh my god WHY ARE PEOPLE LIKE THIS

#also yes I did watch a half-hour YouTube video where a lawyer analyzed the roe overturnment and the dissenting opinion #and my god are the majority opinionaters just. fucking stupid and appalling #I mean we knew this already.#but god. please make your war on uterus-havers less obvious #I do actually rely on abortion; namely that if all of my birth controls fail that I can terminate this thing that I have NEVER wanted #that I don’t have to do the thing I have nightmares about #and that my partner also doesn’t want!!#like yes he’s said multiple times that he’s very excited to get a vasectomy when he gets to the US as another layer of precaution #but EVERYTHING can fail and sorry I just like to have sex with a partner who can impregnate me #you motherfuckers also RELY ON abortions as a way to keep your affairs quiet and also to not have more children #since all of you opinionaters can still get people pregnant despite being ancient fucking ballsacks of human beings #BULLSHIT no one RELIES ON abortions #fucking. I. fuck #so anyway I have to talk to these kids about goal-setting for writing #hoo boy what a change in mindset I’m going to have to do #also I need to pack a lunch because although I’m not hungry now I will be very mad at the defense if I don’t eat #nnnnngggghhhhhhh everything is bad!!!

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i-used-to-be-a-spy · 2 months

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"Voting is important" and "you don't have to vote for one or the other main genocider candidate" is also true

#im voting third party or write in #and then you bet your ass im voting at local elections bc thats how we change things its what Republicans did to slowly get more power to #overthrow roe v wade

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magnoliasforyourmedic · 20 days

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I guarantee all of the jokes the boys made about him using the morphine on himself hurt Doc’s feelings. Can you imagine giving so much of yourself towards caring for these boys only to be treated like that? I understand they were just joking but it feels like such an insult that they’d even joke about that sort of thing.

#I know it was a very real thing that was going on but like #think of the angst and hurt/comfort opportunities #we need to talk about this more like this feels like such a heartbreaking detail #someone please write this!!!#eugene roe #doc roe needs a hug #band of brothers #magnolias for doc #Drabble #hurt/comfort #angst #whump #I live for angst like whump is my jam

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faithshouseofchaos · 3 months

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OLDER SISTER X LITTLE BROTHER OLLIE! maybe she’s like dating lando or max now and ollie is being a protective little brother

Protective little bear cub — Lando Norris x Bearman!sister!reader ft Ollie Bearman

Inspired by this TikTok 🤣🤣🤣

Tagged— @ashy-kit @astraeaworld @a-casual-romantic @alwayzbeenale @67-angelofthelordme-67 @amatswimming @bblouifford @bbtoni @badassturtle13 @barcelonaloverf1life @charlesf1leclerc @crashingwavesofeuphoria @clowngirlsstuff @dark-night-sky-99 @dudenhaaa27 @eugene-emt-roe @embrosegraves @faithsotherhouseofchaos @f1ln4dr3cl16mv33 @hangmandruigandmav @hollie911 @hrts4scarr @ironcowboycopnickel @jeffs77 @kimiracing07 @lollypop90907 @laura-naruto-fan1998 @lightdragonrayne @moss-on-tmblr @norrisleclercf1 @natailiatulls07 @omgsuperstarg @oconswrld @otako5811 @purplephantomwolf @scotlynaurora @toasttt11 @vellicora @vivwritesfics @venusisnothere

This was hard for me to write 😭😭😭😭😭😭I started it then hated what I had then deleted it then restarted it and I gave up in the end

Ollie stood in the kitchen of your childhood home with a scowl on his face as he watched you and Lando’s being all cuddly across from him. Lando had his arm around your shoulder as you were showing him something. Ollie was a protective little brother so he did everything in his power to be over barring.Ollie shook his head and walked over to where you and Lando’s were.

“Why are you always here?” Ollie asked Lando.

“What do you mean?” Lando asked

“You’re always here, do your parents not like you or something?” Ollie snapped back.

“My parents love me and not always here” Lando says, making a face.

“Oh really ever since winter break has started you have spent all your time here” Ollie adds

“Have I?” Lando asked turning to you

“I don’t think so” you said

“Let me remind you” Ollie said

Time number #1

You and Lando were watching a movie cuddled up on the couch. Neither of you noticed Ollie walk into the living room.

“Whoa whoa make room for Jesus guys as a matter of fact Jesus sent me scoot over” Ollie says sitting in between the two of you.

“Oh stop being a big baby Ollie,” you tell your brother with a roll of your eyes but Ollie wasn’t stopping here. Instead he leaned his body up against yours as a sort of barrier to block your and Lando’s cuddling.

“No thanks, I’ll stay right here,” Ollie says.

“Dude back away stop leaning on me you’re crushing me,” you said, but Ollie ignored you and just stayed put.

Time #2

Your and Lando were in your room studying together for a test that was tomorrow. At first everything was going smoothly, but as the hours passed you couldn’t help but think Ollie was being suspicious. Instead of staying in his room that was located right across the hallway, he was suspiciously hanging out in the hallway directly outside of your room.

“What are you doing in the hallway?” you ask.

“Uh nothing don’t worry about it” he says in a suspicious tone.

You turn your attention back to studying, but a little later Ollie was once again hovering outside your room.

“What are you doing?” you asked, as you looked over and saw Ollie leaning against the doorframe.

“Just checking on things” Ollie says

“Well we’re good so you can leave”

“Alright but I’m watching and the first sign of any funny business I’ll be back” Ollie says before walking away hearing you groan out in frustration

Time #3

This happened after Christmas. You were cuddled up to Lando on your bed just watching a movie. At first everything was fine but then you heard someone clear their throat right near your door.

“I was just checking up on you, you know just making sure everything was OK” Ollie said as a big smirk spread across his face.

“Yeah, we’re fine you can go now” you said, but Ollie stayed put.

Time #4

You and Lando were at home alone together and just messing around and being flirty. You didn’t notice Ollie walk into the room with a mischievous grin on his face until you heard him say something.

“Hey! No cuddling allowed!” Ollie say as he walked in-between you and Lando, breaking up your cuddle.

“Come on Ollie we weren’t doing anything inappropriate” you say, while Lando just gives Ollie a glare and tries to move his body closer to you.

“I don’t care” Ollie said

Time #5

You and Lando were hanging out in your old treehouse in your backyard. You were cuddled up together under a blanket while you were reading your book and Lando was drawing something on a piece of paper.

You both were immersed in your own activities until you heard a voice from down below.

“Whatcha reading?” Ollie yelled up to you.

You ignored Ollie’s question, but that didn’t stop him from climbing up the ladder on the side of the treehouse to come up into the treehouse.

“Hey!” you yell as Ollie enters the treehouse and begins to head towards you.

“You both know how I feel about you guys being all cozy with each other” Ollie says, as he gets closer to the two of you.

“Your being ridiculous” Ollie you say to your brother

“I’m not being ridiculous” Ollie says

“We beg to differ” Lando says

Back to the present

You and Lando looked at each “you know what Ollie you are right Lando and I are always here” you say.

“As a matter of fact y/n do you want to go to my place?” Lando asked.

“As a matter of fact Lando yes yes I would” you said as you and Lando leave.

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mingigoo · 1 year

Note

hi sie!! i'm happy to see that your requests are open and would like to request something myself c: 1. seonghwa 2. roommate au 3. prompts 11 and 17 4. with spice please 🙏 thanks so much! i rly appreciate you and your writing even if you can't get to this 💕

I hope you like this!!! really enjoyed writing this one :)

— sleep-talker || p.sh (m.)

“You know you sleep talk?”

“Stop looking at me like that.

🌊pairing ⇢ (fem) reader x roommate! Seonghwa

🌊 summary ⇢ when you and your friends decide on a trip to the beach for spring break, you get stuck rooming with the man you "hate" the most. The line between love and hate is as thin as ice, and you were about to break it.

🌊 genre/au ⇢ roommates au, vacation au, one bed trope, forced proximity au, smut

🌊 warnings/tags ⇢ 18+ minors DNI, wet dreams, fingering, rough sex, unprotected sex, cream pie, PDA, "enemies" to lovers, one-bed trope, teasing, jealousy, intense tension like holy hell

🌊 word count ⇢ 10.2k words

🌊 taglist ⇢ @jjhmk @yesv01 @roe-sinning @meowmeowminnie @yeritheloml @yukine-smx @y00nzin0 @8tinytings @halesandy @shegotboreddsoo @kangyeosangelic @sanshineeeeee @kodzukein @hwaightme @likexaxdaydream @ssaboala @gtr-skyline-lover @wooyoungjpg @lonewolfjinji @asjkdk @charreddonuts (please let me know if I forgot you!)

masterlist

ateez masterlist

“Are you for real right now?”

Spring break. A time for rest, relaxation, and lots and lots of sex.

And now, your plans of being a whore for the vacation were ruined.

“Yes, y/n. I can't afford another room just for you to have to yourself,” Hongjoong, your older brother, mumbled as he stuffed the last bit of clothes into his luggage. “You’ll have to room with Seonghwa. San and Wooyoung already called each other.”

He zipped up his suitcase and stood up to leave, but he couldn't get off that easily. “Please, Joong. I’ll do anything. Cant I just room with you and Mingi?” he hastily made his way out of his room and into the living room, trying his hardest to get away from you. “I’ll sleep on the floor. No blanket, just the floor. Please.”

He turned to face you, a confused expression on his face. “Why are you so adamant about not staying with Hwa? What did he ever do to you?” he asked you, genuinely curious. The truth is, he did nothing to you personally. Maybe that was why you hated him, because god, if he gave you the time of day, you would pounce on him like a cat in heat.

You groaned, running a hand through your messy, unwashed hair. “Because he’s a dumb ass jerk that gets everything he wants.”

Hongjoong laughed at you and turned away. “It's only a week, y/n. He’ll probably spend most of his time in our room, anyway. Just bring a book to read or something to distract yourself.”

As if reading is the thing you'll be focused on if you were in a room with him. Oh Nah, you'll be wishing he’d walk around shirtless and hoping he somehow takes a shower and walks out with nothing on—

“I hope you're packed and ready….” Joong trailed off as he looked at your messy exterior, and stifled a laugh. “And if you're thinking of getting laid, you might want to shower.”

You slapped him on the shoulder, having no drive to shower. You'll get one when you get there. It's not like you were that stinky.

“Shut up, dickhead.”

You stood on the sidewalk of your apartment building, Hongjoong’s little yellow Geo Tracker sitting there lookin’ all cute. However, the tiny thing only had five seats.

There were six of you.

“Welp looks like I can't go! What a shame, what a shame,” you sarcastically yelled out, tossing your hands in the air exasperatedly. “Have fun without me!”

“Shut your mouth, will you?” Hongjoong groaned, tossing your luggage into the “trunk” or whatever it was. “It's only a ride to the airport. You can sit on someone’s lap for ten minutes.”

You crossed your arms over your chest. “Why am I the one that has to do that? Wooyoung is like the size of my arm. He can do it.”

Joong shut the trunk with force at your comment, totally disregarding you. “Hop in,” he said. “Enjoy shotgun while you have the chance.”

You got in reluctantly, even though you were very excited about the beach itself. Your excitement was short-lived as you approached the devil’s lair.

“Stay here, I’ll go help them,” Hongjoong mumbled, pushing his sunglasses up on his forehead as he put the car in park.

You nodded, your arms crossed over your chest. You didn't mind the rest of the group— San and Wooyoung always knew how to make you laugh, and Mingi was absolutely eye candy. You wouldn't mind sitting on his lap on the way to the airport.

Just as you got comfortable with your head resting against the window, the door abruptly opened, causing you to nearly fall out of the vehicle. “For fuck’s sake, who the hell—” your words got caught in your throat as you met eyes with Park fucking Seonghwa. “Oh, it's you…”

He stood there, his thin torso draped in a sheer white top and his long, lean legs covered in a pair of black pants. You swallowed your drool like a schoolgirl, making sure he never knows how you think of him.

“What?” you raised your eyebrow, not moving an inch and not even reaching to unplug your seatbelt. “This seat’s taken, buddy.”

He snickered, his lips mockingly curled up in a sneer. “Oh, aren't you a sweetheart? Now move, I called shotgun.”

“Well, I did first.”

“No, you didn't.”

“Yes, I did.”

“No.”

“Yes—”

“Neither of you are getting shotgun,” your brother laughed from behind Seonghwa, San and Wooyoung giggling like the goofs they are next to him. You still didn't move, even as Joong approached and unbuckled your seatbelt for you. “Y/N, please help me out here.”

You debated on throwing a fit, but knowing that it would just cause more problems, you sighed and pushed yourself out of the front seat. Now standing on the curb of the sidewalk right in front of Seonghwa, you tilted your head up to look him in the eyes. His gaze was intense—it made you envision what it would be like in bed, looking down at him from above, and how his eyebrows would knit together in pleasure. God, you needed to get laid this vacation, or you were going to be suffering from delusions.

Without warning, Mingi pushed through both of you, interrupting your staring contest.

“We better go, I don't want to listen to their bickering any longer,” the tall boy huffed as he plopped himself in the front seat, a proud smile resting on his lips.

San sat in the backseat on the right, Wooyoung next to him in the middle. That left either you or seonghwa to fight to the death for that last seat, but you knew how this was going to end.

And it wasn't going to end well.

—

“You comfortable, y/n?” your brother called from the driver’s seat, looking back at you through the rearview mirror.

You frowned so deeply you could've sworn your face was permanently stuck like that.

There you were, in the back of the car, in the most uncomfortable seat ever. Seonghwa groaned underneath you, his bony body not offering you any wiggle room. You didn't answer your brother, you were certain your expression was enough of a response.

You adjusted yourself on Seonghwa’s lap, looking out the window for any distraction. As you moved, you felt him move his hips, and you had to shut away your filthy thoughts about him as soon as they came. Between his movements and his groans, your stomach was knotting in something more than butterflies.

The car was filled with conversation, however, you and Seonghwa remained quiet and in your own little worlds. As the others bantered, you pushed yourself up further on his lap, grimacing as you heard him let out a grunt in your ear.

And then when his hands gripped onto your bare thighs, you were the one to gasp.

“Stop moving,” he whispered in your ear with haste, almost like a sneer. You kept your vision forward as his breath danced in your ear. “It hurts.”

You swallowed hard. “Oh? Is your little dick that sensitive?” you whispered back, smirking. You moved again, this time on purpose, feeling his bulge through his pants. You kept your cool, ignoring his shaky breaths from behind you. “Are you that happy to see me, Hwa?”

“Shut your mouth or you won’t see the sunrise,” he hissed, but his voice was weak.

The ten-minute ride felt like an eternity as he breathed underneath you, your mind constantly thinking about how hard he was getting underneath you and how sweet it would be to turn around and face him to see his reaction to you.

You looked to your right, seeing Wooyoung with a knowing smile on his face. “What?” you asked him, raising an eyebrow.

He shrugged, grinning. “Nothing, nothing,” he said, letting out a giggle. “Just that you both seem…cozy.”

You slapped him on the shoulder, your movements causing Seonghwa to wiggle underneath you.

“Dammit, Y/N I told you to stop moving,” he seethed, his grip on your thigh tightening. Hongjoong looked back through the mirror, worry in his expression.

“Everything okay?” he asked, meeting your eyes before focusing on the road once again. “We’re almost there, only about a minute or two.”

“Ten-minute ride my ass,” you mumbled, and as you entered the Airport, you should've known that there were going to be speed bumps on the way in….

The shitty old car hopped over the bump, feeling like it hit a huge boulder. You bounced up, not held by any seatbelt, landing hard, right on Seonghwa’s family jewels.

“Fuck,” he cried, tossing his head back against the headrest. Your hands were now holding onto his legs for dear life.

“Joong, will you slow down for those things? Some of us are suffering back here,” you said, to which seonghwa started laughing.

“You're telling me.” he scoffed.

“Okay okay, I just have to park. I have no idea how this works….where the hell is the long-term parking—”

“Probably over there,” Mingi pointed in the opposite direction.

“No, no, I think it’s—”

“I can't take this anymore!” you cried out, leaning forward to assist Hongjoong since Mingi isn't helping. “There's a huge sign in front of us. How can you miss that? It spells it out, dammit.” you huffed, throwing yourself back into your “seat.” This time, he didn't let out a single groan, probably just as fed up with you as you were with him.

Finally, Hongjoong found the lot and parked the car, and as soon as it was stationary, you tossed yourself out of the vehicle like there was no tomorrow. You knew that you couldn't last a minute more on his lap, because if you did, you would be so tempted to turn around and make out with those painfully pretty lips of his. God, he made you so mad. Ever since you met him, there were only the same thoughts circulating round and round.

Dirty thoughts.

Seonghwa crawled out of the car like a decrepit old spider, his long legs holding up his body with grace. You bit your lip, looking down at where you were sitting on him. Quickly, you looked away as he noticed your gaze, and ran away to go help the others with the luggage.

You weren't quick enough to miss the achingly attractive smirk on Seonghwa’s face.

Why did he have to be so….. libidinous? He was like a wild animal, able to take the lives away of his prey with just an expression.

No more seonghwa on the brain—it was beach time. You were certain you could find someone at a bar to sleep with later, and it wouldn't be Hwa.

Not now, not ever.

—

You got lucky with the plane ride.

Your seat buddy was Mingi, and Hongjoong knew how much you like your window seats.

Mingi nearly slept the whole flight, his head rested against your shoulder. He snored a little, but it didn't matter. The gentle giant had a place in your heart, so he could do no wrong.

You often stole glances at Seonghwa across the aisle, his head bobbing up and down as he fought his tiredness. He was so much more likable when he was sleeping, but that was definitely due to the fact that he couldn't stare at you with those entrancing eyes or run that mouth of his.

You were the only one awake by the end of the flight. It was difficult for you to sleep in public places. It didn't feel right. So you would fight off sleep as hard as you could and distract yourself with anything around you.

After the fiasco of leaving the plane, you anxiously trailed behind Hongjoong through the busy airport, pushing past loads of people who had places to be. Thank goodness you were able to leave the airport without a fuss, even if seonghwa was nearly breathing down your neck as you exited.

Luckily, the ride to the hotel wasn't far—and there were more than enough seats for all of you. You distanced yourself from Seonghwa, ignoring his hellish gaze.

The hotel you were staying at stood tall, facing the gorgeous blue ocean for a perfect view. You shut your eyes as you took everything in, smelling the saltiness and the warmth of the air. You smiled to yourself, but your delightful moment didn't last long.

Seonghwa bumped into you purposely, digging his shoulder into yours before walking past you toward the hotel entrance. “Hey, what was that for?” you growled, a scowl on your face.

“You were in the way,” is all he said, not even bothering to turn to face you as he spoke. He continued walking, his beautiful silhouette showing through his sheer shirt. Oh, you wanted to tear it off of him so badly.

You let out a huff of air, but then followed your friends into the building, knowing the end was near if you had to share the room with your snack of choice.

Hongjoong went up to the front desk as you and the boys stood near the doorway, waiting for him to check us in. It didn't take him long, and soon enough, he was walking back over, key cards in his hand, and a bright smile on his face. “All checked in! This’ll be our home for the next week.”

San grabbed his key card first. “Are we all on the same floor? Like in a row? It would be no fun if I had to actually put on clothes to go on the elevator.”

“Yes, San, we’re all on the same floor.” Hongjoong held in his laugh, already clearly enjoying his time away from reality. You stood angrily with your arms across your chest next to seonghwa, who didn't look any happier than you. “And will you two brighten up? You’re killing the vibe.”

You rolled your eyes, glancing up at the boy next to you. His dark hair was slightly frizzy from the humidity, sticking to his forehead like it would if he were sweating. You gulped, thinking dirty thoughts once more before regaining your peace of mind. “I’m not doing anything. It’s all him.”

“No, it’s all you, not me.” he retaliated.

“You’re the one that got a hard-on from me just innocently sitting on your lap.”

“You were purposely shoving your ass on me like a freak—”

“You are ruining the vacation already—”

“Annnd we’re not doing this again,” Mingi sighed and then gripped onto your arm to pull you towards the elevator.

“Let’s go, we got bars to get wrecked at.”

—

“Oh, hell no.”

You dropped your luggage as you entered your room for the week, staring at what was in it.

Or lack thereof.

One bed—a queen, maybe, sat in the middle of the room. A chair was tilted by the sliding glass doors that opened to the balcony, and a lamp stood in the corner. It was cute, of course, but you thought this couldn't get any worse.

Seonghwa walked past you into the room, setting his suitcase on the floor by the chair. “Don't worry,” he hummed, his voice low. “I’ll sleep on the floor.”

“I–” you paused, taking in a breath before continuing. “You can sleep on the bed, I ain't that mean.”

“So you think I’m going to let my best friend’s sister sleep on the floor?” he laughed, but it wasn't out of humor. “That’s funny. I’d get my ass beat.” He sat down on the floor, stretching out his long legs before opening his suitcase. “Just forget about me like you usually do and take the bed.”

You had no snarky remarks to throw at him this time, your eyelids feeling heavier than ever. You sighed, sitting down on the bed with a thud. “Okay, fine. Wake me up when we are going to leave.”

“Yeah yeah,” he snarkily replied, too focused on his luggage in front of him. You shut your eyes slowly, holding on to your consciousness a little longer, before drifting off into a sleep that would cause an unexpected uproar a few hours later.

—

After your amazing nap, you and the boys found your way to a beach bar, sand filling the floor and loud music playing in the background. You took your rightful spot at the bar, sitting right next to Wooyoung, who was already chugging a fruity margarita.

“You should try this, Y/N,” he let out a satisfied sigh after he finished his gulp. “Tastes like fucking unicorns and rainbows.”

You laughed. “Sounds divine, but I’ll pass and get my whiskey sour.”

He grimaced. “Ew, you should spruce it up a little bit sometimes.”

San sat down on the other side of him, a fancy glass in his hands as well. “Yeah, you’re kind of a bore.”

“San what the—”

“She is, isn't she?” Seonghwa hummed from behind you, and of course, sat his ass in the chair right next to you. You groaned, ignoring him once again, although it was quite hard to not drool as he gulped his beer, his throat bobbing as he drank it.

Fucking hell.

You looked around for any sign of your brother to save you, and once you saw him, you cringed, turning right back around to face the bar. “Dear god, can't he keep his dick in his pants for five minutes?” you shivered, trying to think of anything else other than your brother making out with a random person.

Seonghwa looked back, a smirk on his face as you ordered your drink. “Hypocrite. Just last week I walked in on you with Mingi in the chem lab,” he snickered, his midnight eyes catching the neon lights behind the bar. “Your tongue was so far down his throat I swear I—”

“Says the guy who I caught watching porn freshman year in the computer lab—”

“Here’s your Whiskey sour,” the bartender awkwardly interrupted, but thank god he did. You quickly chugged it, finishing it within a minute of getting it. He gave you another right away, and you downed that one as quickly as it came. He was cute, a little on the scruffy side, but definitely a good one-night. You gave him a look, feeling accomplished as he smirked a little before serving someone else.

“Maybe you shouldn't drink so fast, y/n,” San murmured from Wooyoung’s side, his strong arms holding his weight against the table. “You get drunk really quick on an empty stomach. Remember what happened last time? You have a bad habit of trying to kiss everything you see.”

You furrowed your eyebrows, setting the empty glass down on the bar. As you did that, you felt the warmth of the alcohol fill your body. “What? Who did I kiss?”

Seonghwa laughed from the other side of you while you focused on San.

“Me.” San blinked. “Tongue and all. But not just me, you kissed the statue outside our campus. You know, that really rusty one?”

You gagged. “Ew, no. stop. No, I didn't.”

“Oh, yes you did,” Seongwha piped in, sipping on his third or fourth beer. “And then you threw up on my shoes when I brought you home.”

You let out an exaggerated sigh of relief, taking his beer right out of his hands. “Phew, thank god I didn't kiss you,” you shivered, bringing the bottle up to your lips. After you started chugging it a little bit, Hwa ripped the bottle away from you.

You felt your vision start to sway from the alcohol. You loved the feeling of being drunk—just hated the hangovers. Right now though, you wanted to get wasted and go home with a stranger. The hangover will be tomorrow’s problem.

But seonghwa had to just run his mouth once again.

“You know you talk in your sleep, right?” He laughed, a full, humorous laugh. He tossed the bottle to the back of his throat and then continued to laugh at you. “Something about how awful the airplane food was and how drinking milk reminds you of cum.” he grimaced at the last part, but a playful smile still rested on his face. “God you are explicit.”

Your cheeks flushed, looking anywhere but his direction. “I do not sleeptalk.”

You looked to Wooyoung and San for help, but they looked dumbfounded. “I wouldn't know, y/n, I never slept with you,” San smirked, smiling deviously at you. “Unless you’re down with that, I’m all for hearing you sleeptalk in my ear all night.”

“Yeah, me too,” Woo played along, knowing he was just doing it to tease you. Seonghwa, on the other hand, was trying desperately to embarrass you in front of the hot bartender.

“God, it’s so annoying, I wanted to rip my hair out earlier,” he smiled devilishly, his teeth even brighter than normal under all the neon lights. “I thought I couldn't hate you more, but you proved me wrong.”

You looked straight ahead, ignoring Seonghwa’s goofy smile. “Whatever,” you huffed, resting your face on your hand, your elbow holding up the weight. You watched the sexy bartender notice your stare. He smiled and walked over to you.

“Need another sour?” he asked, his cheeks pinched with dimples. You had your eyes set on going home with him, and you were going to follow through with it. Seonghwa can stay outside for the night—or watch, it didn't matter to you.

“Actually,” you pondered, blinking slowly as the alcohol hit your system even harder. “I’ll take a vodka and Sprite. Grey Goose.” you hummed, watching him nod with a smirk on his face.

Seonghwa chuckled, but you were too focused on your mission to hear him blab about how much he hated you over and over again. Soon enough, that damn grey goose hit you harder than anything. Your eyes fluttered after your second glass, your vision fuzzy, and your heartbeat racing.

You let out a heavy sigh, unable to remember your original mission.

“Hey,” you coughed, your cheeks burning up from the toxin. You looked around the bar, only meeting Seonghwa’s eyes…..oh…they’re so pretty. “Where did everyone else go?”

He was facing you, looking at you through those sparkling irises of his. He took in a breath, crossing his arms over his chest. “Well, your brother left with that girl he was making out with earlier….San and Woo left not too long ago to go to another bar, and Mingi….” he paused, watching your expression change when mingi was mentioned. “Mingi went with them.”

“Ah,” you nodded. “Why’d you stop at mingi like that?”

He furrowed his brows. “Why’d you look like that when I mentioned him?”

You sniffled, feeling a burning sensation in your throat from all the vodka. “What do you mean?” you were too messed up to defend yourself. You didn't even know your expression changed.

“You looked…different when I said his name.”

You couldn't help but laugh at his dreary tone. “Pfft. Hwa, do you think that just because I slept with him once that I have feelings for him?”

He frowned, his eyebrows knit with confusion. “You slept with him? Mingi?”

You shrugged. “Yeah. Just once, though.” Oh god, you officially couldn't think straight. Why were you even telling him this? “But that was it.”

He looked at you with an unknown expression, flattening his lips. “So you just sleep with anyone, huh?”

You scoffed. “Well, no, not usually.” you bit your lip, looking at him without knowing how you were looking at him. “I kind of always wanted you, but I didn’t understand why, so I ignore the feeling by sleeping with other guys.”

“That makes no sense, y/n,” he spat. “What are you saying?”

You rolled your eyes, drunkenly gripping his broad shoulders, shaking him slightly. “Awh, shut it, Hwa. Haven't you ever felt that before?” you paused, not realizing how close you were. His eyes were sharp, and his lips parted. “Wanting someone you can't have? Knowing that they wouldn't want anything to do with you?”

He swallowed hard, his gaze piercing into you sharply. “You’re drunk, y/n,” he paused, looking at you intently before shaking your hands away. “Let’s go back to the hotel.”

“Oooh, don't tempt me, baby,” you poked his chest, giggling as he stood up off the barstool. You were completely oblivious to the fact that you just admitted to wanting him, but it didn't seem like he took it seriously.

“Get up,” he huffed, gripping under your arms and lifting you off your chair. You groaned, wrapping your arms around his waist. You held onto him tightly as he reached into his back pocket to grab money, tossing it onto the counter with a glare at the bartender.

“Enjoy your night,” Seonghwa growled, holding onto you, and made his way towards the hotel with you clung to him.

“Seonghwa,” you whispered, a giggle under your breath.

He grunted, pulling you along with him. “What?”

You sniffed. “Can I kiss you?”

He sighed. “No.”

“Why?” you mumbled, shoving your face into his chest.

“Because it’s your drunk habit.”

“So would you kiss me if it wasn't?” you asked, completely obliterated. There was no way you were going to remember this in the morning.

He didn't answer you.

“Come on, Hwa,” you moaned, stopping and gripping onto his collar in front of the hotel. You looked up into his eyes, feeling his intense gaze cut right through your intoxication. You needed him. Needed him bad. “Just once. God, just once.”

“I…” he swallowed, his hands twitching at his sides, crying out to touch you. He kept them away, even if he didn't want to. “Not now. Not while you’re drunk.”

You blinked slowly, watching his lips flatten into a frown. “Does that mean you want to?”

He sighed, running his hands through his hair aggressively. “Please just….let’s get back to the room and get you to bed.”

You groaned, but complied, following him into the hotel and into the elevator. The ride was silent, Seonghwa standing in the corner, farthest away from you, his breathing slowed. You stared at him, leaning up against the wall.

“I really hate you,” you mumbled, glaring at him. He was too sexy, his hair messy, his eyes dark, his long legs taller than a skyscraper. You only admitted your attraction to him when you were drunk, but you couldn't deny the pull you had to him.

He looked up at you, his starry eyes looking from your legs, up to your hips, over your breasts, and finally to your eyes. He took in a sharp breath, biting the corner of his lip.

“I hate you too,” he whispered, his vision low.

And in what world would the words I hate you cause someone’s heart to flutter?

The elevator dinged at your floor, and after a moment of longing stares, Seonghwa gripped your arm and dragged you out. He held onto your drunken body as he searched for his keycard, and once he found it, you tumbled into the room together.

Your back was pressed against the wall, his arms caging you in on both sides. His forehead was on yours, and you were able to feel his hot breath against your lips.

“Oh,” you hummed, your hands subconsciously dancing at the hem of his t-shirt. You watched his throat bob anxiously as you looked into his eyes.

It took everything in him to move away. He coughed awkwardly and then nodded toward the bed. “Come on, you need to rest.”

“Mhm,” you murmured, unable to move in a straight line. You kicked off your sandals, and pulled off your shirt with ease, leaving you only in your bra and that skimpy skirt seonghwa was looking at all night.

He watched as you walked, holding his breath without meaning to.

As you neared the bed, you reached back to unclip your bra, but you couldn't reach it. “Hwa?”

He was looking at the floor. “Hm?”

“Can you…” you paused, giving up on trying to get it off. “Take this off of me? It’s really uncomfortable.”

He blinked, his eyes wide. You couldn't see the confusion in his expression, but you heard the shakiness of his tone. “W-what? Your….bra?”

“Yeah.”

He didn't say anything else. He slowly walked over to where you were, and as his fingertips traced the middle of your back, you shivered under his touch.

He unclasped the hook, but held on to both ends of the bra, afraid to let it drop. “It’s done,” he whispered, backing up slightly.

You dropped the bra onto the floor and then reached to take off your skirt. As you slid it down your hips, you heard seonghwa nearly trip over his feet trying to turn away.

“Do you…always sleep naked?” he asked you, looking anywhere but where you were. You were way too drunk to care about what he sees, but you were also too tired to try. You fell onto the bed, your arm covering your breasts and your underwear still on.

“Fuck, y/n,” Seonghwa huffed, finally looking over and doing everything to not look where he shouldn't. He gently reached for the blanket, tossing it over you in one swift motion.

You shut your eyes tight, feeling his presence loom over you. He brushed away the stray hairs on your face and made sure you were laying on your side.

“.... I’m so screwed,” he muttered, giving you one last look before walking into the bathroom and turning on the cold water.

A cold shower, especially knowing that there was a beautiful, nearly naked girl in the bed just outside the door.

The cold water ran down his body, giving him a rush of pain.

“Fuck,” he hissed, biting his lip as his attraction to you only worsened.

—

After his attempt to cleanse his messy thoughts, Seonghwa stepped out of the bathroom, towel hanging low on his hips. He hesitated before looking over at you, and after he got a good look at your pretty face, he made his way to his luggage, rooting in there for a t-shirt to toss on.

“...seong…hwa,” you moaned.

Moaned.

“....y/n?” he whispered, maybe thinking you were awake and needed something. He didn't want to jump to conclusions, but that sounded too….sensual than just a normal tone.

“I…ugh,” you groaned, “don't stop, please. H…Hwa.”

Seonghwa raised his eyebrows, dropping the clothes he had in his hands, eyes wide.

“Seonghwa….”

Okay, that was the third time. You were most definitely dreaming about him….

“Oh…my…god.” Hwa gulped, cautiously standing up and backing away as far as he could from you.

Little did he know how detailed your dream was.

—

His hands snaked up your bare hips, your legs wrapped around his waist. His lips were on your ear, biting, teeth clashing against your skin.

He thrusted into you, hard, his hips buckling as he moaned. You cried out his name, back arching, nails scratching. He fucked you hard, his forehead against yours, and his eyes rolled back into his head.

“You like that?” he whispered, his tongue sliding into your mouth before you could answer. His sweat fell on your cheek, and you moaned out his name once more. You weren't sure how you got here, how this came about, or anything. All that mattered was that you were finally with him, the man you always thought you hated.

“…hwa,” you moaned, “fuck me harder.”

And as he slammed into you with even more force than before, his lips crashed onto yours, his black hair blocking your vision. You wanted more, and more and more—

“Y/n,”

“Just shut up and keep going,” you cried out.

“Y/N!”

You shot awake, gasping for air as your back hit the headboard. You breathed heavily, realizing that you were dreaming about all of that and that the real seonghwa was standing in front of you, shirtless, with an expression you weren't quite sure you’d ever seen before.

“Seonghwa, what—”

“S..stop it. Don't say my name,” he stuttered, looking anywhere but your body. He quickly tossed a t-shirt at you—his t-shirt. “Just put this on. The guys are down getting breakfast, so we gotta go.”

He quickly walked to his own luggage and grabbed a shirt for himself. You watched him as he tossed it on and slid on his shoes, and with one last awkward glance at you, he left the room in haste.

You were too scared to look down, hoping that you still had underwear on. You weren't too sure if that was a dream or not, but given the way he acted, it made you even more confused.

You felt the wetness between your thighs, clenching them with a sigh. You stood up, tossing on the bra that was laying on the floor as if it was thrown off of you.

After cleaning yourself up a bit, you made your way to the breakfast area on the first floor, immediately noticed by Hongjoong. “There you are! I was worried you weren't going to—” he stopped, noticing the shirt that was way too big on you. “That’s the shirt I got Hwa….”

Seonghwa cleared his throat, shoving a bagel into his mouth to distract himself.

You ignored him and sat down across from him and next to Mingi. You looked up, meeting eyes with the man you thought so filthily about, seeing a swipe of cream cheese on the bottom of his lip. You held back, knowing that it’ll just send you into another spiral if you pointed it out.

But when he stuck his tongue out to lick it off, you felt the tingle in your stomach once more, thinking back at the dream you had, and how his tongue caressed you in more ways than one.

He met eyes with you, his lips parting slightly. His gaze was much different than it ever has been. You've never seen him so….lost. His expression was conflicted, his eyes not leaving your lips.

Wooyoung smirked. “Did you guys fuck or something? What’s with the mood?”

“Wooyoung!” Hongjoong yelled.

“What? I’m just pointing out the obvious,” he shrugged.

“We didn't. Keep dreaming,” Seonghwa muttered lowly, taking another bite of his bagel.

Hongjoong huffed. “I don't want to imagine my sister and seonghwa in that way…that’s super weird.”

“Why?” seonghwa questioned, his tone serious. You looked at him, confused as to why he cared. It seemed like everyone else was just as confused as you. “Ahem, I mean…uh, is it that hard to imagine?” Seonghwa’s voice was shaky, his gaze hopping from Hongjoong to you.

It made your brother laugh. “Well, yeah. You guys hate each other, right?” he took a sip of his coffee before continuing. “It makes no sense for you to even see eye to eye, I couldn't imagine you two in any type of relationship. Maybe her and Mingi, out of everyone.”

Seonghwa dropped his bagel face down onto his plate. “Why Mingi? What’s so special about—”

“I’m right here guys….” Mingi tried to interrupt, but Seonghwa shot him a dangerous glare, causing the gentle giant to hold his tongue.

Hongjoong looked around at the boys awkwardly and picked up his fork to continue eating his eggs. “I’m just saying.”

This was too awkward. You kept stealing glances at Hwa as if he were a magnet. You assumed he felt similarly, because every time you looked, your eyes would meet, and then you would awkwardly stare for a moment too long before looking away.

And when he got up to get more food, you got up, too.

“We need to talk,” you whispered, coming right up next to him as he put a muffin on his plate. “Why are you acting weird?”

He sighed and continued to add food to his plate. “I’m not acting weird.”

As he moved to get a drink from the drink machine, you continued to follow him. “Did I do something wrong yesterday?” you gasped, holding a hand over your mouth as he still ignored you. “Did I kiss you? Dear god, I hope not—”

“No, you didn't,” he said quietly, walking back over to the table.

“Something must have happened, seonghwa—”

He stopped, nearly causing you to bump into his back. “Don't.” he paused, taking in a sharp breath, looking over his shoulder at you. “Don't say my name.”

You frowned in confusion, watching the muscles in his back move as he walked away. You couldn't remember your antics yesterday, but maybe you made him uncomfortable by sleeping nearly naked—he hated you, so you could only imagine how irritated he was.

“Listen, if it was because I was naked, I'm sorry—”

Everyone at the table looked up as you spoke, including seonghwa. He looked shy, a blush on his cheeks, and he sat down quickly and stuffed the muffin in his mouth.

“Naked?” Mingi laughed, looking from you to seonghwa suggestively. “Sounds awfully smutty, Seonghwa.”

“We didn't—” he groaned, running a hand down his face. “Nothing happened with us.”

“Mhm, okay,” San smirked. “Whatever you say. Anyway, we have a whole day out planned, so you two better get back to your normal selves or we won't have any fun.”

You really needed to talk to seonghwa, but it seemed like you'll be busy the whole day with the boys—and he didn't seem to be very interested in talking to you, anyway.

You tilted your head in curiosity.

“What are we doing?”

—

The day was eventful.

First, you went to the beach. Seemed innocent, until Seonghwa took off his shirt and got all soaking wet, sending you in a mess of thoughts and a mess below. He would look over at you, and wouldn't look away, paying intense attention to your body in a skimpy little bikini.

When you went to talk to him, he body-slammed you into the ocean, and normally you would've fumed, but this time, you enjoyed his hands on your bare skin.

After the beach, you walked along the boardwalk of shops and lots of food. You grabbed a popsicle, licking it without a thought, but when you felt an intense pressure on you, you looked over to see seonghwa looking at you with an expression you've never seen on him. His eyes were focused on your lips, his own lips curled up as he bit them. You continued to eat your popsicle, but couldn't stop looking at him.

When you tried to bring up last night, Hongjoong came over and took the rest of your pop, running away from you like a child.

At dinner, you sat at the far end of the table, as far away as possible from Seonghwa. It wasn't intended, but now there was no way you could talk, as everyone would hear your conversation.

You ate, feeling defeated. Maybe you should just forget about it.

It was still daylight after dinner. As the guys conversed about what to do next, San and Wooyoung decided to go their own way and walk the beach, which was just their code word for “shopping” for girls. Hongjoong agreed with them, shocking you since he was always hell-bent on not going off a schedule. You assumed he was just going to meet that girl he was with yesterday, but whatever, it just meant that you could be left alone with Seonghwa.

After those three left, it was only you, Seonghwa, and Mingi. Hwa stood with his hands in his pockets, awkwardly looking around as you stood outside the restaurant. Mingi was even more awkward, looking at you before speaking.

“Um, I’m just gonna go with Woo and San, so,” he breathed, looking to seonghwa now. “I’ll see you guys back at the hotel tonight.”

“Okay, Mingi,” you smiled. “See you later.”

You watched him leave and then looked at the boy standing next to you.

“So,” you tried to initiate conversation, but seonghwa started walking in the opposite direction from where everyone else went. You followed. “What should we do?”

“I’m going surfing,” he said blandly. “I don't know about you, though.”

“I’ll come with you,” you smiled, finally catching up to him. He let out an aggravated groan as you walked close to him. “Do you even know how to surf?”

He scoffed. “Yeah, of course, I do.”

“I’m just saying,” you noted, shrugging as you followed him. “You’re too….dainty. I feel like if you fell off you’d break every bone in your body.”

Seonghwa didn't react in any way you were hoping he would. Instead, he kept walking silently, until you reached the part of the beach where the surf shack was. Wetsuits were laid out, ready to be picked up, and surfboards stood tall through the sand and against the building. You stared in awe as you approached, seeing that there was no one else here but you two.

Finally, alone at last.

“Grab a suit if you’re gonna do this,” he pointed to them, raising an eyebrow when you stood there anxiously. “What? Don't you know how to surf?” he mocked.

You kicked at the sand, your hands behind your back. “Pff. yeah, of course, I….no. I don't.” you pleaded with your eyes sweetly, despite all of the dirty things you wanted to do to him. “Could you please teach me? Pretty please?”

He held his own suit close to his chest as he looked down at you. “Why should I?”

You stepped closer to him, causing him to step back cautiously. “Because I’m pretty?”

“Oh honey, who lied to you?” he joked.

“Please, Seonghwa?” you stressed his name, hoping to break him. You watched his eye twitch as you said it, reminding you of earlier when he told you not to say his name.

“Seonghwa seonghwa seonghwa seong—”

“Okay, fine! Jeez,” he huffed, tossing you a suit, only for it to hit you in the face. “Get dressed.”

You walked into the shack with him, going your separate ways at the locker rooms. Everything went smoothly until you tried to zipper the suit up, only being able to get it halfway. You pondered on asking seonghwa for help or completely turning into a contortionist, but after failing to do it yourself, you gave up and left the room to ask him.

Seonghwa stood amongst the surfboards, his lean body looking delicious in that surf suit. You nearly drooled looking at him.

“Hey,” you started, slowly approaching him as he picked out a board. “Can you help me zipper this?”

He turned to you, his expression conflicted as he saw you. You turned around, showing your exposed back, causing him to clear his throat. “O..okay.”

His delicate fingers brushed against the skin of your back, nearly causing you to shiver. You felt his breath hit the back of your neck as the zipper moved up and up until he zipped it completely.

“....There,” he said, swallowing. “You’re all good.”

He didn't move his hands until you pulled away from him, turning back around to face him. The silence was deafening, so you decided to break it.

“Seonghwa, about last night, what exactly happened—”

“Let’s just get started before the sun goes down,” he interrupted, looking anywhere but your eyes. “We’ll talk later.”

That was good enough for now. You watched him try to pick out a board, but he seemed extremely nervous. After a good bit of time, he grabbed a pink one, causing you to smile. Pink suited him so much, more than he’d probably like to admit.

“Let’s start with some basics,” he spoke smoothly, tossing the board down onto the sand. “Get on it. On your stomach.”

You lay down on the board, looking up at him for more directions. He taught you how to paddle with your arms, explaining that you'll have to dive under the waves sometimes if you were okay with doing that. You couldn't look weak now, especially not to him. So after the little training lesson, you were finally in the shallow water, sand already in every nook and cranny of you.

“Try to keep balance,” he said, his voice raspy. It wasn't the time to turn you on, but of course, he could do it just by his voice. “Keep your chest up.” his hand caressed your back, down your spine.

You looked up at him, his wet hair dripping down his face. You held back, as much as you could, from pouncing on him.

But when you fell off the board and got stuck underwater, you’ve never seen him so concerned before.

He grabbed you under your arms, pulling you back up and holding him to you while you coughed. You were perfectly fine—maybe a little too much water in the ears, but it was the least of your worries. What you cared about was the look on his face and the way he caged you to his body.

“y/n?” he rushed his hand over your face, pushing away your drenched hair so he could see you. “Are you okay?”

You coughed, blinking away the salt that infiltrated your eyes. Seonghwa noticed your distress and gently rubbed your face with the pad of his thumb.

“Don't rub your eyes,” he pushed your hand away, still not letting you go from his embrace. “You'll make it worse.”

“It hurts,” you mumbled, causing his look of worry to worsen. True, the salt started burning your eyes, but you couldn't get enough of his caring touch—maybe because he’s never shown this side of himself to you.

He took in an anxious breath as he looked around. “Maybe we should get back to the hotel,” he spoke softly, the sound of water filling your senses as you looked at him.

Everything about his appearance aggravated you—from the way his midnight hair draped his face, dripping with water down his cheeks, to the way his normally judgemental eyes seemed gentle and sweet. He looked kind, the type of man who would worship his lover like a queen, and all the time knowing him, you tried your hardest to only see him in a negative light.

Now, as he held you in the cold, sparkling ocean as the sun was setting, all you saw was your reflection in his eyes and all you felt was the undeniable pull to be with him. To touch him. To kiss him. To tell him that maybe, just maybe, you’ve always had a piece of him in your heart.

“Seonghwa, I…” you paused, ignoring the burn from the salt water. You watched his lips as they slowly parted, his eyes wide as he picked you apart. They looked at you differently, like they never looked at you before, and you wanted him to never stop looking at you.

The distance between the two of you was nonexistent—you saw every drop of water on his skin, and you were certain he was able to gather the meaning behind your gaze. If he did, he didn't say anything—he only looked back at you with those entrancing irises of his, a look you’ve never seen from him. He waited patiently for you to finish your sentence, but you had nothing else to say.

As your lips neared his, you heard his breath get caught in his throat, and you felt his embrace tighten around you. You closed your eyes, taking in the feeling, hoping that he would be the one to lean in and meet your lips.

He didn't.

Instead, his hands trailed down your back, the pink surfboard still floating next to you despite being forgotten. His breath was shaky as he touched you, but the moment ended too quickly as he shook himself out of his trance.

“I um, we should, you know,” he nodded towards the beach, even though you weren't too far out. “We should get back to the room.”

You slowly blinked at him, watching his expression stay the same despite the change of mind. He coughed, letting go of you, but then he grabbed your hand and the board before pulling you to shore.

The walk back was quiet. He didn't let go of your hand until you got back to the surf shack, and he reluctantly let go knowing you had to change.

You both were silent as you looked at each other, but the ache in your chest convinced you to break this tension.

Before you entered the changing room, you quickly turned back around to face seonghwa, who still stood with that….sex-charged expression on his face.

“….Stop looking at me like that,” you hummed, your chest heavy as he breathed in deeply. He looked at you with those bedroom eyes of his, half of his wetsuit already off. He looked deadly, which didn't help your desire.

He swallowed hard but tried his best to remain calm. “Like what?”

You took a step closer, reaching back to your zipper to pull it down just a little. You shrugged it down your bare shoulders, making sure he got to know that there was nothing else but you under that wetsuit once again.

And when you got as close as you could, you said the words you knew would be life or death for him.

“Like you want to fuck me,” you shrugged, acting all cool even though you were falling apart by the second. You were lucky you were at the surf shack at such a late time of day, and that no one else was here except you.

He choked on air, stepping away from you until his back hit the wall. You noticed how his chest rose and fell as he breathed in, and how delicious it would be to just lick him all over….

“I…” he gulped, but his eyes lingered on your shoulders and the curve of your breasts. “I don't know what you mean?”

You smiled through your haze, mind focused on getting to the bottom of his sudden change of attitude towards you. You reached out, gently guiding your hand down the plain of his chest, down his slim, but muscular waist. Oh, you couldn't get enough of him already.

You smirked. “Then tell me why you’ve been eye fucking me all day, or at least what happened last night, so I can understand.”

He blinked fast, looking from your lips, down your neck, to your bare shoulders.

“You…” he took in a sharp breath as your hands trailed down his body. “You sleeptalk.”

“I know that already,” you whispered, looking into his captivating gaze.

He leaned forward slightly, veins popping in his neck as he strained against his judgment. “I mean, you…kept moaning my name. I…I couldn't take it anymore….I can't take it anymore. Every time you speak I just want to fucking shut you up with my mouth for fucks sake.” he huffed, subconsciously gripping your hips as he grits his teeth. “You so annoying, so damn annoying, I can't—”

“Then take me,” you spoke against his lips. “Fuck me. Just like you did in my dreams.”

His forehead pressed against yours as you pushed him further against the wall.

“And how did I do that?” he growled, his fingertips tugging at your wetsuit. “Was I rough? Gentle?” he paused, lips pressed to your neck. “Did I make you say my name, or was that all you with that filthy little mouth of yours?”

You couldn't speak as his lips glided down your neck to your collarbone. He sucked on the skin there, roughly, causing you to suck in a sharp breath and run your hands through his dripping-wet hair.

You moaned, biting his earlobe. “I want you to tear me apart.”

He smirked against your skin, his eyes finally meeting yours.

“Rough it is, then.”

Without warning, he bit his lip hard as he pulled your wetsuit right down to your ankles, the water from his hair dripping onto your bare shoulders. He nearly growled as you stood in front of him, naked as ever, his gaze darkening before gripping the back of your neck to pull you to him.

As he sucked on your neck, you pulled down his suit with aggression, not quick enough for the hunger in both of your souls. His hot breath tickled your skin, his hands clawed at your hips, and his lips begged to kiss yours as you shoved him against the wall once again, skin on skin. He breathed heavily, his eyes dancing from your breasts to your waist, to your lips.

You gripped onto his hair, staring into his eyes for a moment before you locked your lips with his, tasting the saltiness of the ocean and the sweet warmth of his saliva. Your tongues fought for their lives, dancing as you deepened the kiss. Foreheads slamming, hands invading space. It was all over for your sanity the minute his long fingers glided against your core, his middle finger finding your clit and rubbing gently. His kisses were rough as his fingers delicately touched you, fueling the fire within you even more than it already was.

“Seonghwa,” you moaned against his ear, causing him to move his hand faster with a grunt. “Push them in me.”

He hissed, his eyes rolling back into his head as he pulled his hands away for a moment, only to suck his fingers in front of you before shoving them into you, curling them up inside you. You arched your back against him, crying out as his lips found yours once again.

He kissed you deeply as he made love to you with his hands, his fingers long enough to reach deep inside of you—but it wasn't enough. You bit his lip sharply as he fingered you, causing him to hiss in pleasure. “I need your cock in me. Now.” you licked his jawline, watching him squirm in your embrace.

His cheeks were flushed red as he looked at you, his eyes looking as if he were intoxicated. “I…fuck,” he sucked in a breath, kissing you as his fingers moved faster and faster. “Okay.”

As he pulled his fingers out of you, he licked them once more, his eyes on yours seductively.

“You taste so good.” he moaned, his mouth parted. He then lifted you up, walking you over to the table of waxed surfboards in the middle of the room. Shoving everything off with one hand, he threw you onto the wood, causing you to let out a little grunt.

“You’re so sexy,” he leaned over you, slamming your hands above your head before silencing your moans with a rough kiss. “So fucking sexy, you have no idea how long I wanted to shove my dick inside you.” His words were like gasoline to your fire, causing you to cry out in a whimper for him to do exactly what he said he would do. You kept your mouth shut as he tugged you to the edge of the table, lining up his hard-on to enter you.

After a look of longing, he spit onto his fingers and rubbed them onto his cock and your heat, his chest falling and rising with his heavy breathing. He then buried himself inside you, deeply, causing your breath to hitch. He was even bigger than your dreams, tearing apart your expectations of his skills. You tried your best to free your arms from his hold, but as he moved in and out of you, you had lost the desire to escape it. You really liked the feeling of his fingernails tearing into your skin.

“Ah,” he whimpered, his hips rocking quickly, his eyes shut tight. His thrusts were deep, not slowing down for a second.

Your legs curled around his shoulders, his one arm holding your hands and his other piercing into your ankle. He grunted as he pumped into you, tearing at your insides, feeling him fill you up. “Hwa,” you groaned, back arching in pleasure. “Harder. Fuck me harder.”

He grunted in response, speeding up faster as his hips slammed into yours. You felt him quiver inside you, precum dripping into you without a care. You loved the feeling, you didn't care about the risks in the moment.

You climaxed without warning, your legs tightening around his head. He kept muttering your name over and over again against you, kissing the skin of your ankles as he continued to fuck the living shit out of you. You started to see stars as he nearly cracked your spine, and right before he nearly came, he flipped you over onto your stomach without ever leaving you.

Your face was shoved against the wood of the table, the sweet smell of sex enveloping your senses. You cried out his name as he gripped onto your hips, moving faster as his own orgasm came close. His lips met the small of your back, his fingers gripped your ass with haste.

“I’m going to come,” he mumbled, his voice raspy. “Can I come in you?”

“Yes,” you breathed. “Come inside me.”

As if your words stirred something within him, he immediately moved in shorter movements, his grip on your ass tightening as his orgasm came. His breathing shallowed as he came into you, filling you up with his cum. You let out one last moan as you felt his warmth, and he kissed the back of your neck as he finished.

He pulled out of you slowly despite how rough he was—he could've been rougher, but you didn't want him to think of you as the insane slut everyone thought you were.

Even though you only ever slept with others because you couldn't have him.

And now…..what comes next?

He helped you sit back up to a normal position, and when he saw the dark, purple bruises on your neck and collarbone, he gasped. “Oh, I’m sorry,” his fingers gently brushed against your hot skin as if he didn't just totally destroy you. “I kind of….went crazy, didn't I?”

You smiled up at him in a daze, both your cheeks blushed in embarrassment and enjoyment. “I like crazy.”

He paused, standing proudly in front of you with that delicious body of his. You sighed in contentment, a lazy smile on your lips. “I dreamt of this. Literally.” you reached out to him, pulling his lips down to yours. He kissed them softly, opening his mouth wide as he made out with you. You didn't want to pull away, but as the thought of you both having sex in a public surf shack came to your mind, you pulled away quickly, startling him.

“Um, so,” you laughed awkwardly. “Should we head back now? We are kind of in a public place….”

Seonghwa looked around, smirking as he leaned forward on the table, kissing you once more. “It was kind of thrilling, not gonna lie.”

You leaned into his embrace, his hands caressing your back romantically. “So,” you whispered against his lips. “We should get back. And this time, you better sleep in the bed with me.”

“Oh, baby, I plan on doing more than just sleeping.”

—

After countless rounds of ‘sleeping’, you ended up waking up late in Seonghwa’s embrace, his lips pressed against the curve of your shoulder as he held you. He quite literally rocked you all night long, and you even discovered his love for reverse cowgirl—making him come within two minutes of the fifth round.

Now, as you lay in his arms while he slept, you finally felt content. He was all you ever wanted, even though your words said otherwise this whole time of knowing him.

“Hey,” you turned around in his embrace, pressing your lips against his forehead. “Seonghwa.”

“Hm?” he grumbled sleepily, his eyes blinking open to meet yours.

You smiled, running a hand through his messy hair. “We should get up. The others are probably waiting for us in the lobby.”

“Ugh, why?” he groaned, holding onto you tighter. “ I don't want to leave this bed today. Or ever.”

You giggled, pecking his lips. “Come on, Hwa. I really would like to get a tan on the sand today.”

His eyes were wide open now, but he blinked slowly from his sleepiness. “We barely got any sleep,” he huffed, shoving his head into your shoulder. “And I can't kiss you in front of everyone, I can't wait the whole day to touch you.”

You grinned chaotically.

“Who says we have to hide it?”

—

“Dear lord,” Wooyoung huffed, sitting with his arms crossed at the beach. “Are they ever going to stop and come up for air?”

Your friends sat on towels on the sand, while you sat on Seonghwa’s lap as you made out with him. His hands gripped your face as he stuck his tongue in your mouth, both of you having no care for those around you.

“I knew this was going to happen,” San mumbled with a smirk, elbowing Wooyoung playfully. “Just let them have their fun. It’s been a long time coming.”

“Pfft,” Woo scoffed, looking at how seonghwa touched you.

“I always thought I would be the one tapping that.”

“Wooyoung shut the fuck up.”

#ateez #ateez smut #ateez fanfic #ateez seonghwa #park seonghwa #seonghwa #seonghwa x reader #seonghwa smut #roomates #vacation au #ateez masterlist #enemies to lovers #fwb #wooyoung #San #mingi #Hongjoong

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inkskinned · 1 year

Text

we really didn't get violent enough about roe v wade being overturned. but and also - you're one person. you donated money. you went to the protest. you did what you could, which felt like doing basically nothing.

recently some big paper published an op ed (why did you even read it? you knew you'd get upset) about how it's gross that men can't find a partner because women don't want to suffer bad dates - they'd rather go to yoga class. you actually laughed - well, yeah! and it was funny until it wasn't, because something about it made your stomach churn. this is the thing, you want to say, but you don't have the words for what the thing is. just that men being bad at dating is your fault.

the thing is also on instagram. you don't know if it's a setting or algorithm thing, but these days, the most hurtful comments always seem to skim the top. simple reaction is don't read the comments but - you're human, so you're curious. you want to respond to every weird, sanctimonious one with replaying something a million times to find evidence they're lying about their gender is literally sexual harassment you shouldn't be proud of this or maybe get a fucking life you absolute dickhead but you've gotten into enough of these battles as a kid. nothing ever resolves. it just makes you upset.

your father was radicalized. the thing is - you go to therapy about it and yet never find the words for exactly the way that one hurts.

the other day your sister predicted that a commercial that aired during the superbowl was going to cause trouble. you wanted her to be wrong about that. this morning, while scrolling, you saw someone post exactly that - he got so angry i had to leave. it was terrifying. it reminds you, however bleakly: there are entire swathes of people who do not worry about domestic violence. who have no idea why you would put keys into your fist. who do not understand "it's better to be rude than dead." who have never googled am i being gaslit.

the other day you found out there's a bill that would make it so if you have a uterus and are braindead, you could fulfil your cattle purpose and carry a fetus to term. you think about the fact that the leading cause of death for pregnant people is murder. you think about ongoing and informed consent. you think about how, out of fear, if your ex boyfriend had pressured you, you absolutely would have said yes to it. in the comments, you write there is no way that these documents wouldn't be immediately forged. this is going to be misused. and then just delete it, sighing. get up and go to work.

the other day they overturned roe v wade. we weren't nearly violent enough about it. somewhere, a clock is ticking. it's been ticking a long time. you want to say it's time, but it's been time for a while, hasn't it.

#<3 time to get cancelled on the internet #btw this is trans inclusive author is nb #writeblr #i had a kind of argument with someone about that bill bc he was like ''oh but we do this for other organs'' and im like #okay so like the time it takes to safely extract an organ #versus NINE MONTHS of not having consent . not being able to bury the body.#my family unable to mourn. being used a host.#even if ALL OF THAT was NOT the case.#i do not believe for a fucking SECOND this would be use safely. i cannot imagine a world in which #it was not immediately and with gusto. used to abuse others

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caesium-55 · 2 months

Text

—seven days. [ vi.ii ]

pairing: max verstappen x manager! reader.

summary: as the third time world champion, max verstappen's manager, you function on the belief that whatever max verstappen wanted, max verstappen shall get. but this time, after four years of working as his manager, you can't give him what he wants anymore and that was to stay.

author's note: guess who's not listening in her calculus lecture rn. also, wifi is acting funny rn.

tags: @whatamidoingwithmylife-ramdom @eugene-emt-roe @bellezaycafe @barnestatic @theseerbetweenus @wcnorris @notyouraveragemochii @lpab @vildetry06 @a-beaverhausen @formula1mount @loloekie @alucardsdaddyissues @juky-ps @cassianswh0reeee @devotedlycrookeddonut @amberpanda99 @supermaxv1 @evie-119 @spideylovin @harianaswhore @formulaal

masterlist.

2020

There have been a lot of new protocols to follow. Social distancing. Wearing face masks. Races being rescheduled. Australia, China, Netherlands, Monaco, Azerbaijan, Canada, and France are canceled. Vietnam is postponed. The first race of the season takes place in the Red Bull Ring in Austria and Max gets a fucking DNF.

After exchanging Instagram accounts in December, Max has spent a normal amount of time stalking your feed. That's what you do when you’re trapped inside your apartment alone because of a global health crisis, you explore the online world.

It seems like you’ve been operating the account since your university days and a lot of your posts show a side of you that’s different from the manager he knows. He learns that you play billiards competitively. You've even reached an Australian tournament. He learns that you watch NASCAR and motocross and drift racing. He learns that you know how to drive a firetruck. He learns that you like partying in LA and you took up volunteer work in the LA fire brigade around your sophomore year. He learns that you’re particularly fond of taking pictures of the skies at different times of the day and the things you’re studying. He notices that you only post group selfies or low angle blurry selfies of you. You don't take pretty pictures of just you.

The oldest post is a photo of you offering a middle finger while smiling and filling up the gas tank of a truck. You're also wearing a red sweatshirt with the letters USC written at the front and skinny ripped jeans. If you swipe right, the next photo shows a picture of you and your group of friends writing on papers on the hood of the truck. Max sees numbers and scratches and crossed out sketches. Max notices a canned beer on your other hand while you press down on your scientific calculator buttons and shakes his head. You do not change.

The latest post is a photo dump of the Abu Dhabi Grand Prix in 2019. A picture of the aerial show, grainy zoomed in pictures of the garage, selfies with the mechanics, a bathroom mirror selfie, and a blurry picture of a beer in your hand from the after party. He presses like in every post, latest to the oldest.

you: fucking stalker

max: fuck you

max: *sent a photo*

max: nice teeth by the way

you: i hate you

you: *sent a photo*

you: ya think im the only one who looks ugly with braces?

Since then, Max’s relationship with you has considerably improved. The two of you spend a lot of nights dm-ing each other on Instagram and sending each other reels.

max: SOS

you: ??

max: I THINK THE STOVE IS ON FIRE

you: the stove is supposed to have fire

max: ITS ON FIRE

You and Max sit on the floor, back against the kitchen counter, chest heaving in quick breaths, shoulders bumping against each other. You hold the fire extinguisher close to your chest and your eyes are closed and your lips are parted a little. Max observes your side profile.

You're not a categorically attractive woman. But with the way the sun rays enter Max’s kitchen window and hit your face at all the right angles, you look like someone worth missing a sunset over. Max allows himself to stare and mentally tries to convince himself that this is a very normal amount of staring at one’s manager slash friend.

He’s crossing the line that divides friendship and something unnamed.

“Do you need me to call maintenance so we can get your stove replaced?”

Max nods.

“Yes please.”

You post a new picture on Instagram after a long period of dryness. Max gets a notification. He checks it out.

The caption reads: meet my full time dog and part time boyfriend

The picture is blurry and grainy but Max can make out your face perfectly. There’s a billiard table. Max sees a person in the background. A man. He's wearing a Williams shirt.

Is that a racer? Max immediately thinks of Nicholas Latifi. You and him are around the same age. But the blurry man in the picture doesn't look like Nicholas. The hair color and the build is different. George, maybe? He’s a year younger than Max. Do you prefer your men younger? Scratch that. That’s impossible. Max knows he has a girlfriend named Carmel or Carmen or something.

max: you have a boyfriend

you: youre fast

max: when did this happen?

you: uh

you: earlier?

Max resists the urge to hurl his phone across the room.

max: details [name]

max: i need details

you: nuh uh kid you havent unlocked that level of friendship yet

you: that's friendship level 8 ur still on level 6

max: i will hunt you down and force you to tell me

max: and don't call me kid i'm one year younger than you

you: id like to see you try

max: i think u forgot im the one who gave you the apartment where u live rn

You introduce Leo to Max a month later.

Leo is a British brunette guy with a face that one would consider mid in Europe but a ten in the US. He is one of the Williams mechanics. You mention that he used to do karting as a kid and even went up to F3 but he’s decided to discontinue his racing career because he thinks engineering and the technical aspects of a formula car is far more interesting than racing.

He’s basically the complete opposite of Max.

He’s a good guy, Max can tell. He’s well-mannered, he’s calm, he knows how to treat you right. Above all else, he makes you the happiest. You have the most genuine and beautiful smile on your face when he comes into your view.

He also handles your relationship very maturely. He doesn't demand. He understands that you work for different racing teams with different jobs and that means different priorities.

The weekly IG posts are also too cute. It looks like it came out of a Pinterest board.

Max will never tell you that he spends a good hour every time you post something with Leo in it like an obsessive freak. He tries to make sense of the feeling in his chest. Something green. Something ugly. Something he can't name.

Max should be happy that you found a guy as great as Leo. But he cannot, for the life of him, be fully happy for you. He doesn't know why.

“PR told me that you received a dinner invite from Kelly Piquet,” you state, sitting down on the empty chair across from him and putting your packed lunch on the table. You carefully lay the folded clothes on the other chair. Max deduces they will be the ones he’ll be wearing for the interview scheduled in about two hours. You already sent him the list of questions in his email but he hasn't opened them yet.

“Yeah,” Max says after swallowing. “She’s been sending invites since two months ago.”

“And you left her on seen?”

Max scoffs, “I didn't leave her on seen. I just…well, I saw them late and declined them politely.”

He knows Kelly Piquet. He’s aware of the history she shared with former Red Bull Racing now Toro Rosso driver, Daniil Kvyat. Max also knows she’s the daughter of Nelson Piquet, retired Formula One champion. He thinks it's rude to take the guy’s ex-girlfriend after he’s taken his seat in Red Bull.

“She’s interested in you,” you claim, opening the tupperware and quickly saying grace before digging in.

Max is not good with dealing with women. Twenty-three years old and he’s still girlfriend-less. But he knows how to recognize people who are interested in him. A significant number of women have tried their chances with him since he began racing professionally and he may have used you as some sort of getaway driver to get him out of all the awkward situations where he has to deal with women who are interested in him.

You have a very scary resting bitch face if you try hard enough. Its efficiency in scaring off people is proven to be, well, efficient.

“Yeah, I suppose.”

“Are you interested in her?” you question.

Max thinks about it. Really thinks about it.

“Do you think it’ll be good if I get a girlfriend?” he throws you a question instead of an answer.

“You're twenty-three, man. It's about time you start doin’ somethin’ about your empty dating history.”

Max nose scrunches but doesn't say anything because it's the truth. His dating history is hilariously empty.

“What’s your opinion of Kelly?”

“Uh, cool pussy, I guess. Don't really care.”

Max rolls his eyes, “You’re so crude.”

You shrug uncaringly.

“But I don't mind who you wanna date, man. I mean, it's your life. Date who you wanna date. Live the life you wanna live. All the jazz and shedazzle.”

Max accepts the dinner invite.

The 2020 season ends with Hamilton standing at the top, officially becoming a seven-time world champion. Bottas is behind him. Verstappen, like 2019, still stands in third place. Max vows 2020 will be the last year Hamilton becomes a world champion. The team doesn't hold a big afterparty like it usually does and Max flies home to Monaco immediately.

It's been months since he's started seeing Kelly and the woman is pleasant company. Her daughter, Penelope, is the most adorable human being that ever stepped on Earth. Max loves the little bean with all his heart and he himself is surprised that he’s capable of loving a little human this much. He’s practically convinced that he’ll be a shitty father one day. He does not have a good model figure to look up to when it comes to fatherhood.

Little P, Max learns, is obsessed with crocheted things. Max sees her little bags and little hats—all crocheted. Kelly says she pays their housekeeper to make things for little Penelope because she likes them so much.

Max decides he wants to learn how to crochet. He buys the material and learns through hundreds of Youtube videos. His first masterpiece is a bag. It's white and light orange. He shows it to his mum, who questions how on Earth did her son take an interest in a hobby other than racing or anything car-related. Despite that, she compliments it and Max feels confident that you’ll like it, too, now that he’s gotten his mother’s approval.

He finishes making it by the eighteenth day of December and he calls you, hoping he has the chance to give it before you fly down to Texas for the off-season. But you already left Monaco, just the day before and are now spending the first few weeks of the break in New Zealand with Leo.

“So it's serious?” Max asks you over the phone. He stares at the dark sky in Belgium. There's no stars tonight. Only the moon and it’s looking down at him like it's mocking him. Max wonders what the sky looks like in New Zealand right now.

“Of course,” you say.

“Well then, enjoy the holidays.”

“You, too, man.”

The call ends.

2021

Max sees you enter the Red Bull hospitality. The first thing he notices is that your shoes are brand new. Same model—the black and gold YSL Opyum heels, yes he knows the name because he searched it on Google—but brand new. Your bag is also brand new and it’s not the old cream-colored tote bag with peach prints. It's a cream-colored tote bag with Van Gogh’s painting—the Starry Night—printed at the front. You show it to Max excitedly and tell him that it's from Leo, the bag and the shoes, and Max fakes a smile the whole time. When he returns to his room in the evening, he throws the crochet bag he made over December in the trash bin. Kelly sees it but she doesn't question it.

“PR suggests that you film a Tiktok.”

Max groans, throwing his head back and rolling his eyes to the back of his head.

“Tell them no.”

“Come on, it’ll be fun,” you encourage him, shaking his shoulders. “There's a lot of dance trends right now.”

“I said no, [Name].”

“Max.”

You throw your hands on your waist, looking at him pointedly with your lips pursed. Max returns the stare.

He gives up after five seconds.

“Fine.”

You huff in triumph.

“But you’re doing it with me,” Max bargains.

“Oh come on,” you throw your hands in the air.

“Now you know how it feels. Tell PR that I’m not going to film a Tiktok unless you film it with me,” Max smiles cheekily.

You're not going to film a Tiktok video with him. He knows you hate filming yourself and posting it for the public. There's a reason why you avoided cameras as if it’s the sun and you're a vampire and had all your social media accounts in private.

You pull an unexpected move and you nod your head.

“Fine.”

Max’s smile drops.

You film a Tiktok using Red Bull Racing’s official Tiktok account. A simple dance. Max does not know the title. The steps are simple and it's easy to memorize. He believes he can do this fairly easily. You don't look like you’re having fun while memorizing the dance steps but you're not overly struggling.

You film the video in three takes. When Max sees the final outcome, he cringes. His long limbs look awkward as he performs the steps despite thinking that he’s doing fine while filming it. You, on the other hand, look fine.

You look good while dancing actually. There’s a certain grace that accompanied your movements.

“You dance good,” Max comments.

“It’s the Latina in me,” you claim, raising your chin a little.

Max snorts.

You show the draft video to the PR team. Without hesitation, they scratched it.

“Why?” Max asks, brows furrowing.

“Apparently, they're too tired releasing statements that we’re not dating. They're afraid that the Tiktok video would bring back our dating rumors,” you roll your eyes. “They’ve decided to just make you do a Tiktok filter game.”

Max does the one filter where he has to solve the simple math equations projected on the screen. He has to tilt his head to the side where the right answer is placed and he needs to do it quickly.

Max is not bad at Mathematics. He’s not good at it either. He’ll say that he’s just average at it like every human being on Earth.

You sit beside him, barking him the answers before his brain can even process and perform the required operations.

“60 points. That's not good enough,” he says.

You nod, “Damn right. You're not tilting your head to the right answer fast enough.”

“Maybe you're not giving the answers quick enough.”

The video gets more than ten takes. The two of you don't stop until you get the perfect score.

Monza is a disaster. To summarize: the 53-lap race is won by Daniel Ricciardo, who has now moved to McLaren. He capitalizes on a good front-row start and the crash between Max Verstappen and Lewis Hamilton to take the race lead. Lando, Daniel’s teammate comes in second with Mercedes' Valtteri Bottas in third. Max and Lewis—DNF.

Max doesn't remember the last time he’s been that angry and the anger doubles when he sees the seven-time world champion celebrate on the tracks. Max then decides that he’s going to be more risky, especially now that he knows how safe the car is. Max is willing to risk his life for number one.

Max lies in the medical bay and he hears voices outside. Too many voices. He’ll appreciate it greatly if the voices disappear. He's too angry right now that the noise of the outside world is too much.

“Max?”

The voices disappear and it's only you he can see, he can hear, he can feel. You're everything.

You said it. His name. It sounds even better than he imagined.

“[Name].”

After making sure he’s okay, you tell Max that you wish to go to Danny and congratulate him for winning. Max grabs your hand, unwilling to let go.

“You're not his manager anymore,” Max reminds you. “You're mine.”

He’s very much aware that he sounds like a child who refuses to let his older brother borrow his favorite toy but he cannot find himself to care. Screw Daniel.

You give him a long look but follows his demands anyway, “We’re gonna congratulate him later whether you like it or not. He’s our friend and he just got P1. We’re gonna be happy for him 'cuz that's what friends do. I’ll drag your ass to his hotel room if I have to.”

Jos Verstappen is not happy. When has he ever been happy with Max anyway? He calls Max after the Monza race and proceeds to yell because that’s all he ever does with Max. He yells. Max is embarrassed that he’s twenty-three and he’s still getting yelled at by his own father.

“Your Dad’s an asshole,” you stated after he ends the call. Max knows you heard his father’s voice even though he has not put the call on loudspeaker.

“Don't talk to my Dad like that,” he reprimands, though not unkindly. “But yeah, he is.”

You snort, “You okay?”

Max lets out a shaky breath, nodding weakly.

"Yeah, I'm fine. You would think that after all this time I would get used to it but I don't know. It still makes me feel so uncomfortable and like I'm doing everything wrong even though I've been doing that for such a long time now and I've achieved so many things he asked for."

Your gaze softens and Max mentally begs that you stop looking at him like that. He does not want your pity. Pity is for the weak. Max is not weak.

You open your arms, “Rein it in, big guy.”

“What are you doing?”

“You need a hug.”

Max hesitates but he invites himself to your arms anyway. He allows himself to melt. In your arms, he feels like he's home and that he's good enough.

The breakup happens two race weekends later. Max is not dumb nor is he so emotionally indifferent that he cannot sense if a person is going through a breakup especially if that person is someone so close to him. He already knows there’s something wrong and he knows exactly what’s wrong and yet he still asks, “What's wrong?”

“Nothin’,” you say a little too quickly as if you already know that Max is going to ask the question.

“[Name],” his fingers circle around your wrist. “It's not nothing. Your eyes are red. Have you been crying?”

He wants you to open up. He wants you to say something. He wants you to share the heartache you carry so it won't feel heavy on your shoulders. He wants to be someone who’ll carry your problems with you when the world feels too big and you too small.

You sigh shakily, forcing a polite smile. Your hand comes up to squish Max’s cheek in between your palms and Max’s brows rise slightly at the action. Your hands feel cold and they’re trembling slightly and Max wants to point it out, but he sees how your lips wobble and his mind just blanks, “It's not important. You only have one thing to think about and that is to win. You hear me?”

Max considers marching to the Williams Racing livery and demanding for Leo Stark but he chooses not to. You won't want him to, anyway.

Max never realizes how horrifying blood is until he sees it dripping down the side of your head. He watches as your face changes from shock to realization to absolute anger. It’s like watching you transform from human to a rabid animal who wants to shed blood. At first, he tries to pull you away and calm you down. When he sees the girl’s boyfriend appear, Max joins the fight. No man is allowed to hit you. Not on his watch.

The higher-ups are not the happiest when they learn of what happened. The PR team is having a field day as well. Someone captured the event in video and posted it online. Max has been given a script for the video he’ll have to do to save his image but it’s written differently. Different in a way that the way the words are arranged feels odd to him unlike the way you write your scripts for Max. You write the scripts as if Max is the one who writes them. You write the script in a way Max will write them. Because you know him enough to know what kind of words he wants to use and how he’ll phrase things. You choose words that are easy on his tongue and you structure the sentences so that he can memorize them easily.

Helmut is the one who says, “She should leave the team.”

“If you fire her, I’m leaving,” Max decides.

Christian narrows his eyes at him, “You won't dare.”

“Try me,” he challenges. “I am willing to pay millions to leave if she leaves.”

The other teams want him, Max knows. They know he’s rising to stardom, a racer who can stand equal to Lewis Hamilton in the right time. Red Bull is too afraid of spitting out their star now. Not when Max is already giving Lewis Hamilton a big run for his money this year. Not when Max just showed the world that he’s capable of more than just being third place.

The wretched Hamilton fan decides to sue and Max calls upon his mother’s help to find the best lawyers to fight for you. Sophie willingly helps him.

Max is going to protect you, like you always do to him.

#max verstappen x reader #f1 x reader #formula 1 #formula one #max verstappen #max verstappen x you #f1 imagines #manager!reader #mv33 x you #mv1 x reader #mv33 x reader #mv1 #mv33

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