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ssinboo · 5 months

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Say Yes to me

summary: You've been in love with Jeon Wonwoo since forever, and due to your family relations, you had hopes you'd marry him. Your only problem? he's getting engagement to someone else.

During his Engagement party, your childhood best friend and love of your life, Jeon Wonwoo, asks you to run away with him.

pairing: 1960s!AU - Childhood bestfriend! Wonwoo x F!Reader

word count: 10k (45~ minute read) – My longest ever!

warnings: unrequited crushes and overall foolishness, idiots in love, best friends to lovers to not lovers to lovers again, some angst?, Wonwoo is such a nerd, making out in dingy motels, unrealistic mileage for gasoline, seokmin being the sweetest

a/n: This will most certainly be my last fic of the year! So, Happy Holidays everyone! This year has been so troublesome, but I've grown so much and written a lot more, too! I'm so, so grateful for everyone I've met and everyone that's enjoyed my stuff! See you in 2024!

Had you been questioned, there would never be a concrete answer to the question of just how long you had been in love with Jeon Wonwoo.

You’d know him forever, and maybe you loved him all along.

Your families were business partners turned friends. And there had always been talk of marriage between the children. Of course, for convenience. The Jeon’s produced top-class racing and sports cars, while your family were in the chemical business, specialising in industry paints and finishes, it was only natural to unite the two families and profit.

Although your wealth was vast, it was nothing compared to the Jeon’s, despite always having the chance to frequent the same environments, you often found you were on different levels altogether.

Jeon Wonwoo was the eldest son, and he carried himself as such — with all the poise and arrogance of the heir to a global conglomerate. He liked golfing and late night swims. Always took his coffee black with no sugar, and barely had anything for breakfast, preferring a hearty lunch instead.

His younger brother, Lee Seokmin, was the result of an affair with a secretary, though that did not mean he was loved any less, no. Seokmin lacked a single mean bone in his body, he had a pure heart and a contagious laugh.

They were by all means what people liked to call Irish Twins, born less than a year apart. And the nature of that fact only made their differences more apparent. Complete opposites they were, and that extended to how they treated you, too.

Every summer growing up, your family would travel to the country house and you and your sister would spend the better part of the months at the club. Oh, how you loved the country club with the fun summer activities the clear chlorinated water, having a meal under the pool umbrellas and getting funny tan lines.

But most of all, you enjoyed Jeon Wonwoo.

His family frequented the same club and every summer, you’d be practically glued to Wonwoo, even if he didn’t dare to pay you any attention.

You were only three years apart, yet he acted as if you were an immature brat. Seokmin had always been happy to play with you and your sister, though.

More often than not, Wonwoo would lounge by the pool with a book, never daring to go in. And you would cross your arms over tile by the sides and try your damnedest to strike a conversation with him. He would ignore your every word, or worse, poke fun at your latest obsession.

“Wonwoo, at what time where you born?” You ask, spitting out any chlorine filled water off your mouth.

He arches an eyebrow, looking up from his book.

“What?”

“What time were you born?” You repeat, unbothered by his acidic tone.

“Why would I know that?”

“Can’t you ask your mum?”

He rolls his eyes, “Why do you wanna know?”

“So I can see your birth chart,” You shrug, twirling a wet strand of hair around your finger.

“The fuck is a birth chart?”

“It’s like… It’s a way to see your personality… And I can check to see if we’re compatible.”

“That’s stupid…” He rolls his eyes, again, “You’re stupid.”

You scoff, “You won’t play along— You’re such a bore!” You yell out and dive back in the pool, leaving behind a cackling Wonwoo.

Those hapless summer days were spent lazing by the pool with your sister and Seokmin — without a care in the world, laughing about nothing. With the isolated water-balloon fight every now and then.

You’d grown up before you could realise it, never truly leaving behind your childish crush on Wonwoo. Even if by the age hierarchy, you had no chance of marrying him — Your sister were to marry Wonwoo and you possibly married Seokmin.

Though you held hope, it crumbled away with every passing minute.

But that year, your sister had the greatest early birthday present: She’d found the man she was to marry and best of all, your daddy could never say no to his girls.

With your sister marrying the love of her life, it meant that you would marry Wonwoo, right? It was only a matter of time and you would be sworn to each other before God, your friends, and family. And your first love would blossom.

On your 21st birthday, your father took you to work with him for the day, though you most lazed around and answered his calls. You only expected to have lunch for your birthday and a party on the weekend.

At noon, he drove to the Jeon’s factory to deliver the new paint samples.

The workers, most of whom had watched you, your sister and the Jeon kids grow up, greet you excitedly and some even wish you happy birthday. Your father goes straight to the floor to speak to the manager.

Unexpectedly, Mr. Jeon himself shows up.

Mr. Jeon was a handsome old man a captivating smile, he was incredibly passionate about his work and adored mechanics, but he loved his sons above all — And he had great expectations for his boys.

He greets you with a warm hug and wishes you a happy birthday before discussing business with your father. To which you busy yourself with staring at the pieces waiting for a coat of paint.

“Hey, baby, why don’t you come with us to the patio?” Your father calls and you oblige, skipping toward the two men.

The patio is where they stored their models waiting to be shipped out to agencies or sometimes, for the higher profile clients, directly to the customer. You look at the new line to be launched next winter: sleek and modern with leather seats and wooden accents on the interior. You could never criticise the Jeon’s for their taste, they knew their stuff.

“Come here, baby,” Your father waves his hands, “What do you think of this car?”

You study the convertible in a bright red with a cream leather interior; a classic.

“It’s gorgeous, daddy, when are they launching it?”

“It should be out next year, but what do you think of the colour?”

“I like it,” You nod enthusiastically.

“That’s great baby, why don’t you read up on this model?” He hands you a tiny card, common in the factory, that has the model and batch number, as well as the signature from the supervisor. But just underneath the model, you see the colour name: your name.

As you look at your father, completely astonished, he just lets out a warm laugh and opens his arms for a hug.

“You named a shade after me?!” You glue yourself to him, still in shock.

“Happy birthday, princess.”

“Thank you, daddy, you’re the best!”

“That’s your dad’s present, how about you open mine, now?” Mr. Jeon interjects, waving a tiny jewelry box in the air.

You fix your hair and take it from his hand, expecting maybe a ring, or earrings.

But you find brand new car keys.

Mouth agape, you look at him while your father can only laugh at your surprised expression.

“Why don’t you give it a spin?” Mr. Jeon encourages, rushing you toward the convertible.

And though your father is beside himself with worry for you driving during rush hour, he settles for sitting in the passenger’s seat and doing some good old backseat driving, even though you barely make it past 30.

You drive around the block and return to the factory before your father has an anxiety attack over your driving.

“Thank you so much, Mr. Jeon! When did you even do this?! I had no idea!”

“Wonwoo oversaw the whole thing, he’s the one you should thank,” He laughs it off, but your heart can only skip a beat at the mention of your beloved’s name. Especially thinking he was the one to take care of such a great gift.

Wonwoo loved mechanics as much as his dad, sometimes even more. He even went to a good college for it, coming back even smarter than before — and much sassier, too. He never stopped doing manual work in the factory, guaranteeing every car made was up to the Jeon standard.

And you were very biased toward his mechanic abilities, especially when he would furrow his brow, glasses perched on the very tip of his nose; he would wipe off sweat off his forehead with his grease covered arm.

You remember to this day the last time your father came to discuss swatches and you stopped by the shop. Watching Wonwoo work on an older model with a leaky oil tank.

He did everything himself, changed the tank perched under the car, soldering a brand new one. He also did a once over on anything else that could become a problem in the future, any filters needing change, checking wires and gears, making sure the oil was fresh. The problem came with the lights. He had such a hard time wiggling his thick arms through the machinery to reach the right spot, and you watched very intently how his triceps flexed, deep green veins bulging under his skin.

Wonwoo had gotten so frustrated he’d shed off the top part of his coveralls, sporting a white undershirt so tight you could basically tell the shape of his sweat-clad torso. Oh, how you’d hoped he never got that bulb in place.

“Come’ere,” Wonwoo calls out without further ado.

“Why?”

“Need your help,” He mumbles under a sigh.

You rise from the barrel you were sitting on and approach the open hood. “With what?”

“Getting this fuckin’ bulb in place,” He hands you the tiny light bulb.

“Where do I need to put it?”

“See— in between this part, need to shove you hand until you reach back here in the light, then you just screw it in.”

“What if I get stuck?”

“You won’t, you’re so petite,” He smirks.

You scoff, “Shut up.”

Leaning over the hood, you place your left hand on the chassis to steady yourself and shove your right hand in between gears and machinery, trying to find the spot he mentioned.

“I can’t find it,” You complain.

“Keep trying.”

“I am!”

“Here, deeper—“ He reaches for you, one hand on your waist and another on your arm, forcing you toward the place.

You’re way too focused on finding the damn spot for the light, that you barely notice the proximity at all.

“Can’t find it!”

“Right, right— My right.”

“It’s the same freakin’ right, you idiot,” You hiss.

He laughs, “Fine, our right,” you groan at his stupid joke, “It should be there, try to bring it closer to you.”

“Found it!” You squeal with a smile, screwing the bulb in its place.

“Atta girl,” Wonwoo smiles.

“There!” With a relieved sigh, you finally free your grease-clad hand from the machinery, slightly cringing at the black covering your fingernails — It’d be such a bother to clean it up.

When you finally lean back, you stumble onto Wonwoo’s firm chest. Lucky for you, he catches you, steady hold at your waist. You’re finally aware of his proximity, to which he only smiles.

Looking down at where his warm, tauntingly large hands meet your waist, you’re suddenly filled with nothing but rage. ‘

“You got grease all over my dress!” You whine, looking at the perfectly stamped print of his hand over your brand new summer dress.

He only laughs, “Looks better this way, trust me.”

“Ugh!” You groan, stomping toward the washing area where they kept clean rugs.

He closes the hood with a loud thump that echoes through the shop and slides into the driver’s seat. The car comes alive with a loud hum and ta-da! The headlight works.

You are a little proud of your work, yes. But it’s not like you’ll show it.

“Do you not anything clean in here?!” You complain, eyeing the pile of grease-covered rags thrown in a corner. That had to be a fire hazard.

“What?” Wonwoo shouts over the running engine.

You huff and stomp your way back to the car, throwing open the driver’s door. “I have a formal dinner to go to,” You state, leaning over the door.

“Okay, then go.”

Rolling your eyes, you hold back any possible insults, “Like this?” You gesture toward your otherwise perfectly fine dress.

He holds back a little mischievous smile, “I have some clean clothes in the office.”

Wide eyes, mouth hanging agape, you stare at him dumbfound, “I hope that’s a joke, Jeon Wonwoo.”

He laughs, genuinely. That sweet, deep, dorky laugh of his that reverberates through his chest and plunges straight into your heart.

“Come on, I’ll drive you home.”

As much as he did tease you, Wonwoo never made short on his promises.

“Is he around?” You ask Mr. Jeon, trying your best to suppress any expectations.

“Oh, he had some business… But he wished you a happy birthday.”

Your smile falters before your catch it, forcing the corners of your lips into a beautiful, rehearsed smile. “Let him know I’m grateful. For the wishes and for the amazing present.”

It would soon be Wonwoo’s birthday and you had been preparing for what felt like ages. You got him a really nice set of electric work tools since he complained often about how the shop’s tools were always malfunctioning. But you did feel somewhat bad about only getting him a gift relating to work on what should be a day about him.

So you caved in and got him a gorgeous wrist watch with classy black leather straps; on the underside you had his name inscribed with a heart. — You actually hadn’t planned for the heart, but the jeweller got confused in between so many orders and it was too close to the date to have it re-done. You hoped you could play it off in a cool manner, maybe he would laugh at your story.

The party would be held the eve of his actual birthday, and you arrived at the venue with hours to spare. Your father and sister are by the entrance, speaking to Mr. Jeon, you greet them.

“Hi, Mr. Jeon! Where should I put the gifts?”

“Oh—“ Surprised, he looks at your father, “You’ve brought gifts—“ He seems… surprised? As if it were so weird to bring presents to a birthday party. “Uh— I’m not sure, let me check with my wife where you could place those.”

You father nervously sips on his champagne, avoiding your sister’s burning looks.

“You haven’t told her,” Your sister turns to your father, “Why didn’t you tell her?”

“Tell me what?” You ask.

“Honey… This isn’t Wonwoo’s birthday party…” Your father speaks very slowly, gauging for your reaction at his every word.

Eyebrows raised, you question, “What do you mean?”

“It’s an engagement party, he’s getting engaged to Suzy,” Your sister rips the band-aid off.

And you feel the air being sucked out of your lungs at once, an agonising knot pulls at your throat and your nose stings with the threat of tears. The shopping bags fall from your hands and you fight off the urge to bawl your eyes out.

Before you actually do cry your eyes out, you rush outside.

“Baby—“ Your father calls but you just storm off, not wanting to be near anyone.

Engaged? Engaged!

Engaged…

Wonwoo was getting fucking engaged.

With a bitch named Suzy who had the prettiest hair you’d ever seen and knew how to talk to investors and could speak a thousand languages. And worst of all, she was the kindest, sweetest girl ever. You couldn’t even hate her!

You weren’t even allowed that! As much as you weren’t allowed a simple heads up. How hard was it to tell you beforehand “Hey, the guy you’ve loved your entirely life is getting married to some girl and you just brought lemon pies to his engagement party, thought you’d want to know.”

Maybe you should’ve taken the pies with you, at least you’d have some comfort.

You know what, what the fuck. Why didn’t Wonwoo tell you anything?! It had been barely a couple of days since you saw each other, why couldn’t he tell you? Were you not even worthy of that?

Like having known each other your entire lives doesn’t make you worthy of such ”wonderful” news? How hard is it to tell someone in passing that you’re getting engaged! And now, you’re supposed to smile all night and pretend like your guts aren’t festering in rage and melancholy and your blood doesn’t run cold at the mere thought of Wonwoo walking down the aisle.

Giving it a second thought, maybe it wasn’t set in stone yet.

It’s the modern times and even back in your parents’ days, engagements were broken off all the time! He might not marry Suzy. You might have a chance.

Maybe you could ask— no, you could plead with your father to tell Mr. Jeon to think it all over. Wonwoo is still young, it’s not time to settle down just yet. He wanted to study abroad, he talked about the automobile industry in Europe with such amaze, and if that took a little longer, maybe Suzy would get tired of waiting?

Who were you fooling? You should’ve seen it coming.

Of course, he wouldn’t have married you, what were you thinking?!

He’s the Jeon’s precious firstborn and you’re… someone who can’t even tell apart the sizing in wrenches — To top it all off, Suzy was notably great with mechanics.

You really wish you had those pies with you, it would make your salty tears a little sweeter.

By the time you’re done sobbing in your car, you look a hot mess with runny make-up and swollen eyes. With a sigh, you pull out your purse and muster up any cosmetics that can save you for tonight.

You could cry all you wanted at home, but right now, you needed to look pretty and have your pictures taken.

By the time you return, the party is to start and guests are gathering at the front, your sister immediately rushes to your side.

“Are you okay?” she whispers, soft hands reaching for yours.

Forcing out a smile, “Of course! Who do you think I am?”

By the look on her face, you know she doesn’t trust your words not one bit, but will not pry at your emotions any further. At least not for tonight, you’re sure tomorrow she will grill you about this. But for now, you put on a bright smile and greet all the guests.

From the Jeon’s, Seokmin is the third to arrive, missing only by the birthday boy himself. But he immediately greets his parents and comes to greet your family.

“Hey!” You smile, putting aside your glass of champagne so you can hug him properly.

“How you doin’?” He asks, gorgeous smile on display.

“I’m— Well—“

“They’ve told you then—“

You press your lipstick coloured lips into a thin line, “Yeah,” You nod.

“Shit.”

“Yeah,” You shrug, “I’m happy, Suzy is… a—“ Nice words. Nice words. “—wonderful girl.”

Seokmin offers you a sweet smile. “Let’s hope she can handle his tantrums,” he nudges at your arm.

“Oh, please!” You laugh.

Wonwoo was known for sometimes having a bit of a short temper, not often, by any means and maybe that’s what made them so memorable. Like the one time he couldn’t finish a puzzle during game night, so he gathered all the pieces and set the ablaze in the backyard.

“Or—“ A waiter passes by with a tray full of champagne and he so kindly grabs two glasses, offering you one. “Listen to this— He gets to the church, covered in grease from head to toe.”

You laugh at the thought. Gods, how many times has Wonwoo decided to work on an engine while wearing his most expensive outfit? His mother nearly had a fit every time he would show up dishevelled and smelling like motor oil pretending like nothing’s wrong.

“Please,” You sip at your drink, “I bet he’s gonna be all greased up tonight.”

Seokmin laughs wholeheartedly. He was the sort of guy to never hold back a fit of giggles no matter how inappropriate it may be, and it was certainly refreshing to know someone genuinely found your company enjoyable.

“For sure, I think her parents will freak out.”

You nod.

Tapping at your glass, you hesitate the following words, “Guess we’ll be the ones getting married for the family, then…”

You didn’t hate Seokmin, far from it. You loved him to bits— Not like Wonwoo, of course, you believed you would never love a man like you loved Wonwoo, ever again.

He was funny, and such a gentleman. Not to mention, handsome, too. If you weren’t hopelessly in love with his brother, he would’ve been the perfect husband of your dreams. But he did deserve better than a wife who could never give him what he deserves.

“Sorry about that,” Seokmin comforts you and that only makes your nose sting with the threat of more tears.

“Stooop!” You whine in a shaky voice and he’s overcome with worry.

“Hey— What’s wrong—?”

“Don’t be so sweet— I’m emotional tonight—“ You laugh at your emotional state, despite the teary-eyes.

“Are you a crybaby tonight?”

You nod, fanning your eyes in the hope of drying your tears before they can wash away your makeup.

Seokmin smiles, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and you lean against his chest, fighting the urge to cry.

It’s only when you’re certain you won’t bawl your eyes out, that you respond. “It’s not that I hate you, you know I love you, but… You deserve someone that will love you like a husband.”

He nods, “I know— But it might not be so bad, we’re friends! We’ll have sleepovers every day, and we’ll have Italian every night, we’ll watch those silly movies you like…” Seokmin lists off all the things you would do in your very platonic marriage and it doesn’t sound so bad.

He knew exactly how you felt, he loved you, of course he did, you were so precious in his eyes, but not like a lover.

You pull your face away from his chest to look up at him, “Are you gonna let me choose your clothes?”

Seokmin sighs. You hated his questionable fashion since forever and in only very rare occasions did he accept your input, any other time and he assaulted your spirit with clashing patterns and silly shoes.

“Fine—!”

You smile brightly, properly comforted.

Before you can tease him any further, you spot Wonwoo entering the venue. Although he is immediately swarmed with congratulatory words, his shy nature makes it so his only response is always an awkward smile.

He immediately spots you among the crowd.

You breathe in. In that moment, despite knowing he was sworn to another, that did not stop your heart from fluttering at the sight of him, his broad shoulders and the crooked tie he clearly put on a rush.

“Congrats, bro!” Seokmin is the first one to greet him, not letting go of your shoulder but instead pulling Wonwoo into a semi-hug.

“Seokmin…” Wonwoo eyes his brother and then you, and then his brother again.

“Congrats, Nonu,” You smile, letting go of Seokmin’s comfort to reach for a hug.

Wonwoo smiles, letting you cling onto his neck, your citric perfume seeping into his clothes and body.

Oh, how his warmth could never compare to another. How you craved his affection like no other.

“Thanks— Uh, did you bring me anything?” He asks in a teasing tone.

“Ey— Nonu!” Seokmin scolds his brother.

“How did you know I brought you something?” You giggle, pulling away from the hug.

Wonwoo shrugs.

You reach for his crooked tie, straightening it to the best of your abilities. “I brought it earlier, but I think your mum took it to the back room,” You explain, focused on the tie.

He, however is focused on your concentrated face, parted red lips and furrowed brows. The proximity that lets him almost feel your chest pressed against his, as if extending the hug.

“However, you, mister, have to greet your guests!” You scold, setting his tie in place.

Seokmin joins in, once again throwing his arm around your shoulder. “That’s right, mum already gave me an earful about how late you were— And I got here on time!”

“Yeah— Yeah— You’re right,” Wonwoo nods.

“Liquid courage?” You offer your half-drunk glass of champagne and he downs it in one go.

You and Seokmin goof around a little more and gossip about certain guests behind their backs. Dinner is served and you all sit down to eat, Seokmin insists you sit beside him, which just so happens to also be next to Wonwoo. And you thank him for indulging you one last time.

Wonwoo is mostly quiet, but you were used to him not being rather fond of public parties, especially when all of the attention is on him. On his other side, sits Suzy, the blushing bride-to-be. She tries to make conversation with Wonwoo, though most of it falls flat, he only ever gives her monosyllabic answers and rarely contributes to discussions.

That is until Mr. and Mrs. Jeon stand up, tapping forks to their glasses to call for everyone’s attention. The room quiets down instantly.

“Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for attending our little gathering tonight,” Mr Jeon greets the guests. “We have some wonderful news we would like to share with you all.”

“My beautiful son, how proud I am of you,” He adds, “Every day I am amazed at your intellect. Often, I question just where did you get those smarts!”

Everyone laughs.

“You have grown into a fine man, and I can’t take credit for any of it. You are the most mature, talented, and intelligent boy and you did it all by yourself— ”

You can watch how Wonwoo’s eyes gloss over with tears.

“I’m growing old, you know. And every father wants the guarantee that his children will be taken care of… That’s why I’m so relieved and happy to announce that my worries will soon be gone—“ He laughs but his son’s smile falters, “I’d like to announce the engagement of my son, Wonwoo, to this beautiful young lady named Suzanne. Welcome to the family, Suzy.”

He raises his glass and soon, the room fills with uproar. Everyone claps and you join in, smiling toward Mr. Jeon and Suzy. She stands up, thanking everyone and raising her own glass.

But Wonwoo doesn’t move.

“Nonu?” You whisper.

In his ears all that can be heard is muffled screams of joy and the incessant acute ringing. He closes his fists so tight that his blunt nails almost break through skin, he doesn’t look at you, but it’s so clear something is wrong.

You and Seokmin exchange glances.

Before you can call for him again, he stands up at once, the chair falling behind him with a loud bang that silences the room in an instant. In large and rushed strides, Wonwoo leaves for the patio.

You stand up and follow him.

“Wonwoo!” You call out, almost tripping over your party heels.

He stands in the yard, hand gripping at his gelled hair while the other fights with his tie, pulling at the suffocating fabric until it slides down.

The yard is decorated with a gorgeous fountain, sound of running water somewhat soothing in this moment.

“Nonu, what’s wrong?” You whisper, a hand reaching for his heaving shoulder.

“What wrong?!” He yells back, shoving your hand away, “Did you not fuckin’ hear ‘em?!”

You step back and his gaze somewhat softens, realising he just pushed you.

“You didn’t know…” You whisper to yourself, epiphany hitting you like a punch to the gut. How could Mr. Jeon do this?! Throw this on him without any previous warning?!

“You— You knew?” His voice is shaky, laced with the sharp sting of betrayal.

“I found it out myself tonight when I got here— I— I thought you knew! I thought you agreed to it!” You argue.

“How— How can you think I would agree to marry someone—“ His words trail off in the night breeze, never to be finished.

“Then— What will you do?”

“I don’t know!”

You bite at your nails, finding a concrete surface to sit on and ponder.

“I must leave—“ He speaks out, “Run away with me—“

“What?!” you stand up.

“Let’s leave, drive somewhere— Wherever! I can’t stay a moment longer in this place.”

Oh, what a dilemma it was.

Abandon an engagement party with the groom-to-be, leaving behind furious parents and confused guests. And part of you knew that, despite your family’s closeness and no matter how much your father claimed you were all very close like family, driving off in the middle of the night with a committed man was a blow to any respectable, single, young ladies.

What a dilemma it could’ve been if you weren’t so enamoured with this man you would beck at any given call of his.

“I’ll get my bag and tell your parents you want to stay out here for a couple of minutes,” You announce and he nods.

As you walk back into the venue, all eyes are on you.

“He’s got the wedding jitters, everyone, not to worry. Wonwoo will return after he’s had a bit of fresh air,” You announce with a smile and all guests return to their previous activities.

But Mr. Jeon immediately corners you.

“What is he thinking?!” He half-yells, half-whispers.

“He’s just nervous, it’s a big bit of news…” You lie through your teeth, “I think a little heads up would’ve helped, you know he doesn’t do well with surprises.”

The man sighs, “He wouldn’t ever agree to it. I’ve offered him countless girls to marry and he never accepts any of them.“ Mr. Jeon looks at you and then sighs. “Do me a favour, convince him to come back, will you?”

“Yes, sir,” You nod and head off into the back rooms.

Unbeknown to you, Seokmin is on your trail and he waits until you are in the back lounge, gathering your bags and jacket to close the door and corner you.

“What the hell happened?”

You jump at the sudden intrusion, “You scared me!” You whisper.

“Sorry,” He whispers back.

“He didn’t know!”

“What?!” He says in a normal tone, soon realising just how loud that was.

“What I said, I think your dad set up a trap… He knows Wonwoo won’t go against his word.”

“Shit. What are we gonna do?”

“He wants to run away,” You announce.

Seokmin looks at you, and then at the purse hanging from your should and the jacket in your hands.

“And you’re coming with him?”

“I can’t leave him alone, not tonight.”

“And where are you going?”

“I don’t know,”

“And when are you coming back?”

“I don’t know.”

“You are coming back, right?”

“I have no idea, Seokmin,” You realise, but the prospect doesn’t scare you as badly.

He scratches at his head. “Leave through the kitchen, I’ll hold off my dad. Make sure to give me a call once you guys are… I don’t know— Just give a call, will you?”

You nod, pulling him into a hug.

Doing as he instructed, you pass through the kitchen staff and rush through the backdoor, unseen by the guests. Wonwoo is sitting on a concrete bench, his head between his hands.

“Ready?” You call out.

Wonwoo looks up, nodding before he rises to his height. You offer him a comforting smile and reach for his hand.

Once you get hold of his hand, you bolt across the yard toward the parking lot. He almost stumbles over his lanky legs, but catches up rather fast. You throw your stuff on the backseat and enter your car, Wonwoo decides to jump over the door.

You laugh at his antics with a shake of your head.

Once your heels are discarded, you start the engine and drive off, leaving behind that dreaded engagement party. Wonwoo busies himself with shedding his formal wear, throwing his tie on the floor and removing his blazer.

In any other occasion, this could’ve been such a lovely late-night drive, just the two of you in your beloved car, night breeze caressing your faces with her ice-cold kisses, cruising through deserted roads, barely a soul in sight except for the night owls.

And you might allow yourself to enjoy this moment.

The silence isn’t a bother, no, Wonwoo was always a man of comfortable silences to you, but this once, you’re worried about goes on in that busy mind of his.

“You alright?” You ask, looking away from the road to steal a glance or two at him.

“Yeah,” He replies.

“Truly?”

“No,” He scoffs at his own lie. “But I’ll be.”

You nod.

You drive out of town and on the interstate roads for ages until Wonwoo finally speaks up. You’re completely engulfed in darkness except for your headlights.

“We should stop soon and have a rest.”

“Okay,” You nod, “Any preferences?”

“Anywhere.”

And so you tell him to keep his eyes peeled open when a sign on the road says there should be a motel in the next couple KM. It doesn’t take too long before you’re pulling into the parking lot of a roadside motel, much of a far-cry from your expensive hotels and luxury living.

You check in at the front desk with an old man who seems very unhappy with his life, he short of throws the keys your way.

The room is… surprisingly nice, given the circumstances of the ambience. Only problem is the, although quite large, singular bed. You exchange glances.

“Shit,” Wonwoo curses, “I’m gonna

“You wanna get hit?” You joke, “He’s minutes away from killing us over this room. We can just share the bed.”

He looks at you with wide eyes. “I’ll sleep in the tub.”

Oh, he certainly seems to hate the idea of sharing a bed with you, huh.

“Nonu, please, it’s late and we’re both tired. It will be just like when we were kids,” You explain, setting aside your stuff.

Wonwoo nods, sitting on the strangely comfortable bed.

“You think they have robes?” You ask, looking around.

“Wouldn’t bet on it.”

“Oh, I’d kill to get out of this dress,” You whine, running to the bathroom to check for anything you could wear instead of your dress.

He just bites at his lips, watching you pace from side to side in that tiny bedroom.

That’s when you remember your forgotten shopping bags sitting in the trunk! Your compulsive shopping habits just saved you from a very uncomfortable night’s sleep, how convenient!

“I think I have some clothes in my car,” You announce, grabbing the keys and heading toward the door.

“Wait, you’re going by yourself? let me go with you.”

“I don’t wanna lock the door, though,” You whine.

He sighs, “Stay here, I’ll go.”

You jump, “Thank you, Nonu!”

While Wonwoo rummages through your trunk and pulls out the surprising large amount of shopping bags, you shed off your clothes and head toward the bathroom, dying to get some hot water on your body, put on your new PJs and doze off.

When he returns however, he is greeted by a sight any other man would die to see. You’ve left a trail of clothes from the bed toward the bathroom door. Starting on your pretty dress, splayed out over tiled-floor, and then your tights and then your underwear, matching, too—

He clears his throat. “I’m back!”

But you probably don’t hear him through the running shower, so he just sets down the bags and avoid the sight of your clothes. He decides to turn on the tiny TV and browse through any late night re-runs. You take only a couple of minutes in your shower.

“Nonu?” You ask from the bathroom.

“Yeah?” He turns down the TV.

“Did you find the clothes?”

“Yeah.”

“Can you bring me something to wear?” Wonwoo gulps.

“Uh— Which one?”

“There should be a light blue bag and a pink one.”

“Okay—“ He stands up and searches for the aforementioned colours.

Wonwoo heads to the bathroom door and leans against the wall, facing away from the door. He knocks once. You open the door and shove your arm through, reaching for the bags.

“Thank youu!”

He returns to the boring TV. Though all he could think about was the sight of your wet supple skin, knowing you were bare with only a thin sheet of plywood separating you.

You leave the bathroom smelling of cheap soap and fresh into your brand new nightgown. It is tentatively short with an almost see-through round of lace over the hems. In your defence, you weren’t planning on showing this nightgown to anyone anytime soon.

Sitting on the bed, you look around the room, not noticing how Wonwoo’s eyes don’t really meet yours or how red his ears seem to burn.

“Aren’t you gonna shower?” You ask.

“Feels a bit redundant to shower and get back into my dirty clothes.”

“I think I might have something for you, if you don’t want to sleep in a suit,” You pry.

Wonwoo raises an eyebrow, “I’m listening.”

“But you can’t judge! I bought this for my dad because you know he deals very poorly with the heat— And he never buys himself anything!” You’re explaining yourself in advance because you remember very well what you bought.

Silky boxer shorts and a tank top, which your father loved to sleep in on stuffy summer nights but you doubted would be Wonwoo’s first choice of wear, ever.

He haggles with his own mind; give into the silky boxer shorts or sleep in the most uncomfortable outfit ever. With a tired sigh, Wonwoo accepts his fate and grabs the bag.

You smile as he stomps toward the bathroom with a defeated frown.

By the time he returns, you’ve cleaned up your trail of clothes and made yourself very comfortable in the bed. You turn your head to face him.

God, he could make a potato sack look good.

“How’s the fit?” You pull your eyes away before you look for too long.

Wonwoo shrugs, “I’ve had worse.”

You laugh.

He coyly joins you in bed, keeping a large gap between your bodies, settling on top of the covers while you’re under their warmth.

“Ain’t you cold?” You ask, fidgeting with the TV remote.

Wonwoo shakes his head, leaning back into the headboard. With a pout, you cross the figurative bridge between the two of you and reach for him. He doesn’t shy away from your touch but it visibly confused.

“What’s wrong?” He asks, hands hovering in the air, far away from your exposed back.

“I’m sorry your birthday party sucked,” You murmur against his chest, Wonwoo smiles softly, letting his hands rest on you.

“It didn’t suck in its entirety,” he says, palms slightly tapping at your back, “it was fun running away with you.”

You giggle at his comment, heart fluttering at its meaning, “What are we going to do? About the engagement, I mean…”

“We?” He raises an eyebrow.

You pull away from him.

“Well— You dragged me into this!” You slap at his chest and he lets out a boisterous laugh that almost manages to pull the corners of your from into a smile.

“I know, I’m taking the piss out of you,” He extends his arms, pulling you back to your previous position, resuming the soft caresses he leaves on your arms. “I don’t know— This is the first time I’ve ever gone against my father.”

You sigh. “Don’t you wanna marry Suzy?”

There’s a pause and oh, you’re begging, wishing to hear the words you want most.

“Fuck no!” Wonwoo exclaims and you fail to hide your excitement.

“She is pretty,” You throw the bait, to pry at his true feelings.

“So is your sister, should I just marry any pretty girl?”

You raise from your position, eyebrows furrowed into a deep frown. Wonwoo looks at you, completely clueless to his words and its consequences.

“What the hell?!”

“What?”

Kicking off the covers in a flurry, you kneel on the bed, staring at him dead in the eyes. “You have the hots for my sister!”

It’s Wonwoo’s turn to get angry, “What?! No— You’re twisting my words—“

“I’m twisting your words?! You just said you think my sister is pretty!”

“Because she is!”

You jaw drops, you can’t believe he is doubling down. “Wow,” you shake your head.

“What’s wrong with saying that?”

You shrug, turning away from him and crossing your arms. “I don’t know, why don’t you just go an marry my sister, then.”

Only then, does this thick-headed man you love so much realise he has been complimenting other girls without so much as telling you a single nice word — the bare minimum. He sighs and offers you a soft smile, shifting in the bed until he is near you again.

“I don’t want to marry your sister. I think she is pretty, but she’s not the prettiest sister, you are.” He waits for your reaction.

Hook, line and sinker.

You turn around immediately, a hint of smile playing in your pretty lips.

That’s enough for him to break into a wide smile, opening his arms to welcome you back into his warmth. You crash into his chest, wrapping yourself around his torso.

He groans, falling back into the mattress but not letting go of you.

Minutes pass before you speak again. “It’s past midnight…” You whisper.

“It’s well past midnight… Why?”

You shift upwards until your faces are only inches apart, breath tickling his lips, your beautiful eyes gleaming under dim motel lighting. “Happy birthday,” You whisper between smiles, “Make a wish.”

Wonwoo breathes in, eyes scanning your face, “There’s one thing I want…”

“What is it?”

If he said it out loud, he might’ve lost all courage to do so.

So he just does it, Wonwoo leans forward until his lips meet yours in a chaste kiss.

It probably lasted a couple of seconds, but those seconds felt like a lifetime when you were finally kissing the man you’ve loved for god knows how long. There’s a spark of electricity that burns bright from the moment your lips touch and travels through your body, blood boiling in excitement, shyness, and pure love.

When the kiss ends, Wonwoo studies your face, watching for any sign of discomfort. Which is even more worrying when you’re standing there, froze solid with an empty stare.

But thankfully, before he can say anything, you throw caution into the wind.

You pull him into a kiss. Throwing every sense of morale and shame you had out the damn window. He was a man sworn to another, for Pete's sake! But here you here, crashing your lips into his perfect, soft ones.

Wonwoo lets out a quiet groan, almost inaudible, but you hear it, oh yes, you do. And it runs straight through your chest and down to your core.

Although the sensible, rational part of your brain tells you to quit kissing him at once and just apologise, the other 99% of your brain, who’s been in love with him since forever, wants nothing of the sort. And you might have listened to the not-so-rational part of you, because you just deepened the kiss, shifting your weight until you’re partially on top of him.

Your lips move against him, shyly exploring this kiss, engraving every moment into your memory.

Yet he reciprocates. His warm hands finds your waist, holding you flush against his torso, heartbeats thumping completely in-sync. You wrap your arms around his neck and he takes the chance to pull you deeper into those dangerous lips of his. His tongue finds its way into your mouth, licking and twirling against yours, hot and eager.

He dips his head, one hand reaches to tangle into your hair and manoeuvre you around, allowing himself complete freedom to explore every bit of your mouth.

Wonwoo kisses like no other. Not that you had too much of a repertoire to compare him to.

But he consumes your lips with an unbound hunger, nothing similar to the calm and collected Wonwoo you knew, no. He’s hungry, messy, and very clumsy, clashing teeth one too many times, letting saliva drip down your chins and struggling to move with you on top of him.

When you part the kiss, you lay there breathless, gazing into his ridiculously beautiful beady eyes and long eyelashes, his handsome sharp nose and the most kissable lips you’ll ever see.

It was breathtaking, mind-blowing and nothing like you’ve ever felt before. Your heart beats so fast you feel as if you might pass out at any moment but you’d die before you give up experiencing that again.

“What was that?” He whispers and his breath tickle your kiss-swollen lips.

“Your birthday gift,” You bite at your lower lip. “Did you like it?”

Wonwoo smiles, breathless and half-lidded and your heart damn near bursts. “I did. Did you?”

You nod.

He nods. “Wanna do it again?”

You nod and he gives you that stupidly handsome smile of his.

And once again, you’re attached at the lips. This once, nothing like before, which you though impossible. It’s so much more desperate and it burns, it boils your blood in absolute desire. It leaves you light-headed, it wipes away your cognitive thoughts and leaves behind a foggy cloud of barely strung-together words that only translate into wanting more. More of him.

You sigh into the kiss and he drinks it all up, he consumes everything you give him with erratic hands and eager tongue.

Wonwoo leaves your lips and you whine with a breathless sigh of his name, almost chipping at any resolve he had left. But he nips at your neck nonetheless, warm, wet tongue trailing along your skin, making you twitch in his arms with the most delectable little ‘yips’ of surprise.

He bites, feral and determined; determined to make his claim, to leave behind his mark on your body, to indulge in carnal pleasure without a prospect of tomorrow, letting everything else be a construct beyond these motel walls, away from where you laid. Away from this reality where he had you in his hands and you moaned his name with a soft smile.

Practically tearing your nightgown, he pulls the silky fabric just enough until your tits spill out of its confine. Wonwoo sighs at the sight, fingers trailing the contour of your boobs, raising goosebumps along sensitive skin. His eyes are burning in adoration, the most depraved glaze of hunger hidden behind sheer excitement.

He dives in, hands kneading at the flesh, squishing soft skin.

Slender fingers caress your aereolas, running fingernails along your nipples in curiosity, watching you squirm and bite at your lips as your nipples begin to perk up.

And when you thought he was done, Wonwoo attaches his mouth to your nipple, sloppily running his tongue around it before he sucks. He makes sure to let his teeth graze, just to watch you jump.

All while his other hand makes work of your unattended boob, your attention is so thinly divided between his teasing fingers and his hot tongue and the sweetest, most satisfied groans that erupt from his throat.

Your face burns and you bite at the back of your hand, shoving down every stubborn moan that tries to make it past; but he won’t have that, no. Wonwoo reaches for your arms, pinning them above your head without so much as pulling away from your tits.

Mindlessly, you’ve been rocking back and forth against him, chasing a gut feeling you’re unsure of but desire more than anything ever. And without realising, you’ve been teasing him just as much as he has you, which is clear by the volume contained by his shorts.

He wishes he could ravish your breasts all night, but any more of your squirming and he will come undone without so much as a touch from you.

Wonwoo pulls away, hands once against finding your waist as he pulls you back to his chest.

“You know what comes next, don’t you?” He whispers against your lips, half-lidded, lust-filled eyes gazing so deep into your own.

“I— I’ve never done it before,” You confess.

And something stirs within him, to know he is your first, the first and only man to every touch you this way, to trace his lips over your gorgeous body, to settle inside of you.

Wonwoo smiles and kisses your nose, “I don’t care… But only if you don’t care that I haven’t either.”

You’re surprised, to say the least.

Kissing in between smiles, you raise to your knees, letting him tug at the hem of shorts just enough to free his cock.

It’s nothing like you’ve seen before and unlike the illustrations you remember from school. It’s red and veiny and it glistens with pre-cum under the dim lighting.

But it’s a part of him and you can’t help that your belly stirs at the sight of him stroking himself.

When you reach for the hem of your nightgown, his hands stop you.

“Keep it on—“ He whispers.

“Why?”

“We’ve got all night to take it off,” He runs his tongue through his top teeth with a side smirk and you almost smack him up the head for being such a little shit.

As he asked so kindly, you bunch up your nightgown around your waist, hips circling around his warmth, meanwhile he’s playing with the flesh of your love handles, kneading and running his fingers over your skin.

“Ready?”

You nod. He raises your hips and lets you control the pace, you feed in his cock, centimetre by centimetre, feeling it’s girth tear at your walls with an unimaginable sting, it burns hot and heavy in your hands.

Crashing onto his chest, you cry out a pained yelp.

Wonwoo run his fingers over your back, kissing the top of your head, his eyebrows are bunched up, face painted with worry. “We can stop— Let’s stop—“

“No!” you raise your head and he can see the tiny droplets bundling around your eyelashes, “Just gimme a minute!”

So you sit there, his cock half-in, pulsing angry red and throbbing under the tease of warmth and tightness. Especially when you look so breathtakingly gorgeous, he gulps, leaning back against the headboard, urging his mind to be strong.

It takes you minutes to get used to it, to slowly let the size settle until your muscles are well and accustomed to it and then you start it all over again, feeding the remaining inches until he’s bottomed out.

And oh heavens, how utterly full and hot you felt. Despite the stinging pain, part of you wants to chase the pleasure, clenching in sheer hunger.

Wonwoo stares up at you, looking for any signs of discomfort but he is met with the most enticing, beautiful, and tempting creature he’s ever laid his eyes upon. Your eyes are glassy with tears, but you’ve got a determined look on your face with a hint of a smirk that sends shivers down his spine and up his cock.

“Shit,” He curses out with a smile, leaning back and rutting into your hips only to watch your eyebrows furrow and your mouth gape, a moan threatening to escape. “Ready to move, pretty girl?”

You breathe out, “Yeah.”

Steadying yourself against his chest, you raise your hips, feeling his absence leave you upsettingly empty until you let your body crash back down, his cock impaling you with its warmth once again. You rock against him, shallowly, though the motion is unbearably teasing, even for you.

Wonwoo lets out an obscene, strained moan, fingernails digging into your waist, but you’re too focused on rocking your hips to notice. How he wants nothing but to piston his hips into your pussy like there is no tomorrow, he relishes in the feeling of your warmth, tight and gummy around his throbbing member.

And he finds you might be just as insatiable as he is, especially when you’ve found yourself a steady pace, bouncing up and down, and his name pours out of your lips in such a beautiful manner. Though he can’t just let you have all the control, can he?

“Oh—“ You yip, “Feels so— Good—“ Still unsure of your thought, you explore the feeling, rolling your hips, feeling him stretch your wider, fill your insides and leave you full like you’ve never felt before.

His hips meet yours half way, chasing your cunt every time you leave and pounding into you when you come back down, filling the room with guttural groans and the lewd sound of skin against skin.

You run your fingers under his shirt, feeling bare, warm skin, the softness of his flesh against your hands, the definition of his pecs and the way his nipples peek through the fabric. Wonwoo groans at the way your manicured nails scratch at his chest, gathering momentum as you bounce yourself on top of him.

He notices you’ve started moving faster, practically fucking yourself stupid on his cock and he would tease you halfway through tomorrow if he didn’t find himself in such a similar predicament. His pupils are blown wide, eyebrows furrowed across his brow, pretty lips hanging agape. You’re so utterly perfect and you were all his.

“Tell me how you feel, baby,” He whispers, slowing down for a second.

You sigh, nuzzling against his neck, “So good— I can’t even describe it—“ Your words are so airy and mindless, you’ve been consumed by the pleasure he gives you.

He catches the sight of the white rim that pools around his member, a mix of your juices, but it’s gone, sheathed inside you before he can admire it. There’s a poisoning thought that flashes in his mind, a fleeting, tempting picture. Of planting his seed in your womb, watching your grow full with child, his child. How absolutely breathtaking you would look, round cheeks and gorgeous smile, pretty fingers caressing your bump. And he would taint your taut stomach with his cum, watching it drip over your skin.

Wonwoo bites his lips so hard it breaks skin, throwing his head back, willing his mind somewhere else, anything else lest he come undone right then and there.

Stomach tingling with indescribable pleasure, you lean forward, moaning incessantly, unable to contain your ecstasy. He supports your body, wrapping strong arms around your torso, firm hands planted on your hips, taking over the moving so you can lay still and let the buzz consume your body with its electric touch.

It’s a feeling you’ve never felt before, and it crashes over your body in a colossal wave, building up from the pit of your stomach; sending tingles rushing through your boiling blood.

You raise your head, eyes meeting his and it seems he is familiar with this pleasure. His left hand meets your face, caressing your cheek, yet holding you still so he can gaze, he can watch you come undone around him.

Wonwoo watches, unblinking, how your eyebrows furry, your eyes are glossy with tears that cling to your pretty lashes, your lips sit in an enticing pout. Yet you part them, letting out increasingly louder cries of his name.

And you clench around him like there is no tomorrow, egging him on. He thrusts up into you, riding out your orgasm and chasing his over the edge.

He crashes his lips into yours, savouring your hazy kiss, your tired sighs and it doesn’t take long before he’s spurting hot white strings into you, it trickles down him and stains the silk fabric of his boxers.

Soon, he stills all movement except for heavy breathing and the soothing circles he runs over your exposed back.

He kisses your hair. “How do you feel?”

“Good,” You breathe out, “Tired. But good.”

His chest shakes with a soft chuckle, he runs slender fingers along your hairline, fixing any hairs that cling to sweaty skin. “Me too.”

“It felt amazing,” You smile, raising your head to face him. “I’ve never felt anything like it.”

Wonwoo hums.

“I’m glad it was you, Nonu,” You hid your face against his neck in embarrassment at your own mushy words, but Wonwoo feels their extent, hiding the blush of his cheeks.

It doesn’t take long before the post-orgasm haze lulls you into sleep.

And you slept like never before.

The following morning, Wonwoo wakes up to an empty bed. He panics for a second or two, scrambling to look for your belongings, only to find everything is still there.

Calm, he washes himself up and gets dressed to leave. Finally having a moment to digest the previous night’s events.

He had made up his mind, he would confront his father. His future was his to decide on.

Looking for you, Wonwoo reaches the foyer, only to see you leaning against the wall, attached to the payphone. When your eyes meet his, you immediately say your goodbyes, ending the call.

“Who did you call?” Wonwoo crosses his strong arms against his chest and you try to ignore the sight of his muscly forearms peeking from the folded sleeves.

You don’t like his tone. “Seokmin.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Why did you call him?”

“I promised I would,” You shrug.

Wonwoo can’t believe you would call Seokmin out of everyone, especially after you were glued to him last night at the party. “Why him?”

“He’s worried about you, you stupid— Stupid—“ You choke out on any mean names, simply stomping away from him.

Why was Wonwoo being so mean so early in the morning? You thought after the amazing night you spent together things would change between you. Stomping your way back to your room, you grumble under your breath.

While you’re folding your clothes, Wonwoo comes back.

“I’ll talk to my father,” He announces.

Before you can say anything about that, he continues. “We’ll get married— You and I, I mean— ” He clears his throat, “Will you marry me?”

Like a deer in headlights, you’re frozen, staring at him big-eyed with a dopey smile on your lips.

“You’ll marry me?” You question, just in case you’ve tricked yourself into hearing the words you’ve wanted most.

“Yes. And I— I’ll take full responsibility—“

You smile crashes into the ground. “You want to marry me out of… Responsibility?!” The words choke you on their way out.

Wonwoo furrows his eyebrows, not understanding why you would be upset. “Do you not want to?”

“No, I don’t want to fucking marry you!” Not like that.

His face falls and he assumes a much scarier look on his face. “What would you rather marry Seokmin, then?”

And in your fury, you blurt out “Yes! Yes, I would rather marry him!”

You realise your rejection hurt him, you do. But you’re so blindsided by your anger you can’t bring yourself to care, not when he sees you as a responsibility.

Wonwoo is suddenly not so angry, but indifferent. You watch his expression go away, replaced by one much scarier, in your opinion; nothing. A plain poker face.

“Gather your things and go to the car.”

It’s all he says before he leaves the room.

The ride back is the most nerve-racking hours you’ve ever experienced. Wonwoo is silent, even you huff and puff under your breath, angrily chewing on your breakfast of vending machine snacks.

Though he says one phrase as you reach the city. “Leave me here.”

And that’s the last you saw of him for over a month.

Your previous anger dries up, turning into sadness. Then you’re furious. And heartbroken until you’ve accepted your reality. You’ve ruined your friendship and lost the love of your life.

It takes your sister plucking you out of bed for you to finally leave your bedroom in weeks.

She was the first and only person you’ve told about the night spent with Wonwoo. Your parents were absolutely furious that you’d do something so dangerous, though relieved at your safety, they weren’t easy on their words.

“He’s not doing well, you know,” You sister says.

You humph.

“I’m serious. Daddy said he’s clumsy, keeps messing up his work. I think you should go and see him.”

Closing your eyes, you let out a worrisome sigh. You still cared way too much to hear those news and not do something about it.

So you dress up in whatever you can find and drive to his shop, building up a speech on your way there and practising every scenario. You just hoped everything could go back to the way it was.

He’s working on an old model, hunched over the hood in his light blue coveralls, stains of grease from head to toe.

“Knock knock,” You announced your presence, fidgeting with the hem of your dress, looking forward to meeting his eyes as much as you dread to.

Wonwoo immediately recognises your voice, turning around to meet your eyes.

And he looks just as wrecked as you felt. Deep-set eye bags and a tired gaze. Yet he still smiles just as handsomely.

“Hey,” He greets.

“Busy?”

“No! No,” Wonwoo scrambles, placing the wrench down removing his gloves.

“Can we talk?”

“Yeah, I actually— I wanted to talk to you, too.”

It’s somewhat relieving as well at it’s worrying to hear him say that, it could be an apology as well as an insult or something of the sort.

“We should— We should go to my office, someone might come in—“

“Yeah— We should.” You nod.

You walk into his office, one you’ve visited and killed time in quite often. But coming here after everything feels so crushing, all this distance between you.

“Go ahead—“

“You first—“

You both say at the same time and that seems to ease the stubborn awkwardness pooling in the air. You laugh.

“How about we say it together?”

“On 3?”

“1”

“2”

“3”

Breathing in, you say the words that come to your mind from the bottom of your heart.

“I want to marry you.”

“I love you.”

“What?!”

“What?!” Once again, you both say it at the same time.

“You want to marry me?” He breaks into a wide smile.

“And you love me?” The words feel so alien to you, you can barely believe your ears, you feel the tips of your fingers shake in excitement, your heart pounds so strongly against your rib cage you can almost hear the thumping.

Jeon Wonwoo just said he loves you.

“I— Are you sure you want to marry me? You said you didn’t want to!”

“Yes. Well— I’ve loved you since forever! So when you said you wanted to marry me just out of responsibility— I was heartbroken! It’s like you were forced into doing it!”

“I didn’t want to marry you out of responsibility! I’ve been planning to marry you since the beginning—“

You choke, “You what?!”

Wonwoo sighs, “I never wanted to marry your sister and she was well aware of that… We were blessed that she found her husband and when everything went well, I thought— I hoped that it’d mean we’d be the ones to be wed.”

Processing every word, you almost feel dizzy. “But you said you’d take responsibility!”

“For roping you into running away from my party.”

“Oh.” You’re beyond embarrassed for assuming and above all, for getting so angry you didn’t even let him explain himself.

“I should’ve been clearer,” He admits.

“No— I should’ve talked to you.”

Wonwoo smiles. “Thank you.”

With tiny tears threatening to fall, you can only confirm what you want to know the most.

“You love me?”

“Always,” He smiles.

Wonwoo seems to remember something, he raises his finger in a “wait” motion and leans over his desk, reaching for the top drawer. It’s only when you catch a peek of the velvet box that you almost keel over.

Gulping, he gathers his courage.

In his grease-stained coveralls that smells of expensive cologne and lavender cleaning supplies, Jeon Wonwoo gets down on one knee, nervously looking up at your with his stupidly gorgeous beady eyes and an expectant smile.

“Will you marry me?”

And in your least presentable dress, the one he’d ruined with grease stains and an unruly hairdo, you respond with the biggest smile:

“Yes. Yes, I’ll marry you.”

Had you been questioned, there would be an answer to just how long you will love Jeon Wonwoo.

You’ll love him forever.

1K notes · View notes

friendlyneighborhoods-spiderman · 1 year

Text

The forgotten child

Pairing's : fem! reader x peter parker, tony stark daughter! x tony stark, tony stark daughter! x peter parker

Warnings: really sad angst, jealousy, daddy issues, neglect, lmk if i missed anything! :)

Summary: dad of the year award? surely isn't going too him

a/n : I know the gif doesn't really match the theme of this story I just really liked it. I did not reread this so please ignore any grammar mistakes. Also, I'm not sure if i wrote a panic attack correctly but I wrote based on what their like for me. hope you all enjoy!

you really tried not to become the forgotten child, always tried you're very hardest to live up to your father expectations, trying to make him proud in hope's he'd show some form of attention.

always studying to get straight a's even through countless anxiety attacks from fear of failing and disappointing your father.

all you ever wanted was reassurance, and if you ever got lucky enough a "You did a good job" after getting a high score on a test.

but it never came, it would forever be something you longed to hear. he would usually just mumble a small, quiet "congrats" as his mind stayed focused on his work and his eyes stuck to the blueprint laid out on the table Infront of him.

you always tried you're best not to feel jealous whenever your father held morgan, you had no ressentiment towards morgan whatsoever, in fact she was the one that kept you smiling most days. although you couldn't help but feel your heart tighten from jealousy as you watched them have daddy daughter time

you really did try you're best to be happy for your younger sister, but you couldn't ignore that aching feeling. all you wanted was the attention she had that your heart ached so desperately for, but it never came despite your countless attempts.

you we're astound to hear a new avenger had been recruited, you always enjoyed meeting new people. mainly because they gave you attention they didn't even know you craved.

you always seeked to see the best in people, no matter what the circumstances we're. including peter parker, there was nothing wrong with him, he wasn't a bad person in fact quite a good one, and if you weren't so envious of him you possibly could have been friends with the boy. but you watched how peter and your father clicked so easily becoming like father and son.

it made the knots in your stomach tighten as you watched them spend time together, it made you feel as if something was wrong with you, like maybe if you tried harder or changed, he'd give you the attention you deserved.

your mother, pepper always said he loved you just as much as he loved morgan or even peter, but you knew the truth as much as you ignored it you knew. but oh, how you wish he did.

"Mom, I'm home" you called out knowing if father was home, he wouldn't answer you. after not receiving an answer, you decided to look through the house in search of your mother, after a couple of minutes searching you still hadn't found her and decided she probably went out and took morgan with her. you heard talking but it sounded like your father, and peter?? "what's peter doing here?" you wondered. you decided to peak you're head through the door and saw peter and tony standing with their backs faced away from you, working on some upgrades for peter's suit.

"you're a pretty great kid peter" tony told him as he smiled at him patting his shoulder. a wave of jealously hit your chest as you watched them, your throat tightening. "Thank you, Mr. stark," peter smiled cheekily as your fingers clenched into a fist at your side.

"Becoming like my son."

once those words left Tony's lips, your mouth went dry, your head aching as you backed away from the door as quietly as possible, you're breathing picking up rapidly. you quickly made your way to your room, tears forming in your eyes, you walked into your room and shut the door softly as your hands started shaking as you paced around your room quickly, trying to stop the tears from rolling down your cheeks. you never liked crying, it made you feel weak.

you're breathing came out in heavy gasp as you struggled to breathe. you leaned against the wall coughing as you squeezed your eyes shut as you tried to stop the words from replaying in your mind.

"Becoming like my son" continuously echoed through your head as soft sobs left your lips, you didn't want to feel this way, envious of what your father and peter had. it's not peter's fault about what your father feels about you so why hold him accountable. he'll never love you, at least not like he loves peter. you can't figure out why? you always tried you're best to impress him, but nothing seemed to be enough for him, it's like he didn't even care about your existence.

you stumbled over to your bed, taking deep breathes as your body grew exhausted from crying. you plopped down on your bed tiredly as you snuggled up against your blanket that was where your pillows we're supposed to be, you grabbed a pillow and hugged it too sleep.

you didn't want to put the blame on peter because it wasn't his fault, but a little piece of your heart blamed peter parker.

a/n: CLIFFHANGER!?!? I decided to leave it for now because I haven't come up with an ending that I thought fit the way I wanted so if you guys have ideas, please let me know. reblog's are highly appreciated, thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed!

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leclsrc · 10 months

Text

decent incentives ✴︎ cl16, mv1

genre: this is. Smut, porn W plot, threesome, driver reader

word count: 6.9k

Max can’t even feel his feet on the hardwood floors because you’re on your bed, spread out, wearing one of Charles’ sweaters, two fingers at the apex of your thighs. Or: You’ve been a brat, and only two people know how to mellow you out. title from this

auds here… hi hi hi! scanned my reqs last week, found a max/charles threesome one, and wrote this out in half a day after a friend showed me the challengers trailer (i love tennis and it drove me to write abt a sport that was not, in fact, tennis) also i truly cannot explain the phenomenon behind me finding smut/these kinds of works easier to suss out these days (long form fic i talked abt in the last drabble is not this one fyi) but it’s just ???? like i don’t… i’ve no clue. i hope u enjoy this anyway!!!! love auds :)

nsfw warnings under the cut!

18+ because... penetrative sex, double penetration, sexual tension, masturbation (f), teasing, praise central, reader is a MASSIVE brat, size kink, dirty talk, i don’t want to say brat taming but kinda kinda

Your first time in Max Verstappen’s hotel room happened after a tiring night of media and press, where you spent hours together smoking to calm yourselves down. You’d almost been caught by a manager, stepping on your sticks as soon as the back door swung open and your names were called out to do another interview. This was with ESPN, if you remember right. There’d been a muddled chaos of journalism in the venue, all the jumbled mess of the same questions. As young as you both are, do you feel intimidated by success?

It didn’t—and still doesn’t—help, you suppose, that both you and Max had stared, tight-lipped and deflated brows, and stated, with finality: no.

The afternoon stretched into an entire night, and by the time the clock ticked nine and everything had formally wrapped up, Max mustered up the courage and a half it took to invite you to his hotel room for a cig and half a Cuervo divided into three shots each. The conversation had progressed as he drove, the continuation of an otherwise unorthodox friendship between a Red Bull and Mercedes driver—a fact you’d both acknowledged but opted to ignore.

Drivers are friends all the time, you figure—you’re close with few drivers—but none of them are Max. You had made the lousy small talk, commented on how different the pre- and post-race processes have become since your entrance in 2018, which, back then, had seemed like forever ago. “It would seem like forever to a world champion,” he’d said, and his voice is all teasing and raspy and scruffed up. You had laughed, a scoffy little noise, and told him to shut up.

He obeyed, for two seconds, then added, “Do you mind if we meet someone there?”

The hotel room was what you might expect a high-level athlete to be bestowed with, wide and huge but not as wide and not as huge as yours a few streets over. There’d been a thing of cologne left uncapped on the table by the door, Adidas shoes on the floor next to Nikes, and then a low table housing a still smoking joint that left the entire living room smelling like grass.

Somehow, Max had managed to turn a neutral, sterile hotel room into a boy’s room. The scent of weed mixed with Tom Ford cologne. The rap music blending into the open balcony’s traffic noise. The socks on the floor, two pairs, both white. It’s a strenuous effort, you’d thought—and you were beginning to think this wasn’t the work of Max alone. “We have a guest,” he’d hollered when he managed to fiddle with the key card properly enough to leave the door alone.

No one had answered, or surfaced from the hallway leading to the bedroom and bathroom, so you followed Max into the bar area. Bottles of booze in varying states of empty, lemon slices and salt now cold—“Do you not call housekeeping?” You’d asked, amusement concealing curiosity as you accepted a poured-out shot. He said they do—they—and sometimes hotel staff are just a bunch of pricks. He asked more questions. How it felt to win at twenty-one, how it felt to be driving, to be the youngest winner, the first female driver.

Ask me something I don’t hear fucking journalists say all the time, you’d replied back, half-jokingly. The August air nipped at your cheeks, chilling your warm face. He’d laughed, and explained that he re-asked the questions in case you have a more honest answer to give him. The most honesty you could offer is that you’d grown to hate your reputation because it precedes your skill. It’d been silent for a bit then, just the scent of the unclaimed weed. Then Max went, We have a new friend.

You turned to see who he was talking to. Charles was at the doorway, eyes on you already, raising a hand to say a silent hello. “H…” He trailed off. “Hey.”

He was shirtless, Calvins tight on his legs, his free hand scratching absently at his abs. Behind you, you had faintly picked up on Max introducing you and Charles rolled his eyes before replying, clipped, I know who she is, wiseass. He’d taken the weed and almost left, but you spoke next.

“Want to come sit?”

He paused, turned, and blinked. “I’m alright,” he rejected. “We have a meeting tomorrow, don’t forget.”

Then he was back in the bedroom area, leaving behind him a trail of grassy smoke. He was clearly rugged and fresh from sleep, the delicious sleep athletes have all grown familiar with: post-race, overcome with a terrible exhaustion. You’d only ever exchanged a few words with either of these two, and the fact that you were alone with them sent a warm, drawling thrill up your spine.

You were two and a half shots in when Charles reappeared, sans weed. “Any left for me?”

—

If you grouped the grid into years, you would be with Max and Charles—on the younger end, still at the ripe years of your careers. You entered first, though, then Max, thenCharles, which meant you were connected to, and friends with, relatively different people on the paddock. But the 2020 season and your many close calls with Max began the media and manager tirade of constantly lumping you and Max into the same interviews, press conferences, and media days, to maybe somehow elicit a bit of drama out (a tireless and unrelenting effort).

That’s how the rumors started. The rumor that permeates you most is one that asks about you, Max, and Charles. Some say you dated one then the other (a homie hopper, they’d branded you in 2021), others say they dated each other and you butted in. All of them were woefully untrue, in the same way all had some ring of truth to them.

And you suppose that’s what hotwired the beginning of your nights spent at Max’s hotel room, where Charles would nearly always be camped out, then eventually vice versa (Charles’ room, Max camping out; your room, solo, housing them for one night), drinking and/or smoking and/or playing some form of cards. And you suppose again that it was all this that radiated into everything else, all your wins and successes and bad days and near crashes, that just caused the entire universe to topple over, into itself, and creep up onto the three of you in Bahrain that year.

But that year is three years ago, and if you try to detail every last divot of it, you’re going to wind up rubbing a migraine out of your head. And you’re not interested in developing a headache—not when you’re celebrating the fifth race of the 2023 season.

It’s your fourth win this season. It’s all anybody ever talks about, how you had gone and secured a third championship for yourself last year, and how you’re gunning for four, the greatest the sport has seen in years. It’s all anyone can repeat and echo—you’re a fucking legend!—and you know from experience that praise does more than the most dangerous cocktail of drugs to get you high.

The afterparty is full and obnoxiously loud, dark and smoky and low-visibility. You’re wearing a flimsy dress and running a hand through your hair while you nurse a drink, feeling drunk on compliments and confused with certain absences. You can feel the bass through the tiled floor, heels clicking on it as you search, search, and come up short. Neither Max nor Charles have sent you a text, a play they always perform to break a routine you’ve become familiar with. You frown. Hey, somebody says next to you, you’re better than anyone else on the grid right now! You thank them, thinking to yourself—where the fuck is anyone else on the grid anyway? The relevant people, at least?

Half an hour later, you’ve ditched the party and are pounding with your fists at Max’s hotel room door in an effort to get them to open it quicker, after your knuckles didn’t seem to do the work well enough. You half—no, mostly—expect Charles to be the one who pulls it open. He’s more prudent. He gives in easier. He’s nicer and he can spare a thought for the other people on this floor (but the price of this room means there barely are).

“What.” His voice is gritty.

“You told me you would come tonight.” Your voice is steady—you’d chosen not to drink much, and what little you consumed wore off on the ride here. Even with your heels on and even in sleepiness, you notice his presence towers over yours. “You both said.”

“We were tired.”

You scoff and gently push past him into the room, where evidence of their existence rags the furniture. “Every hotel room you ever stay in is turned into a fucking frat house.” Beer bottles, cigs, gifts from fans stored with precarious care but peeking out from suitcases.

“We were sleeping. I am sleepy,” he says behind you, unamused by your sudden appearance. He shuts the door and stands still, looking as disappointed as he can. It’s unlike him. You’re buying time to find out what the problem is.

“Okay, I’ll go,” you say, relenting, running a few fingers over the mess of clothes strewn atop the armrest of the couch. “My driver’s downstairs, anyway. I wanted you there tonight, though.” You look up, meet his eyes. Tired and green and fed up. “Both of you. We could’ve celebrated.”

He pulls his lips tight and stands straighter. “I know, I know.” He softens a little. “I’m sorry, okay? Desolé. Just… tired.” You know he’s tired because his team is shit, and you know it has nothing to do with you, but you’re so wrapped up with everything that your irritance fails to quell.

“Where’s Max?” You ask roughly instead, thumbing at the strap of your minidress. He gestures to the bedroom. You’re quiet but stormy when you walk in, finding him, messy hair and tired eyes notwithstanding, fully awake, unlike what his roomie has been telling you since you arrived; you scoff out loud again. Des-fucking-picable. You sit yourself on the couch, crossing your legs petulantly.

They both stare. They’re mad, it occurs to you, which is weird because they had you in between them on that same bed less than forty-eight hours ago. You’d come thrice and begged for more, but they laughed and said you all needed sleep to get up for race prep. Race prep. Race prep.

“Okay, then.” You throw two hands up in a semi-shrug. “Let’s have it. What’s the matter? No use lying.”

They both look irritated. “Nothing,” Max says.

“Fuck nothing.” You trail a hand over the hem of your dress. “You’re pissed with me, but I didn’t do shit.” You try to rerack the race, but you hadn’t so much as collided with them in the slightest, apart from overtaking them a few times, but they weren’t man children to whine over that. You’d shared the podium with Charles, for Chrissake.

“You’re right. You just went and…” Charles blows a raspberry and makes an explosion gesture, opening his clenched fist. “Shat on us in your post-race interview.”

And there it is.

You huff out a laugh, momentarily losing control over speech, and it’s caught in between itself and a sigh, a breathy noise that makes waves in the quiet room. Okay, you think. I get it. Your eyes flit in-between the two men across you, your shoulders straight and eyebrows raised, posing a challenge. “What, are you jealous?”

They’re silent. And you know silence always means—

Your eyes relax, smug and a little teasing as you elaborate. “Because you know I’m better than both of you?”

—Yes.

Their silence is redeeming and rewarding and permissive and it speaks volumes louder than if they’d actually admitted to it. You stare back at them, eyes narrowed, amused, coy. You’d been joking around in your Sky Sports interview. Sure, you’re a bit of a tease, especially on the high of a win. But they should know that by now.

You know it annoys them more to leave the door wide open as you leave, than to slam it closed.

—

“Will you draw me a tattoo?!”

“I’d love to, but you are going to regret it,” Charles laughs, signing his name off with a heart on the frenzied fan’s outstretched cap. The busy, busy practice day had now worn into night, though nothing seems to be taking his mind off the fact that you’ve been giving him and Max the cold shoulder since last week. And he knows it’s stupid, he knows he and Max were being irrational and pissy—him especially—but now he just finds himself needing to apologize before anything becomes worse.

But his priority is getting to your hotel, which now seems like the journey of his lifetime. His bodyguard is a bulldozer and grips his elbow to traverse them through the sea of people who cheer him on, go Charles have faith in Ferrari and yeah, that’s been getting more and more difficult as the races pass without much good progress. There are flashes all around, noise and laughing and whoops and gifts he tries to receive, but he just—he needs to get to your hotel. Preoccupied, he remembers where he’d seen Max last, just seconds before leaving the paddock for the evening.

You spend a lot of time with a certain pair Ferrari and Mercedes drivers, says the interviewer in Dutch. Charles squints at the subtitles and waits for Max’s reaction.

He’s in the passenger seat, being driven around for a change, and maybe he’s a pessimist and he misses you and Max, or maybe the city he’s in is just. Dreary, so he opts to stare at his phone like every other person. The clip’s been posted by a fan on Twitter, and the caption is something jokey—something about a dream threesome. He can’t help but laugh as he watches. We are close, us three, Max says, nodding. In fact I will be meeting them later.

The media’s always speculated, rumors born out of a few close calls outside clubs where you’re tipsy and giggly and getting into one car. The fans, funny as ever, also make some fun of it—posting pictures of you three captioned with something like polyamory is real or her and the guys she told you not to worry about, but God if any of them knew the real picture, the whole three years of it, all the sex and hickeys and rumors.

He scrolls a bit more. There are a few photos of you leaving the paddock, hand poised atop your face to shield it from the paps. You get loads more of them wherever you are, loads morecompared to anybody else on the grid. You always attract the media, the press. He finds a picture with your face in it, smiling at your result during FP2. Fuck. You’re pretty, hair damp with sweat, lips stretched into a proud grin, suited hand raising a thumbs up.

“Where to?” The driver beside him asks suddenly.

—

“Fairmont,” Max says to his assistant as he pulls out of parking. “I’m hanging up, doei.” He presses the red button and sighs, shutting his eyes and driving the steady, increasingly familiar routes of the city. He’d called you this morning but you didn’t pick up. Last night he’d slept restlessly, which was no different from the nights before, anyway.

He gets to the valet parking of your hotel when purple is just settling into blackness in the sky, the beginnings of a civil discussion at the tip of his tongue as he exits the elevator and finds your room, opening it and finding it unlocked already. Charles must have done the brunt of it, or maybe you’d gotten an assistant of an assistant to pass an extra keycard to him. You always plan around them, thinking ahead. Both on and off track.

Like the hotel rooms he and Charles share or camp out at, your existence is terribly visible. Unlike them, though, it manifests differently.

It smells like your perfume, the pink bottle he’d found you spritzing on once, and everything is neat and tidy and gorgeous. A vase of white peonies on the low table, lipstick on the table by the mirror, even the pack of cigarettes you barely smoke is pretty and unassuming on the sofa. The only thing amiss—a pair of men’s shoes, those ones with stars on them that you bought Charles on a spur-of-the-moment shopping trip. He toes off his own beside them, eyes the alignment, and fixes it lest you scold them for it later.

Anyway. It smells like you. That’s the only thing he cares about right now. It hits him like a tidal wave, after being ignored the whole week and then some. Your perfume, your favorite linen spray—that black and white glass bottle you carry around like a rosary—your favorite lip balm, even. He swears he smells the vanilla, can recall the taste of it from kissing you ditzy.

It’s beginning to rain—it had been drizzling already, en route here—and the noise pelts the windows, an accompaniment to his footsteps down the hall. He’s familiar with the layout of a penthouse suite, but still he tries out the WC door, and then the closet with the ironing board, before finally he figures the bedroom should be at the end of the hall.

He’s reciting it. I’m sorry. Would you stop being a brat? No. No, just say you’re sorry and then he’s standing at the ajar door of your bedroom, pushing it open, and he can’t feel anything. The words have evaporated. So have his warm little sentimental feelings, and so the annoyance he’d come busting in with.

Max can’t even feel his feet on the hardwood floors because you’re on your bed, spread out, wearing one of Charles’ sweaters, two fingers at the apex of your thighs.

He opens his mouth but nothing leaves. His eyes find Charles, standing by the door, propped against the desk, arms crossed and fingers digging into his biceps. Max looks at you again. You have a pretty flush high on your cheeks, a slight sheen of sweat on your exposed collar. He blinks and realizes you’ve been talking.

“I said, you can sit the fuck down.” There’s a couch to his left.

He pulls himself together and stays beside Charles. “I’m good here, thanks.”

You eye the two of them. They look like stupid twins in the same way they look like Republican husbands. You roll your eyes and allow it; anyway, you’re not in the mood to order either of them around too much.

Charles has been watching you for a while now, watched you fake moans and exaggerate whines, feigning pleasure over two of your fingers. It’s almost laughable—he’d allowed a smile, in fact, because he knows better. Once, he’d pulled your hair so hard you teared up, nodding, hand at his wrist, whimpering more, harder, do it. Another time, he and Max had gotten you all riled up and edged for half an hour, so riled that all you could mutter out were please and their names when they finally stuffed you full. You’re evidently playing your games again. You love to play around with them. It’s almost—you could almost call it a hobby.

“I’m not going to stop just ‘cause you’re both here.” Your hand moves, two fingers fucking into yourself, pink lace pushed aside. Your cunt is so pretty, they’re both thinking. “Did you think I would?” When silence greets you, you decide to address them directly. “Max. Did you?”

His voice is thin and tight when he responds, “Yeah, actually—so we could suss this out, at least.”

Your laugh is patronizing. “I prefer it this way. And you know what?”

Max stares. Charles has already been told this, several minutes ago when he found you in the exact same position. It’s not any easier for him to hear it again, chaste and sweet out of your lips. You can’t touch me.

See, they would’ve been content without touching you, if they sit and think about it. Max didn’t walk in here thinking he’d even be kissing you, and he knows Charles thinks the same thing. Maybe touch you—innocently, that kind of way. Sure, they’d been pent up, heady with arousal, but that came second to talking things out. But now you’ve told them they can’t touch, and that’s worsened them to their limit. Charles imagines touching you, the same touch he gives when it’s post-race and he gets you alone, to himself, nobody else’s, quick fucks in a dim closet, whispering some dirty shit in your ear and getting you like putty in his hands.

Max thinks of nearly the same thing. Imagines running his hand over your hair, gentle but firm, the same way he does when he knocks at your hotel room after hours and gets you from high-strung and bratty to begging for more. You notice their eyes, darkened; you realize their minds have wandered. So, they watch hopelessly as the smirk spreads prettily across your flushed face, and they remember the events of a week prior, when childishly, they’d acted out, and think, for a second, that maybe they deserve this.

You all know what it’s like to keep them from touching you.

It was both easier and worse then, in 2020 when everything started—when everything was brand new and thrilling and exciting. Easier, because they were satisfied as soon as they got you to come, maybe kiss them both, and they were content with slow exploration. Worse, because you were all insatiable. It felt like none of you could go minutes without some form of touch, during, in-between, after practice, quali, fuck—it was worse, much worse.

As you all grew older and got accustomed to the drivel of racing, you all got better. It didn’t get much easier.

Charles recalls how insatiable he was—and thinks, with amusement almost, that if he was insatiable then, he’s worse now. Now he knows where, how, for how long to touch you to get you wide-eyed and warm in the face even in the most serious of moments. Max, too. He knows how you taste, bend, tease. They love touching you. Just skin to skin. And you’ve gone and put a great big X mark over that.

“So,” Max says, voice flat, the way it is when he’s unamused with a reporter, “we’re in a time out.”

“You can call it that,” you giggle, and it segues into a huffy whimper when you angle your hand just right. “You were acting childish, anyway.”

Charles sighs, long and deep. “We—fuck.” His eyes can’t unglue themselves from your fingers. He knows he could make you feel so much better, fuck real moans out of you until you’re crying. “We were being childish, oui, and it was—we were just tense. I was unhappy with strategy. I could’ve been P2 but they pitted me at the worst time, putain. I took it out on you, and I’m… I was… I was worn out, and you called us childish in your interview.”

Ever the minx, you only smile. You’d been joking, you clarified that a day later; it was crass, spurred on by team radios of the two of them complaining in the latter half of the race. “It was a joke, Charles.”

“I know, baby, I know.” His lip curls and he breathes steadily, controlling himself. “It was unprompted though. You weren’t even asked about us. And yeah, a joke—but it felt shitty, love. I don’t mind it—we don’t mind it, but—” He needs to think about the phrasing, think about his intentions.

Your eyes are on fire, clearly still angry, but steadily softening.

“But in moderation,” comes Max’s raspy voice. “You’re running your mouth a lot in the media.”

“You’re one to—ah—talk,” you huff back, a futile argument.

“You need to understand that—that when you’re giddy, or angry, you can’t keep turning to interviews to express all that out. You need to sit with it. Just because we’re not…” your boyfriends, Max almost says, “…yours, doesn’t mean you can shit on us then expect us to be okay with it a few hours later. It’s a thing you do. A game you play. And it’s nice, it was nice then, but it’s annoying now, and it’s almost, like, do you even want this to keep going? To work—?”

You recoil. “You seriously think I don’t want th—”

Charles cuts in. “Well, when you play at us like this, yeah. Put in the work. If you’re high off a win, or mad for some other reason, just let it happen. Don’t fucking.” He exhales. “Call us names, then show up at our hotel acting like an angel.”

They’ve always looked out for you like this, known when to scold you or put you in your place for doing too much or not doing enough. They’ve never let personal things cross too much with business, which is a blessing of an ability when you’re three people having regular sex while balancing a ludicrous athletic career. It’s all sussed down to stupid ‘I care for you’ stuff that, frankly, they’re both too horny and angry to get into the grit of right now.

They don’t realize how quiet the room has grown until you eke out a noise, a thoughtful sound of agreement. You’ve pulled your fingers out, both hands playing with a loose thread on the hem of the sweater, rolling it into a ball. Your hair falls in waves. There’s a crease in it from the ponytail you wear when driving.

Your expression is still murderous, but much softer now; you cough, “I—I get what you’re saying. And I know I play… I have these games, or—but, honestly, I could say the same to you both.” You stutter through your totally shit explanation.

“How do you… mean,” deadpans Max.

“I mean, when I’m acting out, you two just take it.” Having them at your mercy like that is satisfying in its own right, but pragmatically, it’s unhealthy. “You don’t ever tell me off. Even now. I need you to tell me… to fucking,” you’re warm and spluttery now. “Fuck's sake, okay? I know I can be annoying. I know I say stupid shit when I don’t finish and I’m way less diplomatic than Mr. Il Predestinato,” you breathe. “But you two just let me be annoying!”

“Then don’t be annoying,” Charles says, diplomatic as ever—his voice rises, though, nearly matching yours.

“Not like that!” You huff, folding your legs and sitting straighter, and they catch a glimpse of your pink panties again. “When I’m out of line, you”—you point to them—“need to correct me.” They’re nearly blindsided by your request to… be told what to do, which is so different from how sex usually works. From how this whole dynamic usually works.

But Max remembers your manager, and Toto, and your teammate Lewis even, and your engineers, who have all, at one point or another, had to talk you down and tell you to calm down and correct your behavior. So he says, “People do that all the time, but it only works for a second.”

“Because th—” You suck in a lungful of air. “They’re not you two, you daft fuckers!” You’re at the centre of the bed now, sweater drooped over your folded thighs, eyes matching the rain outside. “Every time, I need to be talked down, and you never. Do it. So do it. Fucking—do it. I have to tell you everything.”

“You don’t—-”

“Oh, I do.” You say, folding your arms over your chest.

“This is despicable,” Max says. “We need to sort this out properly.”

“So what? This isn’t”—you raise violent air quotes—“putting in the work?”

They glance at each other for a minute. They feel you thinking you’re winning, thinking they’ll grovel and say okay we’ll do that next time, can we fuck you? Like all the other semi-resolved fights before. You’re sitting straight, eyebrows raised, defiant. But for them to do that—you just said it wasn’t what you needed.

And they’d have to be caught dead before not giving you what you need. If you want to be bossed around a bit, then they’ll do it.

“Sit down,” Charles goes. Unmoving.

“What.” You’re deadpanning, eyes narrowed.

“Sit the fuck down,” he repeats. You open your mouth, but he’s quicker. “Don’t make me say it again.”

You pout, leaning against the headboard and unfolding your legs. He rounds the room, sits at the foot of the bed. It’s a big bed, so even if he’s on it, he still needs to reach over a bit to be able to touch you. The distance is good, though, keeps them in control. Max sits opposite him, both of them on either side of you, and they’re so close, so scrutinizing, so handsome.

“Put your fingers in your mouth,” he says. You take a second, spreading your knees and obeying. You find a way, though, to make their little challenge all your own—you make a show of it, peeking your tongue out and licking your bottom lip all shiny before hollowing your cheeks. You stare at them the whole time and you don’t blink. It’s hotter than it has any right to be. “Suck on them.” You continue doing it, lips slightly curled.

“You’re a brat.” You try to conceal the whimper that leaves you but it fails pathetically. Charles presses on. “A spoiled brat.”

He’s the nicer of the two. Your whole threesome situation had began three years ago, and in almost every tryst since then, he’s been nice. In fact, if any of them were to ever ‘tell you off’ like you so desperately wanted, apparently, it would have definitely been Max. He’s firm, yeah, but he’s sweet. And he’d hate to boss you around too much, even if it’s something he wants. So he thinks, and he pretends he’s back to quali day of last week. It was a slow morning because of weather problems, so everyone was in a mood, and you were absolutely no exception. You come off as quiet to the public and to some of the grid, but to your friends, you’re anything but.

In an effort to lift the mood, you’d been mouthing off the entire day to your close circle of driver friends, in particular retelling the story of how you had teased Charles post-DNF in Saudi, and even gotten Lando to laugh about it at the time. What a season starter, you said when you were recounting it. You left out a detail: that night in Saudi, he’d fucked you and refused to let you cum, soaking your pillow with tears and goading a sobbed apology out of you.

Watching you joke about it again, even if it was a fucking joke and even if it was because you were mad at him and Max—got him all red hot, pissed off. Seething.

“Do you remember last race weekend when you joked about my DNF in Saudi?”

Cheeks hollowed, you nod.

“Fucking brat. That whole day. Ignoring me, ignoring Max. Didn’t listen to our apologies. Just noise all day.”

Your brows knit defiantly.

“I’m serious. You weren’t being funny. Just a brat. And if you were bored or pissed, you could’ve said so instead of making me look stupid.” You nod.

He glimpses at Max; the latter speaks next. “Open yourself up.”

You spread your legs out farther and sneak your spit-slick fingers down, pushing the flimsy material aside to rub at your cunt, two fingers sliding right back in. You breathe out shakily and wait for them to talk again. You’re still fussy, high-strung, not totally calm and mellowed down yet.

“When Charles and I aren’t here to fuck you into behaving, who’s going to make sure you’re acting proper?”

“Carlos,” you grit out in between thrusts.

They seethe. “Again,” Charles says, unamused.

“Nat,” you name your manager. “Lewis, or something. Fuck. Lando? I don’t—”

You asked to be told what to do, but you never said, they suppose, that it would be an easy job. “Guess again.”

“Toto.” You look delighted at that last one, knowing the implication. They’ve always been a bit jealous there. You thrive off disobedience, getting your two favorite boys all angry and flushed red with it. You open your mouth to try smartassing your way out of their orders, but Max beats you to it. “If you guess wrong, you’re not cumming. We’ll fuck you tonight, but no cumming.”

You whimper out loud, sinking your fingers farther in, adding a third.

“Don’t add another. Answer Max,” Charles says.

“Fuck,” you seethe, slipping the third out on your next thrust. “Me. I’m supposed to keep myself in check. When I’m mad. When I’m giddy and fuck—yeah. Me. It’s me.”

“Good girl,” he rasps out. “Good girl. You have to practice. How does it feel?”

I know, you mouth, eyes fluttering. You scissor the two fingers you’re thrusting in and out, wet with slick. “Feels good.”

“Not your fingers, love,” Max says. “How’s it feel hearing what we just told you?”

“Good, better,” you say in-between breaths. “I’ll practice. I like it. You’re not… letting me push you around. You’re—you can punish—fuck. Me.”

“Yeah? How, then?”

“Fuck me,” you repeat breathlessly. “Both of you.”

“Add another,” Charles orders, and you nod, quick and pliant, fucking yourself open. They’re both so hard, cocks heavy and uncomfortable in their jeans. You can see the thick shapes of them through the denim, and you thrust harder, a futile attempt to replicate how it feels when they’re fucking you.

“You remember how it feels, having both of us in you?” Max sounds amused.

“Yes,” you moan. Your pathetic imitation of moans and gasps earlier pales in comparison to this, voice dry and thick with pleasure and raw desperation. “Yes, pl—fuck, yes.”

“Why aren’t you feeling it now?” They need to hear you verbalize the reason why, admit it one last time before they give you what you want. You whine, rutting your hips up against your hand, catching your clit on the heel of your palm.

“Because I was being a brat, and I—you were being childish, but I didn’t want to talk things through either—and I’m always taking out my emotions on you guys, and I’m sorry, okay, would you just fuck me already?”

They’re on you immediately, all words and whispers, fingers at your chin turning you both ways to slot kisses on your mouth. Your free hand palms over Max’s bulge; he’s the one to your right. It’s hard and thick and heavy and you need it, need them. Charles’ hand takes over yours, thrusting deep and you’re whimpering into his sweet mouth.

“Feel my cock?” Max asks, “Could make you feel real nice, baby.”

“I know,” you sigh, breathless. “I want it.”

“When's the last time you took us both?” Charles asks, smile wicked. “Little thing like you.”

You grit out a moan, fuzzy and floating, letting them lift you up to straddle—one of them—you open your eyes and see Charles staring up at you, wonder and green eyes. “Got this, love?” You nod, yeah, I’ve got it, you say, little sighs. Both of you. Now.

This space you’re in, where it’s pleasure and fuzz and nothing else, is comparable to the high of winning. And you know you prefer that to sex, at least now, because racing is your life. It’s the slow satisfaction of being the best on the entire grid, despite everything. It’s the cheers, the raised fists when you climb atop your car and bring the crowd to a crescendo. The even louder screams when you pull your helmet and balaclava off and smile, trophy and all, champagne shiny and glowy on your face. All that shit—it’s addictive, and it feels just like this. So similar, in fact, because when you win, you finish on top of Charles and Max, and—

—Max is behind you, jeans tugged just enough for his cock to be pulled free, slick with lube and prodding at your ass—

—it feels just fucking like this.

“Like Max’s cock filling you up?” His cockhead is breaching your tight entrance and you moan out loud.

“I missed it,” you say, muffled by Charles’ free thumb at your lips, swirling it on your tongue. You flip him off for cutting you off and he laughs. “Give it t’me,” you goad, turning slightly. You want it so bad, missed being fed with their cocks. A week is too long. “I need more of it, all of it. In me, fill me up,” you beg, whimpering, desperate.

Max stares at your ass, grabs at the flesh there, at the string of your thong. You suck him in so hungrily, like you’re challenging him to not thrust in fully; you’re canting your hips backward too, and Max has to hike the too-big sweater up to watch the muscles of your back flex to meet his dick.

“So pretty, princess,” Charles says, because with them you really are a princess. Max begins to thrust into you from behind and you’re getting little moans fucked out of you, watching Charles unbuckle his jeans to tug his cock out, thick and pretty and you want—if you could, you would suck on it, let him fuck your throat, but you’re in the business of being filled to the point of blank thoughts right now.

You feel Charles at your cunt then, your slick making the slide easier, and Charles bucks his hips up and you—this is what you needed, to mellow you down, get you all loose and ready for more. “Take it, baby,” Max says, “all of it, all of us.”

“Ah,” you gasp out. “Ah.”

“Come on,” he grits, voice hardening. “You’re ruined. Pretty little girl. Come on.”

“Maxie,” you call out weakly, your fond little nickname for him. You remember Charles whining about how he doesn’t have one, so you save baby for him, had sussed that out on a night where they took turns fucking you. Your hips torn between the two dicks stuffing you, face sweaty and the sweater doesn’t help, gets you hotter; Charles gets the hint, and with effort, pulls it off you. Your skin is shiny underneath, matching bra sticking to your sweaty, sheened out skin.

“Love it,” you say, voice strained. “Split—fuck—me open.” Your holes clench around them and Jesus, they could have you all flushed and pretty and spread out like them, like this, forever. Charles grabs at the flesh of your ass, slaps you once and you’re tightening around them, breath impossibly still, thighs shaking. Max’s hands hold your hips tight, hungrily traveling up, groping at the wire of your bra to press at your tits. You’re pressed against both of them at a delicious angle that gets you dizzy.

“I’m gonna cum, I,” you breathe out, moaning, “I haven’t touched myself since…”

They both moan at that, delirious. Fuck. The thought of you holding it—for them—fuck.

“You’re so perfect, so—fuck—slutty,” Charles says, and you can’t hide the moan fast enough. “Feels good, having us in you, yeah? Getting you all noisy and… fucking—shit. I know how much you needed this, love. I know how much you love it. Us.”

From behind, Max snakes a hand up your abdomen, the column of your throat, and wraps there. You see white from the sensation of it alone.

“Tell me—I can’t—please, I—Charles—Maxie—” You’re increasingly incoherent, slick running down your thighs, twitching vigorously. You try to comprehend everything but you’re losing coherence and they get it, they get it, wiping your tears and sweat and coercing you to cum, yeah, pretty little pussy so fucking wet for us, cum hard, come on, you’ve been so good, baby, the best girl for us.

There’s no way either of them are lasting after that, after watching you fall apart and finish on top of them, stuffed full, stuffed pliant, stuffed fucking docile.

It’s your turn, then, to praise, your favorite boys, always so good for me, thank you for letting me cum, come on, let me taste it—and you’re stained with their release after a few minutes, Max biting on your shoulder, Charles’ thumb indenting your hip.

—

What. A. Podium, ladies and gentlemen! Max Verstappen of Red Bull, from P6 in the last race to a stunning P3 drive—Charles Leclerc, braving the team’s dismal strategy to get P2! What a knockout. Of course the Mercedes legend, gunning for four championships now, had crossed the flag first to claim her fifth P1 of the season.

What a legendary race, absolutely proper podium. They showed us what driving is, real driving.

The season is heating up.

Makes you wonder what happened over the weekend for them to get such good results.

This is F1. I’m sure they keep each other motivated.

#f1 #charles leclerc #charles leclerc smut #charles leclerc imagines #charles leclerc x reader #max verstappen #max verstappen smut #max verstappen imagines #max verstappen x reader #f1 x reader

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sturniologals · 5 days

Text

Make it up to you -m.s

☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆ ☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆ ☆

Dom!Matt x fem!reader

in which~ y/n had a crush on Matt but his friends/football teammates found out and teased you about it, he joined in on the teasing to hide the fact that he has feelings for you but six months later, you’re desperate for a ride to school and Matt is your only option.

warnings~ p in v/ unprotected (don’t be silly,wrap up your willy)/ use of baby, sweetheart, y/n, praise kink, cursing

───⋆⋅☆⋅⋆───

I stretched my limbs as I tried to peel my eyes open from my sleepy state. "y/n! Hurry up!" My mom shouted at me, afraid id miss the bus.

"Frickity frickity Frick" I mumbled to myself as I looked over at my phone and saw the time reading 7:15, my bus runs in literally like 7 minutes, theres no way I was gonna make it. I opened up my contacts and called and texted at least five of my friends in hope that I could get a ride from one of them but I failed.

I clicked on my last contact I was going to try and started to call my friend Nick.

She answered and her soft voice spoke "Hey y/n!"

"Hey Nick! Is there any possible way that you could give me a ride to school today?" She hummed to herself as she thought about it.

"im sorry girl, Matt took my car today. He has some thing after school but I can call him. He should be able to pick you up!" He chimes.

"No no no, id rather walk. Thank you tho." I say before we bid our goodbyes and hang up.

I meant that, i really would rather walk. Matthew sturniolo has been my biggest enemy since last year, when I first started high school and became friends with Nick. I had an obvious crush on matt even though he was a bit older. His friends found out because matt overheard me talking to Nick about it one time and his friends started to tease me about it and eventually matt joined in and ever since then, they make jokes and poke fun at me anytime I see them.

"y/n! Why are you still in your fucking pajamas?" My mom says angrily from my door.

"Mom its okay, matt is gonna give me a ride!" I spurt out quickly, just not wanting to get into an argument with her.

“Matt? oh! It’s been forever since you guys have hung out.” My mom says, her mood quickly changing to a more joyous one. I roll my eyes at her words and she tells me she loves me before she leaves out for work.

I stand up and put on a pair of black jeans and a dark blue body suit that accentuates my body perfectly. I finish straightening my hair, my luscious blonde locks flowing perfectly down my shoulders. I sit down at my vanity and apply a few makeup products, really just mascara, and a bit of highlighter. Mid way through my routine, i remember i haven’t called Matt yet. My hands start to tremble a bit as i scroll through my contacts in search of his name.

I reluctantly click the call button under his name and the ringing of my phone makes me shudder. After just two rings, he picks up.

“Y/n?” His deep voice grumble from the speakers on my phone.

“Hi Matt! Can you give me a ride to school?” I say peppily, not wanting him to give me any shit.

“I’ll be there in five.” He says before hanging up.

well, that was easy. i think to myself before spritzing myself with some perfume and slipping on my shoes. I grab my bag and walk through my house.

I get to the front door and see trey pulling in.

perfect timing.

The sight of Matts truck parked in my driveway makes me nervous. I push the nervousness down, pulling all of the courage i have out of me and I start walking down my driveway.

Once i step out of my door, he immediately steps out of his truck and walks to the passenger side and opens the door up. He stands leaning on the door, a small smile on his face.

why is he being so fucking nice?

“Hi y/n.” He says in a seductive voice while his eyes trail over my body. The way he’s looking at me sends a heat straight to my core but i try my best to ignore it. I shoot Matt a side eye and a nod of my head as i step up into his truck. He places his hand on my lower back for support as i climb into his vehicle which has me crossing my legs in the passenger seat. Matt looks at me with a hungry look in his eyes as he shuts the door for me and walks over to the driver side.

He climbs into the seat and takes a deep breath in before turning the key over.

“Thanks for picking me up.” I say in the most nonchalant way that i can.

“Yeah, i mean- you haven’t talked to me in almost 6 months so i was surprised you’d wanted me to.” Matt says while looking at me, our eye contact holding strong.

“I didn’t have any other choice.” I say with a shrug of my shoulders and i can see the pain flash in his eyes as i finish my sentence off and i immediately feel bad.

“No- I didn’t mean-“ I start to correct myself but he cuts me off.

“I get it y/n. I really do- don’t apologize sweetheart. I’ve been an asshole to you for so long and i let my friends make jokes and i’m just- i’m so fucking sorry. I was a coward because you made me- feel things.” Matt spurts out, his confession surprising me but making my heart skip a beat and my pussy convulse at the name he called me.

“Matt-“ I start to speak but he cuts me off yet again.

“Can you come to my football game tonight?” He asks impatiently as he starts to pull out of my driveway.

“Matt, you know i hate going to school functions.”

“Please” He says quickly.

“Okay, i’ll be there.” I say reluctantly. I don’t even really know why he wants me there but it seems important so i agree.

The rest of the ride is silent, just Matt glancing at me every few minutes and at some point his large hands made their way to my knee, slowly trailing up my thigh as i squirmed around in my seat, Matt glancing at my neediness but his hand never moved to my heat.

“Here you go sweetheart.” Matt says as we pull up next to the busy school entrance.

“Aren’t you coming?” I ask him.

“I’ll be here later.” He says with a small smile as he unbuckles my seat belt for me and walks around to open my door. His truck is raised high off of the ground but Matt is so tall that his head is still up to my level when he’s standing on the ground in-front of me. He puts his hands around my waist and picks me up out of his truck. I giggle as he sits me down on the ground. He chuckles and tells me he’ll see me later.

As i walk into school, all that’s going through my head is Matt.

the things he said to me were definitely more than ‘friendly’

why is he being so nice?

is this another joke?

the way his hands were all over me tho…

sweetheart?

why does he want me at his game tonight?

i made him feel things?

what things?

i spend the rest of my school day and the whole ride home and the whole time i’m getting ready for the football game also thinking about Matt. The thoughts about him in my head are inevitably erotic and i genuinely can’t help it.

My mom drops me off at the game and i pull at the tight shorts on my legs as i hop out of the car. I walk up into the bleachers and i find a seat that gives me a perfect view of the field. Matt comes out of now where and runs up to the fence that separates us.

“c’mere!” he says loudly, i can see his friends behind him starting to laugh and i get nervous and all of memories of them poking fun at me make me sick and i want to run out of there.

“y/n baby, i said to come here.” Matt demands in a soothing yet firm voice that makes me feel safe. His friends behind him starts staring and looking confused. I am too but i listen to try and walk over to stand over the fence. His eye black is starting to smudge and his hair is tousled perfectly and i’m so close that i can smell his manly musk.

As soon as i’m standing slightly over Matt, he pulls his hands up to my head and pulls me down to him and immediately shoves his lips onto mine. The feeling of his mouth moving over mine is something i’ve wanted to feel for so fucking long. I groan into his mouth as his tongue slips into mine and i can taste the saltiness of his mouth and i’m

craving more. I audibly groan when he pulls away, his lips swollen and pink as he runs back to the field. His friends just staring at him angrily and confused as he flips them off and walks down the field with a smile on his face.

what the fuck just happened?

and why is his whole football team staring at me?

Matt yells at his friends from across the field.

“hey! shitheads! stop staring at my girl and get your asses down here.”

I get butterflies at him calling me ‘his girl’ but then i remember the months of teasing he let his friends do to me and i wipe the smile off of my face quickly. Maybe i should let myself enjoy this tho?

Throughout the whole game, my internal monologue argues with itself. By the end of the game, i decide i want to give him a chance. I believe what he told me. Matt sweaty figure runs up to the fence at the end of the game, they won of course. I’m clapping and smiling at Matt, his eyes looking directly into mine. He puts his arms out over the fence and motions for me to walk over. I do so and he puts his hands on my waist and picks me up over the fence and pulls me onto the field. I smile up at him and he immediately kisses me again.

His friends and even his coach “oooo”-ing at us as he gives me a desperate yet gentle kiss.

“I’ve wanted to kiss you ever since you showed up to my house with your fucking sparkly pink jump rope for cheer practice almost two years ago.” he whispers into my ear as he pulls away. My face goes red with embarrassment.

“You played good.” I say with a proud smile.

He flashes his white teeth at me before one of his friends, jacob, comes up behind Matt. i sigh and immediately get nervous because jacob was one of the main people who teased me. Matt looks over at jacob with sharp eyes, as if he’s warning him to not say anything to me. Jacob just smiles at me. “I’m sorry y/n, i was a dick to you and owen for a long time.”

I nod with a small thin lipped smile.

“you wanna get out of here sweetheart?” owen says to me. I nod my head and he smiles at me as he takes my hand and walks us out of the stadium.

as we walk through the busy parking lot, murmurs from people in our small town are heard.

“ew he’s like- old as fuck.”

“didn’t he literally bully her?”

i block out the noise, Matt squeezing my hand as a sign of comfort.

We get into his truck and i immediately look over at him. “Matt. why?”

he looks at me confusedly. “why what?”

“why did you want me to come tonight?” i ask timidly. He laughs out loud and i grow confused.

“you’re oblivious. I wanted you here tonight so i could kiss you in front of all of the assholes who used to give you shit.” he says with a genuine smile of happiness as he rubs his hand up and down my leg.

“Oh.” I say quietly as it clicks in my head. “Oh!” i say once i get it.

“cmon sweetheart it’s late. i’ll get you home.” Matt says as he reaches over to buckle my seatbelt for me, his long fingers grazing over my chest. Butterflies erupt in my stomach and heat grows between my legs as owen starts his truck and pulls out of the parking lot. His hand is resting on my thigh and quiet music plays, my window cracked slightly allowing some of the cold friday night breeze to flow through the cab of his truck. Every smidge of cold air that hits my skin makes me shudder. My body is extremely sensitive to the touch right now. I look over at owen and his dark eyes are trained on his hand that’s resting on my leg. “you’re so beautiful y/n.” Matt says in a low, seductive voice as his thumb draws circles on my inner thigh.

“pull over.” I say nervously, trying to muster up all of the courage that i have. Matt smirks, knowing what i want as he pulls over by an empty desolate park by some trees that offer a good enough coverage. As soon as he shifts into park, i immediately swing my legs over his lap so i’m straddling. My lips are on his in a hot, sweaty and passionate kiss. The smell of sweat and grass still on Matt makes me impossibly needier.

All of a sudden- Matt pulls my face back.

“Patience baby.” Matt says with an attractive chuckle.

“you’re not gonna fucking tease me all day and then tell me to have patience Matt.” i say firmly as i slowly start to rock my hips back and forth on him, making him groan out.

“oh- don’t- god, y/n.” he says as he throws his head back and shuts his eyes in pleasure as his eyebrows knit together.

“Nuh uh, you owe me six months worth of apologies. You’re gonna be the one making me feel good, yeah?” i say deviously as i cease my movements. Matt eyes open up and meet mine, a smile playing across his features as he laughs and nods his head yes.

“i guess you’re right about that one sweetheart.” he says as he quickly puts a hand on my back and turns me so my back is against the passenger door of his truck as he pulls my ankles up to his shoulders. I groan out as i arch my back needily.

“calm down pretty girl. let me take care of you.” he says softly as he pulls my shorts down my hips. His eyes clench shut together for a second. “you’re so perfect.” he praises as he starts to kiss up my thighs.

“Matt…” i moan out as he gets closer to my core.

he starts to kiss over my clothed cunt before slowly pulling my panties down.

“you’re so soaked. all because of me?” he speaks seductively as i bring my fingers up to his hair and pull his head closer to my pussy impatiently. He laughs out loud before licking a stripe up me which pulls a loud moan out of me. His tongue moves against me quickly and skillfully, pulling more and more noises from me.

“Oh you’re doing so good for me sweetheart.” He says against my cunt before ducking on my bundle of nerves.

“Matt- i’m gonna-“ i pant out, unable to form a coherent sentence.

“Finish in my mouth, let me taste you.” he says, which sends me over the edge, screaming his name as his head gets squeezed between my clenching thighs.

I pant out as i come down from my high as owen continues to lick me clean like a starved man.

“good?” he asks with an egotistical expression on his face.

“i’ve had better.” i say sarcastically with a shrug.

“Yeah i bet.” he says as he pulls my shorts back up my legs for me.

I sit up straight and fix my hair in his mirror before i buckle my seat belt and Matt starts to drive again.

“y/n” Matts deep voice speaks out, diverting my attention to him.

“hm?” I hum out.

“I love you.” he says with a small nervous smile on his face. My stomach immediately erupts in butterflies and a smile forms on my face.

“I love you too.” I say as i intertwine my fingers with his.

#sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo smut #nick sturniolo #sturniolo smut #sturniolos #chris sturniolo fanfic

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ssturniolo · 5 months

Note

could u write something where reader is going through a sort of depressive episode where like trader just kinda feels hopeless and stuff and is pushing chris away and so he doesn’t understand why until matt like points it out and so chris then feels bad and comforts reader sorry if this is long😭

Everything’ll be alright

𝔭𝔞𝔦𝔯𝔦𝔫𝔤 - Chris x fem!reader

𝔰𝔲𝔪𝔪𝔞𝔯𝔶 - request <3

𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰 - mentions of depression, bad mental health, Chris being oblivious, not proofread

Everything in your life has just been going wrong. Or at least it’s felt that way. Simple everyday tasks have grown increasingly difficult to do and every waking moment is it’s own battle. You’ve had no contact with the outside world in who knows how long, not even your own boyfriend. It just seems as though nobody cares and that, along with everything else is slowly destroying you.

Only leaving your bed to use the bathroom and grab another bag of chips that will eventually be thrown to the side uneaten, has been how you’ve been living for awhile now. You’re filled with this overwhelming feeling of despair and it just won’t go away. At war with your own mind, and there doesn’t seem to be a light at the end of this tunnel. Just a dead end.

*** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** **

Chris lays on the couch, scrolling through Instagram while hoping that you’ll answer one of his million texts. He knows you’re pushing him away but he can’t figure out why. What did he do wrong? You’re his first girlfriend and he’s so afraid to loose you but he doesn’t know what’s wrong or what to do.

“Me and Nick are going to McDonald’s if you want to bring y/n,” Matt calls as he grabs his keys off the counter.

“No that’s ok, I don’t think she’d want to” Chris reply’s, not looking up from his phone.

“But I thought she loves McDonald’s? I haven’t heard from her in awhile, how’s she doing?” Matt asks, his voice laced with concern.

“I wouldn’t know” Chris mumbles, clearly hurt.

Every once in awhile you kind of disappear but you’ve never done it for this long, let along not talking to Chris at all.

“Did you guys break up?” Matt asks gently as he sits by Chris on the couch.

“No but she ghosted me” Chris starts, pressing his palms into his eyes. “She’s completely disappeared off of social media, and never answers my texts or calls even when it says she’s active.”

Worry is painted across Matt’s features as he watches his brother fight off tears.

“Chris I think you should go check up on her. Y/n wouldn’t do this without a really good reason and I think she’s really struggling right now. I’ll bring you on the way to McDonald’s ok?”

Chris never thought about that fact you might not be doing well, he was more concerned about you ignoring him.

“Ok, let’s go.”

*** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** **

You’ve been curled up on your bed, staring at the same spot on your wall for what’s seemed like forever. How long exactly? You have no clue. Your only telling of time was whether there was light peeking through the blinds, or if everything was just swallowed in darkness.

The creak of the door to your room opening startles you out of your dazed state, confused as you hadn’t heard anyone come into your apartment.

“Hey there princess” a familiar voice whispers as he shuts the door behind him.

Chris.

Without another word, he climbs into your bed, snaking his arms around you, holding you close against his chest. And that’s all it took for you to burst into tears, wetting his t-shirt as you cry into his chest.

“I’m trapped Chris, I’m trapped” you manage to cry out in between sobs.

“I don’t know what to do”

“Everything will be alright baby, we’ll figure this out together, I’ve got you” he whispers soothingly into your hair.

There’s a terrible pressure on your chest, you feel everything and nothing at the same time, and your whole life seems to be crumbling down in front of you, but Chris is there. Right besides you through it all just like he’s always been. The world could be falling apart and he’d be there, ready to hold you in his arms and tell you everything will be alright.

Right now, all you need is Chris and he doesn’t plan on leaving anytime soon.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thank you for the request my love 🫶🏻

XOXO - Zoe

Tag-list ⬇️

@dwntwn-strnlo @soleilsturniolos @mbbsgf @gabbylovesreading @0-r-a-y-0 @sturn3g1rl @lvrsparadise @taylorssfilmsss @emssturniolo @ilovemattsturn @nickenthusiast @itsaaliyah2 @thetriplets3 @urfavstromboli

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pitchsidestories · 7 months

Text

You can be a sweet dream or a beautiful nightmare II Ali Krieger x Mewis!Reader

masterlist I word count: 2599

The heat of the day was gone, and it started to cool down in New Jersey. The breeze made you shiver, so did the words of Ali Krieger with whom you had a love affair for the past weeks: “Y/n, you’re 13 years younger than me and I just go through a separation from my wife.” “Ali.”, you tried to soothe her doubting face. Sadness lay in the eyes of the defender while she was looking at you: “I can’t do that.” “But you kissed me first and you said that it meant something to you.”, the hurt in your voice was undeniable.

Regret was shimmering through her words: “I shouldn’t have done that. You’re way too young for me.” “I’m not that young, Ali.”, you interjected. Eyerolling Ali countered: “You’re 26.” “Yes, which makes me an adult.”, you protested. Softly the older woman replied:” I know you’re.”

This didn’t change the fact that you were 13 years younger than her, this much you both knew. The defender made very clear that it was time to end the thing whatever you two had going on before anyone could get too hurt. So, you decided:” I should go.”

Meanwhile Ali’s daughter Sloane was standing right behind you and interrupted your talk, with big eyes she pleaded:” Don’t go, you promised me a good night story.” “No, she’s right. She should go.”, the dark-haired woman declared. The toddler looked disappointed at her mother: ”But-“ “It’s okay, Sloane. Maybe, we’ll do that another time in the future.” , you reassuringly hugged the little girl.

Audibly Ali cleared her throat: “Goodbye, I hope I’ll see you soon.” “We play in the same team, so I guess we can’t avoid seeing each other.”, you reminded her. Nervously the older woman went through her hair with one hand: “Yes, sure.” “Bye.”, you waved at them. “Goodbye.”

Were those tears shimmering in her beautiful brown eyes? But weren’t you the one who was allowed to grieve the possibility of what you two could have become when she ended it? Confused you left the home of the woman who broke your heart.

A worried Sloane looked up to her mother:” Why do you look so sad, momma?” “I’m not. I just have a hard decision to make. But it’s bad time for you now.”, Ali tried to shrug it off. “No.”, the toddler whined. “Yes, come on.”, the defender’s lips curled up into a tired smile as she knew all too well that her daughter would be soon asleep by the time her small head hit her pillow.

“Ali! Lynn! Doesn’t my little sister look super hot in this outfit?“, Kristie Mewis yelled a week later at Gothams next NWSL game. It has become kind of a ritual that the players took pictures of their outfits before the games for social media. You stood in front of the camera, rolling your eyes at your older sister; “Kristie, stop it.“ “Just admit that I picked it out for you!“, she protested with a laugh. You objected, frowning; “I picked it out. You just lend me the clothes!“ “I picked it out!“, Kristie insisted again. You could easily forget that she was the older one. “Whoever did it, I’m sure every queer woman would be happy to unpack her.“, Lynn interrupted your discussion with a wink.

Ali who stood next to her, waiting for her turn to be photographed, said flatly; “What’s there to unpack? She’s barely wearing anything.“ You could feel your cheeks heat with anger. Before you could answer, Kristie looked at the defender; “Don’t be mean, Ali. It’s a cute fit.“ She gave you a proud smile while Ali shrugged; “It’s true, Kristie.“ Your sister deliberately ignored her negative comments and walked up to you; “Come here. Let’s take some sister photos together to send to Sammy.“ “Sammy will pout forever about the fact that she wasn’t included in this picture.“, you reminded Kristie and immediately smiled at the thought of your other sister who currently played in Kansas. Kristie grinned into the camera; “Let’s be honest, she probably would have ruined it.“ “Still, you know her.“ “Yes, I do.“, she rolled her eyes.

You had taken a quick selfie with Kristie too and texted it to Sam. Now you held up your phone in Kristies face; “Told you. She’s already pouting in her text messages. We need to send her a good snack for when she’s doing her next podcast episode to make up for it.“ “Trust me, she’ll survive.“, Kristie replied with a dismissive wave of her hand. Lynn nodded in agreement; “Yeah, she’s already busy with other things. Sammy will forget about that photo by tomorrow.“ As her podcast partner, Lynn always knew what Sam was up to. “Yeah, you two are probably right.“, you shrugged but sent your sister in Kansas a heart emoji anyway. “We are. Believe us.“, Kristie winked.

After the match Ali was standing next to your locker, arms crossed in front of her chest: “Where do you think you’re going with this outfit?” “I’m going out.”, you shrugged with your shoulders. Although her reaction fuelled your anger. She did not have a right to react jealous. Curiously she asked: “Out? With whom?” “Oh, just with Kristie and some other teammates.”, you replied nonchalantly.

Bitterly the defender answered:” Go and have fun then.” Innocently smiling Kristie intervened: “Isn’t Ashlyn looking after your kids tonight? Come on, Ali. You should join us.” “I don’t think Ali is interested in partying with us.”, you told her. Much to both of your surprise the captain of the team replied:” You know what? Why not? I got nothing else to do.” “Great, this is going to be so much fun.”, your older sister chirmed. A small smile lightened up Alis whole face: “I’m sure it will be.” “We’ll see about that.”, you whispered frustrated.

The club Kristie chose was new and trendy and settled in Manhattan. The music was good, and you and your teammates enjoyed the night out. A stranger came up to you: “Hi, can I get you a drink?” She looked pretty and you could not help but to nod along: “Sure.” “No.”, Ali interrupted the talk between the two of you. “No? I think I can decide that on my own.”, you huffed. Determined the defender shook her head: “No, you can’t.” With these words she took your hand and walked off with you.

Furiously you glanced at her: “Seriously, what the fuck Ali?” “What? It’s impolite. You’re out with us.”, she pointed out. Annoyed with her actions you scoffed: We both know that’s not why you did it.” “Maybe not. But that doesn’t matter. The others don’t have to know.”, Ali admitted. “Don’t worry, Kristie doesn’t know with whom I spent my summer.”, you disclosed. The mentioning of your older sister made the dark-haired woman smile in amusement:” “Kristie doesn’t seem to be bothered anyway. She’s on the phone with her girlfriend.” “And where are Kelley and Lynn?”, you couldn’t help but to ask. While Ali took you on to the dance floor without asking you: “At the bar.” “Oh.”

“Come on. You should have some fun.”, she smirked. As you were starting to move to the music you wanted to know from her:” Are you enjoying your parenting free night?” “I do.”, with that said you could feel her hands placed around your hips. You tried to keep your tone light: “That’s great.” “But I do miss them.”, the older woman answered. A sigh escaped your lips:“I miss them too to be honest.” “They miss you too.” Surprised you looked at her:”Really?” “Sure. You’ve met them quite a few times.”, Ali replied while her fingers touched your naked skin which made you shiver. Secretly you hated that your body still reacted to her like this.

Apparently, she had also noticed your reaction because she quickly pulled her hand away. “Yes, that’s true.“, you replied, trying to ignore what had just happened. Ali furrowed her eyebrows, looking at you intently; “Are you okay?“ “Yes, I’m fine… I think I’ll go home now.“, you explained, turning away from her. “Already?“ “Yes. Good night, Ali.“

You took your bag and were about to leave when you suddenly felt her hand close around your wrist. “Let me bring you home. Your sister obviously isn’t going to.“, Ali decided rather than offered. You followed her gaze to Kristie, who stood off to the side with her phone pressed to her ear and giggled about something her girlfriend must have said. “We should not interrupt her when she’s talking to her girlfriend.“, you had to admit. Ali finally let go of your hand; “I’m sure the others will make sure that she gets home safe. But now let me take you home.“

Your brain was constantly screaming at you while you accepted the offer and followed Ali to her car. The car ride was unusually silent but you were half expecting the awkwardness already. When the car stopped in front of your apartment building, you realized that Ali had gotten out of the car to open the passenger door for you. You gave her a tight smile; “Thanks for bringing me home.“ “You’re welcome.“, she answered politely. While pulling the keys out of your bag, you noticed that Ali hasn’t moved.

With a sigh, you turned to her, finally asking you the question that was bothering you the whole night; “Ali… did you already find someone new?“ The defender seemed taken aback by the question; “No. I’m not looking for someone right now.“ “I see.“ “It’s all a bit much right now. I thought I’d focus on myself and my children. What about you? Are you seeing anyone?“, Ali continued. You shook your head, your lips pressed together tightly; “No. I think I’ll focus on my career right now.“ “That sounds… reasonable.“ “I know.“ You were just about to turn the keys and unlock the door when Ali spoke up again; “You know I’m sorry, right? I didn’t think when we started this. Or else I wouldn’t have put us both through this mess.“ “So you regret us?“, you asked, your voice a pitch higher than you wanted it to be. “That’s not what I said.“, Ali retorted defensively.

You heaved a long sigh; “I guess it’ll be easier when the season ends.“ “Yes. I think it will be. That gives us more space.“, the defender agreed. “Right and we’ll never have to see each other again.“ Ali rolled her eyes at your remark; “You know, you can be a bit dramatic sometimes?“ “To be fair, I learned from the best. Kristie and you.“, you laughed involuntarily. “I’m not dramatic! Your sister is!“, Ali protested with a wide grin. “Yeah, she’s a little bit more drama.“

For a second, everything felt like the break-up never happened but then Alis’ face turned serious again; “See. I’m sure you’ll be alright. You’re an amazing soccer player, smart and pretty, and you have your two sister who always got your back. You don’t need me.“

“Ali, you know that’s not true. I do need you.”, you disagreed. Her expression was unchanged as she answered: “No, you don’t.” “I still don’t care about the age gap. I thought you should know that. Good night, Ali.”, you smiled disappointed. “I do know that. Good night.”

Yet she still did not move so you asked the defender:” Ali, why are you still standing here?” “What? Oh, sorry. I was just thinking.”, Ali blushed. “Thinking about what?” “Mistakes.”, the older woman truthfully replied. Sharply you shot back: “Well, I think you made very clear that we were a mistake.” “No. But apparently think that if you keep accusing me of saying that.”, she shook her head. You could feel your cheek turn red:” Sorry.” “ I don’t think this was a mistake. What was a mistake was the fact that I didn’t think about it before starting something with you. That would have saved us the trouble.”, Ali summed it up. Slowly you nodded:”Right.”

“But now I’m wondering if it’s a mistake to let you go.”, the defender cautiously looked into your eyes. The words left your mouth before you could think more deeply about them: “Don’t let go.” This said she closed the gap between you and pressed her lips onto yours while you replied to her kiss with an equally passion, running your hands through her dark long hair. All the emotions finally making their way out as you embraced each other. Needless to say, Ali did not leave that night.

After your now girlfriends last game where was a big party being held in her honour. All her friends were there to celebrate her long soccer career. Proudly you kissed her which made Kristie gasp out loud: “Oh. My. God!”

“Why are you yelling, Kristie?”, your other sister Sam Mewis asked amused because she was well versed in the older sibling’s talent to make everything super dramatic as if you were part of a reality show. “Our little sister is making out with Ali!”, the blonde shouted into her ear. Unimpressed the taller woman looked at her:” And?” “And seriously?!”, Kristie repeated playfully shocked.

That made Sam laugh out loud: “Yes?” “Why aren’t you freaking out about this?”, the smaller midfielder wanted to know. “Should I?” “Well, they look happy, right?”, the older sister observed as she glanced at Ali and you. Giggling the middle sibling remarked: “I don’t know. They’re about to eat each other up.”

Kristie grimaced in disgust; “Ew, gross.“ “As if you and were any better with your girlfriend.“, Megan Rapinoe interrupted the sisters, giving Kristie a smirk. Sam gasped with widened eyes, happy about the mutual understanding between her and Megan; “Don’t even get me started! You can’t even have a normal conversation without them making out!“

“Let’s try it with this new couple, shall we?“, Megans wife asked, a challenging look on their face. But before she could her plan to action, Ali took her lips off of yours for a second and yelled; “We’re busy here!“ “Get a room!“, Kristie answered. You eyed your sister with scepticism; “Coming from you?“ “Don’t talk to me in this tone, young lady.“, Kristie warned, playfully raising her finger at you. You cringed; “You’re my older sister, not my mum.“

Ali got up, taking your hand in hers; “Let’s leave, love.“ “Please.“, you answered, looking at your sisters with feigned disdain. “Bye, guys.“, Ali waved while gently leading you outside. Kristie watched you with her mouth open; “You can’t just abduct my sister.“ “This is consensual.“, you clarified with a laugh. “This better be!“, Kristie yelled after you. You smiled at her and Sam, waving them goodbye; “See you tomorrow.“ “Or not.“, Kristie added. Sam snorted; “Probably not.“ “Girls!“, you called. But Ali nudged you with her shoulder, giving you a wink; “They are not wrong though.“ “Go.“, Sam rolled her eyes, gesturing for you to finally leave. Sue smiled as she watched you two; “Seems like we don’t have to worry about Ali being bored after her retirement from soccer.“ “I was never worried about that.“, Megan replied, amused.

Kristie in the meantime had taken a step away from the group and was holding her phone to her ear. “Kristie, what are you doing?“, Sam asked. “Uhm, telling mum the news?“, her sister answered, looking at her like it was the most obvious thing in the world. Sam shook her head at her; “Oh my god, Kristie. That’s exactly why I’m mums favorite.“

#ali krieger #ali krieger x reader #woso x reader #uswnt x reader #kristie mewis #gotham fc #woso #woso fanfics #woso imagine #megan rapinoe #uswnt #kristie mewis x reader #uswnt imagine #nwsl #sam mewis #woso oneshot #kelley o'hara

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slut4fangs · 2 years

Text

Don’t Threaten Me With A Good Time

Part 2

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Female reader

Summary: An innocent game of teasing your best friend Eddie drives him to the point of obsession and lust. Taboo as it may be, Eddie Munson can’t seem to keep his hands to himself when it comes you, his best friend who he's fallen head over heels for

Warnings: 18+, unprotected sex, Eddie is really slutty & irresistible, soft dom Eddie, condescending mean Eddie that's obsessed with reader, Eddie being a sweetheart too, mentions of Ronance, sneaky sex *Steve is in the same room as it’s happening, a lot of other sexy things that I want to be a surprise, etc.

Author's Note: This was originally going to be short & sweet, but I got too into it. Oh, and make sure to comment & reblog if you liked it. It really helps and encourages me to share my writing. Enjoy! <3

There’s been a change in Eddie Munson lately that you couldn’t ignore. Ever since you started hosting Friday get togethers at your new house, Robin and Nancy being your roomates, you noticed Eddie started looking at you differently. Robin and Nancy were too busy being lovebirds to note this change in behavior, but Steve was all too perceptive. The last two times he pulled you to the side to ask if there was anything going on between you two.

"No, we're just friends. I know he's been...off lately, but it's probably nothing."

"Maybe he has a crush on you," Steve nudges your elbow with a smile, you scoff at this.

"He does not," you assure Steve, laughing it off.

"He's been doing more than just staring you know, I see the way he passes you in tight spaces and always wants to sit next to you on our movie nights. And he stares at your ASS, like constantly. You need to talk to him, because if he's making you uncomfortable I'll kick his a-"

You interrupt Steve, "Don't. I'll handle this, I'll talk to him next week on movie night. Besides, I don't really mind it that much," you shrug and cross your shoulders, trying to sound nonchalant about this admission.

The truth was you really didn't mind at all, in fact, Eddie's longing looks and lingering touches ignited something in you. It was thrilling when he did it. Two weeks ago Eddie offered to help you cook dinner, hovering over you as you stirred the pasta. Eddie had dipped his head onto your shoulder and held onto your hip pressing himself to your ass, sniffing the pot of pasta, his head lolling over to ask you if you thought it needed more garlic salt.

"I don't know, what do you think? You think it smells edible?" You couldn't concentrate with him this close, much less answer truthfully. Your head was clouded with the closeness of him, the heat from the pasta fanning both of your faces. You felt warm in more than one place.

Eddie took the spoon and had you taste test, "hmm, maybe oregano," you answered.

"Here you got a little something," Eddie used his thumb to wipe away some sauce from the corner of your mouth, then proceeded to lick his thumb. It was almost pornographic the way he did it, sucking on his thumb for a brief moment that felt like forever. In that moment all you wanted to do was ask him to put his fingers in your mouth.

Then there was the time Steve offered to take everyone to the lake, Robin and Nancy had a date night already planned so they were out. But that left you, Eddie, and Steve being the only ones going.

"So, whose the third wheel in this situation," Steve joked while driving Eddie's van to the lake, you were in the passenger seat and Eddie was in the back. Eddie seemed to be distracted doodling in his notebook, maybe he was writing something, you weren't sure.

"No one's third wheeling, god, uneven numbers don't mean shit," you say rolling your eyes at Steve.

"You say that, but someone always feels left out when there's only three. Robin and Nancy somehow even it all out, maybe it's because Robin has enough personality to fill a room and make everyone feel included, and special, you know?"

"You're just pissy because Robin couldn't come," you tell Steve, he rolls his eyes right back at you and laughs.

"No shit, she's my best friend. I guess I'm still not used to not giving her rides everywhere, ever since Nancy got a car I feel like I don't see her anymore. It blows, but hey, seeing her less means I get to see more of you. That's always a plus," Steve says, and you're never really sure if he sees you as a potential love interest or just flirts casually. Either way, it made you blush a little.

"Yeah, you think so?" You say, blushing in the passenger seat.

"I know so," Steve smirks, glancing over at you and your heart jumps a little.

Eddie pipes up from the back, "get a god damn room, jesus christ," he tries to hide the hurt in his voice. The thought of you with Steve made him jealous, even though Eddie had a crush on Steve, he couldn't help being so drawn to you.

Steve pulls into a nearby gas station, "do you guys need anything, snacks, drinks? It's on me."

"I'm good," you say.

"Cherry coke," Eddie answers, Steve nods and shuts the drivers door, leaving you and Eddie alone in silence.

Eddie's the first one to talk, of course, "why do you get the front seat and I sit in the back?"

"What, do you wanna trade or something. I don't mind," you say turning to Eddie. Eddie's wearing a white tshirt and black swim shorts, you've never really seen him this casual and it's sort of taking you aback but you try not to stare too much at the way his white tshirt is see-through enough to show his tats underneath.

"We can both sit up front, how about that," Eddie lights up with the idea.

"How does that even work," you ask, a sassy tone resonating in your voice.

"I'll show you," Eddie says climbing out of the back and opening up the passenger door, climbing in and lifting you up to place you on his between his spread legs. "See, now it's fair, we both get to sit next to King Steve."

You can't help but notice how Eddie's hands rest on your knees, drawing little circles. For once, you're speechless and little do you know, it will take a week to process what happens at the lake.

It was nightfall and the three of you had made a fire, made smores and hot dogs, telling ghost stories and drinking wine and beer. When it hit 12 am Steve refused to sleep in the van like Eddie suggested because, "If I'm going to camp, I'm going to do it the old fashioned way on the ground in my sleeping bag. Enjoy the van, I'm sleeping next to the fire."

"Good for you, Harrington," Eddie says crawling into the back of the van where he had set up an air mattress with blankets and pillows, I'm not big and strong like you."

"Goodnight, kids" Steve says playfully before cuddling up in his sleeping back next to the dying fire.

"Are you coming," Eddie asks, you're standing right outside of the van, cursing yourself for not bringing a sleeping back. Eddie stretches a hand to meet yours and you take it, hopping in the back of the van with him where he shuts the doors and it becomes increasingly clear how close you two were on the edge of the air mattress.

"Thanks, by the way," you blurt aloud, "I don't really like the idea of sleeping on the ground anyways," you hold a pillow to your chest. You're wearing your bikini from the lake swim, feeling a little self conscious from the lack of clothes.

"Do you want my shirt," Eddie asks, taking his shirt off and handing it to you.

"Sure, thanks," you start to put it over your bikini but Eddie stops you midway.

"You shouldn't sleep in wet clothes, you'll get a cold. You should probably take this off," Eddie says tugging at your bikini string, untying the top for you and tossing it to the side of the air mattress.

You scoff in flustered disbelief, Eddie speaks up again, "put it on, sweetheart," referring to his tshirt. You did so, thinking that was the end of that. But Eddie wasn't done yet, he had to make you more flustered to make up for witnessing you and Steve flirt on and off throughout the night. It was driving him fucking crazy.

"This too," Eddie pulls the string to your bikini bottoms, tossing them on the mattress and fiddling around in his bag for a pair of his boxers. You're speechless as Eddie climbs over top of you and dresses you in his blue boxers. It felt so intimate, being undressed, and then dressed in his clothes. It was exhilarating as much as it was caring. Eddie had already changed out of his swim shorts and into sweats.

"Thank you," is the first thing you can think to say to Eddie, he's hovering over you, staring at how cute you look in his clothes. He thinks he could probably get off to just seeing you in his clothes alone. The thought of jerking off over you while he stared down at your body crossed his mind, the way your face would look so cute and shocked at the vulgar act. But he pushed the thought aside and put the idea in his spank bank for later.

"Don't mention it," Eddie says laying down next to you, "you're probably cold, aren't you?"

"Well yeah, the lake was freezing," you answer and then Eddie's pulling you to his chest to keep you both warm. You two were face to face and your jaw was agape at how forward and casual he was being simultaneously, Eddie laughs quietly and touches your chin. "What, cat got your tongue? What's wrong, honey? You can tell me," Eddie says in a mocking tone, his hand grabbing your ass shamelessly. He felt this was more subtle than jerking off over your body. "We're just two friends trying to keep each other warm, don't be weird," he's smirking at you and all you can think about is kissing that smart ass smirk off his face. It didn't help he was only wearing his sweats, he knew exactly what he was doing to you. It was time you one-upped his antics with your own.

You shiver, "I'm really scared, Eddie. Do you think it's safe to sleep in the woods like this, we're basically the textbook definition of victims in slasher movies right now. Can you hold me?"

The question stopped Eddie dead in his tracks, you asking him to hold you wasn't something he saw coming. "Oh, you're scared, huh" Eddie said in a mocking tone, jutting out his bottom lip in a pouted frown. "Poor baby, you're scared of the dark, aren't you? C'mere sweetheart, I'll protect you," Eddie said with a wolfish grin spread across his face. You didn't hesitate to jump into his arms, hugging his chest and burying it there for comfort.

"Thank you, Eddie," you say breathlessly and now he decides he's fucked. You were perfect. The more this happened, the more it didn't feel like a fun little cat and mouse game anymore. Eddie's feelings for you were real, the way he felt about you made that clear. But Eddie decided to stay in character, risking telling you his feelings just felt too...vulnerable? He didn't know, he'd never quite felt this way about anyone before. It was all new to him, the feeling of never wanting to let go and risk loosing everything. He wanted you to be his everything, but he forced himself to play it safe anyways.

"You are really cold, wouldn't want you to catch hypothermia," Eddie says, hands trailing up your shirt to grope your breasts and roaming down your hips leaving a trail of fire where he touched you. It felt like your whole body was on vibrate, "has anyone ever touched you there?" Eddie's said this while he snapped your underwear to your skin and you yelped in surprise.

"Ow, Eddie. I don't know what you mean," you said, the clueless act had Eddie's head in a spiral. He didn't know if you playing the same game he was to keep this going, to keep the excitement at a high.

"What are you saying, Princess? No one's ever been here, not even Steve," Eddie says teasing you, his finger tracing your slit over your underwear.

"No, Eddie. He hasn't," you kiss his jaw, "let's just go to sleep please."

"So he's never fucking touched you at all then, don't lie to me," Eddie's voice rises and he's clearly mad over something he's only imagined.

"We've hugged, that's it," you admit, that was a half lie. You and Steve had kissed but it was experimental and you both laughed about it afterwards, meaningless flirting suited your friendship you both decided. Steve did teach you how to kiss though, he insisted upon it, he kept saying how he knew all of these tricks and taught them all to you. It was hot, but still you only saw the flirting as just the way your friendship was, it was never serious, only fun. Eddie didn't see the flirting between you and Steve as fun and carefree though, he was jealous, jealous he couldn't have you for one. And jealous he couldn't have Steve either, but soon, he decided his hormones were driving him mad and there wasn't much else to do about it besides watch you like a hawk and to always be around so nothing happened between you two.

"Liar," Eddie says gritting his teeth, his hand sliding into your underwear to play with your clit while he seethed.

"Eddie what are you doing," you say, your pussy throbbing at the mere thought of Eddie being jealous, and the feeling of him inside your underwear made you hot. Suddenly, the freezing lake's cold wrath was gone, all you could feel was fire.

"You like it though, you like making me angry. That's why I have to punish you, baby, I'm sorry," Eddie said sinking two fingers in your hole, curling just right and just deep enough to make you squirm in his grasp. Eddie's other arm held you close to him, imprisoning your body to his.

"I'm sorry," you said and kissed Eddie softly, your moth open and welcoming his tongue. Eddie moaned into your mouth and wondered how experienced your really were, you knew how to kiss, that was certain. But the way you did it so eagerly, your tongue pushing his, and the way you sucked on his bottom lip made him groan.

"You're about to be fucking sorry, don't give me that pouty lip," Eddie fucked your pussy with his fingers relentlessly, wishing it was his dick instead. "On second thought, you shouldn't even get to wear my clothes. Take them off, now."

"Eddie please, why are you being so mean. This isn't fair I'm not lying," you say, but you were and he could fucking feel it in the way you stammered.

"Did you hear me, strip. Take off my fucking clothes before I make you," Eddie said, anger in his voice. You were so turned on your pussy squeezed his fingers and he gasped, "fuck, did you just squeeze me?God, that's so fucking hot. Now be a good girl and take these off," Eddie bit his lip, completely blissed out at the way you moaned his name and how wet you were for him. It was just like heaven.

"No!" You said, "you can't make me sleep naked!"

Eddie furrowed his brows, it was clear you were a brat and needed to be bossed around to get off. "Fine, I'll do it then," Eddie rolled you onto your back and tore your clothes off, he had never been this hot and bothered before and it was overwhelming but freeing. "You're sleeping naked with me as your punishment, when you decide to be a good girl for me I'll let you wear my whole fuckin' closet." Eddie hovered above you, pinning both of your wrists with his ringed hands, staring down at your naked body. Then the idea from earlier popped into his head again, he was going to jerk off over your body he couldn't resist the idea.

"Stay like that," Eddie said pulling his sweats down so his cock sprang free. Something in you couldn't help but wish he would fuck you right then, but Eddie started jerking off instead, staring at you. His cock hitting your stomach as he pumped it in his hand. "I'm going to come on your pussy, fuck baby you look so beautiful," Eddie spread your folds open with his fingers. Rutting against your clit with the head of his cock, "touch yourself for me." You did, you moaned Eddie's name and he lost control, your pussy covered in his come.

"Fuck," Eddie exclaimed, laying down beside you, scooping you up in his arms so your ass was to his front. Eddie sank two of his fingers in your hole, playing with the come on the outside and occasionally pushing the come inside you.

The two of you curled up into a blanket the rest of the night, Eddie fell asleep with his fingers inside you. You fell asleep speechless and wanting more.

Now it was movie night at your place again, it was dark and all the lights were out as you all watched The Shining for the fifth time. Robin and Nancy went to bed early, like usual whenever Nancy had work early the next morning. Steve was passed out on the loveseat, arms crossed over his chest, sleeping like someone's father that said "I'm just resting my eyes," then fell into a deep slumber, minus the snores.

Eddie had made a point to sit close to you, draping his arm around the couch adjacent to the loveseat. When Robin and Nancy went off to bed, Eddie seemed to inch closer and closer until he was thigh to thigh with you.

"Are you cold," Eddie asked you, his arm moving to hold your waist, pulling you closer for warmth.

"Yeah, it's always really chilly in this room," you drape your leg over Eddie's thigh as casually as you can manage.

Eddie's eyes drop to your thigh, taking in the sight of your tiny pj shorts that left little to the imagination. "I can warm you up," Eddie said eagerly. You bit your lip and nodded at him.

Movie nights were like sleepovers occasionally, Eddie was dressed in only a pair of boxers like usual. It was normal, Steve wore his old basketball shorts shirtless too, it's not like Eddie was being inappropriate. He was comfortable in your home, that's the way it was supposed to be. You only wondered if having these thoughts about your best friend was also the way it was supposed to be. All you could think about was the way he was in the van, you wanted to see that side of Eddie again.

Eddie reached behind him to grab a fuzzy throw blanket and placed it over you two, his hand going back to squeeze your waist, and then your thigh, rubbing you there. His eyes were trained on the movie, trying to look distracted while his hand kept inching toward your heat. Suddenly Eddie's hand rested on your clothed pussy, his fingers curling so that you could feel his middle finger poking at your hole slightly, still unmoving to do anything else, the two of you stayed that way for a few minutes in silence, neither of you saying anything like it wasn't happening. You felt your chest rise shallowly and your hand reached inside Eddie's boxers where your hand rested on his hard cock.

Eddie took this as a chance to slip his hand inside your shorts, his middle and index fingers curled inside your pussy. Your hand moved under the covers, stroking him while you two kept your eyes fixated on the movie. But all you could think about was how Eddie's fingers were slowly fucking your underneath the blanket.

"You're so warm. Do you wanna cuddle, I need more heat," Eddie said, what he really meant was he needed more of your heat, specifically the heat between your thighs.

"Mhm," you lay down, Eddie spoons you from behind, covering you two up with the blanket and making sure Steve was still asleep.

Eddie nuzzles into your neck and kisses you, his hands reach up to cup your tits. Eddie keep one hand up your shirt, his other hand pulling your shorts off, all the sudden you feel Eddie's cock slot between your thighs. You gasp and Eddie covers your mouth and shushes you, "shh, this is the best part, sweetheart," Eddie refers to the movie while his fingers work your clit expertly. Eddie kisses your cheek and then your mouth, "need you to keep every part of me warm, hm?" Eddie whispers this into your ear, then slams his cock into your wet hole, wanting nothing more than to hear you moan with his hand over your mouth. Slow, hot, and wet strokes of Eddie's cock fills you while he keeps his hand over your mouth to keep you from waking up Steve.

"I've wanted this for so long, baby. You have no idea how long I've waited to feel this pussy, I knew you'd be ready for me. I can't seem to keep my eyes off you ever since you sat on my lap two months ago when we were playing cards. I know you didn't mean to, but you kept wiggling around. I know you felt my dick digging into your ass, that's when the secret touches started. You didn't tell anyone about that, did you?"

You shake your head no, you didn't tell Steve about the touches and when it actually started. You knew he wanted you, it was all about the back and forth game you two were playing, the secrecy. He'd touch you accidentally, and you'd do the same back, feigning innocence to keep the ongoing game more exciting. You had him on edge, waiting for the right moment to act on the desires that clouded both of your minds.

Eddie's hand still clasped over your mouth he spoke about that first night, "at first, I thought it was an accident. But once you felt my cock get hard you kept wiggling and then you, fuck- you really started humping my thigh. You rode my fucking thigh when everyone was too drunk to notice, I jerked off in your bedroom that night. Hand down my pants, I came in my own pants. I stained my underwear and left early, holding my jacket over my front. You knew exactly what you were doing, don't act so surprised that you love my cock inside you. You've been waiting for it for so long," Eddie whispered in your ear, giving you full body chills.

Eddie spoke again, "when I let go of your mouth, don't make any noise. Just do what I say, and I might go easy on you." You do what he says and turn to face him, he turns you around to face him and hikes your leg over his hip and you sink down onto him, letting Eddie fuck you as fast and hard as he wants. You can't help yourself, you smother Eddie in kisses all over his chest, neck, and end at his lips, you suck on his tongue and you can hear a deep moan come from him. The two of you go wide-eyed and glance to see Steve stirring under his covers, you and Eddie pretend you're sleeping, Eddie covering both of you up to your necks. You two close your eyes and pretend to have fallen asleep, cuddling innocently, as Steve wakes up and makes his way to the guest bedroom.

You start to move but Eddie grabs your ass with vigor and slams you back down on him, "I didn't say to move, baby. Be a good girl and don't torture me any longer, please." It's demanding, but mainly pleading of him. Eddie's desperate to keep this going for as long as possible.

"I'm not going anywhere, Eddie," you kiss his cheek and Eddie smiles at you, wide and Cheshire-like, like he's up to something.

"So you're saying you're my little cockwarmer now, guess that's better than cock-tease," he chuckles and you swat his arm. "Hey, I like you whether you're a cockwarmer or cock-tease, as long as you're near my cock we don't have a problem," Eddie laughs at his own ridiculous statement, being that he was still completely serious in all he was saying though.

"I'm going to miss our little game though, that was so exciting," you say grinding yourself on Eddie.

"I bet you do, you just love to torture me don't you, babydoll. We can play games all you want, that's fine. But the more you tease me the rougher I'm going to be, you know that though, brat," Eddie chokes you, bringing your lips to his for a passionate steamy kiss.

"Don't threaten me with a good time, babe."

#my fanfics <3 #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x yn #eddie munson smut #eddie munson #eddie munson x female reader #perv!eddie munson

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agoodroughandtumble · 3 months

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Can You Be Good For Me? - Zoro x F!Reader Oneshot

Status: Complete

Pairing: Roronoa Zoro x F!Reader

Summary: Drunken confessions

Warning(s): 18+ Language, alcohol

“Can you be good for me?” The words sloshed in your mouth just like the sake that had caused them to slur out. Half-lidded eyes searched Zoro’s, too drunk to care about the implications of the meaning but too sober to allow him to brush it off.

Zoro’s eyebrows furrowed, “I’m always good to you.”

You rolled your eyes and took another drink. That wasn’t what you were saying and he should know that. A frustrated groan left your lips. “You know what I mean.”

His look of confusion slowly melted into one of amused affection. It was obvious you were at least tipsy which usually meant this was one of the few times you not only acknowledged emotions but actively sought to discuss them. Perhaps some other man would be annoyed at the slightly inebriated confrontation and the fact you could never really day what was on your mind without the inhibition breaking alcohol. But Zoro welcomed it. He knew you well enough to know that this wasn’t malicious – keeping your guard up and youe emotions at bay had kept you safe. Allowing yourself to drop your guard, allowing yourself to be vulnerable only told him how much you trusted him, how much you trusted him to be your safeguard.

He wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you closer to him, thigh touching thigh. And although you were still annoyed at his lack of a solid answer you were quietly relishing in the close proximity and physical contact. You mentally stopped yourself. That was the entire problem. You were becoming far too comfortable and far too physically reliant on someone who your drunken state of mind would describe as having the emotional capacity of a brick. Maybe that was being too harsh, or maybe Zoro had been fucking you for a month without ever venturing further than “I like you, you know I do.”

the first two weeks had been fine. Just sex. Just really fucking good sex. Just scratching an itch and indulging the obvious tension between the pair of you. And then your stupid heart had to get involved. All of a sudden you were craving his attention, desperate to be near him, to understand him on na level no one else could. You got jealous and needy and fantasised about all of the things he could, should say to you. You were fucked.

So of course you had done what any sane person would have done – ignored, repressed, kept fucking him even though every time broke your heart but fuck the way he looked at you in those moments. The way his hands clung onto your hips, your waist, your thighs as he came inside you. The way he whispered into your ear, telling you to let go, he’s got you, just show me, as you came completely undone around him. The fucking eye contact, the fucking moans because you were so clearly made for his cock, and his alone. You let yourself endure the heartbreak. You let yourself fall completely in love with him if it meant those stolen, secret moments could last forever.

But, as there was always a but, the alcohol in your system was giving you a rare sense of confidence and you wriggled out of his grasp slightly – albeit not enough that your thigh no longer touched his – you would allow yourself that much. “You didn’t answer my question.”

Zoro wasn’t entirely sure what you getting at, “I said I’m always good to you.”

You let out a loud sigh, “Yes, but are you good for me?”

His hand cupped your jaw, feeling you automatically tense against his touch. His heart hurt at your reaction, even more so because he didn’t know what he’d done wrong. God, he fucking loved you but you weren’t half infuriating sometimes. “Y/N,” his voice softened as he tried to soothe the tension by caressing your jaw with his thumb, “Stop being cryptic and just tell me what’s wrong.”

You gulped. Selfishly you had been hoping Zoro would be annoyed. That he’d accuse you of being too drunk, too emotional, too hard to deal with and you’d talk about it tomorrow. You could deal with that. Arguing and confrontation would be a hell of a lot easier to deal with than actually saying what you meant – admitting it out loud, making all of the thoughts and feelings real. You could take anything over that. You could handle his rejection if it was because you were being an argumentative arsehole. You couldn’t handle the rejection if it was because he just didn’t love you back.

You bit your lip, the confidence the sake had given you long gone. If it wasn’t for his hand burning against your skin you would have run away but fuck when we was looking at you so fucking earnestly how could you say anything but the truth. “I want you to be good for me not to me because,” you screwed your eyes shut but delaying the inevitable was nigh on impossible, “Because I love you. I’m in love with you, Zoro.”

A pause. An agonizingly long, heart-breaking, soul-crushing pause. You clenched your fists trying to mentally prepare yourself for the “gentle” let down. And then … Zoro laughed. Laughed.

You jerked away from him. A rejection was expected but laughing at you was just fucking cruel. You felt sick. How had you let yourself be to stupid? How had you allowed yourself to fall in love with someone so heartless? You were such an idiot. You stood up to walk away but Zoro grabbed your wrist. Tears threatened to spill. What more could he want now? How much did he honestly want to humiliate you?

“Where are you going?” His voice sounded sincere but you weren’t blind to it any more.

“Away. Where do you think?”

Zoro pulled you back and infuriatingly you stumbled into him. His arms found your waist again to steady you. “You can’t say that and run away. Not to me.”

You wanted to hit him or the table or yourself, anything to get rid of even the smallest fraction of your anger. “You laughed, Zoro. You laughed at me so, and I mean this nicely – go fuck yourself.”

“Hey! Hey…” the hand on your waist started rubbing circles along your spine. Despite yourself the sensation was managing to calm you down. “You’re being an idiot and-”

You tensed again, “So I’m a joke and an idiot? Thanks.”

Zoro sighed and used his other hand to brush your hair behind your ear. “You’re not a joke.” His hand moved down to linger against your neck. “But you are an idiot if you think I laughed at you. I laughed at the ridiculousness of this situation.”

Against your better judgement you relaxed against him, knowing full well you were going to regret this in the morning.

“Y/N, look at me. I laughed because it’s …” he sighed and leant forward to press his forehead against yours, “It’s a cosmic fucking joke that everyone else can see how much I fucking love you except you.”

Another pause. Only this time the onus was on you. “Oh.”

Zoro’s eyebrows raised in amusement, “Oh? At least laughing is more than one syllable.”

A blush rushed across your cheeks and you pressed your lips together to keep from smiling too widely. “Maybe we should forget talking for now, lest it leads to any other misunderstandings.” With that you wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him. And didn’t stop kissing him.

#apparently i can write all of the zoro i want apart from the end to the wip #opla #one piece #roronoa zoro #roronoa zoro x reader #zoro x reader #one piece x reader

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cieloclercs · 9 months

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what would you say (if i told you i love you)? — charles leclerc

PART: 1/?

summary. in which childhood best friends blur the lines between what they’ve always known, and something more

warnings. swearing, reader and charles are oblivious idiots but they’re cute so it’s ok, ending is annoyingly abrupt (sorry)

pairings. charles leclerc x artsy!reader

face claim. tara michelle

author’s note: so this is a multi-part social media fic inspired by this ask that i’ve been working on for a while. as always, all media and pictures used in this belongs to the original creators. hope you guys enjoy! ps, all i really know about art is what i learned in my gcse class (and my teacher was awful) so if i use any incorrect terminology at any point in this series i’m so sorry! i’m trying my best 🫶

liked by pierregasly and 11,386 others

yourusername monaco summer 🐚🌊🦋☁️

view all comments…

yourfriend prettiest ever 🥹

yourusername oh hush you 🤭

username girl your figure 😮

username she literally has my dream body 😭

charles_leclerc no photo credits? 😃

yourusername 🙄🙄 photo creds to char ig

arthur_leclerc looking a little windswept there

yourusername do you want me to block you again

arthur_leclerc no thanks u look very pretty !!!!

yourusername aww thank you arth 🥰

username wait who tf is this girl and how does she know charles??

username she’s his childhood best friend! they’ve known each other since they were five 🫶

username i firmly believe y/n y/l/n is a goddess not a human being

*charles_leclerc liked this comment

username CHARLES WHAT THE FUCK???

liked by carlossainz55 and 2,376,926 others

tagged: yourusername

charles_leclerc opening day for y/n’s latest exhibition, ‘flow’! je suis très fière de toi, mon artiste. ne jamais cesser de rêver 🌊 / beyond proud of you, my artist. never stop dreaming

view all comments…

username now if this isn’t obsessed boyfriend behaviour then i don’t know what is

yourusername aww charlie 🥹 merci de m'avoir soutenu, je vous en serai toujours reconnaissant / thank you for supporting me, i’m forever grateful

charles_leclerc toujours

username and they say they’re just friends?? THIS IS NOT FRIEND BEHAVIOUR

username omg these paintings are so beautiful! what’s the exhibition about?

charles_leclerc it’s a study of water and the ocean!

username they way he’s answering questions about y/n’s own exhibition for her 😭 babes ur not subtle x

username she’s so talented wtf

*charles_leclerc liked this comment

leclerc_pascale Incroyable 😍

yourusername merci, maman 🥰

username SHE CALLS PASCALE MAMAN OH MY GOD???

liked by joris_trouche and 17,936 others

yourusername summer break, week one ✅

view all comments…

username everyone say ‘thank you y/n’ for feeding us the soft charles content 🥹

username thank you y/n 🙏

joris_trouche elvis is the star of this dump

yourusername i’ll let him claw you again

joris_trouche PLEASE DONT

charles_leclerc woah who’s that handsome guy in slide 2? 😏

yourusername you wouldn’t know him he’s kind of annoying x

charles_leclerc ouch

username charles featuring twice?? we’re losing her 😔

username three guesses who took the pictures of y/n

username hmm…joris? 🤔

username try again

username elvis 🤨

username close!! but not quite

username is it maybe…charles?!

*charles_leclerc liked this comment

username bingo!!

username trade lives with me please 😫

charles_leclerc i hope summer never ends

yourusername you and me both

username he doesn’t want to go back to the sf-23 and ferrari fucking up his race every week 😔

*yourusername liked this comment

username LMAO Y/N LIKED

username she’s just as sick of ferrari’s shit as we are

joris_trouche everyone ignoring the fact that i’m also in this dump as well !!!

charles_leclerc mate you’re not even looking at the camera

username GAHAHAHA CHARLES

➜ part 2

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velvrei · 2 years

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RUIN ME

summary: robby is cobra kai’s top male fighter. the reader is cobra kai’s top female fighter. thr two are rivals, but a snake sleepover at kyler’s and robby’s forgetful mindset seems to change that matter.

pairings: robby keene x female!reader (horribly written enemies to lovers)

warnings: smut, porn with a plot, enemies to lovers, mirror sex, unprotected sex (use protection my loves) choking, hair pulling, PDA, slapping, dirty talk, angsty smut

word count: 11k+ (non-edited work)

author’s note: this is my first published work on here but i have many others on wattpad and ao3. (users velvrei for both if you’re anxious and would like to check that out.) i hope you enjoy :)

You didn't see yourself as a negative person unless it regarded Robby Keene. You didn't get along very well with him. Something about him just angered you.

First, it started when he joined Cobra Kai. You had always been a Cobra and thought it was unfair for him to just switch sides as he did. Yes, he had a horrible home life, but you were petty and you wanted all your attention back.

Then, it continued as you interacted with him. Everything he did came off as cocky. He acted like a dick toward you. One time, you got chosen to spar with him and he did it, but every chance he could he took you down even if it wasn't a part of the practice. That little shit.

And now, your hatred for Mr. Keene only grows as he continues to run his life at your dojo. Kreese loved you, Terry loved you, hell even Johnny loved you when he was your sensei because of your awesome listening skills but now this new kid came in and stole all your thunder. What a bitch.

The only person who knew about your hatred was your best friend Tory Nichols. Despite the differences in humor she still slithered her way into your mind.

You walked into the dojo with a dramatic sigh.

"Oh my god, what did Robby do this time?" Tory asked, the sarcasm stung you, in a good way. "Absolutely nothing, that's the problem. I don't understand why he gets all this attention over being a Cobra, like who gives a shit!?" You rambled to her as you took a sip from your water.

Once you finished, "Yeah. I guess Sensei just wanted to take him in or something. He is Johnny Lawrence's son, after all, you gotta expect a little reaction from people." Tory explained, which just angered you more. You didn't give a tiny fuck if he's Johnny's son.

"Oh yeah, big whoop." Your eyes rolled, and just as they fell Sensei Terry and Sensei Kreese strutted out from the back room in suits and dress shoes. What the hell?

"Y/N, Robby, get changed and meet us in the car. We have work to do." Silver said, throwing a dress at you and a suit at Robby. "What..." You whispered as you checked out the dress.

Robby had the same reaction, but after he processed he went into the back bathroom. "I call the bathroom first!" You called as soon as he made it to the door.

"Hell no you don't," Robby snarled, opening the bathroom door and letting it shut loudly to purposely make you irritated. After a minute or two, he walked out in his white button-up and tie. He looked really bad. Kind of.

"Go ahead, don't take forever," He said, brushing past you as his shoulder hit against yours. You stood angered, shooting a crude nickname his way before moping off into the changing room. You deviously switched the dresses to the sexy black dress you left in your bag.

When you walked out, Robby, Sensei Kreese, and Sensei Silver were already in the car. You studied Robby's expression as you opened the door and stepped in. He glanced at you, eyes roaming up and down the dress attempting to ignore the fact that it perfectly hugged your figure.

Sensei Kreese started up his car, while Robby tapped his leg onto the soft car floor impatiently. "What are we even doing out of class anyway?"

Silver's answer brought you back to reality. "We are going over to Daniel and Johnny's dojo. I want to formally apologize but in a way that shows I'm better than him." Sensei explained, glancing back at the two of you in the rearview mirror.

"You said Daniel and Johnny's dojo, right?" Robby said, his tone full of worry and anger. Your eyes rolled themself as you looked out the window, trying to drain out the complaining.

Of course, Robby had to ruin it only a couple of minutes later. "Y/N." You gave him a disgustful stare, his eyes meeting yours in intimidating eye contact. "We're here. Now get the fuck out before Kreese yells at us."

You had absolutely no idea why Terry needed to brag to Daniel about how awesome his dojo and students were, but who knows what could've happened if you cared enough to ask.

You went to open your door when Kreese opened it for you. He came over, "I don't know why he wants to 'apologize' so bad, but let's just get this over with or when we go back the dojo will be in flames." Kreese shared with a laugh.

You gave him a small chuckle then followed Sensei Silver into the dojo, which was unusually outside. The dojo had many rocks that even you could admit were quite beautiful. You stayed back so no one currently in the dojo could see you, per Silver's orders.

You were now shoulder to shoulder with Robby, waiting for the signal from Terry or Kreese. He looked over at you. You noticed a slight change in his pupil size, they dilated slightly and went back to his normal size. Why did they dilate when he looked at you...?

"You good, Keene?" You asked him, that normally wouldn't be your style of language toward him, but he seemed nervous for some reason. "Yeah, I'm good. Why do you care anyway?" There he was. Bitch.

You gave him confused look. Before you could question him, you heard Silver mention his favorite students, followed by your name and Robby's name. You smiled over at Robby, noticing how he said your name first.

Your satin dress fit perfectly, tiny black straps resting on your shoulders, the bottom diagonally cut just below your thigh. Robby was in a matching black suit and tie. Of course, Silver was being dramatic, but you knew if you or Robby refused it wouldn't end well.

"These are my two best students." You had no idea where he was going with this. He continued talking about his dojo and how much of a success it was, and somehow lead to apologize to Daniel for what he did. You still had absolutely no idea, but you didn't question it. "Who will be competing in all valleys? Just wanted to let you kids know what you're up against."

When you entered, you noticed a boy with a large purple mohawk staring at you like he was the lion and you were the gazelle. Gross. When you went to leave, the same boy came up and grabbed your arm. "Hey, pretty lady."

"Hawk, leave her alone." A pale boy with black hair said, trying his best to intervene. "Demetri, back off." He spat. He turned back to you, "You've got like, the best ass I've ever seen," Oh hell no, "You'd be so pretty if you smiled." His words made you fucking angry. "You got a boyfriend? I mean even if you do I'm sure I'm way better than him," He said cockily, his eyes roamed your body as you could feel the anger build up inside of you. What an asshole.

You were tempted to do something about him yourself, but before you could get the thought out of your head you felt an arm around you. "Hello, my love, is there a problem here?"

You looked over and we were met with Robby's face closer than it had ever been. He gave you a wink. You tried to hide your confusion while he turned toward Hawk.

"Why is your arm around her?" Hawk questioned, he wasn't buying it. Robby snarled, "Cause she's my girlfriend?" You saw an older blonde man's head tilt at that statement.

"Ain't no way she's your girl." A taller boy with black fluffy hair chimed in. You gave him your cruelest look, then turned to Robby. "I am indeed his girl." You turned to the boy with the mohawk in front of you, "What was your name again? Pigeon?" You asked.

You heard snarls from the inside of the dojo while you walked off quickly, Robby's hand in yours. When you turned the corner you quickly let go of his hand. "I didn't need your help. I could've handled that myself. But thank you." You scoffed, getting back into Silver's car.

Robby held back his anger before getting in on the other side. You both silently waited for both of your Senseis, the tension between you and Robby so thin you could cut it with a butter knife.

He cleared his throat, "Why are you such a bitch to me?" At first, you thought you hadn't heard him correctly, but when you realized he had actually said that you made sure your shock and anger were clear in your expression. "Excuse me?"

Both of Robby's eyebrows raised, "I've been nothing but nice to you," That was a lie, "And you just treat me so horribly. It makes no sense."

You sighed, trying to control some of your anger. "I am only a bitch to you when you are to me. So maybe if you weren't always such a selfish douchebag all the time you'd get some amiability." Robby saw how angered you were by the question and somehow just found it funny. He really is a dick.

Robby was unable to bicker back when both of your Sensei's opened the car door on each side. "So unbelievable!" Terry shouted, swinging his leg and body inside.

The ride back to the dojo was silent except for Terry. Once he started ranting about something, it only stopped when the subject was changed but if he felt like it, he could be on that annoying topic for hours.

Even though the visit was brief, it was eventful, not for the tournament but you and Robby. When you were alone in that car with him, your hatred changed, and the tension that was once conflictual became suggestive. You couldn't believe how quickly your relationship with Robby could change from only your perspective, but it did. You hated it.

When you arrived back at the dojo you walked in first, desperate to get away from the idiot that was Robby, you grabbed your bag and without a second thought walked straight into the bathroom.

You assumed Sensei would continue the session after, so, you figured why not mess with Robby a little? You saw how amazed he looked when he saw your figure in that dress, so, let's make it better.

You quickly changed into a pair of gym shorts Tory had given you, she told you they'd make your butt look even better than it already did so you gave it a try.

You watched yourself in the mirror, scrunching up the long part of the shorts to make them shorter, then turning around and scrunching up the shorts around your ass to make your ass look better. Thank you, Tory Nichols.

You were just in a sports bra and figured that alone was fine, your outfit wasn't too random either sense your sports bra was black and the shorts were magenta, you left your gi outside of the changing room, so you would walk right past Robby when you went to get it.

Pulling open the curtain gained the attention of Tory, who just gave you a smirk as turned around and grabbed your bag. When you turned back around Tory had her jaw dropped and was almost more excited than you were.

You went to the back and placed your bag on the ground; you expected Robby to be training with the others, but he was there, bench pressing what appeared to be 135 pounds; you weren't surprised since you'd seen him lift higher before.

When you walked in, your gi was hanging up in the far corner, and as you went to get it, Robby naturally stopped for a drink of water, and of course, you walked right past him in those skimpy shorts. When you think about it, the situation was kind of hilarious.

When you turned to leave the room, you noticed Robby's eyes were looking somewhere else to make it appear as if he wasn't staring. You knew he was. Mission accomplished.

You walked passed him and his eyes caught yours as he took a sip of water. "Next time, don't be so obvious, Robby." He spat out some of his water, he knew you were bold but he wasn't expecting to be called out.

You walked out of the room with a proud smirk on your face. "Oh, god, what now?" Tory asked, taking a sip of water herself. You pointed to Robby, who was in the back nearly choking on his water, attempting not to make a mess.

"Damn, Y/N! You did that?" She asked, turning back to you. You nodded and hid your smile, "I caught him staring and I called him out," You spoke, your words sounding like gibberish because of how much you held back your laughter.

Tory began laughing with you. "Looks like you got him hooked. Whatcha' gonna do now?" You turned to Tory and simply smiled at her, "Absolutely nothing. It's his turn."

Later that day, Silver told you Robby had forgotten his bag and you were the one who had to drop it off to him because he was "busy". At first, you thought he was just mistaken sense you remembered him living at the dojo, but when he told you Robby had bought himself an apartment, you were beyond curious to get into his business.

Tory: bae getting that enemies to lovers trope

You: no gtfo

Tory: don't lie to me, yk if he asked you to make out and then be strangers for the rest of your life you'd say yes

You: girl

Tory: have fun ;) Practice safe sex btw

You: TORY.

You waited, knocking on his door a bunch as the indecisive male himself swung the door open in a frustrated manner. He stood shirtless, his body was toned, you stopped your eyes from traveling down to his hard abs, his shorts pulled slightly below them as if his v-line was glistening just for you.

He gave you a harsh stare, "Why are you here?" He didn't even seem to notice his karate bag hanging at your hip.

You threw it to him, "Here. Silver said you forgot it and told me to bring it to you. He was busy." You spoke quickly, going to walk away but were stopped by Robby. "Sorry if this is a bad time," You mentioned, pointing out his current tired state.

He sighed, "Thanks. It's fine, I guess. Are you going to Kyler's house tomorrow? He invited us all over to spend the night and watch movies." He asked, leaning in the doorway. Your lips formed a smirk when you caught his eyes looking you up and down.

You cleared your throat, "Kid's an ass sometimes but he sure knows how to have fun, so probably. Depends on how I'm feeling after practice tomorrow. Why you wanna know, Keene?" Robby zoned out, his eyes directly staring into yours as he suddenly remembered where he was and what you had said, "Just wondering, why you gotta make it weird, Y/N."

You shrugged, "You're the one who was staring." You gave him another crude look up and down before going to walk away. "See you tomorrow, Keene!" You shouted down the hallway as Robby finally shut his door.

♛

chat - queen cobras

the cobra kai dojo (no senseis)

tory ❌

so small change of plan bitches

there is no longer space in my car

someone else has to give y/n a ride

kyler💩

i'm not giving her a ride

tory ❌

correct you're riding with me

way to use your brain asshat

kenny🦶

💀💀 bruh

i obviously can't drive so

tory ❌

robby?

robby🧔🏻‍♀️

no.

tory ❌

bro robby

robby🧔🏻‍♀️

nope

kyler💩

canceling the party

kyler💩

gtfo no you aren't

robby come on bro

tory ❌

it's a ride it's not that bad

kenny🦶

pause.

kyler💩

what kinda ride🤓

tory❌

you guys are weird

don't leave me with them robby

just drive y/n it's not that bad

robby🧔🏻‍♀️

ugh

i hate u

y/n🤑🤑🤧

tory what the fuck

so i can't go?

tory ❌

only if robby changes his mind

y/n

robby pls

robby🧔🏻‍♀️

no ma'am

y/n

please bro

ill do anything

kenny🦶

pause

tory

now wait a minute...

y/n

STFU

robby

anything..?😏

y/n

gtfo

** later that day **

Somehow the gang had convinced Robby into driving you to Kyler's. It thankfully worked when Kyler threaded to cancel and never reschedule, we all knew he could never actually pull that off, but he bluffed it and it finally broke Robby.

There you sat in the passenger seat, awkwardly scrolling through Instagram as Kyler's house was almost ten minutes from the dojo. Music was playing quietly in the background as Robby used his left hand to turn the steering wheel, rounding a curb before changing the radio station a bunch.

"Nothing good on here," He mumbled, before finding a channel with some random country music. "Perfect."

You gave him the weirdest side eye before changing the channel once again. "Hell no. Now I know you're lying. No one actually likes country music unless it's a joke."

Robby smirked, "Maybe I'll be the first then. Country music is definitely underrated."

You scoffed, "Not even close. Country music is overrated and should not exist in the first place. If it's going to be country at least make it Like Bryan. That's the only good country artist. Or just don't play country at all."

Robby rolled his eyes before just silencing the radio fully, to stop the bickering. "Whatever. Always gotta ruin the fun."

"If that's what you call fun, then tonight won't be much fun because your bar is very low." You stated as Robby turned down Kyler's very busy street, and pulled into his driveway without a single bump or scratch.

You went to open your door after he parked but you watched as the lock came undone and still there was no movement from the door. "Shit, why of all days does it have to jam now. You're going to have to get out this way, Y/N."

Your eyes widened as you realized what he meant. He technically could've gotten out first and then let you out but this way would be more fun. You loved teasing him.

Your seatbelt was now undone, and you got up on Robby, swinging your leg over to straddle him. It was difficult for you both to maintain your composure while Robby was wearing only a black tank top and grey sweatpants. Once you realized what you felt, you ignored it. He stared at you with wide eyes and pink cheeks as you slung your other leg around his, got out of the car, and left him sitting there like a deer in headlights with his head back and his breathing heavy.

What the hell just happened?

ROBBY'S POV;

Y/N was on top of me, the way she looked down at me was, fuck, so hot. I hated it. She had to get out my way because my fucking door jammed, but honestly, I wasn't mad about it. I never realized how beautiful she was until now but I'd never let her hear me say that because she'd never let it down.

As she swung her leg around and got off the top of me, it was so difficult for me not to get hard, even if it was just a simple movement such as standing up. She started walking away and I took that as my chance to adjust myself so my dick wasn't noticeable, of course, she sends me into Kyler's house with a fucking boner as if she did it on purpose. Little snake.

I grabbed my overnight bag and all the stuff I needed before following her into Kyler's house. I walked inside closely behind Y/N, everyone already seemed to be there and Tory looked at Y/N wide-eyed before looking back at me.

"You guys took forever," Tory mumbled. I gave her an sarcastic laugh before setting my stuff down on Kyler's kitchen island. Kyler threw himself onto his dark brown couch, "So, we can do anything you guys want. The house is ours until 8 pm tomorrow."

I laughed and opened his fridge, I didn't give a shit cause Kyler didn't either, I've been to his house quite a few times surprisingly and he always had the best food. I hadn't been invited over for dinner much, but I took advantage of it when I was. Kyler's mom makes the best dinners.

I grabbed a Fanta and watched as Y/N spun around in the chair next to the kitchen island. "Grab me one." I rolled my eyes as I grabbed a second soda and threw it at her. She gave me a fake gasp, "Now it's gonna explode. Bitch," She mumbled the last part under her breath but I chose not to comment on it knowing it wouldn't end well.

"By the way guys, I invited Aisha. She's cool and she's technically still a Cobra at heart." Tory spoke.

I watched as Y/N's face lit up, "I miss Aisha, I'd never be mad at that." I tried my hardest not to look at her, but it still felt a bit awkward after what happened in the car.

"Where's your bathroom?" Kyler lead Y/N to the bathroom and as soon as Y/N was out of sight Kenny turned to me.

"So, Robby, you and Y/N make out yet?" Did I hear that shit right? I almost spit out my soda. I quickly swallowed, "How high are you, bro?"

Kenny laughed, "Not that high, yet. But it's obvious you and Y/N like each other. Hell, when you walked in here you looked like you two had just banged." Kyler and Tory both looked taken aback by Kenny's bold statement. Kenny noticed, "What, am I wrong?"

Tory laughed, still somewhat shocked, "No! Just didn't expect to hear that shit from you. Kids gotta point though," Tory agreed, as Kyler came back into the room.

"I could hear you all from the bathroom. You talk very loud. But I agree. Robby, you gotta make your move tonight. Just no sex on the family couch please." They were crazy. Right?

"I'm not having sex with Y/N on the family couch, Jesus Christ," I laughed, "Don't be weird you guys. I'm probably not going to have sex with her at all. Something awkward did happen in the car, though."

Kyler smiled, "Good! There was room in Tory's car, that was just our little push. So, what exactly happened between you two little lovebirds?"

SECOND PERSON POV;

When you dried your hands on Kyler's light blue hand towel, you heard bits of laughter coming from the main room. You began to listen, and heard Kyler not so nonchalantly holler and then a mix of gibberish-sounding words you couldn't put out from how far away you were.

You opened the door, the loud sound ruining your plan of sneaking up to hear their conversation. Goddamnit.

As you strolled back into Kyler's beautiful home, you heard Robby with a million-dollar idea. "Y/N, Hawk was being weird to you, earlier, right? When we were with Sensei Silver?" All you could do was nod.

"Ew! That bird? What'd he do this time?" Hawk had a reputation at the Cobra Kai dojo, he was known as a traitor, pussy, bird, and many other menacing nicknames that are probably best not to be mentioned.

"He was just being weird, like flirting but in a weird and unattractive way. It really wasn't that big of a deal, though."

Robby didn't care how dramatic it may seem but he felt his heart sink a little with how unbothered you were. That's a good thing, obviously, but also it wasn't okay, so Robby felt something needed to be done about it.

"What do we say about a little payback?"

♛

That's how the five, now six of you had your two cars parked and were at Hawk's doorstep, multiple packs of toilet paper and multiple egg cartons in hand. Aisha had joined and brought all the supplies on her way. It was perfect.

There you stood shoulder to shoulder with Aisha and Robby, egg carton in hand, as you all quickly threw a bunch of eggs in his yard and at his house. You turned to Aisha, "Aren't you and Hawk friends?"

She scoffed, "Eli and I were friends. After he turned into Hawk, he was like a whole different person. He thinks he's badass but in reality, he's just fucking ignorant. Then one day he told me he usually doesn't like big girls and that he caught feelings for me. I smacked him in the face and that was when I moved." You held in the urge to chuckle as the image of Aisha slapping the shit out of Hawk filled your mind.

"Damn, he may not be a badass but you sure are. Go to you for sticking up for yourself. However, I don't blame him for flirting with you. You're gorgeous. He was an ass, though."

Aisha nodded, about to give a response when Kyler gathered everyone's attention. "Okay, someone goes ring the doorbell and we'll all drive away." Kenny scoffed, "What if he has a ring camera?"

Kyler laughed and ran to his car, "He probably does, that's why I brought these. Which one of you daring souls would like to take on the challenge?" Kyler asked, holding up two Ghostface masks from Halloween.

Robby laughed before grabbing both and handing you one. He gave you a huge grin, before putting his mask on. Why the hell was that hot?

You put yours on and followed him up to the door as the others got into each car, ready to drive away Robby quickly rang the doorbell and you used some toilet paper to cover up the ring doorbell before sprinting as fast as you could back to Robby's car. You hopped in the back assuming the door was still jammed and tore your mask off as Robby left his on and quickly drove sped the road.

He tore his mask off, his breathing was heavy and you found yourself once again to Robby in a Ghostface mask, watching as he used one arm to steer and the other to throw the masks into the backseat.

Still, out of breath, he panted words that you could barely recognize, "That was fun," His chest was heaving as he turned back to look at you, tiny drips of sweat forming on his forehead as his eyes met with yours. "You still breathing, Y/N?"

You ignored how your heart skipped a beat when he said that, and then grabbed your phone and crawled into the front seat. "Totally. Back to Kyler's house, we go. Wonder what other ideas he has for us," You laughed, checking your phone to see a text from Tory.

Tory: we picking up some pizzas and movies while we're out. You and Robby can head back to Kyler's house and enjoy your alone time ;)

You hid your smile before typing a quick response.

You: thank you HAHA but make sure to look at my movie list I sent you earlier, all the good ones are on there

Tory: yes because I'm sure Robby would enjoy seeing you simp over Billy Loomis. Have fun babe not answering you anymore so you're forced to interact with him😘😘

You: fuck you

Tory: love you too

You: you're actually not gonna answer?

Seen 1m ago

God damnit, Tory. You clicked the side of your phone which turned it off and kept your eyes on the road in front of you. You felt Robby's beautiful hazel eyes gazing contently at you, you chose to ignore it and instead began speaking which caused him to stop staring, "Tory said they're picking up food and movies, and said we can just go back to Kyler's and wait for them."

Robby smiled and looked out the window on his side before turning back to you, "You realize they're trying to get us to hook up, right?" You started laughing, "Yeah I'm well aware. They're trying so hard, too."

After a couple of seconds of on-edge silence, Robby broke it by turning up the radio a little. "Let's drive around for a bit. They can wait if they have to," He spoke, turning the radio on before handing you the aux cord, "Sense you hate what I chose so much, put on your playlist. Let's see if there's anything good."

You smiled before purposely grabbing the cord out of his hand in an aggressive manner, and plugging it into your phone. He just shook his head and laughed, focusing on the dark roads before him. It was around 11 pm, and there were barely any cars out, which was expected considering how unpopular the roads near Kyler's house were.

You scrolled through each playlist that you had for each different mood, before choosing your main one and hitting shuffle. The song Slut Me Out by NLE Choppa began playing and you went to skip it but Robby stopped you by gently gripping your wrist. "This song's on there for a reason, let it play."

You gulped and nodded, the lyrics playing as Robby turned it up enough to the point where it almost hurt your ears, which was technically just the right amount.

After that song played along with a few others that both of you screamed all the lyrics to, he watched as you picked up your phone to check for messages and saw a Lana Deal Ray song had just started.

"You listen to Lana?" He questioned, his tone sounding very confused. You scoffed, "I'm surprised you even know who she is, yes I listen to Lana. This song is one of my favorites," You shared, as West Coast began loudly blaring. The beat that dropped on that song was sexy, the ending especially and it was perfect for you and Robby's current state of tolerable enemies and friends with tension.

He surprisingly knew all these lyrics too, and in this one, you could sing all of them without a second thought. As the chorus and small beat drop came, you felt your body get chills as it does every time, watching as Robby rested his head back onto his seat, lip-syncing some of the lyrics and shouting the others.

After that part kind of calmed, the next beat drop came just as fast as it left, the soft swing of the music making you feel like you were the queen of the world. It continued through and almost got to the part with the even sexier background music, you felt Robby's eyes intensely staring at you as if he was playing a scenario through his head. You didn't blame him, this song was heaven.

As the sensual part of the song began, you gave him a soft smile and rolled your window down so your hair was flying, he rolled down all the others including the sunroof, took your seatbelt off, and stuck your head out of the window. Robby watched and felt himself get hard once again but not by your touch, just at the sight of you.

You made sure to arch your back a little and scream the lyrics, holding onto the top of his car as if you needed leverage. Robby felt as if this moment was from a music video and you were the main actress the whole video focused on. You were mesmerizing.

He felt his cheeks were red and quickly turned his head to look away from you as you brought yourself back into the car and Robby pulled into Kyler's driveway. All the other cars already sat in the driveway. You grinned, "See you inside."

He sat there for the second time that day, his cheeks red, his dick hard and unsure of what the hell just happened and how you gave him yet another boner. You laughed to yourself and practically ran inside, opening the door and rushing over to Tory and Aisha to tell them all about what just happened.

After about twenty seconds Robby walked inside. At first sight, it once again looked like the two of you had just fucked, but this time it looked worse than before.

This time you looked over and Robby and could see his dick through his pants. You found it crazy how you could go so quickly from disliking each other to flirting constantly, but you honestly weren't complaining. You finally realize how fucking sexy Robby was, completely disregarding how you saw him as your karate rival not even an hour ago. That moment you just shared with him definitely made it difficult to go back to just that.

♛

After your eventful car ride with Robby, the group played a bunch of dirty but funny card games and ended the night with a decade movie marathon, where you watched two movies from a decade of your choice and then chose the better movie and went down the like to explain why, it was now around 5 am, still fully dark, which meant everyone was sleeping until you woke up with a dry feeling in your throat and a sudden need for water.

So, you left the huge fort you all had made and made your way to Kyler's kitchen, trying to avoid making any loud noises so everyone could get their sleep.

You grabbed a plastic cup from Kyler's kitchen cabinet, opened the fridge, grabbed the ice-cold filtered water, and poured it since Kyler said his tap water was disgusting. You filled your cup about halfway and quickly took a sip, noticing Kyler had a window above his kitchen sink and saw a kid riding his dirt bike in the middle of the night.

You laughed to yourself but your laughter quickly went away when you felt hands poking your sides and almost spilling the water you had just beautifully poured for yourself.

You turned to see Robby, and hit his shoulder, "You bitch, I almost spilled my water," You whispered yelled, before hitting his shoulder again and angrily setting your water down.

"Yes, 'cause you spilling your water would be the end of the world," He whispered sarcastically, before grabbing a plastic cup for himself. You watched as he reached around you, the veins in his hands flexing as he has each arm on each side of you, his front lightly grazing your back as you felt butterflies in your stomach and somewhere lower.

Robby poured his water from the filter just as you did, and removed all contact from your body so he was now fully away from you. "Why are you smiling?" You asked him, noticing his sly smile, wanting to wipe it off his stupid face.

Robby felt his strong demeanor slowly fade away as he saw your siren eyes, and heard what you finally said, "Stop smiling before I give you a reason to," It was cheesy, but still made his cheeks pink. You continued, "Are you blushing?"

He shook his head and suddenly felt embarrassed, "Hell no," He lied, you knew damn well he was and it was just getting darker. "Are you sure? You seem very nervous, or that could just be my imagination."

You brushed a piece of hair out of his face, before looking him directly in the eyes. "You're so pretty, you know that?" You dragged your hand from his hair, softly dragging down his cheek, and then on his chest. You felt how quickly his heart was beating. "Your heart is beating very fast, maybe you are nervous." You knew exactly how to push Robby's buttons and it absolutely infuriated him. Robby wasn't going to lie, part of the way you were speaking definitely turned him on. His cheeks were bright red.

That was his final straw, he pushed you to the inside corner near the fridge, holding your hips in place so you were pinned in front of him. "Quit acting like a bitch before I treat you like one." He kept his hand hard on your hip and brought the other hand to cup your face. You swallowed hard but wanted to remain in your teasing, ways, so you continued.

"You can be infuriating, Y/N. Maybe if you weren't such a selfish brat I would've liked you sooner." He huffed, his words fanning in your face, his lips millimeters from yours.

"So you like me? Took some guts to finally admit that. Took you quite a while didn't it?" Your eyes shot deeply into his beautiful green eyes that now seemed hazel due to the darkness. You saw how hot Robby was when he was mad. You made a mental note to push his buttons more often. He let go of your hips which would definitely leave some type of fingerprint mark, he downed his water and threw the cup into the dishwasher, walking back over to you before grabbing you by the shirt, "Lose the attitude before I fuck it out of you."

He walked back to the place he was sleeping, now leaving you standing there in your tracks like a deer in headlights. Your breathing was heavy and you were now definitely nervous about what came next. You couldn't wait to tell Tory and Aisha about this.

♛

When you woke up once again, it was almost 2 pm. You sat at Kyler's kitchen island eating a bowl of Fruity Pebbles, in the seat between both Tory and Aisha while the boys were eating in the gaming room near the back of the house.

You continued to take another bite and quickly finished it, "Something happened last night between me and Robby." After those words were said, both girls immediately gained a huge interest.

"What?!"

"You better start talking, babe."

You cleared your throat, "Well, basically I went to go get a drink of water around 4 am, and Robby apparently did too. And then I started teasing him because why not and then he kind of snapped." Tory's mouth fell open, "What kind of snap?" Aisha grinned, "Yeah was it like a sexy snap or a snap like where he forever hated you?"

You laughed before answering, "It was honestly both. But then after I teased him he basically pinned me against the fridge and told me to quit acting like a bitch before he treated me like one," After you said that both girls were extremely shocked and Aisha almost spilled her cereal bowl, "Oh there's more," You added with a laugh. "And then, after that, he said something like if you weren't such a brat he would've liked me sooner," You watched as the girls' jaws dropped wider, "And to top it all off, he ended it with Lose the attitude before I fuck it out of you. Which is my personal favorite."

Tory spit out her cereal and milk that time and began laughing with Aisha at the incident but then remembered why she did that. "Jesus Christ! I didn't know he had it in him." Aisha commented before Tory nodded, cleaning up her mess. Tory quickly moved on, "So, you gonna let him do it?"

"What let him fuck my attitude out of me? Hell yeah, just don't know when. I'll just continue teasing him and let him make the move when he wants." Aisha and Tory both nodded, quickly changing the subject as the boys walked into the same room. Tory and Kyler have each other 'the' look as Robby walked to the sink to grab a glass and get some orange juice out of the fridge.

Robby's eyes met yours as you went to take another bite of your soggy cereal, watching as he eyed you up and down and slowly took a sip of his juice, staring into your soul before walking back into the game room with the guys following closely behind him.

You all started laughing after hearing the door loudly close.

The sleepover was definitely fun, and extremely eventful. You and Tory were the last to leave Kyler's house around 7 pm when Kyler came out of his room. "Uhh, Y/N, Robby forgot his overnight bag. Could you bring that to him?" Kyler sucked at hiding his smirk and laugh knowing exactly what he was doing.

"Is this-" Before you could even finish, Tory interrupted you. "Yes, this is our way of setting up you and Robby. Now go get your dick, babe. I'll be in the car in a sec." She said, basically pushing you out of the door.

After about a minute, she walked out and hopped into the driver's side. "Okay, the plan is, you're going to Robby's, and I'm not coming to get you for a few hours, so, just hang out at his place for a little."

You went to argue but she just shushed you, "Nope, not a word. Even if you don't want to fuck him that's fine do what you want babe but you need quality time with him, and this is the push you need. So make the best out of it. You only live once my love," She said, putting on her makeup in the mirror as she still somehow drove perfectly.

You watched as she applied her mascara, "Where are you going all prettied up?" Normally if it were one of your other friends you'd hate asking that but you knew Tory, she wouldn't put in the time and effort of doing makeup because she usually hated it, so when she did it, it was rare and for a good reason.

She smiled, "I have a date. I'll text you when I'm done so you know when I'm on my way. Or I can just drive your car over. Whatever works best." Somehow within your short conversation, she was already at Robby's apartment complex.

She blew you a kiss goodbye as you got out and grabbed Robby's duffle bag from the back, swinging it around your shoulder and walking into the building. Once you got to Robby's room you knocked on the door a few times as you did last time, so he knew it was you. He swung the door open, and didn't seem too thrilled at first but lightened up when he saw his bag." Y/N. I didn't even realize I forgot that until now." You gave him a small smile, "Yeah, Kyler realized and sent me here. Sorry if I once again have horrible timing."

He smiled and looked at the ground, "That's okay, you're not interrupting anything," Where did this nice guy come from? "You can come in if you'd like."

You accepted his offer after remembering what Tory had said and went inside, he closed the door and then walked into the kitchen which was visible from the front door.

He grabbed a glass and then another, "You want anything to drink?" No seriously where did this gentleman come from, not even 24 hours ago he had you pinned against Kyler's fridge and was threatening you with a good time. "I'm okay, thank you."

It definitely felt awkward, those moments you shared running through your head as Robby sat down on the couch not too far from you. You didn't know what to say or do, or if you should try starting a conversation. That's when you knew this was painfully awkward.

Robby cleared his throat, thank god, "You wanna watch a movie? I have a lot, you can choose." You gave him a smile for saving the awkwardness, "Sure. Let's see what you got."

After a surprising few minutes of scrolling, you decided on the category of marvel and let Robby choose which movie. Whatever movie he chose would say a lot about him, so when he chose Thor Ragnorok you were definitely thrilled.

As the movie began to play, Robby turned to you, "Are you cold? Would you like a blanket?" His offer seemed like he was being sweeter than normal, and it made you curious, but you weren't complaining. That kid was being nice.

"Eh, not really but I probably will get cold." You admitted with a tiny laugh as Robby grabbed the fluffiest blanket you had ever seen off of his other couch. He sprawled it across you, only leaving a little to himself as the movie began and you couldn't wait for cause that was definitely one of your favorites.

A little after half into the movie, you felt Robby's eyes on you. He was staring, the same way he did during your little detour from Hawk's house. This time, instead of ignoring it, you looked over at him.

"You know, Robby. I notice you staring at me. I just don't say anything." You mentioned, and he felt his cheeks go bright pink as they had many times the day before. Robby seemed embarrassed as if his whole nice demeanor disappeared cause of what you had just said. You didn't even say anything wrong, Robby just hated being called out.

"Sorry," He grumbled, turning back to the movie. 'Don't be a bitch.' That was what you wanted to say, but you kept it in for now knowing it would probably not end very well for you.

After another 5 minutes, you began overthinking the whole situation and making yourself angry, thinking about all the times when he had teased you and you said nothing about it, or when he would be mad at you for no reason.

You turned to him after a good few minutes of thought, "Robby, what the hell is your problem with me? Like why does everything I do make you mad? I'm not even intentionally doing anything at this point I'm just being myself and for some reason, that seems to make you-"

"I don't have you Y/N, you just make me so mad. You act like a bitch and then fucking tease me or whatever the fuck that was yesterday!" Robby shouted, standing up. There goes nice Robby. You knew something was up.

"I do not act like a bitch! It's all fun and games but clearly, you can't handle that."

"No, apparently I can't! I'm sorry for not liking when my fucking friend or enemy or whatever the fuck we are confuses the shit out of me to the point where I'm literally questioning myself! You act like the whole work revolves around you! Maybe if you didn't act like such a slut all the time I'd be able to" And there it was. A loud smacking sound on Robby's face finally made him shut the fuck up.

"Never speak to me like that again." Robby felt more angered, but also a little turned on with how hot you looked right then.

"What if I-" Smack. Again, and this time he felt less angered and more turned on over anything. "Y/N..." The way your name rolled off his lips so smoothly, made you get butterflies. Smack. You smacked him once again just for fun, not as hard but after that, he began to lean in toward you. So you stopped him, grabbing his neck and bringing him closer to you.

"Okay, I-I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that," He spoke just above a whisper, voice cracking due to your hold on his neck.

You sat a couple of seconds and considered excepting his apology, and when you let go he almost instantly grabbed you and pinned you on the couch, wrapping his hand around your neck. "Had to switch it up. I like it better this way."

You tilted your head back slightly and your mouth slowly fell open, the need to breathe leaving your mind because of how turned on you were. You could sacrifice a couple of breaths if that meant being choked by Robby Keene.

His taunting words somehow made you wet, and you knew you were in for a long night of fun and trouble. Robby kissed your lips with his hand still around your throat, then began placing wet kisses along every part of your skin he could.

His breath was heavy on his hand and the part of your neck that was uncovered, "Can I?" He asked carefully, tugging at your top. When you nodded he wasted no time and brought it above your head practically ripping it in the process.

He continued kissing down your chest, slowly loosening his grip on your neck and then letting go completely. The sight of you in just your bra made him even harder as he continued down, noticing a drawing near your rib. "Is this.. a tattoo?" His words were slow as if he was contemplating whether or not he should ask his question. You laughed before running your fingers through his hair, "Yes, love. I got it not too long ago, so be gentle, there." Those words turned him on more than they probably should've, but he was too flustered to complain.

He looked up at you, his eyes filled with lust and want. He continued once again to kiss down your stomach, you could tell the tattoo made him even more of a horny animal, and you were excited for him to see the others you had sprawled around your body. "Can I take this off?" His consent was very attractive, even though it was indeed the bare minimum the way his voice was perfectly raspy made it ten times sexier.

"Knock yourself out, baby."

The sudden use of pet names made his pants tighten. He sharply inhaled before skillfully undoing your bra with one of his hands and letting it drop along with his jaw when he saw the second tiny ink drawing just below your breast.

"Got a bunch as soon as I turned eighteen. I have more if you wanna see them," The breathy sound of Robby led you to believe this man had a tattoo kink, so you did the expected, "Robby, do my tattoos turn you on?"

It made your heart flutter realizing how quickly Robby can switch from dominant to submissive, you didn't know what would happen next and you loved it. It was exhilarating. Robby held in his need and looked up. "Yes, they do. A lot." You laughed. "I could tell. Don't be embarrassed. 'S cute."

He quickly forgot what had just happened and continued his painfully slow teasing. He kissed down until he got to your pants, then asked once more if he could remove your clothes, to which you replied yes, and when you did he tore it off as if he was a hungry animal. It was fucking hot how eager he was.

After removing your bottoms, he grabbed both of your thighs, squeezing them and then slapping them until he was satisfied. He took off your underwear after asking for consent and hearing and seeing your answer and aggressive nod. He slapped your thighs once more before tightly gripping them and throwing them over each of his shoulders.

He left no time for hesitation, he licked a long stripe up your clit, your moans motivated him as he messily continued, he couldn't even compare to how good you tasted.

Your moans loudly filled up all the sound space in the room, feeling the sudden need to squirm as Robby stuck a finger inside of you and he continuously flicked your clit with his tongue. Swear words and gibberish nonsense fell from your lips as Robby pumped his finger in and out of you, your toes curling and your head practically throwing itself back.

Robby looked up at you with a lustful look, "Right there?" He asked, holding his finger at a spot he somehow knew would make you go feral. "Oh my god, yes!" You shouted, his name falling from your swollen lips over and over.

"Does It feel good, baby? Let me hear you." You bucked up your hips but were stopped when Robby held them against the couch. "Use your words." His mean tone turned you on, even more, the struggle to move made you hornier by the second.

"It feels so good, Robby, don't stop. Please." He smirked to himself before continuing. You rolled your eyes to the back of your head. "Look at me, Y/N. No one coming but you."

His snarky comment makes your legs shiver, every ounce of your body feeling numb as you looked him directly in the eye, squeezing a handful for some sort of a release sense you'd be reaching yours soon. "You gonna come, my love?" Robby's soft words made you shiver, "Yes, Robby, oh my god."

You couldn't believe Robby Keene was right in front of you, watching you orgasm for the first time, it was the sexiest thing he had ever seen. The white liquid kept spilling out of you, it finally stopped but your legs continued to shiver as Robby wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. At the sound of it, it may have sounded weird, but in person, it was fucking hot.

His smile was cheeky but bright and it made your stomach gain butterflies, he came up to you, and grabbed you by the neck, bringing your upper half slightly upwards. "I told you to look at me, babe." His words were stern, and they made you hungry for more. "I'm sorry, I promise I'll listen next time."

He let you off with a small warning before letting go of you, then standing up completely and then walking into his room. After a couple of seconds, he shouted for you, "Y/N, come here!"

You basically ran into his room regarding how excited you were, and when you saw him standing in front of his mirror, hand on the desk as he leaned his body weight on it, just staring at himself in the mirror. The mirror was right next to from the wall his bed was up against, next to the door. The mirror was huge, definitely more than a make-up stand type desk as if it was used for something else.

You stopped at the door, but he signaled you over with his two fingers before mumbling a 'come here.

You walked over to where he was, and he quickly moved your now messy hair away from your neck and slowly began kissing it before whispering something that at first sounded like gibberish, "Look at yourself."

He looked up and look at your gorgeous face through the mirror, "You're going to watch your face, as I fuck you senseless in this mirror. Mkay?" His soft tone sent shivers down your spine and made your knees weaken.

"Undress. Tap my arm a few times if it becomes too much. You're okay with this right?" His demeanor shift made you fall for him even more, even though it technically was once again the bare minimum you still were about to melt.

You nodded, "Use your words, beautiful." You began to strip and then corrected yourself, "Yes. I'm okay with this, please just, touch me, Robby." When you finally undressed, "As you wish, my love." Robby was already shirtless so he took his pants off and went to take his boxers off but you stopped him before he could.

You undressed him yourself, pulling down his boxers in a teasingly slow manner, looking him in the eye in the most sensual way possible, you knew it would make him nervous. He looked back at you; you noticed how he struggled to stare back until he looked away. "You nervous, baby?"

He turned you around and lightly wrapped his hand around your throat, slowly increasing the pressure to the point where he almost cut off your airway but not completely.

"I am not nervous," His two fingers went straight to your clit and began to rub fast circles, "Stop treating me like I'm your bitch. Now watch yourself in this goddamn mirror while I fuck you until your legs are shaking." You wanted to give him a sassy remark but the hold on your neck stopped you from verbally communicating.

Robby's lips latched onto your neck as he slowly moves his fingers, then places a line of kisses along your shoulder as he continued his assault on your clit, "That feels good, baby?"

"So good, fuck," You moaned under your breath, your legs beginning to shake and squirm as you felt Robby's hands remove the contact from your clit. You were frustrated at first but held in a gasp when you felt his tip at your entrance.

"You ready, baby? Remember you can back out at any time." His offer sounded nice but getting fucked by him sounded even nicer, so you nodded and followed that up with the verbal confirmation he loved so much, "Yes, Robby. I'm ready."

He nodded and slowly pushed into you, a breathy moan fell from in between his lips as a whimper left your mouth. You felt as if your body was being stretched out, the feeling was ethical. You felt as if you were in euphoria and you hadn't even reached your high yet.

Robby moaned, "Can- I move?" His whisper sent shivers down your spine. You moaned out a loud yes, as Robby pushed himself in, then pulled out and aggressively thrust back in again.

You carefully watched his face in the mirror, his face of pleasure blessing your eyes as the sounds he made blessed your ears. He used his other hand to grab ahold of your breasts, squeezing and massaging them roughly making the pleasure absolutely insane.

A breathless scream tumbled from your lips, the sounds you made rarely being heard as his grip tightened on your neck. Robby caught his lower lip in between his teeth as he watched you in the mirror. Your beautiful fucked out expression, the soft sounds that left your lips, and how your walls felt around his thick cock would've been enough for him to come in his pants.

He watched in the mirror as his dick slipped in and out of you, the sight alone could've made him finish. Your eyelids felt heavy and you struggled to watch yourself as Robby has so demandingly ordered, you knew if he caught you with them closed you'd get a consequence.

However it was very difficult not to squirm or clap your eyes shut, the pleasure you were feeling was unmatchable and it made you tingle. Robby repeatedly hit your g-spot, the feeling becoming almost too much to the point where your eyes fell closed.

He removed his hand from your throat before grabbing a handful of your hair and yanking your head back. "Keep your eyes open. Guess you don't know how to fucking listen." His stern tone made you ache, you suddenly clenched around Robby and he let out a throaty laugh, "You like when I speak to you like that, huh? Fucking whore."

His words affected you in ways you never thought he could, but he just kept going, making you weaker and weaker as your legs slowly began to feel like jello, "Fucking look at you, baddest girl in the valley. Do you think Sensei'd like to know that his toughest female fighter is getting fucked and degraded right now? By his strongest fighter? That'd be a real conversation, wouldn't it." His cocky words made you so close to your high and yet you didn't release.

A scream tore from your chest as you slowly felt your release getting closer and closer, your legs now completely shaking as Robby moved his hand from your throat to your clit fibbing quick circles after noticing how close and desperate you were.

"You're gonna come, baby, I can feel it. You feel so good, fuck, it's so hard for me to function." His slight praise carried you on longer, you needed something more just to push you over the edge.

As if it were on cue Robby yanked your head back once again, the inflicted pain forcing you to scream and moan at once which was followed by a few swear words. You repeated his name many times as you felt your body get pushed over the edge. The euphoric feeling gave you goosebumps, the warmth of your bodies mixed together almost threw Robby over the edge, but just as you did, he needed a push.

You kept yourself moving even though Robby's thrusts were overly aggressive and just how you liked it, he looked down and watched your ass bounce with each thrust and then watched your pretty orgasm face in the mirror, which finally brought him over the edge too.

His mouth practically spilled with moans, grunt and whimpers for when the pleasure became too much to handle. "Holy fuck," His choice of words was funny looking back on it but in the best of the moment you didn't laugh nor even pay attention to his words, you watched his face. You could've easily came once more just at the sight of his orgasm face.

You felt his cum shoot inside you, his dick twitched as he practically screamed and continued to move in and out of your tight cunt. "Fuck- fuck- you're so- so tight," He panted, his high staying longer than usual which made him shake and squirm. "Not so tough now, are you pretty boy?" Your words made him cum even more inside of you, your words clearly affected him so you took that as an advantage.

"Wonder what Sensei would think when he found out his right-hand student liked to be called a pretty boy in bed. That'd one interesting conversation, huh Robby?" He pulled his dick out of you with a slight chuckle, "Ha ha, so funny, using my own words against me."

He watched you limp over to his bed as he went into his bathroom and grabbed a damp washcloth and walked over to you himself, carefully wiping away any of the leftover white stuff and watching as your swollen pussy continued to throb. "Damn, didn't know you had the hots for me, L/N. We should do that again sometime. Maybe as more than just enemies, I guess."

You felt yourself laughing as you sprawled out onto his very comfortable bed, "You really think enemies fuck and then just go back to normal? Imagine how easy that'd be for people who don't catch feelings. I'm clearly not one of those people, so yes, Robby, I'd love to do it again and yes, Robby, I'd love to be more than just enemies. I hate admitting it but you are nice sometimes, and that's a great thing to be."

Robby nodded with a soft smile, "You're not too bad yourself, Y/N. I'm just happy we're getting along now. I had no idea how I was planning on getting that to work but I guess it just worked out itself."

You laughed before answering in a calm tone, Robby came to lay with you on his bed after shutting off the television in the living room. "Me too, Robby, me too."

♛

The next morning Tory had invited the whole gang from Kyler's party to Robby's new apartment to see what really went on the night before and to see if the tension and hatred were still there or if it had been fucked out.

Tory was completely correct though, she walked into a clean house but a messy couch, popcorn spilled a little, and a few pop cans sitting on the coffee table. "They definitely fucked." Kyler stated, walking further into Robby's home.

Tory laughed at his statement before quietly and carefully walking into Robby's room after gently opening the door, making sure you both were covered before allowing the others to see for themselves.

You and Robby were snuggled up in his bed, you'd head laying on his exposed chest and your arm sprawled around it, your top leg up and resting onto his legs. Robby was honestly a beautiful sleeper. Tory didn't notice, but Kenny did.

"How does he look so good when sleeping? I go to sleep and look like the Grim Reaper. God clearly has favorites." Kenny's statement made the rest of the group quietly chuckle which caused Robby to wake as you still sat sound asleep in his arms. His eyes widened when he noticed his friend group, "What the hell are you doing here?" He mouthed, not wanting to wake you from your precious sleep.

"We came to check up on you. Clearly, you guys had a fun night so we'll let you be." Kyler whisper and yelled, practically leaving Robby's house in a hurry, he was probably leaving for something important or just wanted to go home. Either option made complete sense.

Tory smiled at you even though you couldn't see her. She felt like a proud matchmaking mom, and nothing could change her feelings for you two. You didn't realize it at the time, but you'd be hearing a lot about what happened that night, especially from your teammates.

Robby made you both angry and happy. But the happy feelings were mutual. That was the best option in the end.

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