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#and I think both are right things to ask and say!
lovelookspretty · 3 days
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lover of mine
drew starkey x actress!reader au
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— in which drew and y/n, secretly exes, must fake date in order to keep the peace at a mutual friend’s wedding, but the forced proximity makes them question whether they ever truly moved on.
warnings: sweet baby boy drew whos willing to help u, nothing else rly
one | two | three
authors note: i wanted to give it a sort of “the proposal” / “anyone but you” type of feel !! this is obviously going to be a series so let me know if u want to be added to the tag list from now on so u dont miss an update ! <3
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your body freezes in place when you’re asked about the wedding. crap, you forgot. but it isn’t like you received any invite.
“theo sent you an invite through the mail. you got it right?” your friend, leila, asks you. leila and her fiancé theo have been your friends for years now, ever since you met leila during a movie priemere and shared respect on each other's careers. she’s been your closest friend, so theo naturally had to come along too.
“what? yeah,” you lie right through your teeth, and guilt punches you in the face when you stare right into her bright eyes. you raise the cup of coffee. “was literally jumping for joy when i got it.”
leila sighs in relief. “thank god we got the right address,” she says and you question what she means by that before she continues, “we didn’t know whether to send it to your apartment or drew’s.”
your breath is caught and you pause before your drink reaches your lips.
“drew,” you repeat, and she nods.
“yeah, but we figured you’ll both see it either way so, sent it to his place ‘cause theo said it was closer,” leila says, and you raise your eyebrows in amusement. “but anyway! before the wedding, i wanted to stay with our inner circle so if it’s possible for a little two-week vacation? the venue is close to my mom and her boyfriend’s house so we’d just be staying there. i would’ve picked after the wedding if theo didn’t already have the honeymoon planned. he’s too excited.”
“wait, two weeks?” you inquire, “who’s coming?”
she shrugs, “you and drew, libby, gia . . .” she trails off as she thinks about it, and you swallow as you set your cup down. “i forgot who else. i know it’s one of theo’s coworkers but i forgot who. let me text him actually.”
your face lights up at the opportunity to get away, and you nod. “i need to call drew actually,” you say, and she smiles and nods as you stand from your seat and make your way to her living room. “need to remind him to take the . . . fish . . . out.”
“fish?”
“we’re having fish tonight, yeah.”
you turn away to scroll through your contacts until you find his, then click on it. you settle down on the couch as you wait anxiously for him to pick up, and just hope that he does.
just before the call goes to voicemail, the line clears. “yeah?”
“you are such a—!” you hiss quietly, careful not to let leila hear you. “why didn’t you tell me leila and theo sent you a wedding invite for us?”
“i literally just checked my mail, alright? i would’ve said something about it as soon as i saw it,” he tells you. “i just flew in two days ago, y/n. i’m at the . . . i’m not at my apartment right now but my mail’s all on my counter. i’ll look for it once i’m home and then send you pictures of it, okay?”
you know that your situation with drew is slightly complicated. you were together for five years before ending things just a year ago.
because of your careers, you aren’t surprised that people assume you’re still dating. even close friends like leila and theo. everything was kept private. a year into the relationship was when fans even found out about you two.
you both have been looking for a time to address the breakup, to friends first for sure, but with your conflicting schedules, the time’s just never come up, and sending a “by the way, we broke up” text to an imessage groupchat wasn’t totally ideal.
even with the wedding coming up, having to be around everyone while you celebrate your closest friends, how are you either of you supposed to bring it up now?
“okay,” you tell him. “just text me when you’re free. any time before 10, please.”
“okay,” drew’s voice is soft and understanding. the line goes dead and you pull your phone away from your ear, seeing that he’s hung up.
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your expected text comes around 8pm. drew’s sent you four different attachments. all are photos of the elaborate and detailed wedding invitation. the designs must’ve been leila’s idea.
you’re surprised to see an incoming call on your laptop right after. you hover over the accept button, then click on it.
his face fills a rectangle of your screen. he’s on his phone—“do you see it?”
“yeah wait,” you mumble, clicking out of the facetime to open your messages with him, then click the first photo. “leila and theo; rsvp by september twenty-seventh.”
“the letter’s addressed to my place but they put our names on the envelope,” drew tells you, and it looks like he’s ruffling through something before he flips his camera to display his counter. on it is the envelope in question, which is addressed to his apartment, but for y/n and drew, it says.
you hum. “are you going?” you ask him.
“of course i’m going. what do you mean?”
you shake your head, “nothing.”
drew only knows of leila or theo because of you, because leila works with you. maybe he’s made friends with theo but it’s not something you’ve personally seen, so you’re just assuming that maybe since you’ve broken up, there’s no reason for him to go? especially when he’s filming soon?
you stare down at your keyboard as you speak again, “leila wants us to come on a two-week pre-stay with her and theo. and others.”
there’s a brief pause from drew, like he doesn’t understand.
you sense it immediately and continue. “like, before the wedding, she told me today about how her mom has his house she wants us to stay in, just a few of us for two weeks, then they have her wedding— i don’t know, i need to ask her more about it. i think she just wants to fly everyone out and spend more time with us before she’s on honeymoon and living the wife life.”
“could be fun,” drew says. “i mean, i can’t even remember the last time i was out with theo or leila. it might be good for us.”
you furrow your eyebrows at him through the screen, and you try to read him to see if he’s joking. “there is no more ‘us’, remember? and by the way, neither leila or theo or anybody else knows that.”
drew hesitates as if he’s trying to justify your situation.
you rub your eye before resting the side of your head against your fist, “they addressed the invitation to both of us, drew. i feel like we should at least tell them the truth so that when we get there, they know.”
drew hesitates, his eyes moving around as if searching for the right words. “yeah, i know. it’s just . . . complicated.”
“complicated doesn’t even begin to cover it,” you say, feeling frustration build up. “it just feels dishonest. they think we’re still together, and if they find out at the wedding, it’ll look like we’re hiding things.”
“we are hiding things,” he reminds you. “we’ve been avoiding the topic. do you really want to drop this bomb on them right before their wedding?”
you go silent as you think about it, because if telling them isn’t a good option then . . .
“what if we just kept up the appearance that we’re still together?” drew suggests. it draws your attention as you look up at your laptop. “for the wedding and the pre.”
you blink, taken aback. “what do you mean?”
“i mean,” drew continues, “what if we act like we’re still together while we’re there? it might make things easier for everyone. seeing us apart will just create tension. people will feel like they’ll need to walk on eggshells around us.”
you give him a skeptical look. “acting like a couple isn’t the same as actually being one. i’m not sure i can just pull it off without it feeling fake.”
“we’re not faking,” drew says gently. “we’re just playing a part for a bit. we’re professionals. it’s literally our job. we can do this for a few days.”
you pause, considering his words. “but what if it just makes things worse? what if pretending just complicates everything?”
drew’s expression softens, and he speaks more earnestly. “look, we’ve been in tough spots before. there’s been so many times on set with you and i before that we’ve had to navigate headfirst. this is no different. think of it as a role we have to play for a short time. it doesn’t change what’s real.”
you sit back, processing his suggestion. “so we fake it for now and deal with the truth later?”
he hums. “it’s not ideal, but it could save a lot of awkwardness and stress. we can be civil and supportive for their sake, and then handle everything after.”
you let out a long sigh, feeling the weight of the decision. “it just feels like a lot of work to keep up a pretense. but i guess if we’re going to do this, we need to at least figure out how to make it believable.”
“we’ll figure it out,” drew says, his voice a little more hopeful. “it’s not about being perfect. it’s just about getting through the weeks without making things worse.”
you nod slowly, still feeling uneasy but recognizing the practicality of his idea. “okay. pretend for leila and theo, and then deal with the fallout afterwards.”
there’s a faint smile on his face as he nods at you. “just two weeks, remember? we can do that,” he says. “i’m gonna head to bed. i’ll talk to you tomorrow about it, alright?”
“okay,” you murmur, and drew hangs up on you.
the facetime window closes and displays your last app that’s been open, your messages. you’re face-to-face with the photos of the invitations once more, and a part of you is overwhelmed with emotions—fear, excitement, guilt.
two weeks. that’s all it is. just two weeks with your ex-boyfriend. you can survive that . . .
right?
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luvyeni · 2 days
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⠀ ( drabble ) let's get married ̨ ! ୨୧ 一 박성훈 ՞
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husband!sunghoon ・ reader ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ g ・ smut ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ cw ・ ‎ ‎ ‎unprotected sex, breeding kink, name calling ( slut , ‎whore ) ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ wc ・ ‎0.7k ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎| ‎ ‎click to library
request. can we get something about husband sunghoon 🙂‍↕️
「 ୨୧ authors note 」 i hope you like it !
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“Can we have the bride and groom only on the floor please?” the other guest moved to the side , leaving you and sunghoon on the floor. “Can I have this dance mrs.park.” He held out his hand , you smiled taking his hand. “yes you can mr.park.”
music slowly playing in the background; he pulled you closer to him , moving side to side slowly dancing; the crowd looking at you in awe , the newly married couple, so excited to start their new lives together as husband and wife. they see sunghoon leaning in, and they swoon as he presses a kiss on your cheek.
“I love you baby.” he said, you smiled. “I love you too.” you said , everyone unable to hear everything you say— sunghoon likes that. “You know that dress is stunning, baby.” he said , taking in your beauty. “but I don't think white is the appropriate color.” you look at him confused. “What do you mean?” you asked , not too quick to get offended. “white stands for purity, and we both know you are the farthest from pure.”
he smiled at your shocked face. “Sunghoon!” you said. “people are watching.” he chuckled. “Of course they are, but they can't hear me, can they?” He bit back. “they can't hear me tell you how I'm gonna fuck you on every surface of the hotel.” he kissed your cheek again , smiling to keep up appearance. “They don't know I'm gonna make you take my cock so many times that you're begging for me to stop.” your face was flushed. “h-hoonie.”
Soon the song was over and everyone was clapping and cheering for the both of you , but you could care less about cheers; the only thing you want is sunghoon in between your legs. “songs over baby.” he said, everyone joining you back on the floor , he stepped back , your mother coming over, interrupting you, he winked at you before his mother did the same, whisking him away, leaving you wanting him more— god you wanted this reception to be over.
“that's more like it.” sunghoon stripped you out of your dress, revealing your red lingerie that you were surprising him with. “red , my favorite color.” he said, pushing you down on the bed. “a color fit for a nasty girl like you.” He got rid of his pants , his cock desperate to be inside you. “couldn't even wait for the wedding to be over before you were throwing yourself on me again.”
That was true , the moment you got him back in your clutches during the party , you were all over him, practically begging him to touch you; take you to the bathroom— hell anything, but he denied you, forcing you to wait until now , but even now he's teasing you. “So desperate to be filled with my cock.” he slotted himself in between your legs, running his cock up and down your slit. “pl-please h-hoon.”
he held your legs open, slamming into you. “slid right fucking in.” he cursed , holding your waist down as he fucked into you. “That's my good whore.” he moaned. “so fucking wet.” your skin slapping together, you whimpered as his hands tangled up in your hand , tugging on it. “you got this wet just from a few words I said on the dance floor?” you dumbly nodded. “y-yes.”
“fuck you want me to breed you?” he growled. “make you a mother right here?” his thrust brutal , his hands squeezing your waist. “fu-fuck sunghoon , please!” you squealed. “please cum inside me.” you held his bicep. “please.”
he felt his orgasm impending; reaching down to rub your clit. “fuck , I want you to cum first.” he groaned. “cum all over my cock -fuck- so I can fill this little pussy up with my seed.” you gasped , nails digging into his skin as you came. “fuck , you're clenching too tight -shit- can't hold it.” his hips stuttered, his cock twitch as ropes of his cum shot into your waiting womb. “shit.”
his hair sticking to his forehead as he kissed you. “fuck im glad I made you my wife.” you laughed. “and if you're lucky the mother of your children.” he smirked , moving his hips, thrusting inside you. “su-sunghoon.”
“well then maybe we need to go again to make sure it sticks.”
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©️LUVYENI
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leeechin · 2 days
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jealous sex with jungwon 🙏🏼
monopolizing ( yang jungwon ) 18+
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✧ pairing: bf!jungwon x fem!reader ⌗ warnings: unprotected sex (don't do that), rough sex. spanking, slight degradation, size kink i mean look at his broad shoulders pls, jungwon's kinda mean in this 😕 but you love it, thighriding, he takes one video (consented), reader gets fucked dumb (?), mention of heeseung lol.
a/n: kind of short but i changed the req up with a little plot so i hope this meets ur expectations anon <3 reqs r open for short drabbles and fics don't be shy !! 🫶
word count: ( 1.9k )
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jungwon's really good at doing his part as a loving and attentive boyfriend that goes by your demands. but it's different when it's in bed.. and you guys are aware the members have heard you guys before. they just love to tease the fuck out of jungwon.
he's watching you on the other side of the room, sitting on the floor playing a card game with heeseung, laughing at whatever he was saying, as if it was the funniest thing in the world. jungwon blinks at your pretty face bursting into laughter. he can't help but wish you gave him attention instead, i mean he could also play a card game with you :(
"yo jungwon! you haven't look away from y/n once since she started playing card games with heeseung!" jake points out, clearly seeing jealously seep out of jungwon's face. jungwon clenches his teeth watching you playfully swat heeseung's shoulder after you lose a card game. the no response from jungwon shows it all. "don't tell me he's jealous—!" sunghoon jokes, eyes staring the same direction jungwon's are.
"w-what?! no i'm not—!" jungwon sputters in response, "you're so bad at lying." jay tsks as he passes by the kitchen, grabbing a plate and leaving. jungwon tries distracting himself from continuing to look at you and heeseung, opening random kitchen cabinet doors until he hears your cheerful voice.
"hi wonnie." you mumble, arms wrapping from behind him and nuzzling your face against his neck. jungwon feels his cheeks heat up at your affection infront of all of his fellow bandmates.
"hi baby." he responds turning around and placing a quick peck on your lips, hands placed on both side of your hips.
"look at wonnie all shy and everything!" jake mocks, causing you to let out a scoff and throw a middle finger at him while still embraced in jungwon's arms. "get a room you freaks!" sunghoon adds on, a look of disgust plastered on his face jokingly.
you smirk, moving your hands to grabbing at jungwon's biceps. once again so grateful that the boys have been dragging him out to the gym. "oh we definitely will, trust. matter of fact, right now—!" you exclaim, dragging jungwon's taller frame behind you as you find the door to his room. everybody else in the house making sure to turn up the volume of the tv and blast music.
"is this because she was playing apples to apples with me was it—?" heeseung asks, frowning at the pile of cards with the unfinished game the two of you were playing. "no shit sherlock."
closing the door behind you, a mischievous smile glints on your face, hands roaming around jungwon's chest. "jealousy is such a sexy look on your face." your lips quirking into a smile, staring at your boyfriend as you await a response. jungwon let’s out a low growl, realizing that you made him jealous on purpose. bending you over the dresser by his door, a loud smack! landed on your clothed ass. you already feel wetness seeping out of your cunt at the contact, squealing and pushing back.
"such a naughty girl. you enjoy doing this to me huh?" both hands pulling down your shorts, hissing at the sight of your pink lacy thong. pulling the elastic away and letting it slap against your skin causing you to yelp at the contact. "mmh please won'—! i’ve been bad, i'm sorry!"
"don't think you can get away with this so easily baby. you think heeseung can fuck you the way i do?" he responds with his hands roaming all over your body, slowly removing every article of clothing left on you except for your cute pink panties.
jungwon had no remorse in teasing you, finding it amusing at how quick you can turn into putty with him barely doing anything to you.
your now naked body trembling at jungwon's teasing touches, eager to feel more. "what happens to good girls when they decide they want to be bad huh?" he chuckled at the wetness pooling down your inner thighs with your body still bent over the dresser. "they get punished." you whine, attempting to free yourself from jungwon's tight pinning. he lets out a sound of approval, loosening his grip on your hips, ridding himself off of all his clothes but leaving his boxers on. moving to sit himself against the headboard and patting on his his thighs. "ride my thigh."
scrambling to crawl on the bed. you look up to see your boyfriend immersed at your eagerness. all you could do at that moment was stare dumbly at jungwon. "i— don't know if i can do it wonnie." you frown, your gaze pleading for jungwon to manhandle you and fuck you senseless. "you wanted to play games with me infront of everybody, don't be so shy now pretty."
your thighs on both sides of his, in nothing but your pink lacy panties. you're admiring the sight infront you, a very evident bulge in jungwon's boxers. crossing both of his arms behind his head. "what's the hold up now baby?" he teases, seeing how your hands were on both sides of your panties to pull it down. pulling your laced panties down just enough, jungwon groaned at the sight seeing it stick to your needy cunt, a string of arousal following the removal. "won' please, i need you in me so bad."
"i'll give you what you want after you ride my thigh hm?" jungwon negotiates, fighting the urge to just pull his boxers down and make you bounce on his dick until you forgot your own name. your head nods rapidly, pulling your panties down to your ankles and kicking it off to somewhere in the room. quickly placing yourself between one of jungwon's muscled thighs. seating your heat against it, rubbing slowly, the immediate friction on your clit making you let out a silent scream.
finding your own pace as you ride jungwon's thigh, feeling the ridge of his muscles as you dragged your needy cunt against it, your small whimpers and moans filling the room, becoming music to jungwon's ears. a satisfied smile wreathed his lips when he sees your eyes on him as you fell apart on his thigh, as he's flexing it occasionally to add on more intensity to your clit.
you could feel your orgasm approaching as your hole clenched around nothing. hands pawing at your boyfriend's shoulders. "wonnie please i need to cum! i'm sorry i teased you—please—!" amusement painted all over jungwon's face seeing how you were so submissive and crumbling at him doing nothing but having you ride his thigh.
"show me pretty girl. cum all over my thigh." the wetness of your arousal coating your boyfriend's thighs, granting your request. your hands tighten the grip on jungwon's shoulders, eyes rolling to the back of your head as the knot loosens in your stomach. jungwon's hands move to hold your hips, helping you slow down your movements.
"shit, you are so fucking sexy baby." and he's almost in pain at how long his boner has been held up in his boxers. you now being on your back, tears forming at the corner of your eyes as jungwon grinds his clothed bulge over your exposed needy cunt. you to sit up, attempting reaching your hand to your boyfriend's boxers, failing miserably as jungwon holds both your thighs back, nearly folding you in half, the sight of your glistening heat practically inviting him in.
moving to push your thighs back with one of his hands, jungwon reaches to the nightstand beside his bed, grabbing his phone that was on top of it, opening the camera app before placing it near him on the mattress. "fuck baby, please. i need to record your pretty face taking my cock." he groans, seeing the mess of the wetness that surrounded your cunt.
"yes jungwon! please wanna feel you stretch me out—!" you whine, your own hands replacing jungwon's hand that was pushing your thighs back, exposing yourself bare beneath him. "fuckkkkk." jungwon hisses as he frees himself from his tight boxers, stroking himself slowly and finding eye contact with you. your big doe eyes begging for jungwon to fill you up. he obliges, pushing his thick mushroom tip in, causing you to let out a loud gasp, then bottoming out.
your hands hold your thighs tightly as jungwon stays still for a bit, allowing you to adjust to his size. "m' so full wonnie." you sigh, bucking your hips up with small movements indicating that it was okay for him to move. jungwon pulls out until only his tip is inside you and plunges into you deeply, making you feel every ridge and vein. you let out a string of moans in response, your warm velvety walls pulling jungwon in and tightening around his length. grunting in response as he scrambles to grab his phone. "keep your legs like that, show the camera how well you take my cock in that tight pussy."
you let a moan of jungwon's name when you see the flash of the camera on, the hand that wasn't recording to grab at one your tits. "so big jungwon—!" your words slur as he sets a relentless pace, the camera capturing the sight of his dick disappearing deep into your cunt, the wet sounds and squelches filling the room. your hands find purchase in holding jungwon's big shoulders, admiring the way the muscles on his arms flexed along with the thrusts he gave you.
"thaaat's it, show the camera who make you feel good." giving you a few more harsh strokes before stopping the video and tossing his phone to the side. jungwon curses at the sight of how easily your cunt sucks in his thick length. "so fucking tight baby, shit—! your pussy feels so good!" jungwon groaning as he feels your walls flutter around him. "so so good jungwon! more more more!" you babble, pleasure stinging in every part of your body. and jungwon was pretty much already giving you every you could'vr asked for in bed.
"you close baby?" jungwon asks, speeding his pace to an even more impossible level, hands moving your thighs over his shoulder, the angle making him hit even deeper, a small bulge displaying thru your stomach, making you press against the bulge. "i am—! please fill me wonnie. wanna be full of your cum mmh—!"
"shit cum around me like the good girl you are." jungwon didn't need to even ask twice as you throw your head back against the soft pillows on his bed, walls spasming around his cock as you let loose on your climax, jungwon following quickly after, making sure to milk every drop of his cum into you.
"i probably can't walk properly after this!" you exclaimed as jungwon came back into the room from the bathroom with a warm towel, wiping your now sensitive, spent heat. he laughs in response, "you were so fucking hot in the video, jesus." looking over the video that was recorded on his phone briefly.
"glad i could be of service." you sarcastically salute, eyes half lidded once cleaned up and with one of jungwon's t-shirts over your body. "sorry went a little too hard baby." jungwon kissing the exposed part of your shoulder blade, making you forget about the unfinished card game with heeseung outside, keeping you all to himself. ୨ ୧
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luveline · 2 days
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hey love! first of all: i have to admit i started watching criminal minds for the first time earlier this year only bc of your spencer fics! can we get more stripper!reader and spencer? love your writing!!!
thank you!! It’s a slow routine. You begin in a crouch in your underwear, just like at the club. Chest to your knees, arms twisted with the backs of your hands touching. But, unlike at the club, this underwear is comfortable. There’s nobody watching, and you won’t make any tips. You don’t have a pole nor a stage. 
You run through the routine but forgo any pole tricks. You stretch for long, slow minutes, dancing from one space to another. The music in your head isn’t anything you’d play at home, but it works to keep time. You end on your knees again. 
It’s not fun. 
You stretch toward your phone and pick it up. Spencer’s texted you twice in the ten minutes you weren’t on it. 
Hi gorgeous, the first begins, do you want to sleep over? I can make you dinner. 
The second, Sorry, I don’t think I’ve ever called you gorgeous before, is that weird? Please come over and pretend I didn’t say that if it was weird
A third pops up while you’re reading. Can I come get you? 
You text him back with pleasure. He’s the only guy in your life who talks to you just to talk, without thinking he could fuck you if he says enough right things, even though he has fucked you. Hi babe you can call me anything it’s not weird, I’ll come over! Not working this week, maybe I can stay two days(?) let me know so I can pack enough clothes 
You can stay all week, if you want to. I miss you 
You imagine him holding his phone, his cheeks pink with blush. 
I miss you too, you text back. 
Just bring what you want to and we can work it out later
Working it out later could mean anything with Spencer. He’s silly enough to try and put you in his clothes, and generous enough to take you shopping if it saves the time it takes to drive you home. 
You’ve packed a bag of clothes and shower things when your phone rings. Spencer’s contact photo covers the whole screen, the two of you together with your face cut out, his smile wide. You were both a teeny bit tipsy. 
“Hello?” you answer, bringing the phone to your ear. 
“Hi!” He sounds nervous. “I’m outside. Am I gonna get towed?” 
“Not if you stay in the car. I’m on my way down right now.” 
“Okay, see you in a second,” he says. 
He never looks comfortable behind a steering wheel. You aren’t sure why he doesn’t sell his car, maybe because it’s dirt cheap to maintain. He never seems happy to be driving is all. 
He smiles when you approach his door, which is better. He rolls down the window. 
“Are you okay?” he asks. You bend at the knees to see him better. 
“Why wouldn’t I be?” 
“I had a weird feeling about you, like you weren’t alright.” 
You lean down further. “I’m okay.” 
He grins. You’re waiting for a kiss he doesn’t give, finding yourself a subject for his staring, completely still as his gaze follows around your face. He makes no move to kiss you, and for a moment insecurity blossoms. 
“Well, you look okay. Are you getting in? It’s cold,” he says, nodding toward the passenger side.
“No help with my bags?” you ask, closing the door when he tries to open it. “Kidding.” 
You round the hood and climb inside. Then Spencer kisses you, polite but emphatic, one on your lips and another just under your jaw as he squeezes your shoulder. You feed into them lovingly.
“Maybe you can stay at my place forever? That way I can stop missing you all the time,” he says, pulling away slowly. 
“And when the mystery is gone?” you ask. 
“I don’t want mystery with you.” 
Spencer takes your bag from your lap and shoves it into the back seat. You drop the smaller one on your shoes. 
“Do you wanna get pizza or something?” he asks. 
You hold your jaw where he’d kissed you. “Sure,” you say, tingles of his kiss lingering under your hand. 
“Or Chinese? What do you want?” 
You want more kisses, but you love that he always gives you options. “Pizza for sure. Curly fries, too. Hold my hand?” 
Spencer takes it with gusto over the gearstick, and whatever felt like it was missing earlier fills itself in. “Wait,” you say softly, before he can take the car out of park, “just…” You grab his side and drag him toward you for a hug. Holding hands wasn’t gonna be enough —Spencer doesn’t know it yet, but you love him, love how safe he makes you feel, love how fun he makes your life. You can be yourself with him, no matter who that really is.
Spencer holds you, his hand across your shoulder blade rubbing soft lines. 
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imaginaryf1shots · 15 hours
Text
Starved | Max Verstappen
WC: 1.9K
Max x gf!reader
Summery: Max is touch starved and your love language is physical touch.
Warning: Jos and Christain horner, ilusion to a tough childhood
AN: I just saw a ticktok and I had to write this.
Masterlist
Max Masterlist
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Max never knew how good physical touch is as a love language, he didn't grow up with hugs and gentle touches, none of his past girlfriends were overly touchy with him. That all changed when you came into his life. You grew up smothered in love and affection, and it's how you function, how you show your love. 
Max remembers the moment he realised you're not like his other girlfriends in that aspect.
It was after your first date, and you were having a walk around, neither of you wanting the night to end. Max was telling you a story about something that happened that week, your hands brushing, and he kept thinking if he should take your hand or not. You didn't leave him with a choice.
“-and he ran straight at me, bit I saw him-” Max stops talking when he feels your hand move around his and you lace your fingers through his, he looks at you, and you just smile up at him, leaning closer to his side. Max couldn't help but smile just as bright as yours. “So I dodged and he still bled and fell down, everyone was…”
He kept on talking, you were listening attentively, adding things when needed, and squeezing his hand when you wanted him to look at you. 
Max felt like holding hands with you is the best thing ever. 
But boy was he wrong, because every new tech became his favourite. 
Max never knew he was the cuddling type, until you wrapped yourself around him.
“Oh god.” You whined as Max flipped himself onto the bed beside you, the room filled with your heavy breathing. “That was…”
“Amazing.” Max finishes for you, he turns his head to look at you, even the Formula 1 driver is out of breath but he's smiling nonetheless. You grin at him and turn around placing your head on his shoulder and your arm on his stomach. Max freezes for a second, you press your lips to his skin in a few pecks, making him relax instantly. Max moves you a bit so you're closer with his arms around you. You're both naked with your kin touching his everywhere. You can hear his heart beating fast in his chest and try to not show him your smile. You know why he is the way he is. Without him having to tell you, you picked up on his reactions whenever you touch him affectionately. 
“You don't want to shower, or get dressed?” Max asked you after a moment of silence.
“In a bit, I just want to hold you for a few minutes.” You mumble feeling overly relaxed. Max kisses the top of your head, and lets you hold him while he holds you as long as you want.
Max always thought it's his job as the man in the relationship to have his hand on you in public, show his dominance and all that nonsense. And as much as he just likes having his hands on you, he loves you having your hands all over him. Makes him feel wanted, loved and needed. 
Max is driving you both to a new restaurant that you wanted to try. One hand on the wheel the other on the gear stick. You were looking out the window when you suddenly got the feeling that you want Max closer, want to touch him. So you just move your hand to his thigh.
“Schatje.” Max says and you hum, turning to look at him. “What are you doing?” 
“Just suddenly wanted to be closer to you.” You tell him with a smile.
“I'm right here.” Max glances at you.
“Not close enough.” You say and stay silent for a moment. “Do you not like it?”
You start to move your hand when he stops you with the hand on the gear stick. “I didn't say that, you can touch me whenever you want.”
There are many pictures of you and Max in the paddock or out and about, but more in the paddock. They're all of you lacing your hands with Max, hugging his arms, someone commented once how you're always the first to touch Max, but he never lets go of you. So, to those that tried to hate on you and call you clingy, could never really find anything to hate you for. It’s clear that you’re the instigator but Max’s smile is always undeniable.
“Max, what do you love most about y/n?” Max was signing hats on his way into the paddock, when a fan suddenly asked.
“Her hugs.” The crowd all awed, Max didn’t even realise what he said, it just came out naturally, he loves everything about you, but if there’s one thing that he misses the most and looks forward to when he’s away, it’s your hugs. They feel like home, as cheesy as that may seem.
And hugging you do. You take every chance to pull Max in for hugs.
You’d be eating with the other WAGs or maybe Victoria, and Max would be walking through the paddock and seeing you, he’d walk up to you, and you’d stop everything and give the man a hug as if you didn’t see each other yet that day.
“How’s your day so far?” You ask him, still in his arms.
“Good, how’s yours?”
“Good.” You’d be the first to let go, knowing that if you don’t he’ll never let you go. As much as you want to stay in his arms, he had work to do.
Max would be away on a triple header out of Europe, and you wouldn’t be able to join him for the first race, but no one is surprised when Air Max flies back to Europe and then to the race destination and there’s pictures of you exiting. Max will be damned before he sees you flying in anything but his plane, only the best for you.
You’d get there later than expected, so Max is already on track. His team meets you to give you your passes and get you in. They lead you to where Max is, he’s having a moment break before he has to go to a Red Bull club event thingy in the Red Bull hospitality. Max is on his phone with a Red Bull in his other hand, he looks up when he hears you walk in, he doesn’t see his smiling team behind you, once you’re here everything else ceases to exist.
Max just folds himself around you, he never cares who’s around. Your hand runs up and down his back. Your head in the crook of his shoulder, breathing him in. 
“Hey, my love.” You greet him and kiss his neck softly.
“I missed you schatje.” Max responds to your words and you smile.
“Missed you too, like crazy.” You stand there for a few minutes, everyone knows to just let you have your moments, a much calmer Max is always there thanks to your presence.
There’s a hug that all the fans remember, it went down in the history book for being loving and sad at the same time.
Max has been having a bad time this season, struggling with the car, and not winning, even though he’s leading the points, it’s a very close call. And after 2021 he never hoped to go through such a tough battle again.
Alas here he is, doing the best he could with what he has. Max and Jos have been butting heads lately, mainly because Jos thinks that Max should leave Red Bull and go to Mercedes, while Max wants to stay with Red Bull. The dynamic between the two has always had its highs and lows, and they’re going through a tough low now. So, when Max finally won a race and thus winning the championship, after struggling the majority of the season, and he saw his dad standing in the crowd he was happy. But Jos being the a-hole he is, he wasn’t happy. He didn’t want this race to give Max hope for any future with the team.
Max noticed the look on his father’s face when he was just about to go and hug him, he knew that look, he knew what it meant. And it upsets Max to see it when he’s just won and should be celebrating.
“MAX!” You shout and gain his attention, you’re behind the barrier. Everyone in the team knew what was going on between Max and Jos, and they knew how much having your support no matter what meant for him. So they did not hesitate to raise you over the barrier, you squeal in surprise. The moment your feet touch the ground, Max’s arms are around you, his helmet still on and everything. It’s a much needed hug, it wasn’t you who wrapped your arms around him, it wasn't you that instigated this, this was all Max, he needed this. He’s clutching you, having you flush against him, letting himself feel your presence.
Once he has his arms around you, he's clutching you, holding you close. Your arms wrap tightly around him, the force of the hug, has you staggering slightly back, Max's legs move with yours, until you're stable. 
“Congratulations, my love.” You say, and Max can barely hear you over the noise surrounding the both of you. “I'm so proud of you Max, so incredibly and completely proud of you.”
Max holds you tighter and if it becomes painful he doesn't say. The hug seems to last forever, and everyone just lets you have this moment. You're barely visible from Max's back. Your hand moves over his back slightly trying to give him all the love and comfort he needed. 
“I love you.” The words come out choked up, but you hear them and it breaks you. You force yourself out of his arms and meet his eyes through the slightly opened visor. His eyes are slightly wet. Max doesn't cry, his life was too tough for him to find a reason big enough to cry.
“I love you too Max, more than anything, more than anyone.” You tell him earnestly and full heartedly. 
“Fucking hell, I'll marry you one day.” Max says and his eyes crinkle slightly as he smiles. 
“Well go get your trophy first before we see about the whole marriage thing.” You patt him and Max then goes to his team, they're all shouting and cheering for him.
“You're good for him.” You look to see Christian now standing next to you.
“He's good for me.” You reply and watch your boyfriend with loving eyes.
“I have a feeling that by next season you'll have a ring on your finger.” Christsin whispers in your ear, and he slinks away, you can't help the smile on your face.
You watch as the top 3 do their interviews, Max's face is flushed red, hair messy, and his eyes are a bit misty. Your eyes well up seeing him, Max catches your eyes as he's finishing his interview, the smile on his face widens, he’s looking to the side when the interview ends. And Max races back towards you, your eyes go wide, not expecting him to come back to you. Max pulls you closer and crashes his lips against yours, before you could even place your hands on him, he pulls away, smiles and runs off to the cool down room.
“I take it back, give it a couple of weeks.” Christian amused says, the cameras flashing around you catch your insanely blushing face.
Christian was right, because arriving at the last race of the season, there’s a big rock on your finger.
Main Taglist: @gnatthefly . @mochimommy2002 . @llando4norris . @mrswolffs-blog . @barcelonaloverf1life . @c-losur3 . @xoscar03 . @schniti-is-in-the-house . @lottalove4evelyn . @eywas-heir . @glow-ish . @lilypat .
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pucksandpower · 1 day
Text
Hall Pass
Charles Leclerc x Reader
Carlos Sainz x ex!Reader
Summary: Carlos’ desire to fantasize about other women leads you straight into his teammate’s arms (or in which your boyfriend chooses a famous actress as his hall pass while you decide on someone much closer to home)
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The hotel suite is bathed in the warm glow of the setting sun, casting long shadows across the plush carpet. You sit on the edge of the king-sized bed, your fingers idly tracing the intricate patterns on the duvet cover. Across the room, Carlos leans against the ornate writing desk, his arms crossed over his chest and a pensive look on his face.
“Y/N,” he begins, his voice low and measured. “We need to talk.”
You look up, meeting his gaze with a mixture of curiosity and concern. “What’s on your mind?”
He shifts his weight, uncrossing his arms and shoving his hands into his pockets. “I’ve been thinking ... about us. About our relationship.”
Your heart skips a beat, a knot forming in your stomach. “Oh? And what have you been thinking?”
Carlos takes a deep breath, his eyes darting around the room before settling back on you. “I love you, Y/N. I do. But ... I can’t help feeling like we’re stuck in a rut.”
You furrow your brow, confusion and hurt mingling in your chest. “A rut? What do you mean?”
“It’s just ...” He pauses, searching for the right words. “We’ve been together for so long, and it’s been great. But don’t you ever wonder what else is out there?”
You stand up, taking a step towards him. “Carlos, are you saying you want to break up?”
He holds up his hands, shaking his head quickly. “No, no. That’s not what I’m saying at all. I just ... I had an idea.”
“An idea?” You repeat, your voice laced with skepticism.
Carlos nods, a hint of excitement creeping into his tone. “What if we each got a hall pass?”
You blink, taken aback. “A hall pass? Like ... permission to sleep with someone else?”
“Exactly,” he says, snapping his fingers. “But not just anyone. We each choose one person, and if we ever happen to meet them and the opportunity arises, we’re allowed to go for it. No hard feelings, no guilt.”
You stare at him, trying to process his words. “Let me get this straight. You want us to choose people we can cheat on each other with, guilt-free?”
Carlos winces at your phrasing. “It’s not cheating if we both agree to it. Think of it as ... spicing things up. Adding a little excitement to our relationship.”
You cross your arms, mirroring his earlier stance. “And you think this will solve our supposed ‘rut’?”
He shrugs, a boyish grin spreading across his face. “It could be fun. Just imagine the thrill of knowing we both have this secret possibility out there.”
You shake your head, disbelief coloring your voice. “I can’t believe you’re seriously suggesting this.”
“Come on, mi amor,” Carlos coaxes, taking a step towards you. “It’s not like anything will actually happen. We’ll probably never even meet the people we choose.”
You raise an eyebrow. “Then what’s the point?”
“The point is the fantasy, the excitement,” he explains, his eyes lighting up. “It’s like ... buying a lottery ticket. You know you probably won’t win, but the possibility is thrilling.”
You chew on your lower lip, considering his words. Part of you wants to shut down this ridiculous idea immediately, but another part is intrigued by the challenge. “And you really think this will help our relationship?”
Carlos nods eagerly. “I do. It’ll add a spark, keep things interesting.”
You sigh, running a hand through your hair. “I can’t believe I’m even considering this.”
“So ... is that a yes?” Carlos asks, hope evident in his voice.
After a long moment, you nod slowly. “Fine. But we set some ground rules first.”
Carlos grins, clapping his hands together. “Of course! Whatever you want.”
You hold up a finger. “Rule number one: we tell each other who we choose. No secrets.”
“Agreed,” Carlos says quickly.
“Rule number two: if anything ever does happen, we tell each other immediately.”
Carlos nods. “Absolutely. Honesty is key.”
You take a deep breath. “Okay. So ... who’s your choice?”
Carlos’ grin widens. “Margot Robbie.”
You can’t help but laugh. “Seriously? Margot Robbie?”
He shrugs, looking pleased with himself. “What? She’s gorgeous, talented, and there’s practically zero chance I’ll ever meet her, let alone have the opportunity to sleep with her.”
You shake your head, amused despite yourself. “Well, at least you’re being realistic about your chances.”
Carlos chuckles. “Exactly. It’s the perfect choice. Exciting, but safe.” He leans forward, curiosity sparking in his eyes. “What about you? Who’s your hall pass going to be?”
You pause, pretending to consider your options carefully. In truth, you’ve already made your decision, a plan forming in your mind. “Well,” you say slowly, “I think I’ll choose ... Charles.”
Carlos’ brow furrows in confusion. “Charles? What Charles?”
You allow a small smirk to play across your lips. “Charles Leclerc.”
The color drains from Carlos’ face as realization dawns. “Charles ... Leclerc? My teammate, Charles Leclerc?”
You nod, feigning innocence. “That’s the one.”
Carlos sputters, his earlier confidence evaporating. “But-but you can’t choose him!”
“Why not?” You ask, your voice sweet. “He fits all the criteria. He’s attractive, talented, and exciting.”
“But he’s my teammate!” Carlos exclaims, running a hand through his hair in agitation. “You see him all the time!”
You shrug, echoing his earlier nonchalance. “So? You’re the one who wanted to add some excitement to our relationship.”
Carlos paces back and forth, his earlier enthusiasm replaced by panic. “This isn’t what I meant! I chose someone I’ll never meet. You chose someone you could literally bump into tomorrow!”
“Carlos,” you say, your voice taking on a patronizing tone, “are you saying you don’t trust me?”
He stops pacing, turning to face you with wide eyes. “Of course I trust you. It’s just ... it’s Charles!”
You take a step towards him, your expression hardening. “Let me ask you something. Did you really think this through when you suggested it? Or were you just hoping for a free pass to fantasize about other women without feeling guilty?”
Carlos opens and closes his mouth, struggling to find a response. “I ... that’s not ... I didn’t mean ...”
You cut him off, your voice sharp. “Because from where I’m standing, it looks like you thought you could have your cake and eat it too. You’d get to keep me while indulging in your little fantasies about Margot Robbie or whoever else catches your eye.”
“Mi amor, please,” Carlos pleads, reaching for your hand. “That’s not what this was about at all.”
You pull away from his grasp, shaking your head. “No? Then what was it about? Because it sure as hell wasn’t about improving our relationship.”
He runs his hands over his face, frustration evident in every line of his body. “I just ... I thought it would be fun. A little harmless fantasy to spice things up.”
“Well, congratulations,” you say, your voice dripping with sarcasm. “You’ve certainly spiced things up now.”
Carlos looks at you, desperation in his eyes. “Can we just ... can we forget this whole thing? Pretend I never suggested it?”
You shake your head, a bitter laugh escaping your lips. “Oh no, Carlos. You don’t get to backtrack now. You wanted a hall pass? You’ve got one.”
“Please,” he begs, reaching for you again. “I was being stupid. I don’t want this.”
You step back, avoiding his touch. “Too late. What was it you said? No hard feelings, no guilt?”
Carlos’ face crumples. “I didn’t think ... I never imagined you’d choose someone like Charles.”
“Maybe you should have,” you snap. “Maybe you should have considered how I’d feel about you wanting permission to sleep with other women.”
He hangs his head, shame written across his features. “I’m sorry. I really am. Can we please just talk about this?”
You shake your head, moving towards the door of the suite. “I think we’ve talked enough for one night.”
Carlos’ head snaps up, panic flashing in his eyes. “Where are you going?”
You grab your purse from the nearby chair, slinging it over your shoulder. “Out. I need some air.”
“Y/N, wait!” Carlos calls, his voice rising in desperation. “You can’t ... you’re not going to ...”
You turn back to face him, your hand on the doorknob. “Going to what, Carlos? Use my hall pass? Isn’t that what you wanted?”
He shakes his head vehemently. “No! I mean, yes, but not like this. Not with Charles!”
“Why not?” You challenge. “He’s attractive, available, and conveniently located just down the hall. Isn’t that exciting?”
Carlos’ face contorts with a mixture of anger and fear. “You wouldn’t. You’re just trying to teach me a lesson.”
You raise an eyebrow. “Am I? Are you willing to bet on that?”
He takes a step towards you, his voice pleading. “Mi amor, please. I’m begging you. Don’t do this.”
You open the door, pausing in the threshold. “You know, Carlos, you were right about one thing. This definitely isn’t boring anymore.”
As you step into the hallway, you hear Carlos’ voice rising behind you. “Y/N! Come back! We need to talk about this!”
You let the door swing shut behind you, cutting off his desperate pleas. As you walk down the corridor, your heels clicking against the polished floor, a small smile plays across your lips.
You have no intention of actually going to Charles’ room, of course. But Carlos doesn’t need to know that. Let him stew in his own jealousy and insecurity for a while. Maybe next time he’ll think twice before suggesting something so foolish.
As you reach the elevator, you can still hear Carlos’ muffled shouts echoing from your suite. You press the button for the lobby, a mix of emotions swirling in your chest. Part of you feels guilty for causing him such distress, but a larger part feels justified in your actions. He needed to understand the consequences of his thoughtless suggestion.
As the elevator doors slide closed, you let out a long breath. It’s going to be a long night, but perhaps this will be the wake-up call your relationship needed. Not in the way Carlos had intended, but in a way that forces you both to confront the real issues lurking beneath the surface.
The elevator begins its descent, carrying you away from the drama upstairs and towards an uncertain future. One thing’s for sure — your relationship will never be the same after tonight. Whether that’s for better or worse remains to be seen.
***
The hotel bar is a sanctuary of soft lighting and hushed conversations. You sit perched on a high stool, nursing a glass of red wine and trying to quiet the storm of emotions raging inside you. The bartender, a middle-aged man with kind eyes, keeps glancing your way, clearly sensing your distress but respectfully maintaining his distance.
You’re so lost in thought that you don’t notice the figure approaching until he speaks.
“Y/N? Is everything alright?”
You look up, startled, to find Charles Leclerc standing beside you, concern etched across his handsome features. For a moment, you’re struck by the irony of the situation.
“Charles,” you manage, forcing a smile. “I’m fine, just ... needed some air.”
He raises an eyebrow, clearly not buying your act. “At the bar? Must be some very alcoholic air.”
Despite yourself, you let out a small laugh. “Caught me. Mind if I buy you a drink to keep my secret?”
Charles slides onto the stool next to you, a warm smile playing across his lips. “Only if you let me buy the next round and tell me what’s really going on.”
You hesitate, swirling the wine in your glass. “It’s ... complicated.”
“I’ve got time,” Charles says softly, signaling the bartender. “And I’ve been told I’m a pretty good listener.”
As the bartender sets a Moscow Mule in front of Charles, you take a deep breath. “Carlos and I had a fight.”
Charles nods, his expression neutral. “I see. Do you want to talk about it?”
You laugh bitterly. “Oh, you’re going to love this. He suggested we each get a hall pass.”
Charles’ brow furrows in confusion. “A hall pass? Like in school?”
“No,” you explain, taking a sip of your wine. “A relationship hall pass. Permission to sleep with one chosen person if the opportunity ever arose.”
Charles’ eyes widen in surprise. “He suggested that? Really?”
You nod, feeling a fresh wave of anger wash over you. “He thought it would ‘spice things up’. Add some excitement to our relationship.”
“And how did you feel about that?” Charles asks carefully, studying your face.
You sigh, running a hand through your hair. “Honestly? I felt ... hurt. Betrayed. Like I wasn’t enough for him anymore.”
Charles reaches out, hesitating for a moment before gently placing his hand over yours. “Y/N, you’re more than enough. Any man would be lucky to have you.”
You look up, meeting his intense gaze. “Thank you. That ... means a lot.”
He squeezes your hand before pulling away, taking a sip of his drink. “So, what happened next?”
You feel a mischievous smile tugging at your lips. “Well, I agreed.”
Charles nearly chokes on his drink. “You did?”
You nod, unable to suppress a small chuckle at his reaction. “I did. But not for the reasons Carlos wanted.”
“Oh?” Charles leans in, curiosity sparking in his eyes. “Do tell.”
“Well,” you say, lowering your voice conspiratorially, “Carlos chose Margot Robbie as his hall pass.”
Charles snorts. “Of course he did.”
“Exactly,” you agree. “So when it was my turn to choose ... I picked you.”
For a moment, Charles is speechless, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. Finally, he manages to sputter, “Me? You chose me?”
You nod, feeling a blush creep up your cheeks. “I did. You should have seen Carlos’ face. He was furious.”
Charles runs a hand through his hair, looking both flattered and bewildered. “I ... wow. I don’t know what to say.”
“You don’t have to say anything,” you assure him quickly. “I didn’t choose you because I actually intended to ... you know. I chose you to teach Carlos a lesson.”
Charles nods slowly, processing this information. “And did he learn his lesson?”
You shrug, finishing off your wine. “I don’t know. I left him screaming in our hotel room.”
“Y/N,” Charles says softly, his voice full of concern. “I’m so sorry you’re going through this. You deserve better.”
You feel tears prickling at the corners of your eyes. “Do I? Sometimes I wonder ...”
Charles reaches out again, this time cupping your cheek gently. “Listen to me. You are an incredible woman. You’re smart, funny, beautiful ... any man would be lucky to have you. And if Carlos can’t see that, if he’s willing to risk losing you over some stupid fantasy, then he doesn’t deserve you.”
You lean into his touch, feeling a warmth spread through your chest that has nothing to do with the wine. “Charles ...”
He leans in closer, his voice low and intense. “If you were with me, I would treat you like the queen you deserve to be. I would never even think about another woman, let alone ask for permission to be with one.”
Your breath catches in your throat, your heart pounding in your chest. “Charles, I ... we can’t ...”
He pulls back slightly, his eyes searching yours. “Why not? You have a hall pass, don’t you?”
You shake your head, trying to clear the fog of emotions clouding your judgment. “That’s not ... I didn’t mean for this to happen.”
Charles sighs, dropping his hand from your face. “I know. And I would never want to be the reason you and Carlos break up. But Y/N, you have to know ... I’ve had feelings for you for a long time.”
Your eyes widen in surprise. “You have?”
He nods, a rueful smile on his face. “How could I not? You’re amazing. But you were with Carlos, and I respected that. I still do. But seeing you hurt like this ... it kills me.”
You feel tears spilling down your cheeks now, unable to hold them back any longer. “I don’t know what to do. I love Carlos, but after tonight ... I don’t know if I can trust him anymore.”
Charles pulls you into a gentle hug, his strong arms wrapping around you protectively. “It’s okay. You don’t have to decide anything right now.”
You bury your face in his chest, inhaling his comforting scent. “I just ... I feel so lost.”
He strokes your hair softly, his voice a soothing murmur. “I know. But you’re not alone. I’m here for you, whatever you need.”
You pull back slightly, looking up into his eyes. “Thank you. You’re a good friend.”
He smiles, but there’s a hint of sadness in his eyes. “Always. But Y/N ... I want you to know that if you ever decide you want more than friendship, I’m here. I would never hurt you the way Carlos has.”
You feel a flutter in your stomach, a mix of excitement and fear. “Charles, I ...”
He shakes his head, placing a finger gently on your lips. “You don’t have to say anything. I just wanted you to know.”
You nod, suddenly very aware of how close you are, of the electricity crackling between you. “I should ... I should probably go.”
Charles nods, but makes no move to let you go. “Probably. But do you want to?”
You bite your lip, torn between desire and duty. “I ... I don’t know.”
He leans in, his lips barely brushing your ear as he whispers, “Come up to my room. We don’t have to do anything. We can just talk or watch a movie. But I don’t think you should be alone right now.”
You shiver at his closeness, your resolve weakening. “Charles, I ... what if someone sees us?”
He pulls back, his eyes meeting yours with an intensity that takes your breath away. “Let them see. You haven’t done anything wrong. You’re allowed to have friends, to seek comfort when you’re hurting.”
You take a deep breath, knowing that you’re standing on the edge of a precipice. One wrong move and everything could come crashing down. But looking into Charles’ eyes, feeling the warmth and safety of his presence, you find yourself nodding.
“Okay,” you whisper. “Let’s go.”
Charles stands, offering you his hand. You take it, allowing him to lead you towards the elevators. As you walk, you can feel the eyes of other patrons on you, but Charles’ steady presence beside you helps you keep your head high.
In the elevator, you stand close together, the air thick with unspoken tension. Charles’ thumb traces small circles on the back of your hand, sending shivers up your arm.
“Charles,” you say softly as the elevator begins to ascend. “I need you to know ... I’m not using you to get back at Carlos. Whatever happens tonight, it’s because I want it to.”
He turns to face you, his free hand coming up to cup your cheek once more. “I know. And I want you to know that whatever happens or doesn’t happen, tonight doesn’t change anything. I’ll still be here for you tomorrow, and the day after, and every day after that.”
You lean into his touch, feeling a sense of peace wash over you for the first time since your fight with Carlos. “Thank you.”
The elevator dings, signaling your arrival at Charles’ floor. He leads you down the hallway to his suite, fumbling slightly with the key card before pushing the door open.
As you step inside, you’re struck by how different it feels from the suite you share with Carlos. Where your room is cluttered with both of your belongings, evidence of your life together, Charles’ suite is neat and minimalist. It feels like a blank slate, a fresh start.
Charles closes the door behind you, leaning against it as he watches you take in the room. “So,” he says softly, “what now?”
You turn to face him, suddenly feeling nervous. “I ... I don’t know. This is all happening so fast.”
He nods, understanding in his eyes. “We can take it slow. Why don’t we sit down, maybe order some room service? We can talk, or not talk. Whatever you’re comfortable with.”
You feel a rush of affection for him, grateful for his patience and understanding. “That sounds nice.”
Charles moves to the phone, quickly ordering a selection of snacks and another bottle of wine. As he hangs up, he turns back to you with a shy smile. “I hope you don’t mind, I ordered your favorite.”
You blink in surprise. “You know my favorite wine?”
He shrugs, a faint blush coloring his cheeks. “I pay attention.”
You feel your heart skip a beat at his words. How many times had you had to remind Carlos of your preferences?
As you settle onto the plush sofa, Charles takes a seat beside you, close but not touching. “Y/N,” he says softly, “I want you to know that you’re in control here. We don’t have to do anything you’re not comfortable with.”
You nod, feeling a mix of gratitude and desire. “I know. And I appreciate that, Charles. But ...”
He raises an eyebrow. “But?”
You take a deep breath, gathering your courage. “But I think I want to kiss you.”
Charles’ eyes widen, a look of surprise and joy spreading across his face. “Are you sure?”
Instead of answering, you lean forward, pressing your lips to his in a tentative kiss. For a moment, Charles is still, as if he can’t believe this is happening. Then, with a small groan, he responds, his hand coming up to tangle in your hair as he deepens the kiss.
As you lose yourself in the sensation of Charles’ lips on yours, his strong arms pulling you closer, you feel a sense of rightness settle over you. You know that there will be consequences to face tomorrow, difficult conversations to be had. But for now, in this moment, you allow yourself to forget about everything else and simply feel.
When you finally pull apart, both breathing heavily, Charles rests his forehead against yours. “Y/N,” he whispers, his voice thick with emotion. “I’ve wanted to do that for so long.”
You smile, running your fingers through his hair. “Me too. I just didn’t realize it until now.”
He pulls back slightly, searching your eyes. “What happens now?”
You take a deep breath, considering your words carefully. “Now ... now we take things one step at a time. I can’t make any promises, Charles. I need to sort things out with Carlos, figure out what I really want.”
He nods, understanding and a hint of sadness in his eyes. “I know. And I’ll respect whatever decision you make. Just know that I’m here, Y/N. Whatever you need.”
You lean in, pressing another soft kiss to his lips. “Thank you. For everything.”
As you settle back into his arms, feeling safe and cared for in a way you haven’t in a long time, you know that whatever the future holds, this night has changed everything. And for the first time in a long time, you’re looking forward to what tomorrow might bring.
***
The soft morning light filters through the curtains, a sliver landing directly on the warming skin of your face. You stir slowly, awareness creeping in as you realize you’re not in your own bed. As your eyes flutter open, you find yourself nestled in Charles’ arms, his steady heartbeat a comforting rhythm against your cheek.
For a moment, panic flares in your chest as you try to piece together the events of the night before. But as memories flood back, you relax, remembering that while you and Charles shared kisses and conversation, nothing more intimate transpired.
Charles shifts beside you, his arms tightening slightly as he wakes. “Good morning,” he murmurs, his voice rough with sleep.
You tilt your head to look up at him, a small smile playing on your lips. “Good morning.”
He brushes a strand of hair from your face, his touch gentle. “How are you feeling?”
You take a moment to assess, surprised by the sense of calm that settles over you. “Better than I expected, actually.”
Charles nods, relief evident in his eyes. “I’m glad. I was worried you might regret ... well, everything.”
You shake your head, sitting up slightly to meet his gaze. “I don’t regret anything. Last night ... it made a lot of things clear for me.”
He raises an eyebrow, curiosity and hope warring in his expression. “Oh? What kind of things?”
You take a deep breath, steeling yourself for the conversation ahead. “I think ... I think I want to be with you. Not just for a hall pass, not just for one night. I want to see where this could go between us.”
Charles’ face lights up, joy radiating from every feature. But then, just as quickly, concern clouds his expression. “Y/N, as much as I want that — and believe me, I do — what about Carlos?”
You sigh, running a hand through your hair. “I need to end things with him. Properly. What he did, suggesting that hall pass ... it was just a symptom of bigger problems in our relationship. I see that now.”
Charles nods slowly, sitting up beside you. “Are you sure about this? I don’t want you to make any rash decisions because of one fight.”
You turn to face him fully, taking his hands in yours. “I’m sure. Last night, talking with you, being with you ... it made me realize what I’ve been missing. The respect, the understanding, the way you actually listen to me. I want that. I want you.”
A smile spreads across Charles’ face, but there’s still a hint of hesitation in his eyes. “You have no idea how happy it makes me to hear you say that. But ... are you sure you want to do this now? Maybe you should take some time, think things through.”
You shake your head, determination setting in. “No, I need to do this now. If I wait, I’ll just be living a lie. Carlos deserves to know the truth, and I ... I want to start this — us — with a clean slate.”
Charles squeezes your hands gently. “Okay. If you’re sure. But I’m not letting you face Carlos alone.”
You blink in surprise. “What do you mean?”
He meets your gaze steadily. “I mean I’m coming with you when you break up with him. I know Carlos, and I know he’s not going to take this well. I want to be there to support you.”
“Charles,” you protest weakly, “I can’t ask you to do that. It’s going to be messy enough without you there.”
He shakes his head firmly. “You’re not asking, I’m offering. More than that, I’m insisting. We’re in this together now. Let me be there for you.”
You feel tears prickling at the corners of your eyes, overwhelmed by his support. “Okay,” you whisper. “Thank you.”
Charles leans in, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “Always. Now, why don’t we get cleaned up and face this together?”
An hour later, freshly showered and steeled for the confrontation ahead, you stand outside the door to your suite with Charles by your side. Your hand trembles slightly as you raise it to knock.
“Hey,” Charles says softly, catching your hand in his. “It’s going to be okay. I’m right here with you.”
You nod, taking a deep breath before rapping your knuckles against the door. For a long moment, there’s silence. Then, just as you’re about to knock again, the door flies open.
Carlos stands there, his hair disheveled and dark circles under his eyes. His gaze flicks between you and Charles, confusion quickly morphing into anger.
“What the hell is this?” He demands, his voice rough.
You step forward, trying to keep your voice calm. “We need to talk.”
He laughs bitterly, throwing the door wider. “Oh, now you want to talk? After disappearing all night? Come on in, let’s have a nice chat.”
As you and Charles enter the suite, you can’t help but notice the state of disarray. Empty bottles litter the coffee table, and it’s clear Carlos hasn’t slept.
“Have a nice night?” Carlos spits, slamming the door behind you.
You flinch at the sound, but stand your ground. “I’m sorry for leaving like that. But we need to discuss what happened.”
He rounds on you, anger blazing in his eyes. “What’s there to discuss? You used your fucking hall pass, didn’t you? With him?” He jabs a finger at Charles, who remains calm but alert beside you.
“No, Carlos, I didn’t,” you say firmly. “Charles and I talked, that’s all.”
Carlos scoffs, pacing the room like a caged animal. “Oh, you expect me to believe that? You disappear all night, then show up with him in the morning, and I’m supposed to think nothing happened?”
Charles steps forward, his voice level. “She’s telling you the truth. Nothing happened between us last night.”
Carlos whirls on him, fury contorting his features. “Stay out of this, Leclerc. This is between me and my girlfriend.”
You feel anger bubbling up inside you at his possessive tone. “That’s just it. I’m not your girlfriend anymore.”
The room goes deathly silent as your words hang in the air. Carlos stares at you, shock replacing anger for a moment before his face hardens again.
“What did you just say?” He growls.
You stand tall, drawing strength from Charles’ presence beside you. “I said I’m not your girlfriend anymore. I’m breaking up with you.”
For a moment, Carlos looks like you’ve physically struck him. Then, with a roar of rage, he sweeps his arm across the nearest surface, sending glasses and bottles crashing to the floor.
“You fucking bitch!” He shouts, advancing on you. “You sleep with my teammate and then have the audacity to break up with me?”
Charles steps between you and Carlos, his voice low and dangerous. “Back off. Now.”
Carlos sneers at him. “Oh, defending your new whore, are you? How noble.”
You push past Charles, anger overriding your fear. “That’s enough! I told you, I didn’t sleep with Charles. But even if I had, it would have been my right. You’re the one who suggested this stupid hall pass in the first place!”
Carlos laughs bitterly. “Oh, so this is my fault now? I suggest a little harmless fantasy to spice things up, and you use it as an excuse to cheat on me?”
“It wasn’t harmless!” You shout back. “It was hurtful and disrespectful. Did you ever stop to think how it would make me feel, knowing you wanted permission to sleep with other women?”
Carlos runs his hands through his hair, frustration evident in every line of his body. “It wasn’t about that! It was just a game, a fantasy!”
You shake your head, feeling a wave of sadness wash over you. “That’s the problem. Our relationship isn’t a game. It’s not something to be risked on a whim. And the fact that you don’t understand that ... it just proves we’re not right for each other anymore.”
Carlos’ anger seems to deflate, replaced by a desperate pleading. “Y/N, please. We can work this out. I’m sorry about the hall pass thing, okay? I was an idiot. But don’t throw away everything we have over one stupid mistake.”
You feel tears welling up in your eyes, but you blink them back. “It’s not just about the hall pass. It’s about everything. The way you take me for granted, the way you never really listen to me. I deserve better than that. I deserve someone who respects me, who values me.”
Carlos’ gaze flicks to Charles, understanding dawning in his eyes. “And you think he’s that someone? My teammate? My friend?”
Charles steps forward, his voice soft but firm. “I’m sorry it happened this way. I never wanted to hurt you. But Y/N is right — she deserves better. And I want to be the one to give her that.”
For a moment, you think Carlos might lunge at Charles. But then, to your surprise, he crumples, sinking onto the edge of the bed with his head in his hands.
“How long?” He asks, his voice muffled.
You move closer, but stop short of touching him. “How long what?”
He looks up, his eyes red-rimmed. “How long have you two been ... feeling this way about each other?”
You exchange a glance with Charles before answering. “Honestly? I didn’t realize how I felt about Charles until last night. When he was there for me, really listening and supporting me ... it made me see what I’ve been missing.”
Carlos nods slowly, a bitter smile twisting his lips. “And you, Charles? How long have you been in love with my girlfriend?”
Charles takes a deep breath, meeting Carlos’ gaze steadily. “A while. But Carlos, I swear to you, nothing ever happened between us until last night. And even then, we didn’t sleep together. I respect you too much for that.”
Carlos laughs humorlessly. “Respect me? You’re stealing my girlfriend and you talk about respect?”
You feel a flare of irritation at his words. “He’s not stealing me. I’m not a possession. I’m making my own choice.”
Carlos stands abruptly, moving to the window and staring out at the city below. For a long moment, silence reigns in the room. When he finally speaks, his voice is quiet, defeated.
“Get out. Both of you. I can’t ... I can’t look at either of you right now.”
You take a step towards him, your heart aching despite everything. “Carlos ...”
He whirls around, his eyes flashing. “I said get out! Take your things and go. I’ll have the rest sent to you.”
You nod slowly, knowing that pushing further will only make things worse. As you move around the room, gathering your essential belongings, you feel a profound sadness settling over you. This is the end of a significant chapter in your life, and despite your certainty that it’s the right decision, it still hurts.
Charles waits by the door, a silent, supportive presence. When you’ve finished packing a small bag, you join him, pausing at the threshold to look back at Carlos one last time.
“I’m sorry it ended this way,” you say softly. “I hope ... I hope someday you can forgive us.”
Carlos doesn’t respond, doesn’t even turn to look at you. With a heavy sigh, you step into the hallway, Charles close behind you.
As the door clicks shut, you lean against the wall, suddenly feeling drained. Charles wraps an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close.
“Are you okay?” He asks gently.
You nod against his chest, taking comfort in his warmth. “I will be. It’s just ... it’s a lot.”
He presses a kiss to the top of your head. “I know. But you’re not alone. We’ll get through this together.”
You look up at him, managing a small smile despite the turmoil of emotions swirling inside you. “Together. I like the sound of that.”
***
The soft glow of the setting sun filters through the curtains of Charles’ hotel suite, casting a golden light across the room. You sit on the plush sofa, your legs tucked beneath you, a glass of Prosecco cradled in your hands. Across from you, Charles leans against the minibar, his own glass in hand, a soft smile playing on his lips as he watches you.
“What?” You ask, feeling a blush creep up your cheeks under his intense gaze.
Charles shakes his head, his smile widening. “Nothing. I just ... I can’t believe you’re really here. With me.”
You take a sip of your Prosecco, savoring the crisp, bubbly taste. “I’m having a hard time believing it myself. But I’m glad I am.”
Charles moves to join you on the sofa, settling in close enough that you can feel the warmth radiating from his body. “How are you feeling? After everything that happened with Carlos ...”
You sigh, leaning back against the cushions. “Honestly? I feel ... lighter. Like a weight I didn’t even know I was carrying has been lifted.”
Charles nods, his expression thoughtful. “I’m glad. But I want you to know that I don’t expect anything from you. If you need time, space ...”
You cut him off by placing your hand gently on his arm. “I appreciate that. But I’ve had years of space with Carlos. What I want now is to be here, with you.”
His eyes light up at your words, and he leans in, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. As he pulls back, you can’t help but smile at the joy radiating from him.
“You know,” you say, taking another sip of your Prosecco, “I have to admit, I was surprised when you ordered this.”
Charles raises an eyebrow. “The Prosecco? Why?”
You shrug, a wry smile tugging at your lips. “Carlos always insisted on ordering Spanish cava. He said it was better. I never had the heart to tell him I preferred Prosecco.”
Charles looks at you incredulously. “You’re kidding. He never noticed?”
You shake your head. “Nope. I mean, I drank it, of course. But ... I don’t know. It just never seemed important enough to make a fuss over.”
Charles sets his glass down on the coffee table, turning to face you fully. “Y/N, listen to me. Your preferences, your likes and dislikes — they’re important. They matter. You matter.”
You feel tears prickling at the corners of your eyes, overwhelmed by the sincerity in his voice. “Thank you. That ... that means a lot.”
He reaches out, gently wiping away a tear that has escaped. “It’s the truth. And for the record, I’ve known you preferred Prosecco since that team dinner in Monza two years ago.”
Your eyes widen in surprise. “You remember that?”
Charles nods, a soft smile playing on his lips. “Of course. You lit up when they brought out the Prosecco. Your whole face changed. I’ve never seen someone so happy over a glass of bubbly.”
You laugh, feeling a warmth spread through your chest that has nothing to do with the alcohol. “I can’t believe you noticed that.”
“I notice everything about you,” Charles says softly, his hand coming up to cup your cheek. “I always have.”
You lean into his touch, your heart racing. “Like what?”
Charles’ thumb traces gentle circles on your skin as he speaks. “Like how you always twist your hair around your finger when you’re deep in thought. Or how you bite your lip to hide your smile when you’re trying not to laugh at one of the guys’ bad jokes.”
You feel a blush creeping up your neck, touched by his attention to detail. “What else?”
He grins, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “Well, I know you have a secret stash of gummy bears in your purse for long flights. And that you always hum Dancing Queen under your breath when you’re in a good mood.”
You gasp in mock horror. “Charles Leclerc, have you been spying on me?”
He laughs, the sound rich and warm. “Not spying. Just ... paying attention. Is that okay?”
You nod, feeling a lump form in your throat at the tenderness in his gaze. “It’s more than okay. It’s ... it’s wonderful.”
Charles leans in, pressing his forehead against yours. “You’re wonderful. And you deserve someone who sees that, who appreciates every little thing about you.”
You close the distance between you, capturing his lips in a soft, sweet kiss. When you pull back, you’re both a little breathless.
“Charles,” you murmur, “I think I’m falling for you.”
His face lights up with joy. “That’s good, because I’ve already fallen for you.”
You laugh, feeling lighter than you have in years. “Oh really? When did that happen?”
Charles pretends to think for a moment. “Hmm, probably around the time you yelled at that journalist for asking me stupid questions after my DNF in Canada.”
You groan, hiding your face in your hands. “Oh god, I forgot about that. I was so embarrassed afterwards.”
He gently pries your hands away, his eyes shining with admiration. “Don’t be. It was amazing. No one’s ever defended me like that before.”
You shrug, feeling a bit sheepish. “He was being an ass. You didn’t deserve that after the race you had.”
Charles pulls you closer, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “See? That’s what I mean. You care. Deeply and fiercely. It’s one of the things I love most about you.”
You snuggle into his side, reveling in the warmth and safety of his embrace. “You know, it’s funny. I always thought I was happy with Carlos. But being here with you ... it’s making me realize how much I was missing.”
Charles presses a kiss to the top of your head. “Like what?”
You take a moment to gather your thoughts. “Well, for one thing, this. Just sitting and talking, really talking. With Carlos, it always felt like we were just going through the motions, you know? Like we were playing the roles of the perfect couple without really connecting.”
Charles nods, his hand rubbing soothing circles on your arm. “I get that. It’s easy to fall into patterns, to stop really seeing each other.”
“Exactly,” you agree. “And it’s not just the big things. It’s the little stuff too. Like ...” You pause, a memory suddenly surfacing. “Oh! Like the flowers.”
Charles raises an eyebrow. “Flowers?”
You sit up, turning to face him. “Yeah. Carlos always sent me these huge bouquets of red roses. Which, don’t get me wrong, were beautiful. But ...”
“But they’re not your favorite,” Charles finishes for you.
You blink in surprise. “How did you know that?”
He grins, looking a bit bashful. “Remember that charity gala in Milan last year? You spent at least ten minutes gushing over the centerpieces.”
You gasp, the memory flooding back. “The peonies! Oh my god, Charles, how do you remember these things?”
He shrugs, his eyes soft as he looks at you. “Like I said, I pay attention. Especially when it comes to you.”
You feel your heart swell with affection. “Well, Mr. Attentive, what else have you noticed about me?”
Charles pretends to think hard, tapping his chin dramatically. “Let’s see ... I know you prefer your coffee with just a splash of milk, no sugar. You always double-knot your shoelaces before a run. Oh, and you have a secret obsession with cheesy 80s power ballads.”
You laugh, playfully swatting his arm. “Okay, now I know you’re making things up. There’s no way you could know about my power ballad addiction.”
He raises an eyebrow, a mischievous glint in his eye. “Oh really? So if I were to start singing Total Eclipse of the Heart, you wouldn’t immediately join in?”
Your jaw drops. “How ... how did you ...”
Charles grins triumphantly. “Team karaoke night in Singapore. You thought everyone was too drunk to remember, but I wasn’t as far gone as I let on.”
You groan, burying your face in your hands. “Oh god, I’m never going to live that down, am I?”
He gently pries your hands away, his expression soft and sincere. “Hey, no hiding. I loved it. You were so free, so happy. It was beautiful to watch.”
You feel tears prickling at your eyes again, overwhelmed by the depth of his feelings. “Charles ...”
He cups your face in his hands, his thumbs gently wiping away the tears that have escaped. “Y/N, I want you to know that I see you. All of you. The good, the bad, the silly, the serious. And I love every part of it.”
You lean into his touch, your heart racing. “I’m starting to see you too, Charles. And I ... I think I might be falling in love with what I see.”
His face lights up with joy, and he pulls you in for a deep, passionate kiss. When you finally break apart, you’re both breathless and grinning.
“So,” Charles says, his voice low and husky, “what do you say we order some room service? I’m thinking ... chocolate lava cake for dessert?”
You gasp in delight. “How did you know that’s my favorite?”
He winks, reaching for the room service menu. “I told you, mon cœur. I pay attention.”
As Charles calls down to place the order, you lean back against the sofa, a contented smile playing on your lips. You can’t help but marvel at how different this feels from your relationship with Carlos. With Charles, you feel seen, heard, understood in a way you never have before.
When he hangs up the phone and rejoins you on the sofa, you curl into his side, feeling perfectly at home in his arms. As the night deepens around you, filled with laughter, deep conversations, and stolen kisses, you know that this is just the beginning of something beautiful. With Charles, you’re not just being loved — you’re being cherished, appreciated for every little thing that makes you who you are.
And as you drift off to sleep in his arms later that night, the taste of chocolate and Prosecco still lingering on your lips, you can’t help but feel that you’ve finally found where you truly belong.
***
Carlos stands at the edge of the pit lane, his eyes fixed on the scene unfolding before him. You and Charles are huddled together by the Ferrari garage, laughing and talking animatedly. The sight sends a sharp pang through Carlos’ chest, a mixture of anger, jealousy, and regret swirling in his gut.
He watches as Charles leans in, whispering something in your ear that makes you throw your head back in laughter. Carlos grits his teeth, remembering a time when he was the one to make you laugh like that.
“They look happy, don’t they?” A voice says beside him.
Carlos turns to see Lando standing there, a sympathetic look on his face. “What do you want?” Carlos growls, not in the mood for conversation.
Lando holds up his hands in a placating gesture. “Just checking on you, mate. I know this can’t be easy to watch.”
Carlos scoffs, turning his attention back to you and Charles. “I’m fine. It’s not like I care what she does anymore.”
Even as he says the words, Carlos knows they’re a lie. He does care. He cares so much it feels like he’s being torn apart from the inside.
He watches as Charles pulls out a small package from his pocket, handing it to you with a flourish. Your eyes light up as you unwrap it, revealing what looks like a bag of candy.
“What’s that about?” Carlos mutters, more to himself than to Lando.
Lando squints, trying to get a better look. “Looks like ... gummy bears? Huh, I didn’t know Y/N liked those.”
Carlos feels like he’s been punched in the gut. “She doesn’t,” he says automatically. But even as the words leave his mouth, he sees the way you’re beaming at Charles, popping a gummy bear into your mouth with evident delight.
“You sure about that?” Lando asks, raising an eyebrow.
Carlos doesn’t respond, his mind racing. How had he never known you liked gummy bears? Had you ever mentioned it? Had he ever bothered to ask?
He’s pulled from his thoughts by the sound of your laughter again. Charles is holding out his phone, showing you something on the screen. As you lean in to look, Charles’ arm slips around your waist, pulling you close.
Carlos feels his hands clench into fists at his sides. He wants to look away, but he can’t seem to tear his eyes from the scene.
“You know,” Lando says carefully, “maybe you should talk to them. Clear the air.”
Carlos shakes his head vehemently. “There’s nothing to talk about. She made her choice.”
Lando sighs. “Look, mate, I know you’re hurting. But-”
“But nothing,” Carlos snaps. “Just drop it.”
Lando holds up his hands in surrender. “Alright, alright. I’m here if you need to talk, though.”
As Lando walks away, Carlos continues to watch you and Charles. He sees the way Charles’ hand rests on the small of your back, the way you lean into him as if it’s the most natural thing in the world.
Suddenly, Charles looks up, his eyes meeting Carlos’ across the paddock. For a moment, they just stare at each other, an unspoken tension crackling between them. Then, to Carlos’ surprise, Charles says something to you and starts making his way over.
Carlos straightens, steeling himself for the confrontation. As Charles approaches, he can see you watching anxiously from a distance.
“Carlos,” Charles says, his voice cautious. “Can we talk?”
Carlos crosses his arms, his jaw clenched. “What’s there to talk about?”
Charles sighs, running a hand through his hair. “Look, I know this situation is ... complicated. But I want you to know that I never meant to hurt you.”
Carlos laughs bitterly. “Hurt me? You stole my girlfriend. How did you think that was going to make me feel?”
Charles shakes his head. “I didn’t steal anyone. Y/N made her own choice.”
“Right,” Carlos spits. “And I’m sure you had nothing to do with that.”
Charles takes a deep breath, clearly trying to keep his composure. “I won’t deny that I had feelings for Y/N for a long time. But I never acted on them while you were together. Never.”
Carlos scoffs. “Oh, how noble of you.”
“Carlos, please,” Charles says, his voice softening. “I know you’re angry, and you have every right to be. But can’t you see how happy she is?”
Carlos’ eyes flick back to you, standing by the garage and watching them anxiously. He hates to admit it, but you do look happy. Happier than he can remember seeing you in a long time.
“She was happy with me,” Carlos insists, but the words sound hollow even to his own ears.
Charles gives him a sad smile. “Was she? Really? Because from what she’s told me, there were a lot of things you never noticed about her.”
Carlos feels a flare of anger. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means,” Charles says carefully, “that sometimes we take the people we love for granted. We stop seeing them, really seeing them.”
Carlos wants to argue, to defend himself, but he finds the words sticking in his throat. Because deep down, he knows Charles is right.
“Did you know,” Charles continues, his voice gentle, “that her favorite flowers are pink peonies? Not red roses?”
Carlos blinks, caught off guard. “What?”
Charles nods. “Or that she prefers Prosecco to cava? Or that she has a secret addiction to 80s power ballads?”
With each revelation, Carlos feels like he’s being hit with a fresh wave of regret. How had he missed all of these things? How had he failed to notice what made you, you?
“I ...” Carlos starts, then stops, unsure of what to say.
Charles puts a hand on his shoulder, the gesture surprisingly kind given the circumstances. “I’m not telling you this to hurt you. I’m telling you because I want you to understand. Y/N deserves to be with someone who sees her, who appreciates every little thing about her.”
Carlos nods slowly, the fight draining out of him. “And that someone is you?”
Charles smiles softly. “I hope so. I’m certainly trying to be.”
They stand in silence for a moment, both looking over at you. You’re still watching them anxiously, clearly worried about what they might be saying to each other.
Finally, Carlos speaks, his voice rough with emotion. “Just ... just promise me you’ll treat her right. Better than I did.”
Charles nods solemnly. “I promise. With everything I have.”
As Charles turns to walk back to you, Carlos calls out, “Charles?”
Charles pauses, looking back over his shoulder.
“Thank you,” Carlos says quietly. “For loving her the way she deserves.”
Charles gives him a small, understanding smile before continuing on his way. Carlos watches as he returns to you, sees the way your face lights up as Charles pulls you into a comforting embrace.
As he turns to walk away, Carlos feels a mix of emotions swirling inside him. There’s still pain, still regret, but there’s also a glimmer of something else. Something that feels a lot like acceptance.
He realizes now that he had taken you for granted, had failed to see the beautiful, complex person you truly were. And while it hurts to admit it, he knows that Charles sees all of that and more.
As he makes his way back to his own garage, Carlos makes a silent promise to himself. To pay more attention, to really see the people in his life. Because he never wants to make the same mistake again, never wants to lose someone else because he failed to appreciate them.
And as he glances back one last time, seeing you and Charles walking hand-in-hand, laughing and lost in your own world, Carlos feels a weight lift from his shoulders.
It’s not easy, and it still hurts, but he knows now that this is how it should be. You deserve to be with someone who knows you, truly knows you, inside and out.
And as much as it pains him to admit it, that someone isn’t him. It’s Charles.
With a deep breath, Carlos turns away, ready to face whatever comes next. He’s lost you, but in doing so, he’s gained a valuable lesson. One he won’t soon forget.
995 notes · View notes
tender-rosiey · 1 day
Text
maybe jelly — gojo satoru x f!reader
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a/n: gojo getting jealous? 👁️👁️
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you arrive at jujutsu high, as you prepare for your guest lecture. you’ve given these talks before, but this time, something feels a little different—satoru is acting strange.
not that he’s ever normal, but today he seems extra…dramatic.
“you’re going to kill it, babe,” satoru says, draping his arm over your shoulders as you walk toward the classroom. his blindfold hides his eyes, but you can feel the intensity of his gaze, more focused than usual.
“you okay?” you ask, glancing at him with a teasing grin. “you seem a little... off.”
“me? off? never,” he replies, lips pulling into his trademark smirk. “just making sure no one gets too cozy with my brilliant wife. gotta make sure these kids remember you’re taken.”
you roll your eyes playfully, “I think everybody and their mother know that, satoru.”
time passes by, and now, you stand at the front of the lecture hall at jujutsu high, wrapping up your talk.
the students seem genuinely engaged, and one in particular, a young sorcerer named ren, is practically bouncing with enthusiasm, asking follow-up questions.
“and how did you manage to seal that curse without any physical confrontation?” ren asks, his voice brimming with admiration and curiosity.
before you could respond, satoru appears at your side with his usual confidence, his presence instantly commanding attention, “well, she is the wife of the gojo satoru. kinda comes with the territory,” he interjects, flashing his signature grin.
you shoot him an exasperated look, “I’m pretty sure my skills had something to do with it.”
satoru leans in close, nuzzling against your cheek affectionately before pulling back slightly. “oh, of course, sweetheart. you’re amazing, but it doesn’t hurt to be married to the strongest sorcerer around, right?”
ren blinks, clearly caught off guard by the interaction.
he glances between you and satoru, his expression a mix of confusion and awe. “I wasn’t aware you were married,” he mutters, his gaze flickering between you and satoru as if trying to process this new information.
you smile and give satoru a jab into his ribs that he takes like a champ, “yeah, he likes to remind people. it’s kind of his thing.”
satoru, never one to miss an opportunity to make a grand statement, leans down and places a soft kiss on the top of your head.
his arm slips casually around your waist, “just keeping things clear. y'know, in case anyone forgets that I get the honor of calling you mine.”
ren tries to steer the conversation back to his question, “so, about the sealing technique…”
satoru cuts him off again, stepping slightly in front of you with a playful yet firm stance.
“hey, hey, let’s not bombard her with too many questions now. she’s been on her feet alllll day, talking about all the cool stuff she’s done and showing everybody just how badass she is.”
you roll your eyes but can’t suppress a small smile. stepping around him to face ren again, you continue, “ignore him. the technique I used requires focusing on—”
satoru clears his throat dramatically, pulling you back to his side and wrapping his arm around your shoulders, eyes boring into the poor boy even through his blindfold.
“you know what I think? I think my lovely wife deserves a break. maybe some alone time with her handsome, strong, and incredibly talented husband?”
you raise an eyebrow at him, your tone teasing. “handsome and humble, I see.”
satoru’s grin widens, and he leans down to whisper in your ear, “I can be both when it comes to you.”
you are about to retort back, but then you remember that ren is still here.
you turn to the boy with a smile and assure him, “anyway, ren, if you want to chat more about techniques, we can catch up later. after my husband gets over himself,” you hiss at the man who raises his hands in surrender.
ren, now visibly flustered and unsure, mumbled, “uh, I’ll… catch up with you later then. thanks for the talk!”
ren dashes out the room, slamming the door behind him. you tap your feet against the ground for a few minutes, before you elbow satoru again.
he stays standing up, chest puffed out and a big grin plastered on his face. you deadpan as you stare at your husband, “you really couldn’t help yourself, could you?”
satoru shrugs nonchalantly, still holding you close. he hums, giving you a kiss on the forehead, “what can I say? I don’t like sharing. besides, you are the wife of the strongest sorcerer; it’s important to make sure that’s clear.”
you roll your eyes, but you can’t help but smile helplessly at your husband. your fingers find their way through his hair making him instantly melt. you giggle at your puddle of a husband, “you’re so lucky I love you.”
he tilts his head slightly, his eyes softening as he looks at you. “I love you more, soooooooooooo—”
“oh my god, I get it,” you laugh as you try to push him off. he resists with a whine as he nuzzles his face into your shoulder. you yield and let the silence fill the room.
he hums softly as you both sway mindlessly.
“but y’know,” you pull back slightly, smiling up at him, “you really do like to make an impression.”
he chuckles, his eyes twinkling with a mix of pride and mischief, “just doing my part to ensure everyone knows how lucky I am and how lucky they should feel to be in the presence of my extraordinary wife.”
he intertwines your left hands together and raises them slightly, showing off the rings. the sun makes them shine quite brightly, and it makes you sigh with a smile and satoru let out a huff of laughter.
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checkeredflagggs · 2 days
Text
Aftermath of a Storm
Pairing: oscar piastri x sargeant!Storm chaser!fem!reader
summary: people are shocked to learn about alice and oscar
a/n: tbh i really meant for the first part to have more of the other drivers learning about Barbie and Alice but obviously that didn’t happen 😂
a/n 2: timelines? What timelines? Idk know them
Part 1
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Twitter
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Private Messages - Logan, Oscar, Alice
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Private Messages - The Grid, Fun
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Private Messages - Logan, Oscar, Alice
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mclaren
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liked by drbarbie, teammate1, logansargeant, oscarpiastri, and 4,822,445 others
tagged: drbarbie, oscarpiastri
mclaren: Check the weather this weekend! Because there must be a storm moving in —Oscar Piastri is taking Dr. Alice “Barbie” Sargeant, Williams Racing’s Logan Sargeant’s twin sister and notable storm chaser, on a hot lap here in Mexico!
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user1: oh my god this is everything I never knew I needed
user2: oh yeah hey mclaren don’t forget to mention THAT THEY ARE DATING
oscarpiasti: it’s gonna be a good time!
logansargeant: it’s been nice knowing you
oscarpiasti: I’m sure it’ll be fine
logansargeant: you sure about that? you SURE about that?
logansargeant: are we talking about the same girl?
user4: WHAT DOES THIS MEAN?
used5: LET US IN. LET US IN!! YOURE AMERICAN — SPILL THE TEA
landonorris: Oscar! You didn’t tell me you had a girlfriend!!!! 😡😡😡
oscarpiastri: I’m sure I mentioned it.
landonorris: I’m sure YOU HAVENT!?!
oscarpiastri: of course I have. are you sure you were listening?
landonorris: of course I was LISTENING! You just haven’t said A WORD!? Since when have you had a girlfriend?
oscarpiastri: we’ve been together for nearly 7 years
landonorris: 7 years?!?
oscarpiastri: yes.
landonorris: WHAT?!??!
user6: WHAT?
user7: uhh raise your hand if you had Oscar Piastri has a secret girlfriend, Logan Sargeant has a twin sister, or the two would be the same person on your bingo card this year
user8: ok but if anyone on the grid had a secret girlfriend of course it’s gonna be Oscar?
user7: you got me there
user9: 7 years?!? How do you hide a girlfriend for 7 years? Especially one as cool as drbarbie?
user10: user9 asking the real questions
user11: right?? How did some guy who drives in silly circles score such a cool badass girlfriend?
drbarbie: I ran over him with my bike one day
user11: WHAT?!?
drbarbie: ummmm what is this??? oscarpiastri WHAT DID YOU DO???
logansargeant: apparently signed you up to tackle a hot lap
drbarbie: NO
drbarbie: ABSOLUTELY NOT
drbabrie: SPEED AND I DO! NOT! MIX!!
drbarbie: oscarpiastri ANSWER YOUR PHONE
drbarbie: nicolepiastri where is your son? I’d like to have some words with him
nicolepiastri: you and me both sweetie
user12: you chase tornadoes but can’t do a hot lap?
drbarbie: THERE IS A MAJOR DIFFERENCE BETWEEN THE TWO!
user13: and you prefer the storms?
drbarbie: YES!!
f1gossippage
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liked by logansargeant, oscarpiastri, teammate1, and 3,997,455 others
f1gossippage: a hot lap for the records! Oscar Piastri drove girlfriend Barbie Sargeant around the track twice today! Definitely seems like she’s not a fan
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user14: not a fan? I’d say 😂 I didn’t know anyone could scream that high tbh
user15: those were genuinely screams of terror…save my girl 😭
user16: Barbie Sargeant? Nah fam you did not do my girl dirty like that. Put some respect in her damn name. It’s DR. ALICE “BARBIE” SARGEANT
user17: oh thank god someone said it. She did not get 2 phd’s by the time she was 21 to have that be disrespected
user18: no shit really?
user17: yes! She graduated with double phd’s in meteorology and mechanical engineering from Cornell when she was 20!
used18: so fucking cool! And yea! PUT SOME DAMN RESPECT IN HER NAME!
user19: someone with more experience needs to watch this entire clip and then make gif sets of the ENTIRE thing because her face goes on a lot of journeys
user20: most of those journeys end in murder i think
drbarbie: they do. They will
logansargeant: maybe don’t threaten Oscar on a public instagram post?
drbarbie: for once in your life, stay in your lane. Unless you’d like to join him?
logansargeant: …carry on.
user20: logansargeant what was that??
logansargeant: I support women’s Rights and Wrongs
drbarbie: good
oscarpiasti: oh these are good pictures!
drbarbie: you are a dead man walking Piastri
oscarpiastri: would you really hurt me?
drbarbie: yes
oscarpiastri: what about my mother and sisters?
drbarbie: nicolepiastri soooo…you’re gonna be down a son soon. I can offer Logan?
nicolepiastri: oh we’d love to have the two of you visit again soon logansargeant and drbarbie
oscarpiastri: nicolepiastri mum??
user21: not nicolepiastri supporting this 🤣😭
teammate1: 😂😂😂
drbarbie: I sign your checks. Watch yourself
teammate1: girl this is too damn funny
drbarbie: 🙄😑
Private Messages - Oscar, Logan, Alice
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drbarbie
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liked by oscarpiastri, logansargeant, and 3,728,388 others
tagged: oscarpiastri
drbarbie: it’s your turn now! 🥰
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user22: the hearts make this a very ominous message
drbarbie: it’s supposed to be!
user22: oh!
oscarpiastri: babe?
oscarpiastri: what do you mean my turn?
drbarbie: I told you! I’d only ever get in your car when you get in mine!
drbarbie: so convenient that you have a break and dolly is back from the mechanics right now! 🧡🩵🧡
oscarpiastri: ummm…🏃🏻‍♂️💨
user23: ok but is she really gonna take him through a tornado???
user24: that does seem like it’s the plan?
user23: I can’t watch this 🙈
user24: she’s a professional?
drbarbie: more confidence in me please
user24: you right you right
user: SHES A PROFESSIONAL
drbarbie: thank you!
logansargeant: good luck! Have fun!
drbarbie: 😊😊😊
logansargeant:…no.
logansargeant: What did I do?
logansargeant: come on I helped you
logansargeant: I’m on your side!!
teammate3: dolly is ready to roll!!
oscarpiastri: that better be a joke
teammate1:…
teammate2:…
teammate3:…
teammate4:…
teammate5:…
Private Messages - The Grid, Serious
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drbarbie
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liked by oscarpiastri, logansargeant, charles_leclerc, and 4,288,373 others
tagged: oscarpiastri, logansargeant
drbarbie: don’t worry guys! They made it through the “storm” a-ok! (Come on guys, have a little faith. I’d never actually take someone unprepared into an actual tornado. Plus prime tornado season is over for the year!)
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user25: oh thank god. I was so very nervous
user26: girl you ain’t the only one. Check the video at 14:25. Oscar’s fingers are fucking white with panic 😂😂
oscarpiastri: thank you love for not subjecting me to a tornado
logansargeant: yes thank you my very favorite sister who is definitely the best and best and most wonderful
oscarpiastri: yes! Most wonderful and loving and beautiful girlfriend ever
drbarbie:…laying it on a little bit thick aren’t you?
logansargeant: quite literally whatever I have to do so I never ever ever ever have to get in that truck again!
drbarbie: don’t you dare disrespect dolly!
logansargeant: never!
oscarpiastri: dolly is a queen! We aren’t worthy.
logansargeant: yes! We definitely shouldn’t be in that truck ever again
drbarbie: babies…fine
user26: wow!!!! 🤩 those photos are stunning!
drbarbie: thank you! When I was planning this I knew the conditions were gonna be good for some nice thunderstorms but even I didn’t expect this level!
user26: so you just…followed them around?
drbarbie: yup! It’s something our parents used to do for me when logie and I were young - the driving being a lot more calm then normal is just about the only difference (my passengers complained the entire time 🙄)
user27: oh that’s so cute! (They seem like the type 😂)
landonorris: stunning
drbarbie: thank you!
oscarpiastri: no
landonorris: I didn’t say anything?
oscarpiastri: and yet the answer is no. Go away
georgerussell63: shut down!
landonorris: why am I catching strays on my comment thread???
charles_leclerc: these are magnificent photos! And it looked like a fun trip to get them
drbarbie: thank you! (Oh my god oscarpiastri I’ve been noticed by your father!)
oscarpiastri: that’s cool babe
charles_leclerc: yes! Welcome to the family. We expect you for dinner soon
drbarbie: score!
alicepublic
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liked by landonorris, charles_leclerc, oscarpiastri, and 3,590,455 others
tagged: oscarpiastri
alicepublic: happy anniversary my love. The best 7 years of my life so far — with many more to go 🧡🧡🧡
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oscarpiastri: I can’t believe that it’s only been 7 years, I feel like I’ve known you for a lifetime already — I couldn’t imagine spending it with anyone else.
alicepublic: oh my love…
user28: water is wet. Fork found in the kitchen. I’m sleeping on the highway!
user29: sleepover!!
oscarpiastri: You’re the best thing that has ever happened to me 🩷
mclaren: you won the race last week?
alicepublic: uhhh your point?
oscarpiastri: and? I said what I said!
mclaren: alrighty then! Well said!
charles_leclerc: happy anniversary my son and daughter in law!
alicepublic: not a daughter in law yet but thank you!
oscarpiastri: soon!
alicepublic: WHAT?!? 😳 🫢
logansargeant: 7 years of being a third wheel and they don’t even tag me…EVEN THOUGH I'M VERY BLATANTLY IN THIS PHOTO DUMP
alicepublic: chill out dude
oscarpiastri: thank you for being our favorite third wheel and for taking these wonderful photos
logansargeant: Oscar is my favorite
alicepublic: I’d be mad but same tbh
user30: it’s been years but yay! Dr Barbie’s priv account is finally open
user31: oh my god baby her and baby Oscar are so cute!
user30: I know!! I’ve been getting fomo going through her posts - like what do you mean I haven’t been growing up with them?
user32: yeah alicepublic can we get an explanation for that photo near the beginning of you on a bike and Oscar bleeding?
alicepublic: that was the first day we met! My bike broke (no brakes) and as I was trying to slow down I accidentally ran over Oscar!
oscarpiastri: best accident I’ve ever had!
user32: ok this is the cutest meet-cute! ♥️
landonorris: unfortunately you guys are cute…
alicepublic: what 🥺 🥺 …
oscarpiastri: what do you mean unfortunately?
landonorris: yeah — can’t have anyone cuter than me in the garage so you’re uninvited to mclaren
oscarpiastri: happily you can’t make those decisions (slides $5 to mclaren)
mclaren: don’t worry alicepublic ! Permanent paddock pass for you!
landonorris: WHAT? NO!
landonorris: IM STILL CATCHING STRAYS ON MY COMMENT THREADS
433 notes · View notes
corkinavoid · 3 days
Text
DPxDC Afterlife, But It's A Bar
[discontinued, feel free to add on]
It was weird. Not wrong, alarming or dangerous type of weird. Not good or comforting either.
Just plain weird.
It all started a few days ago, on Wednesday, to be exact. On a rare occasion, Jason was patrolling outside of his territory ("cover for me, I have a date" my ass, Replacement), and he spotted something out of place. A neon green, almost toxic colored sign that read "Afterlife".
Honestly, who names a place like that? But judging by the placement and design, it was a bar, and Jason could almost appreciate the irony. Maybe it had a slogan along the lines of "our drinks will send you beyond the lines of life and death" or something. But at the same time, it could be interpreted as "alcohol can and will be the death of you," which, technically, is not the best PR campaign for a bar.
Jason decided to visit the place anyway. He was curious about the implied death joke, sue him.
Of course, he didn't visit immediately. He was still on patrol, and he just heard the sound of gunshots to the west. Not to say that the place was quiet.
(Oddly quiet for a bar in Gotham, now that he thinks about it)
Anyway, the next day, he went there not as Red Hood but as Jason Todd, an ordinary civilian who decided to grab a beer in the evening. Only to not find the place.
He couldn't have just miss it - he remembered the street, he knew the building, he was absolutely fucking sure where the "Afterlife" should have been. He searched the whole block nonetheless, and then proceeded to check the whole area, but to no avail.
Damn, it seems like he can't get to the afterlife both literally and- the other literally. Yeah, he might be having too much fun with the oddly chosen name for the nonexistent bar.
It didn't exist on the maps and internet either. At this point, Jason was contemplating the idea of it being a hallucination or a dream. He even checked the recording on his helmet from Wednesday night, but the whole time he was in the area, the video was filled with interference and static.
Weird. Slightly suspicious, but Red Robin, who's been patrolling the same area for weeks before him, never reported any interferences, so it probably had something to do with his helmet and not the area in general.
On Thursday night, he purposefully went there right after patrol. And the nonexistent bar suddenly existed again! The same neon green sign, the same quiet street around it.
Seriously, what is this mysterious fuckery?
Now, if he was a Bat, he would have reported this to others and investigated, lurked around in shadows, and approached with caution. If he was a Robin, he would have still reported and then straight up marched in there and saw how it goes.
Alas, he was Red Hood, so he decided to watch for the bar guests and see just who the hell goes in and out of the place.
And there was the next weird thing.
No one was going in or out. Jason sat there for a whole hour, and not even one person entered or left the building. Despite the muffled sounds of music, voices and laughter coming from the place.
The final kicker was the fact that after some careful questioning and dropping hints, Jason found out that no one except him ever saw the "Afterlife"'s sign. No one's even heard of it, both the Batclan and the Gothamites.
The fuck?
So he did the next logical thing. He brought the smartest member of the Bats with him. Tim owed him anyway. Might as well use it now instead of later.
Friday night proved two things: one, Tim was still his favorite to work with out of all the bats and birds, not questioning anything as to why Jason is asking him to check out a bar, and two, Jason just might be going insane.
Tim couldn't see the "Afterlife" even when Jason pointed at the sign from not further than ten feet. The irony of the stipid name was not even amusing anymore.
Tim didn't ask any questions after this experiment, and Jason didn't want to admit that he is losing the grip of reality, so they ended up simply parting their ways after. Can the Pits cause brain damage? More damage than there was in the first place, that is.
Now that he thinks about it, the color of the sign is really similar to the Lazarus waters. He should have noticed it sooner, but in his defense, who would look at the bubbling pool of toxic waters and think, "Oh, that would make a dope neon sign"? Apparently, the owner of the "Afterlife".
The color might be just a coincidence.
...no, in the world he lives in, coincidences like this just don't happen. Besides, Jason doesn't believe in shit like fate or destiny.
So, here he is, on Saturday night, standing in front of the door to the Afterlife. It would have been funny if it wasn't so weird. What's even more weird is that the closer he gets to the door, the less nervous he feels, like the place is radiating some calming aura. Wait, no, scratch that, Jason is so not calling it a calming aura for God's sake. That sounds just like those homemade witches with their crystals, tarot readings, and whatnot.
He's going to call it... tranquilizer vibes. Yeah, that's better.
He takes a deep breath, getting ready to see whatever it is on the other side, pushes the door open, and walks into the bar.
...
Whatever he's been expecting to see, it's not this.
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krirebr · 3 days
Text
Luck Be a Lady
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Pairing: soft!dark Curtis Everett x female reader
Word Count: ~10.1k
Summary: Desperate for money, you accept a job as a cocktail waitress at an underground casino. You think you know what you're doing, but when you meet Curtis, will you realize you're in over your head?
Warnings: Mob AU, violence, allusions to murder, explicit language, dubcon touching, noncon touching (not Curtis), willfully oblivious reader, SMUT - facefucking, dirty talk, light d/s dynamics, praise kink, other explicit sexual content. This is definitely on the darker end of the soft!dark spectrum, so proceed with caution! All of my work is 18+ - Minors DNI
Dividers by @thecutestgrotto
Masterlist
A/N: And here it finally is! This is my first real attempt at soft!dark. I hope I did it right! 😂
This was inspired by two things: 1) me going to a rep screening of Goodfellas and spending the entire time wondering why I hadn't done a mob au yet and 2) @bigtreefest saying "enforcer!Curtis Everett and mob boss!Andy Barber" in my general direction. Thanks for the inspo, friend!!
And big thanks as always to @paperweight91 who not only came up with Curtis's name for reader but also offered heaps of encouragement and was a great sounding board. And thanks to @stargazingfangirl18 for helping me figure out how exactly we'd get to the smut. Thanks Siri!
Any comment, reblog, or ask to let me know what you think will be greatly appreciated. Please come scream at me about this! 😄 As always, thank you so much for reading! 💜
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You fruitlessly tug down your very short skirt as Holly talks at you. You’re both standing in the corner of the bar’s basement waiting for the night to start in earnest—your first night.
��Lloyd’s not so bad,�� she says of your boss, the man who runs this little underground gambling ring. “You’ll have to split your tips with him at the end of the night, but he doesn’t take that much, and you’ll make enough that you won’t really notice. As long as you do that, he’ll mostly keep his hands to himself.”
You nod along, glancing at the mustachioed man conferring with the bouncer at the door. The interview process for this job had boiled down to a thorough once-over that’d made you feel naked in your jeans and t-shirt and a “You’re not too stupid to take a drink order, are you?” and then you had the job.
Holly had vouched for you. Neighbors for almost half a year, she’d come home early one morning last week and witnessed you trying to convince the landlord that you were good for your past-due rent. She’d taken you for coffee and told you she might be able to help if you were good at keeping your head down and mouth shut. And now you were here.
“The customers, on the other hand,” she continues, smacking her gum, “you’ll have to let them touch, at least a little bit. Within reason, you know? But if anything gets out of hand, you can just tell Jake at the door and he’ll take care of it.”
“Within reason?” you ask, voice shaking, just the littlest bit, as the pit that started forming in your stomach when you agreed to this grows a little more.
The look she gives you verges on exasperated. “Well, you want to make money, don’t you?”
Yes, you do. Very much so. It’s a need, not a want. So you nod and try to listen as she keeps giving you the rundown. 
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Before you’re ready, the first patrons start trickling in and then you’re off to the races. It’s not too bad. No one’s orders are too complicated, mostly just bottles of beer and glasses of straight whiskey. The bartender, Colin, is friendly enough, although you learn that he’s another person you’ll need to split your tips with. 
As for the touching, there are hands on your hips, pats to your ass. But you’re rewarded with folded-up bills held up between fingers or tucked into the strap of your top. Or, twice, slid behind the waistband of your skirt. Once you realize that the majority of these bills aren’t ones or fives, but twenties, you care about the touching that comes with them much less. Plus, you’re too busy to really think about it that hard. 
You can’t believe how busy it is for a random Tuesday night, multiple games of poker, craps, and who knows what else all going at once. But when you mention that to Holly, she just laughs and shakes her head. “This is nothing,” she says. “On the weekends there’ll be three more of us and another one of Jake. Things get wild.” 
You don’t have time to decide whether that makes you nervous or excited before someone is signaling for your attention again. You manage to suppress your grimace when he slides his arm around your waist to tell you what he needs from the bar. You’re rewarded for your troubles by a wad of twenties. You aren’t sure who these men are to tip so freely, but you know better than to look a gift horse in the mouth.
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It’s an hour or two later that Lloyd calls you over to where he’s speaking to a large, impossibly broad man, dressed in a soft-looking henley under a leather jacket with dark jeans. There’s dark ink all over his hands that disappears up his sleeves and reappears on his neck in intricate lines. He’s got close-cropped hair and a full beard that’s neatly trimmed. His deep blue eyes drill into you right away and you do your best not to shiver.
“Got a new girl tonight, Everett. Still learning the ropes, but she’ll take good care of you, won’t you, Cupcake?” 
“Yes, of course,” you say, before Lloyd wanders off to check on one of the poker games.
The man, Everett, lets his eyes rove over you. “Cupcake, huh?” His voice is deep, gritty, but there's something there that's much gentler than you expected.
You give him what you hope is a coy smile. “Sure. If you want.” Lloyd was treating him like he's important. You hope important means deep pockets.
He hits you with a penetrative stare, so strong you almost have to take a step back. “No,” he finally says. “I don't think so. I'll find something more fitting.” Then he turns and starts to walk away, before calling over his shoulder. “I'm gonna get dealt in. Bring me a whiskey once I'm settled.”
You watch him go for just a moment, and then head to the bar, asking for a whiskey. 
“This for Everett?” the bartender, Colin, asks. When you nod, he grabs a fancy bottle off the top shelf. “This is all he drinks. And he doesn't pay for it, alright? Don't ever think about giving him a bill.” 
You look back at the man in question, seriously looking at the cards he’s just been dealt. Who is he???
You collect his whiskey and move back to him. As you set it down, he turns to you. “How about this?” he asks as he holds up a crisply folded hundred-dollar bill between two fingers. Your eyes widen at the money. All you’ve done is bring him one straight pour. “There’s another one of these in it for you if you make sure I never see the bottom of this glass tonight. Sound good?” And then he folds the bill one more time in his thick fingers, before sliding it under the low-cut neckline of your blouse. Your skin tingles where he brushes against it.
“Yeah, you got it,” you just breathe out, a little shocked you’re able to form words. He gives you a smug smile that you can only describe as shark-like before turning back to his cards, and you understand it as the dismissal that it is. 
You move around the room, collecting empties, getting refills, trying to goodnaturedly accept unsolicited touches. The whole time you feel eyes on you, but whenever you glance Everett’s way, he’s focused on his poker game.
Eventually, a down moment finds you catching your breath against the wall. The moment Holly sees you standing still, she’s quickly making her way to you. “You need to be more careful around Curtis,” she hisses, lowly.
You look at her, confused. “Curtis?” Jake’s at the door. Colin’s behind the bar. You don’t know a Curtis.
“Curtis Everett!” You glance at the man at the poker table. He’s running a poker chip across his knuckles mindlessly. Then he looks up and you briefly make eye contact before you quickly look away. Holly is staring at you and she looks worried. But the name still doesn’t mean anything to you, so you shake your head and shrug. She groans as quietly as she can. “He’s Barber’s top enforcer!”
This whole conversation feels so out of the blue that it takes you a minute to catch up. Barber. Andrew Barber. The most feared mob boss in the city. Probably the state. Maybe even more. Ruthless and exacting was how the papers described him. He’d been the subject of multiple stings and taskforces and whathaveyou but nothing ever stuck. “He works for Andrew Barber?” you ask, shocked and a little appalled.
Holly stares at you in a way that you can only describe as dumbfounded. It takes her a few moments to find her words, then, “Bitch, you work for Andrew Barber!”
Everything stops. “What?” you gasp.
“Oh my god,” Holly groans. “This was such a mistake. It’s an underground card game in his city! Who did you think was running things?”
“I– I don’t know,” you stutter, stupidly. The god’s honest truth is that you’d never really stopped to think about it. You’d been staring down an eviction, struggling to afford groceries. Unable to make ends meet no matter what you did. When Holly told you about this job, all you saw were dollar signs. You didn't think about anything further. Of course, you’d known these games were illegal, but it seemed so minor in the grand scheme of things. You hadn’t connected it to anything bigger because you just hadn’t wanted to.
But now– Now that you know the truth, what are you going to do? You know what you should do. You should walk out the door right now. You should find some other legitimate way to pay your bills. It’ll be safer. It’ll be better. It’ll be so much harder.
As you bite your lip, trying to process all of this information, Holly continues. “Listen,” she says, “still get him drinks, be friendly, whatever you need to do. But keep your distance however you can. Don't encourage him. He's just– He's really dangerous. They don't call him Barber’s attack dog for nothing, ok?”
“Yeah,” you say. You start to look back in Curtis’s direction but stop yourself. You think about the hundred you already have and the one promised to you at the end of the night. You think of how empty your pantry is. But then you see the genuine fear in Holly's eyes. You let out a shaky breath. “Yeah. I got it. Thanks.”
“He doesn't even come in here that often. I'm surprised to see him tonight, so I'm sure it’ll be fine,” she says, but you can tell she’s nervous.
You nod, absently, finally letting yourself glance over at him. His drink is getting close to the bottom. “Shit,” you mumble. “I gotta get him his refill.”
“Do you want me to do it?” Holly asks. 
You should let her do it. You absolutely should. But you just can’t give up on that tip. You shake your head. “No, I’ll be fine. But thanks.”
You head back to the bar and grab Curtis’s top-shelf whiskey of choice from Colin, then make your way to his table. You set it down next to him, hoping to move away without him even noticing, he’s so engrossed in the game. But as you take a step back, his hand shoots out to grab your wrist. He holds it tightly until you meet his eyes. “Good girl,” he murmurs, and you can’t help the sharp intake of breath or the way you feel his words in your knees. He strokes his thumb down the inside of your wrist, then abruptly lets go, pushing his chips to the middle of the table. You step away, gathering yourself as subtly as you can, and get back to work.
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The rest of the night goes quickly. The crowd gets a little rowdier as they drink more, but you find that it’s nothing you can’t handle. The reality of who these people are, what they’re connected to, never leaves your mind. But really, they’re not so bad. None of this feels so bad at all. And soon, people start heading out. You’re beginning to clean up, when a recognizable voice rings out, “Bambi!” You turn and lock eyes with Curtis. He crooks two fingers at you and you quickly make your way over to him.
“Bambi?” you ask.
He grins at you and it feels more than a little predatory. You’ll never admit how much you like it. You try to keep Holly’s warning at the forefront of your mind. “Wide eyes and just getting your legs under you,” he says. You instinctively duck your head at that, which earns a dark chuckle. “Here,” he continues, as he pulls a genuine, fat money clip out of his back pocket. You’ve never seen something like it in real life before. He peels off two bills and holds them out to you. “This is what good girls get,” he says, a low rumble in his voice.
You swallow as you take them from him. Two hundred dollars. Twice what you were expecting. “Thank you,” you say quietly. 
He shakes his head. “You earned it.” Then, after one last long look at you, he turns around and leaves.
You stand and stare after him. You don’t doubt anything Holly said, but three hundred dollars, just for bringing him drinks. He doesn’t seem that bad, not really. A little intense maybe, but there’s some sort of interest there, and it can’t be that bad to encourage it, just a little if it earns you these sorts of tips, can it??
Any hesitance you have about this entire endeavor completely disappears as you count your money at the end of the night.
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Your first week flies by. You're starting to get the hang of the job. You get along with your coworkers. You get to know the regulars. You like it. Even Lloyd isn’t so bad as long as you give him his cut at the end of every night.
And you’re making so much money.
In your downtime, you pay your landlord what you owe him. You go grocery shopping without scouring for coupons first or calculating exactly what you can afford beforehand. You make a Pinterest board of what you want your apartment to look like now that you might actually be able to buy things to fill it. For the very first time, you’re thinking about things you actually want, not just desperately trying to figure out how you’ll pay your bills. You’ve never felt this calm, this relaxed, this free before. It’s an incredible feeling.
And Curtis. Despite Holly’s reassurances that you wouldn’t see him much, he seems to be there whenever you are, trying to capitalize on his winning streak at the poker tables, you assume. His tips are still insanely generous. You don’t think he carries anything less than hundred dollar bills. 
And there’s just something about him. The way he looks at you. The way he touches you. It’s not like the other men here. His touch is like fire, warming from the inside. There’ve been times when his hand on your hip has almost made your knees buckle. That doesn’t happen with anyone else here.
But you’re being smart and you’re being safe. You are. You’re going to set a savings goal, you think. And once you hit that number, you’ll be out of here, onto something more legitimate. And until then, you’ll just keep your head down and mouth shut, like Holly said. You haven’t even really seen anything. It’s a good plan. It’ll be fine.
She’s right that the weekends are wilder. Even with three additional girls working the room, you’re kept running. You do your best to keep an eye on Curtis’s drinks, but it’s much harder than on weeknights. And you aren’t really able to pause when you drop them off. It’s one of these times, as you’re pulling away from the table as soon as you’ve set his glass down, that you’re stopped short by his hand on you. He pulls you back in by the wrist and says, “They’re just running you ragged tonight, huh, Bambi?”
You smile and shrug. “It’s busy.”
He holds out a bill and you try not to smile even wider as he slips it into the waistband of your skirt. “For all your hard work.”
You bat your lashes a little. “You spoil me.”
“I like spoiling you,” he says, lowly. 
“You’re too sweet,” you say softly. Then, pulling your arm away with a wink, you add, “Gotta run,” and you’re onto the next table.
You’re getting good at this, figuring out what level of harmless flirting is just enough to keep the money flowing. And you’re having fun. You’d never expected that.
Holly and two of the other girls, Jane and Kristi, are congregated at the end of the bar, waiting for drinks, when you join them. They’re all watching you warily. “So, uh,” Jane starts quietly, “you seem to be getting pretty cozy with Curtis.” 
Before you can respond, Holly scoffs behind her. “I’ve tried to warn her but she won’t fucking listen.”
You roll your eyes. You’re tired of hearing this. “I seriously don’t get what the big deal is. He’s nice and he tips well. It’s harmless!”
Kristi just gapes at you. “He’s nice?!”
Holly slams the drinks she was waiting for onto her tray. “Whatever,” she grumbles. “It’s her fucking funeral.”
You shake your head as you watch her go. It’s fine. You can take care of yourself.
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The rest of the night goes by in a blur. You don’t get much of a chance to talk to Curtis, but you feel his eyes on you before he disappears a little before closing.
At the end of the night, once you’ve helped clean up, you cash out with Colin and Jake and then go to find Lloyd in his office. You think it’s kind of ridiculous that you’re basically paying him to work there, but it is what it is. And Holly was right, you’re making so much that you barely even notice. 
Lloyd is sitting at his desk, looking a little more disheveled than you’re used to. He startles at your approach, which is also new. 
“Oh, hey,” he says, with slightly rounded eyes. “What can I do for you?”
You look at him, a little confused. “Just here with your cut,” you say as you hold out his money.
His hands immediately fly up to his chest, palms out. “No, no,” he says. “You made that fair and square. You just– you keep what you make from now on, Cupcake. Sound good?”
You swallow and nod, preparing yourself for whatever other price you’ll have to pay for keeping your job, mentally calculating what you’re willing to do. But Lloyd doesn’t do anything, doesn’t make any move to get closer to you. Just stays there at his desk, turning back to his work. “You have a good night,” he says, clearly dismissing you. 
You leave confused, but richer, telling yourself not to question it too hard.
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Things go so smoothly for a few weeks that you’re a little shocked when the bubble bursts. 
It’s a relatively quiet weeknight. There are a few games going, but nothing compared to the weekend. The pace of the night feels leisurely. It’s nice.
It’s maybe the first night you haven’t seen Curtis there. It feels weird. He’s become such a part of this place for you. A fixture, like the bar or the carpet. Just one of the elements that make it what it is. But it’s fine. Of course, he doesn’t come every night. He probably has a whole life outside of this. He must’ve gotten bored of playing cards. Oh well. It was nice while it lasted.
You’re passing the time talking to one of the regulars at the bar, Vinny. He’s in his fifties, you think, with gray hair and laugh lines. He’d gone bust at the poker table (or maybe it was craps tonight) earlier and then had moved to the bar to drink away his sorrows and bad luck. That was how his nights tended to go.
He’s sitting on a barstool, his arm around your waist where you stand next to him. He’s a little close for comfort, but he’s always just been a friendly guy, so you’re alright. Which is why you’re so surprised when, in the middle of a story about the good old days of the Copa Cabana, his other hand suddenly finds its way between your thighs. You freeze. For just a second. Then you force out a laugh and try to push his hand away. “Bad boy,” you try to tease, your voice shaking. His hand will not move. What is happening? “Come on, let’s keep our hands to ourselves.”
Instead of doing what you’ve asked, his thumb briefly brushes the inside of your leg and then his whole hand begins moving higher. You stop breathing. You push again but he won’t budge.
“You’re such a pretty doll, aren’tcha?” he says. 
Tears start to gather in your eyes. You look around wildly to see if anyone’s noticing what’s happening. Colin’s busy making drinks. Jake and Lloyd are talking by the door. Everyone else is engrossed in their own business. “Vinnie, stop, please,” you whisper. You don’t know why you can’t get your voice to work, can’t get your body to move.
“Come on,” he cajoles, “I’m being nice, aren’t I?” 
Then his thumb brushes against your panties and your entire body jolts into action. You wrench your leg out of his grasp and take several steps away from him. Your whole body is shaking now. “I gotta–” you start, trying to keep your tone casual and failing miserably. “I gotta get back to work, Vinny.” Then you grab your tray off the bartop and walk away as fast as you can.
You don’t really have a destination in mind. You pick up a few empties as you wander between tables. You can feel his eyes on you, following you. You try to take a deep breath, calm yourself down. It isn’t very helpful. You look up to see Jake by himself now. You make your way over to him, Holly’s words on your first night in your ears. That was out of hand, wasn’t it?
He looks up as you approach. His big golden retriever smile on his face. “Hey, what’s up?” Then he actually takes you in and his smile drops. “What happened?”
“Um, Vinny, he, uh–” You feel a few tears fall down your cheeks and you just shake your head.
Jake’s face darkens. “Did he hurt you?” 
“No, uh, he– he just–” You shake your head again. “No, he didn’t hurt me.”
Jake doesn’t say anything for a moment, just looks at you. There’s something about the way he does it that makes you think he understands everything you just can’t say. He nods once. “Alright. I’ll take care of it. You go take your time in the back. Do what you need to do. He’ll be gone by the time you’re done.”
You let out a shaky breath. “Okay, thank you,” you say so quietly. Then you get yourself to the back room as quickly as you can.
It’s really more of a hallway than a room, small and narrow. All of the storage space for the building is in the legitimate bar upstairs. But there’s enough room for you to crouch down, your knees pulled up tight to your chin. You bury your face in your thighs and let the tears you’ve been holding in finally fall. You’re okay. You’re okay. You’re safe. You’re fine. 
You don’t know how long you’ve spent trying to calm yourself down when a large shadow suddenly looms over you. It takes you a moment to gather your strength to find out who it is. You hope it’s Jake telling you Vinny’s gone. You’re afraid it might be Lloyd, here to tell you to get back to work. There’s a slowly building terror that it might be Vinny himself.
After a deep breath, you look up to find Curtis staring down at you, concern on his face and fiery anger in his eyes. “What happened?” he growls.
You shake your head and turn away. He crouches down in front of you. “Are you alright?”
A humorless, uncontrolled laugh escapes you. Once you finally stop, you ignore his question and ask your own, “Why are you here?”
It takes him a very long time to answer. He just looks at you seriously for several moments. Then, finally, “Jake called me.” While you try to figure out why on earth Jake would do that, he continues, “I'm sorry I wasn’t already here.”
“Why?” you blurt out without thinking. 
He looks away without saying anything. You both just sit in the silence for a few moments. Then, you try to change tactics. “Where were you?” you ask out of morbid curiosity. You can't imagine what his life is like outside of here.
“Working,” he says curtly. He plays with a ring on his middle finger and the movement draws your eyes to his hands, specifically his knuckles. They're scraped and caked with dried blood. 
You swallow and you catch how his eyes track the movement. His eyes are always on you. He catches everything. 
“Someone touched you?”
“Lots of people touch me,” you say, flatly. “It's part of the job. You touch me.”
His eyes narrow at that. “But this was different.” It isn’t a question.
You look down at your hands in your lap and don't say anything. 
“Tell me who it was.”
“No,” you say instinctively, something about the moment feeling incredibly dangerous. 
He huffs in frustration. “Are you trying to protect him?”
“No!” you say, sharply. “I’m protecting myself.”
“You don’t have to do that. Not from me. Not ever.”
You don’t know how to tell him that every atom in you knows that that isn’t true. You can’t explain it, and it wasn’t until the moment he joined you in this little closet, but you’d swear that he’s a danger to you. You just can't articulate how, but you feel it in your bones. And still, here you stay.
At your silence, he grits out, “If you don’t tell me who it was, Jake will.”
Jake probably already has, that’s what you’ve figured. “Great,” you say. “Then you don’t need me to say it.”
“Bambi,” he lets out in an exasperated growl. “I'm trying to help you.” 
You just look at him and then figure you may as well ask the main question that's on your mind. “Why did Jake call you?” 
He ignores you and stands up. “Come on,” he says and extends his hand, “I'm taking you home.”
You just blink up at him. “My shift isn't over.” 
He shakes his hand at you impatiently. “It is now. Come on.”
You shake your head. “Curtis, this is my job. I can't just– Lloyd will–”
“I'll take care of Lloyd. Let’s go.”
You think about going home. About sitting alone in your small apartment. At least here you'll have something to do, things to focus on, to keep you busy. At home, there'll be nothing to think about other than that hand between your legs and– “No,” you say as firmly as you can manage. “I'm staying here. I'm finishing the night.”
His jaw ticks but he doesn’t say anything, just tries to stare you down. You stare right back. You will not concede this. 
Finally, he exhales through his nostrils, then growls out an unhappy “Fine. But I'll–” He's interrupted by his phone ringing in his pocket. He takes it out and glances at the caller ID and sighs. “I have to take this.” He steps away as much as he can in the tiny area and answers with a curt “Everett.” There's a slight pause. “Yeah, I took care of it.” Another pause that has him glancing at you. “No, something else came up.”
You don't wait to hear the rest of the conversation. You take the opportunity to go back to the main room and get back to work. 
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You don't see Curtis again that night. You don't spare much thought to where he might've gone. You're too focused on getting through the remainder of your shift. When it's done, Jake insists on seeing you home. You don't ask why. You already know who's behind it.
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The next few days are fine. You try to put what happened behind you, doing your best to ignore it. But that becomes impossible when three days after the incident you watch Vinny walk in. You can’t help the little burst of panic you feel as you warily watch him sit down at his usual table and get dealt in. 
As subtly as you can, you make your way over to Jake. You don’t even say anything before he’s looking at you, chagrined. “I know,” he says. “I’m sorry, but I had to let him in. I promise it’s all going to be taken care of. It’s just– You can ignore him tonight, ok? Just trust me. You don’t need to worry about him. I promise.”
“Ok,” you say reluctantly, trying to resist looking back at Vinny. “I just– I didn’t think I’d have to see him again.”
“I really think that after tonight you won’t,” he says sincerely.
You don’t really understand what that means, but you nod anyway. “Ok,” you say. “I, uh, I should get back to work then.” 
He just nods after you, looking a little concerned and a little sad. But the room is filling up, so you don’t have time to delve into it.
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Sometime later, as you’re taking a brief moment to idle by the bar, a strange hush descends over the room. You’re facing away from the door, away from the rest of the room, but you see Colin take in whatever it is that’s caused this. His face pales and he lets out a quiet, urgent, “Shit.” 
You turn around to see what on earth could be going on and you immediately freeze. Curtis is here. But that’s not what’s garnering all of this attention. Well, not all. Because he’s not alone, there’s a man with him. A little shorter, not quite as broad. But you’d be able to feel the power radiating off of him, even if you didn’t recognize him. Soft dark hair, thick beard, an immaculately tailored suit. You’ve seen him in the papers, on the news, but in real life, he’s even more intimidating. Andrew Barber.
Barber leans in close to say something to Curtis, who nods, eyes scanning the room until they land on you. Your breath catches, but luckily Colin calls your name behind you and you have an excuse to turn around. He places two glasses of dark liquor on the bar. “Everett,” he says, gesturing to one, then “Barber,” while waving his hand over the other. “Got it?” You nod and place them on your tray. They’re identical to your eyes except for the fact that Barber's has a muddled black cherry at the bottom of the glass.
You carefully bring them over, trying to force yourself to breathe. Curtis intercepts you and grabs the drinks when you're a few steps away. “Thank you, Bambi,” he says, lowly. 
Barber perks up. “This is Bambi? Really?” He extends a hand and you have no choice but to take it. “Andy Barber,” he says with a disarming smile. “It's a pleasure to meet you finally.”
His handshake is firm, demanding. He is terrifying in his friendliness. And he knows who you are. Has known, for who knows how long. You glance at Curtis, but he's just calmly drinking his whiskey. You don't know what to say, what are you supposed to say?? So after too long a pause, you practically whisper, “Thank you, Mr. Barber.”
He chuckles lightly as he takes back his hand. To Curtis, he says, “You're right, Bambi does suit her.” Then he turns back to you and adds, “Andy, please.”
“O– Okay, Andy,” you say, with what you desperately hope is a benign smile. You look over at Curtis, you’re not entirely sure why, but out of these two dangerous options, he, at least, is familiar. “I should get back to work.”
Curtis is staring at you, but it’s Andy who answers. “Mmm, and we have a game to join, don’t we?” Curtis nods but still doesn’t break his gaze. Andy smirks, “No rest for the wicked.”
You have no idea what to do with that sentiment, so you take the opportunity and get out of there. You walk through the tables, checking to see if anyone needs anything, but the mob boss’s physical presence seems to have ground all action to a halt. The room is collectively holding its breath. 
You go back to the bar for want of anything else to do. Colin is standing ramrod straight, coiled in case he needs to spring into action. Lloyd is sitting down at the end of the bar, drumming his fingers, eyes moving all around the room. You settle next to Holly, who looks just as scared as she did that first night when she was trying to warn you off of Curtis. “Is this,” you start to ask, your voice shaking. “Is this normal? Does he come here a lot?”
“No, never” she shakes her head. “Why would he come here? He has real clubs and restaurants. He doesn’t need to hang out in a shit hole like this.” She shakes her head again. “He’d only come here for a reason.”
You turn your head back to the room and find that Andy and Curtis have settled at Vinny’s table, joining his game across from him. Your heart lands in your throat. That can’t– No. You’re just some cocktail waitress. Even with Curtis’s obvious interest in you, you aren’t important enough to bring the most powerful man in the city here. You’re nothing. He must have other reasons.
The room is quiet enough to hear a pin drop as everyone waits for something to happen, which is why when Andy does start speaking, you don’t have to strain your ears to pick up every word.
He looks at his cards carefully, then over at Vinny. “You know, Vinny, you’re a hard man to track down.” His voice is so calm, it sends a chill up your spine. “You don’t go home, we can’t find you at work. I was starting to get worried.” He runs a few chips through his fingers before tossing them into the center of the felt. “That’s why, when I heard you were showing up here, I sent my best man to investigate,” he nods towards Curtis, “just to make sure you were ok.” 
You don’t have a great view of Vinny from where you’re standing, but you can see how stiff he is, how silent. But he still calls when it’s his turn.
“You can imagine my relief when I found out you were alright. Except,” he raises again, a few more chips into the pot, “you’re losing a lot of money, aren’t you? Now, this upsets me. Not because you’re losing your own money. But because it’s mine, isn’t it?”
Vinny finally tries to pipe up. “Andy, hold on. I can ex–”
“You owe me $150,000, Vinny. With interest, that total’s climbing every day. And yet, you sit here and you just keep losing, don’t you? At my own game. What would you do if you won, huh? Would you really try paying me back with my own money? I thought maybe you’d at least have the smarts to cross the border and try this at one of Roger’s casinos. Huh? Paying me back with my enemy’s money, at least that I could respect. But no, it’s only me you think is stupid enough to fall for your bullshit. So now I’m here to give you the chance to fucking do it to my face.” With that, he violently pushes all of his chips into the center of the table. 
Everyone else has folded. It’s just Barber and Vinny now. You’re not sure Curtis even actually played. He’s just staring Vinny down, although occasionally his eyes will flick up and meet yours. You hate feeling like you’re a part of this, but you don’t know what else to do besides watch it play out.
Vinny is just spluttering, while Andy calmly looks on. It’s all the expected, cliche stuff you’ve seen in gangster movies. He’s got the money, he swears. He just needs a little more time. Andy has to know he’s good for it! You want to roll your eyes right along with Andy.
“Call, Vinny,” Andy cuts him off, sternly. “That’s $150,000 I just put in the pot. Call. And if you win, we’re even. Your debt’s erased. But if you lose, well then that’s $300,000 you’ll owe me. And you know I won’t be able to tolerate that. So call. And let’s find out where we stand.”
You can’t see what Vinny’s doing, but you can imagine the way his fingers must be hovering over his chips, his eyes moving down to his cards to check, one more time, if they’re as good or bad as he remembers. You know there’s no way out for him either way. He’ll have to call. He’s just delaying the inevitable.
You feel like you can't breathe as you wait for him to just finally do it, but Andy cuts in again. “The thing I can't understand, Vinny, is why you kept coming here after Curtis showed up. Either you're very stupid or really fucking greedy.” He looks at Vinny carefully. “Maybe a little of both. I hear you've been touching something that doesn't belong to you.”
You gasp. No one notices, but you do. He can't be talking about you. He can't. He can't. 
Vinny seems even more confused than you. “What are you talking about? I haven't touched anything!”
Andy continues to ignore him. “So you're stupid and greedy. That's why you aren't afraid of him like you should be. They call him my attack dog, did you know? Have you heard that? Maybe that’s the problem. Maybe you think he’s some puppy that follows me around. You’d be stupid to underestimate him, underestimate me. But maybe you only do that because you've never seen my dog off his leash.”
Curtis springs into action, lunging across the table to grab Vinny by the collar, and then slams his head into the felt. Before there’s even time to react, he’s stood and he's picking Vinny back up and hurling him onto the floor. Curtis comes around the table to stalk after him and the look on his face has you gasping for breath. You've never seen Curtis like this. There's a glint in his eye that might be the scariest thing you've ever seen. Who is this man? What is he capable of?
Vinny is dazedly trying to crawl away, but Curtis catches him easily. He grabs Vinny’s collar and hauls him back up, delivering two punches to his face in quick succession. The sound it makes. There's no other sound in the whole room. No one's saying anything, no one's doing anything. Everyone's just watching, hypnotized. You turn away, your stomach churning. Your eyes catch on Andy, sitting back in his chair, placidly drinking the whiskey you brought him, completely relaxed, like he's watching anything else. You can't look at him either. 
The room is completely silent except for the crunching of bones, Vinny’s whimpers, and Curtis’s grunts. You look up again to be startled by eye contact with Curtis. His eyes are wild, unhinged. Feral. But there's something else in it, like all of this is for you. That all of you are there, everything is happening, because Vinny dared to touch you. It takes your breath away. It’s mesmerizing.
Andy finally stands and strides over to where Curtis is holding Vinny up in the middle of the room. He looks down at Vinny, then spits in his face. “I'm tired of trying to draw blood from a stone,” he says. Then he turns to Curtis and finishes, “Get rid of him.”
Curtis gives you one last long look, his face unreadable. You feel it in your knees. Then he drags Vinny out, leaving a bloody trail behind him.
The moment they're gone, it's like the entire room can breathe again. “Lloyd,” Andy calls out. “How ‘bout a round for everyone? On me.”
Lloyd nods to Colin who hurriedly starts pouring drinks. And you, so grateful for something to do, instead of just standing there, shaking, start loading the glasses on your tray.
As you begin to pass them out, Andy of all people, pulls you aside. “Bambi,” he says quietly, “I hope you know now, we take care of our own.”
You gaze at him, shocked. It feels like a comfort and a threat. But why? It's not so much the implication that this all had something to do with you, but you can't for the life of you imagine what you've done to get yourself to a place where Andy Barber might consider you his, however distantly. It can't just be that you work here. You can't picture him doing something similar for Holly or Colin. Once again, this all feels so incredibly dangerous. 
While you're struggling to come up with anything to say to that, he grabs a drink off your tray and downs it quickly. Then, with a wink, he turns and leaves. You’re left staring after him until someone calls after you and you're scrambling to pass out drinks again. 
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The night ends quickly. No one seems eager to stay and drink and play after everything that's happened. Not when there's still blood on the floor.
You do what you can to help clean up, but when you stare at the stain helplessly, Lloyd tells you not to worry about it. He's got a guy.
Colin walks out with you so you aren’t in the parking lot alone. You're grateful. You're still so shaken. As you approach your car, your beater that you still don’t quite have the money to replace, you see someone leaning against it. You stop short, looking to Colin for help, but he just keeps walking to his own car, his head down. That’s when you know it’s Curtis. 
You take a deep breath and then force yourself to keep walking towards him. You can't begin to parse how you feel to see him now. Your keys are ready in your hand like you might just get in and drive off without speaking to him. You know you won’t.
When you reach him, his voice is rough as he asks, “Are you ok?” He’s cleaned up. There’s no more blood on his hands, his clothes have been straightened.
You open your mouth to answer, even though you have no idea, so instead what comes out is “Did you kill him?”
“Did you want me to?” is his immediate reply.
It stops you in your tracks as all sorts of feelings come bubbling up, ones you can not, will not examine. This is about his propensity for violence, how terrifying he became, not– No. “Did you?” you insist. 
He looks at you carefully then shakes his head. “I don't think you actually want me to answer that.”
“But you've killed before?” You can't stop yourself from pressing, from pushing. You don’t know why. 
He just sort of smiles, gently almost, in a way that is deeply unsettling. “You need to stop asking questions you aren’t ready for me to answer, Bambi.” And it’s the way he says the nickname, like you really are that babe in the woods, just born with no knowledge of the world around you, that has your hackles rising.
“Andy called you his dog,” you say, like he should be offended.
To your surprise, he laughs, his head thrown back. Then he takes a step closer to you, and you take the opportunity to sneak in behind him, get to your car. You realize your mistake immediately when he turns back around and cages you in, your back pressed against the driver’s side door. “Everyone calls me his dog. Because he’s the civilized man in the designer suit, and I’m the animal just begging for a reason to slip my leash.”
Your heart pounds wildly in your chest. You should get into your car. You should drive away as fast as you can. You should never come back. But you don’t. “You did it for him,” you say, mustering all the strength into your voice that you can. “You didn’t do it for me.”
He leans over you, the space between you shrinking rapidly. “Yeah, he asked me to do it,” he nods. “But if he hadn’t, I still would have done it. For you.”
 You try to shake your head, to tell him that that can’t be true, even as a wild, loud part of you starts to rise up and claw out of your chest. You try to tamp it down, deny it, but before you can, Curtis is leaning in further, his whole body pressing against you, and then he covers your lips with his.  
There’s a heat that comes up out of him that fills you, the instant his skin touches yours. His hands are on you, your neck, your hip. You can’t keep track, can only say that his hands are there, everywhere, that his body touches all of yours, that his lips and his tongue are demanding, unrelenting. You are burning up from the inside.
Too soon, but ages later, he pulls away. His eyes are on fire as he looks at you. Then he tears his gaze away, and hits the roof of your decrepit car twice, looking at it disdainfully. “You get home safe,” he says, then steps back to allow you the space you need to get into your car.
You do what he wants you to do. You get in your car, sit in the driver’s seat, and then stare blankly out the windshield. You’ve never felt so out of control in your life. How did this happen? You were flirting for tips, that was all! You encouraged it for money, that was it, and now– You press your thighs together, trying not to pant. You will not be unmoored. 
A slight movement in your periphery makes you notice that Curtis is still standing just to the side of your car, watching you. You turn your keys in the ignition and shift into drive.
It doesn’t mean anything it doesn’t mean anything it doesn’t mean anything, you chant to yourself all the way home.
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It’s your next shift back, and everything seems to have changed. You don’t understand it. You keep doing laps of the room, keep sidling up to regulars you were so friendly with just a few nights ago, but now, they won’t even look at you, let alone touch you. No one’s ordering anything.
Or at least, they aren’t ordering from you.
Holly has been running around nonstop all night, basically having to take care of the entire room by herself. You watch man after man after man slip her little bundles of money. 
You want to scream. What the fuck happened? What did you do? What are you going to do?
You go to stand by the bar to wait for something you can do. Colin gives you a brief nod of acknowledgment but that’s it. He’s been cold, too. No. Not cold, distant. You don’t understand what’s changed.
You take a deep breath. It’s one weird night. Things will be better tomorrow.
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Things don’t get better. The next night is the same. You’re starting to panic. This job was supposed to be your lifeline. Without it, without the money you were making, you’re not sure how you’ll survive.
Curtis comes in after a couple of hours of nothing. You could cry you’re so happy to see him. But terrified too. If he gives you the cold shoulder, this job really is over. But you have no idea how he’s going to act, not after what happened last time. You’re not sure how you’re going to act either. You can still feel his lips on yours.
You bring him his whiskey immediately and he greets you with an arm around your waist, pulling you in. “Hey Bambi,” he says quietly. Then he gets a good look at you. “What’s wrong?” 
You look at him carefully, not sure what to confide. You aren’t even sure what the problem is. You shake your head. “Not my best night,” you say with a tired smile. “But I’m fine.”
He stares at you for a moment, then stands up. “Come on,” he says, grabbing your hand and leading you to the little back room. You feel eyes on the two of you the whole way there.
Once he’s closed the door behind you both, he asks again, “What’s wrong?”
You sigh. “The last two nights have been weird here. I don’t– I don’t know. I’m just worried. I don’t know what happened but I’m not making any tips. No one’s treating me like they used to.”
“Mmm,” Curtis hums thoughtfully. “I think,” he says as he takes two steps closer to you, which in this small space is significant, “everyone else here has figured it out.”
It’s suddenly a little hard to breathe with him standing over you like this. His presence, his attention is always so much. “Figured what out?” you ask, confused.
“That I have lost my patience for watching other men touch you.” 
It hits you like a freight train. “What?” It comes out in a whisper.
“I’ve let this go on for too long,” he says, his voice is calm, casual. “I don’t want you working here anymore. This is done.”
“I– What? Curtis. What?! I have to work! I have to pay my bills! I don’t understand. I don’t–”
He takes one last step forward. You feel the heat coming off of him. “Shh,” he soothes, cradling your cheek in his hand. “It’ll be alright. I’ll take care of you. I take care of what’s mine.”
You pull your face away, even as the urge to nuzzle into him is so strong. You feel like you’ve missed something, a thousand things. You feel too many steps behind. “Curtis, I’m not– I’m not yours.”
Something comes into his eyes and you’re reminded of him standing over Vinny, covered in blood. His hand travels down from your cheek. He strokes your throat once, and then his hand closes around it. “Look me in the eye,” he growls, “and say that again.”
His hand is firm, snug, but it doesn’t tighten. But you can imagine so easily how it might. You look him in the eye. You open your mouth, ready to say it again. But then– then you see it. In the way he looks at you, the way he’s always looked at you. You feel it in his grip on you, now. You can’t deny it anymore. 
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Curtis shoves you into his bedroom. You’re panting already. You need his hands on you, right now. You don’t have to ask for it. He gets you to the center of the room and yanks down your skirt, tearing it in the process. You step out of it and take your blouse off, throwing it on top of your skirt. Curtis’s eyes are cataloging your body, the swell of your breasts spilling out of your bra, your soft tummy, thick thighs. His gaze, as always, takes your breath away.
You reach out for Curtis’s shirt, but he grabs your hands. “I want you on your knees,” he growls and you immediately kneel for him. He throws off his shirt, revealing the expanse of his chest, the muted blacks and grays of his tattoos. You’re desperate to run your hands over them, trace the art, but instead, they just twitch at your side. He'll tell you what you're allowed to do.
He begins unbuttoning his jeans and your mouth drops open. He chuckles darkly. “Perfect little slut.” He takes his phone out of his back pocket and aims it at you, taking a picture as you gaze up at him under your lashes, your mouth wide open. “I've been dreaming of getting you on your knees for me.” He puts his phone on his dresser, then continues taking off his pants. “You ready to choke on my cock, baby?”
“Please,” you whine. You're practically salivating now. His bare thighs are as thick as tree trunks, the muscles corded. His abs ripple as he moves. His shoulders, his back. You want.
He frees his cock and rolls his black boxer briefs down his legs, stepping out of them. It's long and thick, just like the rest of him. Your breath catches. You don't think you've ever taken something that big before.
He takes a few steps so he's completely in your space, his cock bobbing right in front of your face. He takes it in one hand, the other firmly on the back of your head and slowly feeds the tip into your mouth. You taste his musk on your tongue. As he rocks into your mouth, going a little further each time, your hands come up to grasp his thighs. On his next thrust in, you run your tongue along the underside of his dick. His movements stutter just a little and then he looks down at you, a smirk overtaking his face. It's just a touch mean, in a way that has you soaking your panties. “You ready?” he asks, his voice rough. And then without waiting for the answer, he thrusts in all the way, making you take him deep in your throat.
You flail, slapping his thigh as you try to swallow around him, breathing frantically through your nose. After holding you there for a moment, he sets a brutal but steady pace. It takes you a moment, but you find your rhythm, your panic subsiding. Once you feel steady, you lift one hand from his thighs and bring it up to cradle his balls. “Fuck, Bambi,” he grinds out. “You're gonna– I– fuck!” His hand moves from the back of your head down to the back of your neck, which he grips firmly, pulling you off his cock. As you cough and splutter on the floor, he growls, “The first time you make me come is gonna be inside that perfect cunt.”
He helps you stand on wobbly legs, then shoves his hand between your legs, cupping your pussy over your panties. “Shit, fucking soaked just from deepthroating me?”
You let out a needy little whine, trying to push further into his hand, but he withdraws it, instead settling on your hip. “Well,” he grins, “if they’re ruined anyway…” then uses that hand to rip the black lace down the side, letting them fall to the floor. He makes quick work of your bra as well, then takes a step back and sighs, “Shit, Bambi, look at you.” It’s the reverence in his voice and on his face that has you launching yourself at him, unable to keep from kissing him any longer. He lets you, quickly taking control, letting you feel all his hunger, the want he’s kept barely bottled up since he first laid eyes on you. You understand it all now. His erection brushes against you, and now it’s his turn to whine, just a little. 
He pulls away, brushing a hand down your cheek, then says “Get on the bed, on your stomach.” You quickly comply, laying in the center of the bed with your knees pulled up and spread beneath you. He brings his hand down on one asscheek harshly and you can’t help the lewd moan that escapes you. He chuckles, “Oh, I will definitely remember that for later.” He grabs your hips and cants them up, then whistles at your exposed cunt. “I knew it. Absolutely beautiful.” Then he unceremoniously shoves two fingers into your hole and you choke on nothing. “Shh,” he coos. “You can take it. My cock’s gonna be a lot thicker.” 
As he starts scissoring his fingers inside you, you can’t hold it in any longer and start babbling. Mostly a combination of “please,” and “Curtis,” and “I need,” over and over.
“I know, baby,” he says as he pulls his fingers out of you. “I’ve got what you need right here.” You have a brief moment to feel the tip of his cock on your pussy lips before he’s thrusting it into you, as far as he can go without making it hurt. 
“Oh my god,” you cry, pressing your forehead into the mattress and balling his dark blue sheets in your hands. You feel so full. It’s so good. He’s working himself into you as quickly as he can, desperate now. You both are. Once he bottoms out, fully seated in you, he pauses. Then with one hand on your stomach and the other around your neck, he pulls you up onto your knees, your back flush to his chest. You cry out at the new angle; he’s somehow even deeper now. He starts thrusting up into you at a punishing pace. You’re bouncing up and down in his firm grasp. The hand on your neck turns your head to face him, his lips brushing against yours. He holds eye contact with you as the hand on your stomach snakes down your pelvis so his thick fingers can begin circling your clit. “Fuck! Curtis, please!” you shout. 
“Yeah, come on,” he breathes, “you can let go. You can do it. Come for me like a good girl.” It’s those words that send you careening over the edge, your cunt pulsing around his cock, squeezing him until he’s coming too with a grunt, filling you up until both your cum is leaking out around him. 
He holds you there, on your knees, as you both come down, your twin pants all you can hear.
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You wake up slowly, the sun shining on you through the soft drapes. You start to shift then groan at how stiff you are. The night before comes back to you. Curtis took you two more times before you both collapsed in satisfied exhaustion. He’s still out like a light beneath you. 
You take a moment to look at him. It’s odd to see him so peaceful, so still. There’s nothing of the feral predator he projects to the world. It makes you feel oddly close to him, seeing him like this.
You carefully get up without disturbing him and begin collecting your clothes. You put on your bra, but there’s no saving your panties. Same for your skirt; it’s ripped along the seam. So instead you pick up Curtis’s t-shirt from last night and put it on. It smells like him. You breathe it in shamelessly knowing there’s no one to witness it.
You savor the soreness as you move out of the bedroom. It’s like you can still feel him inside you, how much he wanted you, needed you. It makes you feel a little powerful, having that effect on a man like him.
You make your way into his living room. You didn’t really have a chance to look at his house last night, as determined as he was to get you into the bedroom. If you’d ever thought to picture it, this wouldn’t be far off. It’s all rich blues and greens and grays, leather and dark wood. Masculine. It suits him. 
As you’re admiring the room, you hear footsteps behind you and then two big arms are encircling your waist, pulling you into him. “Good morning,” he rasps. 
You turn your head to him. “Good morning,” you say with a smile.
“Fuck, Bambi, you’re even hotter in my shirt than you were last night.”
You smirk at him even as your face heats. “Mmm,” you hum. “It’s comfy. You might not get it back.” He nuzzles into your neck as you continue. “I was hoping you might have something I could wear for bottoms, too. You destroyed my skirt.”
His beard roughly drags against your skin as he asks, “Why the hell would I let you wear bottoms?”
You laugh. “Because I have to leave the house, Curtis.”
“No, you don’t,” he says as his hand begins to move between your thighs.
You playfully swat him away, even as you feel yourself getting wet again from his attention. “I have to go home.”
“Why? You’re staying here.” It’s how certain he sounds that has you turning around in his arms.
“What?”
“I don’t like your building. It isn’t safe enough. Now that I finally have you, of course, I’m going to keep you here with me.”
Once again, you feel too many steps behind. You just blink at him, confused. How does he even know where you live??
He takes your chin in his hand, his fingers gentle. “I told you, Bambi, I take care of what’s mine.”
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hoshifighting · 2 days
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Hey pookie so I just wanted to ask seeing that you didn't see any of my asks in your inbox could you write me a ff where you're in seventeen and you used to have a friends with benefits situation with wonwoo but now that's over and you're with josh but he knows that so now he wants to have a threesome with you and won I you are comfortable and have the time😊💗
threesome with; actual situationship!joshua & past situationship!wonwoo WC: 3.3k WARNINGS: smut, threesome, reader misses wonwoo, mentions of ovulation/sensitiveness, fingering, oral (m and f receiving), body fluids (cum) penetrative sex, a teeth scratch during blowjob—no pain, joshua and wonwoo making eye contact as they fuck you—idk, but felt like a warning.
you’re not entirely sure how it started. maybe it’s the way joshua’s always had this easy charm, like he knows exactly how to say shit that gets under your skin. but it’s not the kind of annoyance that makes you want to push him away, it’s the kind that makes you want to shut him up by doing things that leave the both of you breathless.
and wonwoo… well, wonwoo’s always been a different story. it’s not like he’s cold, exactly. just detached, distant. except when he’s not. except when his hands were on your hips, and his mouth was on your neck, and when he pulled you so close that it’s like he wanted to remind you how much he can feel.
it wasn’t supposed to last as long as it did, but it did. until it didn’t.
now, though? now you’ve got joshua, and that’s its own thing. he’s smoother than wonwoo ever was, always knows how to keep things light and playful even when his touch is hot and heavy. you’re not sure what to call what you have with him—it’s not exactly a relationship, but it’s not casual either. and he knows about wonwoo. of course he does. you never accomplished about lying to joshus, he knows everything about you, and you simply cant lie looking inside his eyes.
“so,” joshua says, leaning back against the couch, his eyes fixed on you with that lazy smirk you’ve come to expect. “what if we changed things up?”
you raise a brow, not quite following. “changed things up how?”
his gaze flicks over you, dark in his eyes now, something you’ve only seen in flashes before, right when he’s about to get serious. “i know about you and wonwoo. i know it’s over, but…” he lets the words hang there, knowing exactly how to build suspense. “what if it didn’t have to be over?”
you feel your stomach flip, your mind racing to catch up with the suggestion that’s hanging in the air like a loaded gun. “what the fuck are you talking about?”
he doesn’t flinch, doesn’t even look like he’s joking. “i’m talking about the three of us.”
you let out a laugh, more out of shock than anything. “a fucking threesome? with wonwoo?” it’s so ridiculous, but there’s something twisted in your chest that says it’s not entirely a bad idea.
joshua just shrugs like it’s the most natural thing in the world. “you said he was good, right? no reason to keep that all to yourself. besides… i’m curious.”
“curious?” you echo, still not believing what you’re hearing. “about what exactly?”
his smile turns wicked, and he leans forward, his lips brushing your ear. “about what it’d be like to see you with him. to see how you’d react if it was both of us. together.”
the idea rolls through your mind like wildfire, igniting thoughts you didn’t even know were buried there. you picture it—wonwoo’s quiet dom that you remembered, joshua’s charming and sensual—and suddenly, the room feels too hot, your heart beating too fast.
you lean back, eyes narrowed. “and what makes you think wonwoo’s even into that?”
joshua grins, knowing exactly what he’s doing. “oh, he’s into it. trust me.”
you don’t need to ask how he knows, and that’s what gets to you. this whole situation, as absurd as it sounds, feels almost inevitable. the tension between you and joshua’s always been good enough, but throw wonwoo into the mix, and it’s like adding gasoline to a slow-burning fire.
“you really think this is a good idea?” you ask, not sure if you’re talking to joshua or yourself at this point.
“i think it’s an idea,” he says, shrugging again, that confidence never leaving his face. “whether or not it’s a good one is up to you.”
you bite your lip, torn between the pull of curiosity and the weight of everything that’s gone down with wonwoo. it wasn’t messy when it ended, but it wasn’t exactly clean either. things like that don’t just disappear. they linger.
“fuck, you’re serious about this.” it’s not a question, more like a realization. joshua’s leaning in, his hands tracing light patterns over your skin, and you feel yourself giving in to the inevitable, even though part of you is still screaming that this is insane.
“completely,” he says, his lips grazing your jaw. “so, what do you say? wanna see how far we can push this?”
there’s a moment, where you think about what this could mean. it’s not just about sex, not with joshua and wonwoo involved. the way joshua’s eyes burn into yours as if he’s daring you to cross a line you can never uncross.
but then, you think about the way wonwoo used to look at you, that hunger in his sharp eyes, and the way joshua’s always been able to coax you into doing things you never thought you’d be into. and, well… maybe crossing that line isn’t the worst idea after all.
“alright,” the weight behind it feels like a door being kicked wide open. “let’s do it.”
joshua’s grin stretches wider, a dangerous glint in his eyes. “that’s what i thought you’d say.”
you can feel wonwoo's presence, even though wonwoo’s not here yet. but you know—you know—that when he is, things are going to change in a way none of you can ever take back.
and the fucked up part is? you’re not sure you’d want to.
[...]
“a threesome?!”
wonwoo’s voice cuts through the room. he’s standing at the foot of joshua’s bed, his eyes wide in disbelief—those same eyes that are always narrow, focused, but right now they’re blown open like he just heard the most ridiculous thing in his life.
honestly, you can’t blame him.
you sit there, smaller than you’ve ever felt, wrapped in the sheets like they might shield you from the exhasperation of his reaction. you’d expected some kind of pushback from wonwoo—he’s not exactly the most spontaneous guy—but the shock in his voice still stings more than you’d thought it would. joshua’s quiet beside you, arms folded across his chest, watching wonwoo with this unreadable look, lips pressed into a thin line. like he’s assessing the situation. like he’s waiting to see how this plays out.
“i—” you start, but your throat feels dry, your words dying before they’ve even formed. you shift, uncomfortable, but it’s not just the awkwardness of the moment. there’s something more, something deeper that’s making your skin feel hot, your body overly sensitive to every movement. you know what it is. you can feel it. your body’s buzzing, the ache between your thighs making itself known with every subtle shift of the sheets. you’re ovulating, and it’s making this whole thing worse, making your body respond in ways that are frustratingly out of your control.
wonwoo’s still staring, he looks at you, then at joshua, then back at you again. you don’t meet his eyes, can’t bring yourself to.
“are you serious?” his voice is lower now, more measured, but there’s still a note of incredulity in it.
you swallow hard, forcing yourself to look up at him. “yeah,” you say, voice quiet, but it’s the truth. “we’re serious.”
wonwoo looks like he’s processing it, his mind running a mile a minute, but there’s a flicker of something in his expression that tells you he’s considering it. and that’s enough for joshua, who leans forward slightly, his voice smooth, persuasive.
“it’s not as weird as it sounds,” joshua says, his tone light, like he’s just suggesting something casual, like going out for drinks. “you’re both already close. you trust each other, I know you for years. we’ve all got chemistry, right?”
wonwoo’s eyes narrow slightly at joshua, but the tension between them isn’t exactly hostile. it’s more like a challenge, like he’s weighing the pros and cons, trying to figure out if this is something he can actually wrap his head around.
finally, wonwoo sighs, rubbing a hand over his face, and when he speaks again, there’s a resigned sort of acceptance in his voice. “fuck it. okay.”
your heart jumps at the words. wonwoo’s gaze locks on yours, and for the first time in what feels like forever, there’s no distance between you. no walls.
joshua doesn’t say anything, but you feel his presence, the way his eyes are on you, observing every little reaction. there’s something almost possessive in the way he watches, like he’s waiting for you to make the first move.
you don’t wait long.
before you even realize what you’re doing, you’re reaching for wonwoo, pulling him down by the front of his shirt until his lips crash into yours. it’s messy, a little frantic, and you missed him. so, so much. like you missed him more than you were willing to admit. you can’t help the small sound that escapes your throat, the way your body responds immediately, almost embarrassingly fast.
wonwoo’s hands grip your waist, pulling you closer, torching the fire that’s already been burning low in your belly.
joshua’s still silent beside you, but you feel his eyes on you, feel the way his presence lingers, close but not touching. when you finally pull away from wonwoo, breathless and dazed, you glance at joshua. his lips are pressed together in a tight line, his expression carefully neutral, but there’s a tension in his jaw that tells you he’s not unaffected by what he just saw.
“fuck,” wonwoo mutters, his forehead resting against yours, his breath hot against your lips. “you’re… fuck, you’re wet already.”
you let out a shaky breath, your body pulsing with a need that’s only getting worse. “yeah,” you admit, not even embarrassed by it. “it’s… it’s the timing.”
wonwoo raises a brow, confused for a second, before realization dawns on his face. “oh.”
wonwoo knew about “the timing” he used to be your relief for it, and he remembered how sensitive you were.
joshua finally speaks up “she’s sensitive right now. been like this all day.”
you want it. you need it.
wonwoo’s eyes darken, his fingers tightening on your waist. “is that right?”
joshua’s watching closely, his hand brushing over your thigh, and the contact is enough to make your breath hitch, your body already responding before you can even think about it. “she’s all yours for now,” joshua murmurs. “but don’t get too comfortable.”
wonwoo’s lips are on yours again, his hands exploring your body with a familiarity that makes the nostalgia wash over you like grandma's food, and you can’t help but respond, your body arching into him.
every touch, every kiss feels magnified, like your senses are on overdrive, and it’s all you can do to keep yourself from losing control entirely. you’re wet, so wet it’s embarrassing, and you know they can both feel it, know exactly how badly you want this, how badly you need it.
“fuck, you’re so sensitive,” wonwoo breathes against your skin, his fingers teasing along the waistband of your underwear, and you whimper at the contact, your hips bucking involuntarily. “can’t believe how wet you are.”
joshua leans in, his lips brushing wonwoo's ear as he whispers, “told you she’s been like this all day. it’s driving her crazy.”
you let out a shaky breath, wonwoo’s fingers dip lower, brushing against your soaked core, and you moan, your head falling back against joshua’s shoulder. it’s too much, but at the same time, it’s exactly what you’ve been craving, what your body’s been screaming for all day.
joshua’s hand slips under your shirt, his fingers brushing over your tits, twisting the hardened nipples, he’s letting wonwoo have you, letting you drown in it, knowing that it’s only a matter of time before he takes over.
wonwoo’s fingers slide inside you, slow at first, and the instant he curls them, you feel your body react, hips stuttering forward like you’re trying to chase the sensation, but can’t quite control it. it’s like your entire body remembers him, remembers the way he used to touch you, how he knows exactly what makes you fall apart.
you gasp, your forehead pressing against his chest, his free hand coming up to hold the back of your neck, keeping you close. “fuck,” you whisper, your breath ragged, your skin burning, fever. “wonwoo…”
he doesn’t respond with words, just lets out a low hum, his fingers working inside you with an infuriating pace, slow but so damn effective. you clench around him, feeling the wetness start to drip onto the sheets beneath you, and your mind’s a blur.
then, they share a look—wonwoo and joshua, their eyes meeting over your trembling form like they’re communicating something quietly between them. it makes your stomach tighten. wonwoo’s chest rumbles with a deep chuckle as you crumble against him, barely able to hold yourself up.
“fuck, you’re squeezing me so tight,” wonwoo mutters, his fingers start moving faster, curling with every thrust, hitting that sweet spot inside you that makes your knees buckle. “didn’t think you’d be this sensitive.”
“wonwoo—” you choke out, your head falling back, and your hand reaches out blindly for joshua. he’s pulling away, but you need him, need both of them. “joshua—”
you hear him groan softly, and when you turn your head, you see him standing there, his hand wrapped around his cock, pumping it slowly, watching you like he’s savoring the sight of you falling apart on wonwoo’s fingers. “fuck, you look so good like that,” he says, his voice thick with lust. “so fucking needy.”
you bite your lip, moaning as wonwoo’s fingers slide deeper, the wet, obscene sounds filling the room as your body betrays you. your thighs tremble, your hands clawing at the sheets, the sensation of being split between them making your head spin. “joshua,” you moan again, voice breaking. “please… come back.”
he doesn’t need much more convincing. you watch as he steps forward, his cock hard and slick in his fist. “you want me that bad, huh?” he murmurs, the teasing lilt in his voice cutting through the haze clouding your mind. “can’t handle just wonwoo?”
wonwoo chuckles softly, his fingers still working inside you. “she’s falling apart already,” he mutters, his breath hot against your neck. “not sure she can handle both of us.”
“she can,” joshua says confidently, his thumb swiping over the tip of his cock as he steps closer, looming over you. “she just needs a little encouragement.”
you’re already panting, your body on edge, teetering dangerously close to losing control completely. you can feel the wetness coating his hand now, dripping onto the sheets, and it only makes the whole thing worse. every little movement makes you more sensitive, your body almost too responsive, and the frustration builds in your chest.
joshua kneels down on the bed, his cock brushing your lips, and you open your mouth automatically, desperate to have him inside you. but the second you try to take him in, wonwoo’s fingers curl again, and you gasp, your body jerking uncontrollably.
“shit—” you whimper, struggling to breathe, “i can’t—”
joshua presses the tip of his cock against your lips, his eyes burning into yours. “oh, you’re just gonna have to try a little harder, baby.”
you moan against him, your hips rolling instinctively into wonwoo’s hand, your body caught in this maddening push and pull between the two of them. joshua slides his cock past your lips, and the feeling of him, heavy and warm on your tongue, only intensifies the sensation of wonwoo’s fingers inside you. you choke a little, struggling to focus on either one of them, but it’s impossible.
wonwoo’s pace picks up, his fingers thrusting deeper, and just when you think you can’t take it anymore, he pulls them out, leaving you empty and clenching around nothing. you whine at the loss, your head spinning, but before you can even process it, he’s shifting lower, pressing your thighs apart with a firm grip.
“wonwoo—” you gasp, your words muffled around joshua’s cock.
“shh,” wonwoo murmurs, his breath hot against your inner thigh. “just relax.”
and then his mouth is on you, his tongue licking a broad, slow stripe up your center, and your entire body seizes up, a broken moan ripping from your throat. your hips buck against his mouth, but he holds you down, his grip tight on your thighs as he starts devouring you like he’s been waiting for this moment forever.
“fuck,” joshua mutters, his hand tightening in your hair as you struggle to take him, the combination of wonwoo’s tongue on your clit and joshua in your mouth pushing you past the point of reason. “you’re so fucking wet. wonwoo’s making a mess out of you.”
you can’t respond, can barely even think, your mind a swirling mess. wonwoo’s tongue is relentless, teasing and sucking at your clit, his fingers slipping back inside you as he eats you out like it’s his only mission in life. you can feel your legs shaking, your entire body trembling as you try to keep up, but it’s impossible. every touch, every thrust of his fingers makes you more sensitive, makes it harder to breathe.
“fuck, i can’t—” you gasp, pulling off joshua’s cock for a second, your voice a desperate, breathless whine.
joshua just chuckles darkly, stroking your cheek with the back of his hand. “you’re doing so good, baby. just a little more.”
wonwoo hums in agreement, the vibration against your clit making your entire body jolt, and you feel yourself spiraling, the tension building faster than you can handle. his tongue flicks over you again, and this time, he focuses on that one spot—the needy, throbbing clit—sucking just hard enough to send you over the edge.
you cry out, your back arching off the bed, your entire body shuddering as the orgasm rips through you, and you can’t do anything but ride it out, trembling and gasping for breath as wonwoo keeps going, his mouth never letting up.
“fuck, look at you,” joshua mutters, his voice full of awe as he watches you fall apart. “so fucking beautiful when you come. i love it.”
wonwoo finally pulls back, his lips shiny and slick with your cum, his eyes dark and hungry as he looks up at you. “she’s not done yet,”
and you know he’s right.
“fuck, look at you,” wonwoo mutters, pulling back from between your legs, his lips still glistening with you. “i’ve got you ready for him, haven’t i?” the heat in your cheeks burning deeper as you realize what he means.
you don’t have time to respond before joshua's hands are on your hips, pulling you up to your knees. the shift makes you gasp, you glance back at him.
“yeah, you’ve got her real nice and wet for me,” joshua says, the blunt head of his cock teasing at your entrance. “good job, wonwoo.”
you feel a kick of embarrassment making your legs shake. wonwoo’s hand comes up to brush against your cheek, turning your face toward him as he looks down at you with that familiar gaze. “c’mere,” he murmurs, his thumb grazing over your lips. “i missed your pretty mouth.”
your lips part automatically, like you’re drawn to him, and before you know it, you’ve wrapped your hand around the base of his cock, guiding him toward your lips. he groans softly as you take him in, his hand resting on your jaw, fingers curling slightly as you suck him in deeper.
“god, i missed this,” he breathes out, his voice catching as you swirl your tongue around him, taking him deeper into your throat. “missed how fucking good you are at this.”
your cheeks flush at the praise, your body humming as joshua teases you from behind, the tip of his cock just narrowly entering you. wonwoo’s hand tightens on your jaw, guiding your movements as you bob your head up and down, your lips stretched around him. the weight of him on your tongue, the taste of him—everything is overwhelming in the best way.
but just as you start to take him in throat, joshua suddenly thrusts into you from behind, hard. the sharp intrusion makes you gasp around wonwoo’s cock, your teeth scraping lightly against him as the sudden cock fills you all at once.
“shit—!” wonwoo curses, his hips jerking as your teeth graze him, not enough to hurt, but enough to make him jolt. his eyes widen in shock, but then a shaky laugh escapes his lips, his free hand tightening in your hair as he steadies you. “motherfucker.”
joshua lets out a loud laugh behind you, clearly amused by wonwoo’s reaction. “sorry about that,” he says, but there’s no real apology in his tone, only satisfaction as he starts moving inside you again, his hips snapping forward with sharp, controlled thrusts that have you whimpering around wonwoo’s cock.
“you’re such a fucking asshole hyung,” wonwoo mutters, but the words are strained, his voice catching as he watches your lips stretch around him. his hand rests on the back of your neck now, guiding your head in time with his shallow thrusts as he slowly fucks your mouth. “fuck, just like that. good girl.”
joshua’s pace is relentless, his hips slamming into you from behind, both filling you—wonwoo in your mouth, joshua inside you.
“god, you’re so fucking tight,” joshua groans, his hands gripping your hips harder as he pushes deeper, the wet, obscene sounds of him fucking you filling the room. “woo, you’ve got her all loosened up, but she’s still so fucking tight around me.”
wonwoo chuckles, but it’s strained, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he watches you struggle to take both of them. “yeah?” he mutters, his voice rough. “she’s so fucking wet, isn’t she? dripping all over you.”
joshua’s pace falters for just a second as he glances up at wonwoo, and for a moment, they lock eyes. it’s strange at first, like neither of them expected to find themselves in this situation—watching each other while they both take you apart. its strange, strange because...
they start to enjoy it.
they enjoy the way their faces contort, the way their moans mix together, the sight of you caught between them—cocks twitching.
joshua whimpers as looking wonwoo's eyes, a smirk playing at his lips as he gives you another sharp thrust, just to watch you choke around wonwoo’s cock.
the sound of both of them moaning, cursing, panting—it only makes you wetter, makes you crave more.
“shit,” joshua breathes out, his voice strained as he keeps up the brutal pace, his hand sliding up your back, fingers digging into your skin. “fuck, you’re taking us so well.”
wonwoo’s face contorts, his hand tightening in your hair as his cock twitches in your mouth. “you’re gonna make me come if you keep going like this,” he groans, his eyes rolling back slightly as he fights to stay in control.
you whimper around him, your body shaking as the pleasure builds higher and higher, and you can feel yourself getting closer, every movement, every touch is pushing you nigher, and the sounds of their moans, the way they’re both so fucking into it—it’s enough to send you over.
“cum for us,” joshua growls, as his hips slam into you again, harder this time.
wonwoo’s grip tightens, his breath coming in short, ragged bursts as he watches you, his fingers flexing slightly on the back of your neck. “show us how fucking good you are.”
your body finally gives in. you come hard, your entire body shaking with the power of it, your lips trembling around wonwoo’s cock as you gasp for air.
“fuck,” wonwoo groans, his hand tightening on your neck as his hips stutter forward, his cock twitching in your mouth as he follows you over the edge.
joshua isn’t far behind, his hips slamming into you one last time before he lets out a sly, throaty moan, his body tensing as he spills inside you, filling you up.
wonwoo pulls out of your mouth slowly, his thumb brushing over your swollen lips as he looks down at you. you look at him shaking your head, taking his cock inside your wet mouth again.
the man melts on the headboard, joshua sat, looking how you look eager to make wonwoo cum, like you just cant leave him hanging. your knees give out, but your neck keep working to bob your head.
there's a line of spit dripping from your chin, as you suck him moaning, as the simply action of sucking him, was stimulating you. wonwoo eyes are glued with joshua's, the hyung biting his own bottom lip as he watches every single detail.
wonwoo feels the cock twitching, the gaze of his hyung plus the warmth of your mouth, making him cum on spot. he looks back at you again, the cum filling your tongue, leaving traces of it on your chin and neck, as you moan dumbly before laying on his thigh.
the boys make eye contact again, a smile spreading across their lips.
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lovelookspretty · 1 day
Text
lover of mine
drew starkey x actress!reader au
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— in which drew and y/n, secretly exes, must fake date in order to keep the peace at a mutual friend’s wedding, but the forced proximity makes them question whether they ever truly moved on.
warnings: y/n lowkey being difficult because she doesnt want to lie to her best friend, DREW TRYING HIS BEST
one | two | three
authors note: okay she was a little UGHcore but i just needed a rocky start before things got cute n theyll be communicating soon. guys i promise theyll get better n y/n also wont feel so guilty as time goes on !!!!!
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you gaze up at the home through the window of the car. drew is driving beside you, insisting you begin the plan by arriving together to the address leila forwarded to everyone.
“it’s . . . i didn’t think it would look like this,” you say aloud, and drew turns down the volume of the radio after he parks the car out front.
the house is big, surrounded by a few others down the road that look similar to it. the first floor seems like a basement area because the stairs at the front of the house lead all the way up to the second floor and continue two more, standing at four in total.
it’s just a few miles away from town that you and drew were able to drive by and take a look at on the way there. the area is beautiful. no wonder why leila’s mom and her boyfriend stay there.
the front door is open and you spot leila’s head peeking out of the doorway just on time. she disappears for a moment before she’s leaving the house to hurry down the stairs, probably to greet you both. you’re already unbuckling your seatbelt and getting out of the car to meet her halfway.
“isn’t it amazing? was it a safe drive from los angeles?” leila asks as you quickly greet her with a hug, before you walk her over to drew’s car. he’s opened the trunk and back doors to retrieve your things. “two weeks here will be nice, huh?”
“oh absolutely,” you agree with her, and you grab your purse from the backseat and drew’s backpack, then shut the door. “is everyone else here?”
“yeah, they just got here an hour ago—gia brought her boyfriend, roman. he’s a little shady but they’re kinda cute. libby’s here too, ooh, and oscar, theo’s childhood friend,” leila says and you can just hear the excitement in her voice that makes you smile.
you hold one of the straps of drew’s backpack and hold it up for him to take it while leila keeps talking. you watch as he eyes it for a moment before looking at you, as if he’s wondering why you don’t want to take it.
the thought doesn’t even cross your mind but it’s fine. he takes his backpack and slings it over his shoulder, then continues to grab the handle of his suitcase and carry it out of the trunk, then yours.
you stand there and wait for him to hand you something to carry but he just keeps his backpack on both shoulders, shuts the trunk, locks the car, and then grasps both suitcase’s handles with either of his hands, ready to head up. there’s a faint smile on his face when he faces you and leila.
“you’re taking them?” you ask, referring to both of your things so you can just bring your purse to the house.
he nods like it’s nothing, “yeah, i got it.”
leila can’t help but awe at you two. “you guys are so adorable. theo and i missed having you both around,” she says as she turns around and heads to the home.
at her words, you peer over your shoulder and send drew a knowing look, but there’s a slight twinge of guilt in both of your expressions that you have to shrug off.
you and drew stand side-by-side as you confront the home, watching as leila walks up the steps and is immediately approached by theo, who hands her a drink.
they share a kiss, and right past them you can just barely spot a few figures that must be the rest of the group. they’re shouting and laughing with one another, leaving you to look at drew again.
he gives you a nudge. “professionals, remember?” he’s referring back to your initial conversation about the plan just two weeks ago.
something about all of this just makes your stomach turn, but you nod. “professionals,” you repeat, and then look at the house again, then you take your step.
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you’re carefully settling down on the bed leila’s given you and drew. it’s in a separate room right next to where she and theo will be sleeping. and of course, there’s just one bed.
“i can take the couch tonight if you want,” drew offers as he sets both of your belongings on the side, but he’s talking about sleeping on the small couch on the opposite side of the room to the bed, just against the window.
“it’s just sleeping in a bed, star, it’s nothing we haven’t done before,” you tell him with a shake of your head, and drew’s shoulders drop ever so slightly at the sound of his old nickname, the one that once rolled off your tongue so effortlessly. now, it feels like a small peace offering, a reminder of when things were simpler.
he gives it a few moments to make sure you’re okay with it, before he nods. “okay,” he says.
you check the time on your phone. it’s already eleven in the morning and leila said she wanted to go swimming in the afternoon. you have a whole beach ahead of the house but she insists on using the pool in the back. theo even suggested earlier that he and oscar can grill some lunch.
“i should get ready,” you say as you stand and toss your phone on the bed, then approach your suitcase. there’s a knock at the door and you know it’s leila. “i’ll be out soon, sorry!” you tell her, hoping you’re loud enough for her to hear you from all the music they’re playing out there.
you glance up at drew when you see he’s just standing there. “what are you gonna be doing?” you ask him, then rifle around your clothes for a bikini.
he scratches the back of his head as he settles on the couch, and he shrugs, “might join theo and oscar since they’ve been down there already.”
you only nod as you find a matching set that you’ll decide to wear today. drew is looking around the room, even outside where the views are like paintings on a canvas.
“this place is so nice,” he says, a little too casually, like he’s trying to ease the awkwardness. “lei’s mom really knows how to live it up.”
you don’t respond right away, focusing on your makeup bag that you need to retrieve something in. it’s not that you don’t hear him, you just . . . don’t feel like talking. when you finally do, your voice comes out flatter than intended. “yeah. it’s a nice place.”
tension lingers heavy in the air. you hear drew shift on the couch, probably sensing your mood, but he continues. “kinda reminds me of that trip we took up the coast. remember that little inn with the—”
“i don’t really want to talk about that right now,” you cut him off, your tone sharper than you mean it to be. you don’t look at him, you just reapply your perfume as if it’s the most important task in the world.
there’s a pause, and you can feel drew’s gaze on you. “right,” he says quietly, “sorry.”
you exhale, trying to shake off the tension building in your chest. you know it’s not his fault—not entirely. this whole thing was a bad idea from the start, but you agreed. you’re here. and now, you’re stuck with him, in this room, pretending like everything’s fine when it’s the furthest thing from it.
“i . . . didn’t mean to snap,” you say, softer this time. “it’s just, i’m still not completely okay with all of this.”
drew leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “i get that. but we’ve already talked about it. we agreed to do this, and now we’re here. you know that it’s too late to back out.”
you close your suitcase with more force than necessary, finally looking up at him. “yeah, but it wasn’t my idea to lie to my best friend, drew.”
his jaw clenches for a second, and you can see the faint flicker of hurt in his eyes, but he doesn’t lash out. he just nods, “i know it wasn’t. but you’re here. you agreed.”
you purse your lips, frustration building. “yeah. because you asked me to. not because i wanted to.”
he runs a hand through his hair, letting out a slow breath. “i didn’t want to drag you into this if you were gonna be miserable the whole time.”
“i’m not miserable,” you snap, but the lie feels heavy as it leaves your lips. you avoid his gaze, the weight of everything sitting on your shoulders. “i just don’t want to pretend everything’s okay when it’s not.”
he’s quiet for a moment, the silence thick between you two. “i’m trying, y/n,” drew says finally, his voice low, almost pleading. “i’m trying to make this less . . . awkward, but it feels like no matter what i say, it’s wrong.”
you just fold your arms, staring at the floor. “maybe that’s because it’s not just about this trip. it’s about everything that happened before.”
drew’s expression hardens, but he doesn’t argue. “i know. i just thought that maybe this could be a chance for us to be around each other again. figure things out.”
you raise your eyebrows. “figure what out? there’s nothing left to figure out. we’re not together. and pretending like we are just feels wrong.”
he’s silent for a long moment, staring at you like he’s trying to find the right words but can’t. eventually, he just stands, moving over to the window. “if you want out, y/n, you can tell them the truth. i’m not gonna stop you.”
you swallow hard, not knowing what to say to that. of course, he’s not wrong—you could end this charade whenever you want. but something keeps you from doing it. maybe it’s the fear of letting everyone down. maybe it’s the guilt of seeing leila so happy, thinking everything’s fine between you and drew.
or maybe it’s something deeper—something you’re not ready to admit to yourself yet.
“i’m not gonna ruin leila and theo’s plan,” you mutter, more to yourself than to him. “i’m sticking to ours.”
you’ve collected your swim suit and a pair of shorts and head for the bathroom. before you close the door behind you, you hear drew’s quiet voice, more resigned than angry now.
“i’m trying, y/n. i wish you’d let me.”
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you’ve joined leila downstairs, as she’s planned on preparing other food for todays lunch in the kitchen, so libby, gia, and roman are already there enjoying themselves. they’re mainly just talking, not doing much other than that. leila’s already set everything up for you and her to work on for the next half hour or so.
you greet libby and gia with a small wave, having already said hello to them when you first got there. libby is a publicist in hollywood who met leila while she was filming some indie movie earlier in her career. she was brought in to manage leila’s pr during a press tour and boom—immediate friends.
gia and roman came sometime after. all you know is that leila met gia at a party like you and leila. gia’s incredible in fashion and helped leila with some of her carpet looks. roman’s just this alternative musician who she started dating this year. cute, but a little weird, like leila said.
“so, you and drew starkey?” roman asks as he pops a grape in his mouth, eyeing you. “i thought outerbanks didn’t have a girlfriend.”
“you thought that, and a lot of people still do,” you tell him. leila’s showing you her plan on what to cook while you watch. “he and i like to keep it private.”
“more like a complete secret,” he says, in which gia has to smack his arm to tell him to stop talking. “what? nobody knows.”
“some relationships work better that way,” you say.
“yeah, maybe take a page out of their book and do the same,” libby tells roman, and you see leila smiling at her friends as she works on dicing the vegetables. “there’s a few photos of you two out on the internet. i mean gia, baby, if i were you, i’d keep it a secret. roman’s so blah.”
he shakes his head at her and it makes you smile this time. libby catches it and grins, giving you a nod as she peels her orange.
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after eating lunch and playing around in the water for hours, you all finally settle at the firepit, minus gia and roman who insisted they needed to sleep earlier because of their flight in today.
you’re leaning back against the seat, sitting next to leila who’s wrapped up in her blanket. the boys and libby are talking on their own about whatever. you don’t know. you just see drew smiling and constantly leaning forward and laughing, in which you tell him every time to be careful in case he gets too close to the fire.
your focus wavers when you feel his hand casually rest on your thigh. it’s not possessive, but there’s a weight to it. you immediately stiffen, your body instinctively tensing at the sudden contact.
your gaze flicks to his hand, then up to his face. he’s not even looking at you, continuing his conversation, acting as though the gesture is completely natural. it’s all part of the act, you remind yourself. he’s only doing it to make sure no one suspects anything. you know you can’t react—any sign of discomfort would raise questions you don’t want to answer—but it pulls you out of the moment with leila.
you force a small, tight smile and try to refocus, nodding along to whatever leila is saying.
“how have you and drew been?” she asks you, and you suddenly feel that guilt creeping up on you at that moment. that’s a terrible question.
you blink twice, considering your words before speaking, “we’re good, really good. it’s gonna be a little hard when drew leaves to film soon, but you know how it goes.”
she hums. “that’s how theo said he felt like when i was away for white lotus,” she says gently, understanding where you’re coming from.
you smile, but the weight of your lie settles deep in your chest. it’s a weird feeling, pretending to be something you're not, especially when leila’s eyes are so kind, so trusting. you know she means well, but there’s just so much guilt.
leila tilts her head and leans it on the back of the couch, watching you. “it’s tough, isn’t it? balancing everything—work, life, love. theo and i had such a hard time with it at first.”
you nod, keeping your hands busy by fiddling to avoid looking at her. “yeah, it is. i mean, it’s always been a challenge with our schedules.”
leila’s brows furrows slightly. “you two have always seemed like you handle it so well, though. what’s your secret?”
your heart races a little, and you force a chuckle. “i guess we’ve just gotten used to it.”
the words feel hollow, and you wonder if she can sense it. it’s not a complete lie—you and drew had gotten used to it all, but that was before everything fell apart. before the distance between you became more than just physical.
leila catches your eye again, her voice softer. “you two have always been so private. it’s kinda nice, though. you don’t have to deal with all the drama the rest of us go through with the media and stuff.”
you force a laugh, and you can just feel the warmth radiating off your body. “yeah, it has its perks.”
you can’t even look at her. your gaze keeps getting drawn to the fire that leila can just sense the awkwardness, tilting her head a little, and you can see the faintest trace of concern in her expression.
“you okay, y/n? you seem . . . i don’t know. tired?”
“i’m fine,” you say, a little too quickly. you clear your throat, trying to keep your voice steady as you continue. “it’s just . . .” you pause, checking that the others aren’t listening before leaning in to speak quietly, “drew and i, we’ve been under a lot of pressure lately. work and everything. i think it’s just catching up with us.”
leila nods, sympathy in her eyes. “i get it. it’s hard when you don’t get enough time together.” she pauses, looking like she’s considering her next words. “but hey, at least you’re here now. a couple of weeks without any distractions, right? this could be good for you two.”
leila’s gaze shifts to the others where drew is still laughing with theo, libby, and oscar. her voice softens again, and she leans closer to you this time. “it’s just nice to see you both here. i don’t think i’ve even seen him since that last time we all hung out a year ago. it’s been a while.”
your heart drops because she’s right—the last time she saw drew was when you were still together, a year ago.
leila just smiles, “well i’m glad you’re both here. theo and i were saying how we miss having you two around more often. it’s gonna be so fun, just like old times.”
you nod, the guilt wrapping itself tighter around your chest, making it hard to breathe to your own best friend. you manage to force another smile, but it feels brittle, like it could shatter at any second.
just then, drew catches your eye as you and leila continue your conversation. his grin falters for just a second when he sees you, like he knows what’s on your mind. and for a brief moment, you wonder if this whole charade is even worth it.
“yeah . . . just like old times.”
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@rubixgsworld @itgirlbrina @thepopcultureaddict @samsmelodrama @kissfinalgirl @itsamegazaddysworld
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archangeldyke-all · 2 days
Note
more plug sev pls ☹️ it can be like almost anything just pLEASE
heheheheheh gonna combine this
giving Sevika sloppy head 🙂‍↕️ under a desk...or.....in a public space
men and minors dni
sevika looks so fucking good right now.
she's got enough regular customers for her to not need to go to parties to sell much anymore, but from time to time she'll get an invite to a party she just can't turn down.
she's dragged you along-- insisting that she's horrible at socializing without you, despite the fact that she's got a crowd of partygoers cackling at her jokes and stories right now.
you're watching from the couch, a small smile playing at your lips as you watch your girlfriend easily work a crowd. her henley sleeves are tugged up around her forearms, her hair is loose and brushing her cheeks, and her fingers are quickly rolling up a few joints for the crowd.
she looks up, her eyes finding yours across the room immediately, a shy smile on her lips when she catches you staring. she nods her head, trying to summon you toward her, and you go easily, moving through the crowds of people to wrap your arm around her waist while she wraps hers around your shoulders.
"what're you starin' at, huh?" she asks. you snort.
"there's a really hot weed dealer here."
sevika grins and ducks her head. "shut up." she mumbles. you giggle and kiss her cheek.
for a few minutes, you help her roll joints and count cash, snatching one for the pair of you to share, the two of you getting gigglier in the corner as you slowly smoke it between customers. but as the night gets later, more people start dancing and drinking, and pretty soon you and sevika are all alone in your little corner.
"so..." you start, trailing your hands up sevika's arms to grope her biceps. she smirks at you.
"so?"
"so... you think i got a shot with that dealer?" you ask. sevika giggles and swoops in to kiss you. it's far too sweet and chaste for your taste-- but you'll change that soon enough.
"baby, i think you got that dealer wrapped around your finger." she says. you grin and kiss her again.
"you look way too fuckin' good tonight, y'know." you mumble against her lips. she chuckles.
"yeah, my girlfriend helped dress me." she says. you smirk.
"she's got good taste."
you've both started swaying to the music, and you trail your hands down to grab sevika's hips, slowly pushing her further and further away from the crowd. "and where exactly are we going?" she asks. you giggle.
"well... you've got a few options. we could go out to the back patio, there's a few people out there you haven't met yet."
"or?" sevika asks. you grin.
"or we could go to the bathroom so i can get my fucking mouth on you-- show you how crazy you drive me."
sevika gulps, then she grabs your wrist and drags you down the hallway. you cackle the entire way.
it takes a few tries to find an empty room. there's couples hooking up everywhere-- drunk girls crying in the bathroom and people making out in the supply closets-- but eventually you find an empty bathroom.
you pull sevika in by her belt loops, slamming her against the door as you fiddle with her belt buckle, launching forward to slam your mouth against hers. sevika whimpers against your mouth and you sigh sweetly. "i fuckin' love you." you say.
sevika smiles as you start to kneel before her, tugging her pants and boxers down her thighs. "fuck. i love you too, baby."
for a moment, the weed and the sight of sevika's wet cunt overwhelm you. you're stuck in place, your mouth going dry and your head getting fuzzy as you admire her.
"take a picture, it'll last longer." sevika giggles. you huff and pinch her thigh.
"i have pictures-- none of them are as pretty as the real thing."
"fuck off." sevika shudders, pulling a joint out from behind her ear and putting it between her lips. you kiss her happy trail, your eyes locked on hers while she lights up, watching in fascination as she blows the smoke out of her nostrils.
"gimmie a hit." you demand. sevika chuckles and rolls her eyes, but places the joint between your lips regardless. you take a quick hit, then kiss her knuckles.
"thought you wanted to get your mouth on me." she mutters as she pulls the joint back up to her mouth. you giggle.
"feelin' needy?"
"'course i am. got a beautiful girl on her knees in fronta me." she says, gently swiping your cheek. you smile.
"i'll take care of you, sev. you just stand there 'n look pretty." you say with a wink. sevika snorts, then cuts herself off with a moan when you dive forward and start eating her out.
fuck she tastes good. she's soaking wet too. you groan against her and she lets out a curse, her head falling back against the door and her hands threading through your hair.
"shit, baby, you're so fuckin' good at this. couldn't wait 'til we got home, huh?" she teases. you giggle a bit.
"not when you look so good." you say before diving back in. sevika moans.
with the weed in your system and sevika in your mouth you easily lose yourself in making your girlfriend fall apart above you. the sweet moans and grunts she's letting out are like music to your ears, and you can feel her cum and your drool starting to trail down your chin. you don't care. all you care about is the sweet twitch of sevika's thigh as she gasps and bucks into your mouth.
"f-fuck, baby, you're makin' me all messy." sevika whines.
you groan against her cunt, nodding up at her. "i love it." you mumble between kisses and sucks. sevika huffs.
"shit, i'm gonna cum. you look so fuckin' cute on your knees-- my cum all over your face-- fuck baby, you've been wantin' this all night?" she asks. you moan and nod against her.
there's a knock on the door and sevika jumps. you don't stop, just diving back in for more of her as she scrambles to get herself under control enough to shout. "just-- just a minute!"
you chuckle against her and she smacks a hand over her mouth to muffle her moan, flicking your forehead.
"i gotta pee!" a drunk voice calls through the door.
"well do a lap around the house and find a different bathroom!" sevika growls, her voice squeaking halfway through when you sink a finger inside her. she glares down at you. you just chuckle and press against her g-spot, smirking as she shivers.
"some fuckin' people." the drunk outside the bathroom huffs as they walk away.
sevika snaps her head back as she cums, her skull hitting the door, her fingers scratching your scalp, the joint falling from her parted lips and landing on the bathroom floor. you chuckle, dodging the joint to lick up every drop of cum that you can.
sevika's got hearts in her eyes when you finally pull away with a gasp to blink up at her.
"you okay?" you ask with a giggle.
sevika doesn't respond. instead, she swoops down, grabs you and the joint, and pulls you up into her arms, kissing you passionately. you gasp against her lips, and she groans at the taste of herself.
"let's get outta here. i made like six hundred bucks tonight-- i'll take you anywhere you like."
you giggle. "home? for some cuddles?" you request. sevika melts at your request and wraps you up in a hug.
"'s long as i can repay the favor once we're in bed." she mumbles against you. you laugh and nod, and pull the bathroom door open.
there's a line of about five people waiting when you stumble out into the hall, and they all boo and groan as you and sevika walk out.
you just laugh as sevika flips them off. "you're just mad none of you have a girlfriend like mine!" she yells.
you muffle your cackles against her shoulder.
taglist!
@fyeahnix @lavendersgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner
@shimtarofstupidity @chuucanchuucan @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther
@ellsss @sevikaspillowprincess @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai
@glass-apothecary @macaroni676 @artinvain @k3n-dyll @sevsdollette
@ellieslob @xayn-xd @keikuahh @maneskinwh0re @raphaellearp
@iamastar @sevikitty @mascdom @nhaaauyen
@mirconreadzztuff22 @veoomvroom
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list4r · 22 hours
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“Eat it or no tv for you.”
“No!”
“Oh cmon you eat this every day, why not now?”
“I don’t want it! You didn’t do it right!”
“It’s a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Ain’t no right way to do it baby.”
Toji narrows his eyes at the little girl who refused to eat the sandwich he made for her. Correction: the fifth sandwich he had made because “he didn’t do it right.” If he had known this is what having a kid would be like he would’ve studied the basics of sandwich making for toddlers. Ridiculous.
“Well can you tell me the way you want it? I’m not sure what the right way is.”
“I want it like how mommy does it!”
“Well mommy is at work.”
“Then I don’t want it.” The face she makes remind him of you, she’s basically a carbon copy of you personality wise. That tiny face scrunched up when she hears or sees something she doesn’t want. It was amazing how easily she could get anything she wants, Toji was wrapped around her tiny little finger.
“Okay I’ll do it again.” He repeats the same routine of grabbing the bread and putting the peanut butter then the jelly on it. Thinking maybe he cut it wrong he decided to cut it in fours. A bad idea by the way because he is immediately hit with the hysterical cries of his toddler.
“Wait hey hey no no- don’t cry. What’s wrong? Did I do it wrong again?”
“I’m telling mommy you starving me and being a meanie daddy!”
“I’m not a meanie daddy, that’s not nice to say.”
“Uh huh!”
“Nuh uh…. Brat.” Toji scoffs as he looks around to find anything to soothe the crying child. “You want chicken nuggets? Pretty sure we got the dino ones you like so much.”
“I want- *sniffle* sandwich.”
“I made you like a 100 of them but you didn’t want them.. I don’t know what you want me to do-“
The sound of your keys turning in the door cut off his words, Toji lets out a sigh of relief. “Baby.. thank god you’re here.” He greets you with a kiss and helps you out of your outerwear, a routine you two have developed over the years.
“Why is she crying Toji? Awww what’s wrong sweetheart?” You pick up the child, holding her close as you wipe the tears off her cheeks.
“Daddy won’t feed me!”
“Wha- don’t lie to your mom like that. She just didn’t want what I made her that’s all.”
Turning to him you raise an eyebrow “what did you make for her?”
“What she always eat for lunch. Fuckin nasty ass peanut butter and jelly sandwich.”
“Don’t call her food nasty in front of her. How did you make it?”
“Like how any normal person makes it.” Toji shrugs, wondering why such a question was asked.
“You have to do it a certain way or she won’t eat it.
“So she said. So I put the peanut butter-“
“No it’s the jelly first Toji.”
“What the fuck? I didn’t know there was a certain way.”
You place the child back down, gathering the ingredients. “It’s always jelly first then the peanut butter, on separate breads too don’t mix them and don’t put too much. Then cut the crusts off and cut them into three rectangles.” You say as you perfectly demonstrate how to make the sandwich. “If you don’t do it like this she won’t eat it. Learned it the hard way- here you go sweetie.”
“Thank you mommy!”
Toji scoffs at the scene, earning a giggle from the little girl happily munching away. “Tch… yeah okay I’ll remember that next she demands it.” He pretended to be annoyed but the happy giggles from his little girl cause his mouth to turn on both corners. Honestly he has a lot to learn about his dad business but having you by his side definitely makes things easier.
“Seriously, ain’t shit easy about raising a child.”
“What can I say? I’m just the best”
“Hm yeah she definitely gets her attitude from you.”
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reidswhre · 18 hours
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spencer reid x fem!reader
warnings: it’s silly and fluff
a/n: this is the intro of episode 7 from season 3, i founded it so funny so i made this blurb.
“A popular theory among leading astrophysicists estimates that the hypermatter reactor would need about 10 to the 32nd joules of energy to destroy a planet the size of the Earth.” You didn’t exactly know what Reid was trying to explain to Morgan, but he looked cute.
Emily looked at you mockingly.
“Now, Lucas said it took 19 years to build the first Death Star, right?” Spencer looked at you.
“But if you look at The New Essential Chronology, there's a test bed prototype for a super laser that's been—” Morgan got up from his seat and headed toward Rossi’s new office.
“Where are you going?” Spencer asked Morgan, confused.
“Taking back the last five minutes of my life,” Morgan replied, and Reid made a face.
“I was listening to you.” You shrugged.
“I know you were, you always do.” He smiled at you.
“Don’t you want to know about this guy?” Morgan asked as he walked up the stairs.
“I do.” Emily quickly got up from her desk.
“I don’t! Are you kidding? No, no—This is dangerous.” You followed them.
You were starting to panic a little. Not for nothing, but this guy was pretty mysterious, and even though you might sound a bit like a people pleaser, you were dying to make a good impression on Rossi, and if he caught you snooping around his office, you two weren’t going to become friends anytime soon.
“I've got it all memorized. His books, his bio,” Spencer replied to Morgan.
“Yeah, books that sold over a million copies.”
“So?”
“That’s a million reasons not to come back, if you know what I’m saying.” Morgan explained to us.
I mean, of course, he was right. Why would a guy who had already ended his career years ago suddenly come back? He wasn’t going to do it out of kindness. But that wasn’t your problem.
“Huh!” Morgan exclaimed as he entered his office.
“Taupe walls. That’s a negative color.” Emily was analyzing it. “Cold. Distant. You know, emotionally, taupe is linked to loneliness and a desire to escape from the world.”
“I just figured the guy’s walls would be covered with plaques and commendations,” Morgan continued to Emily.
“Maybe he doesn't want to be reminded of past victories. It’s a new chapter for him.”
Spencer and you peeked into the office, you clinging to his arm.
“Whatever happened to the moratorium on intra-team profiling, guys?” Spencer asked the group.
“Come on, Reid. Team? I don’t think this guy knows the meaning of the word.”
“Probably not, but—We shouldn’t be here. What if he sees us?” You were quite scared.
“I don’t think he will, don’t worry.” Spencer took your hand, and you both entered the office.
“I found something. Looks like some type of religious art. Original maybe, definitely expensive.” Morgan showed us a painting in a frame.
You wrapped your arm around Spencer’s and leaned on his.
“It’s Renaissance art,” you replied to Morgan, looking at the painting in Spencer’s hand.
“If that’s original…” Spencer followed your lead.
“Is it?” Morgan asked.
“It’s kind of hard to tell, I mean, he’s into the classics,” you continued.
“What else?”
“Italian, strict Catholic upbringing, probably believes in redemption.” Spencer was pondering over the painting.
“I believe in a lot of things.” You heard a voice behind you, and it almost gave you a heart attack.
You lifted your head off Spencer’s arm, stepping away from him entirely. He gave you a puzzled look due to the distance.
“Catholic, yes. Italian American, 52 years old. Strict upbringing? Not so much.”
We shared awkward glances between us. This couldn’t be happening.
“Now the artwork? That’s 15th-century original, it costs more than my first house. And as for the wall color, it’s just a base coat, painters will come in and finish tomorrow.” He gave us an ironic smile.
You felt like you were about to die or something.
“Now, if you’re all finished, I think JJ and Hotch are ready for us,” he informed us. “Isn’t that how a team works?” This time he looked straight at Morgan.
You quickly ran out of there before the embarrassment swallowed you whole. Spencer followed right behind you.
“Hey! Wait for me.” You heard him behind you.
“Are you kidding me? I told you we shouldn’t have gone in! What a disgrace, I can’t believe it.” You turned to look at him. “What’s he going to think of me?”
“I don’t think he cares that much, really.” He took your hands in an attempt to calm you down.
“How could he not!? We snooped through his stuff! We profiled him! Oh, this is bad!”
Spencer laughed a little at you. “What are you laughing at!?” You frowned.
“I really don’t think it’s that deep, don’t worry.” He gave you a sincere look.
If you thought about it, it wasn’t that bad. He probably wouldn’t even mention it again, and it wasn’t like you did anything serious... at least you hoped so.
“You think so?” You looked back at him.
“Of course!” He smiled at you. “Come on, I’ll make you some coffee before we go to JJ and Hotch.” Spencer gave you a small kiss on the forehead, took your hand, and led you to the kitchen.
a/n: so this is how i was picturing Spencer and reader when they we’re watching the artwork.
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so cute i’m dying!!
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2amriize · 2 days
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˚⟡˖ RIIZE angry confessions
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ᡣ𐭩 masterlist genre angst, fluff pairing riize x reader
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ᯓ★ SHOTARO
Shotaro had been in love with you for a while, but he always felt that you only saw him as a good friend. Because of this, he decided not to confess his feelings. You two had known each other for years, and although he only realized his feelings a few months ago, he had always felt a bit strange when he saw you with other guys. Back then, he didn't admit it, but he was jealous. He couldn't understand why, despite laughing with him more than anyone else, you still seemed to prefer other guys. Deep down, he felt like he wasn't enough.
Since he realized he was in love with you, you hadn’t mentioned liking any other guys, so Shotaro hadn't felt jealous in a while—until it happened.
One day, while you were having an afternoon snack at a café with Shotaro, something you did often, you spotted a guy from your class who you thought was really cute entering the café. You couldn’t help but feel nervous.
"Oh my god..." you murmured, trying to look away.
“What’s up?” Shotaro asked, turning to see what had caught your attention.
“It’s that guy from my class… He’s…”
“Oh, do you have a crush on him?” Shotaro glanced at the guy for a few seconds before turning back around and letting out a small sigh. “He’s not good for you.”
“Huh? Why do you say that?”
“He looks like trouble. And I don’t think he’s right for you.”
Shotaro had never said anything like that to you before, and it made you a bit angry. What was he implying?
“Since when do you care about what's good for me, Shotaro?” you asked, giving him a serious look, clearly upset by his words. He looked back at you in silence for a few seconds.
“Since I…” He bit his lip and shook his head. “Nevermind.”
“Since what, Shotaro? Why do you suddenly care about the guys I like? It’s none of your business…”
“Because I’m in love with you, Y/N!” Shotaro cut you off, standing up and looking at you intensely. “That’s why, alright? Are you happy now?” He grabbed his things and stormed out of the café.
ᯓ★ EUNSEOK
It was the way Eunseok looked at you that made everyone else realize how much he liked you. Well, everyone except for you. From the moment he met you, Eunseok knew he had feelings for you, but there wasn’t much he could do about it because at the time, you were dating someone else.
When you broke up with that guy, Eunseok was there for you whenever you needed him, supporting you. But that was all he could do—be by your side—because he felt like you didn’t see him the same way he saw you. Even though everyone always mentioned how Eunseok looked at you, you would always reply with, “I don’t know why everyone keeps saying that, Eunseok looks at everyone like that…”
To be honest, sometimes you had thought about it—whether Eunseok really had feelings for you like everyone said—but it didn’t make sense to you, so you would quickly brush it off. On the other hand, Eunseok was finding it harder and harder to contain his feelings. It never seemed like the right moment to confess, especially since you had been going through an on-again, off-again relationship with the same guy for a while, something Eunseok couldn’t stand.
“You got back with him again?” Eunseok asked with a sigh as you both sat on the grass at a friend’s birthday party. You had stepped outside to get some fresh air.
“Yeah… I feel like it’s what I should do.”
“Why, Y/N? Sometimes you make the dumbest decisions…”
“Excuse me?” You looked at him, surprised by the way he spoke. Eunseok had always supported you, and this was the first time he sounded frustrated. “It’s not dumb…”
“Isn’t it? To keep chasing after someone who doesn’t treat you the way you deserve?”
“What do you mean, Eunseok? He treats me well… we just have a few little fights sometimes. Besides, I go back to him because he’s the only one who cares about me at the end of the day, because…”
“Oh my god, Y/N, how can you be so blind?” Eunseok interrupted, looking at you with clear frustration.
“What…?”
As he stood up to go back inside, he murmured, “I don’t understand how you can’t see that the person who loves you the most is right in front of you…”
ᯓ★ SUNGCHAN
Sungchan had been looking out for you since day one. You had known each other since elementary school, and ever since then, you had always been together. He was always by your side, making sure you were okay and safe. You two spent so much time together that people who didn’t know you well often thought you were dating, something you always denied immediately to avoid awkwardness.
Sungchan never took it personally when you denied it—he tried to brush it off quickly—until it happened in a situation unlike any other before. You had never had a boyfriend, mostly because you hadn’t really been interested in any guys… until now. There was this one guy you’d been noticing lately, someone you found intriguing, but you hadn’t told anyone about it because it made you a little shy.
To your surprise, your friends invited this guy to a lunch gathering that you and Sungchan were also attending. When you saw him approaching with your friends, you couldn’t hide your nervousness, which Sungchan immediately noticed. And, as usual, the guy asked how long you and Sungchan had been together.
“No, him and me? We’re not a couple. Not at all. Never,” you said quickly, letting out a nervous laugh.
Sungchan stared at you in silence. He couldn’t believe what you had just done. Normally, you would simply say, “No, we’re just friends,” but this time, it felt like you had overreacted, and it hurt him. As you continued talking more with the guy, Sungchan started to feel left out (and jealous), so he let out a small laugh and walked away to another spot.
It took you a few minutes to realize Sungchan was no longer there, behind you, where he had always been. Confused, you quietly excused yourself from the group to go find him. After searching for a bit, you finally found him leaning against a tree, sipping his drink. You approached and touched his shoulder, and he looked at you with an expression you had never seen on him before.
“Why did you leave, Sungchan? Did something happen?”
“It seemed like you didn’t need me there anymore,” he said, turning his gaze away from you.
“What do you mean?”
“I didn’t know you hated the idea of people seeing us as a couple… or rather, that he saw us as a couple.”
“Sungchan, you know that’s not it. We’re not dating, you know? I always say the same thing. I don’t get why you’re acting like this now…”
“I’ve been following you around like a lost puppy since the day we met, yet you couldn’t see?” Sungchan turned to face you, locking eyes with you for a few seconds.
“What… what do you mean…?” you murmured, feeling your cheeks heat up.
“It’s… nevermind,” he said, walking away.
ᯓ★ WONBIN
Wonbin was a friend of one of your friends, and although you had met him several times before, you didn’t really start talking until a few months ago. To both of your surprise, you had a lot of common interests, which meant you had been talking more and more lately.
Whenever you hung out with your group of friends, it wasn’t unusual for you and Wonbin to spend the entire time together, which led to people starting to suspect there was something going on between you two. However, everyone knew that you had been interested in another guy for a while, a guy who constantly gave you mixed signals. But you were so blinded by the way he treated you that you couldn’t see he was just playing with your feelings.
This was something Wonbin knew, and it was starting to bother him more and more. At first, he didn’t care much, but the more he got to know you, the more frustrated he became with how this guy was treating you. And that’s when he realized that maybe he didn’t see you just as a friend anymore. The moment he came to that realization, he regretted it, knowing that you only had eyes for someone else, and he felt like you’d never notice him.
One evening, you were hanging out with your friends, and for some reason, you all decided to drink. Wonbin wasn’t very good at drinking, so it didn’t take long for him to get tipsy, his cheeks flushed. When Wonbin got drunk, he became even more affectionate than usual. You had also been drinking, but it didn’t affect you as much.
At one point, Wonbin went outside to get some fresh air because he was feeling a bit dizzy, and you followed him to check if he was okay. While outside, you started talking about the guy you liked, and unlike usual, Wonbin didn’t respond or pay much attention. When you noticed he was staring off into the distance, you looked at him.
“Wonbin? Are you okay?”
He stared at you for a few seconds, and just when it seemed like he was about to say something, he sighed and buried his face in his hands, muttering, “Do you like that guy so much that you can’t see what he’s doing to you?”
“Huh? What are you talking about, Wonbin? He treats me really well…”
“Yeah, that’s what you think…”
“You don’t have the right to talk about him like that when you don’t even know him,” you said, getting annoyed at how Wonbin was speaking badly about him.
After a few seconds of silence, Wonbin looked at you and shook his head.
“…This is why I knew I shouldn’t have gotten close to you.”
“What are you talking about, Wonbin?”
“I just… wish you wouldn’t keep seeing that guy.”
“You don’t have the right to say that.”
“I wish I did.”
ᯓ★ SEUNGHAN
Everyone, even you, knew how much Seunghan liked you. But you always ignored his feelings because you preferred not to face that reality. You had been friends for so many years that you didn't want to risk your friendship over it. Still, you couldn't deny that you treated him differently from everyone else, being much more affectionate and always relying on him when you needed someone. Seunghan was always there for you, no matter what. It didn’t matter if you were on the other side of the city and only needed a pen—he would come and bring it to you. That’s how much you meant to him, and everyone could see it.
That’s why, when he heard from others that you were starting to get to know another guy, he felt his heart break a little. He knew you two weren’t a couple and that he had never confessed his feelings, but it still hurt to find out from someone else, especially when you knew how he felt. The thought of you with another guy was something he couldn't stand.
He tried to distance himself from you for a while after hearing the news, but he just couldn’t. He couldn’t say no when you asked him to pick you up from class to take you home, even though he knew you probably had an important date. Despite knowing this date might be with the other guy, he couldn’t bring himself to refuse, so he picked you up just as you had asked.
The whole ride, he was quiet and serious, something you found odd since Seunghan had never behaved like this around you. He was always so sweet and cheerful when he was with you.
"Seunghan, is something wrong? You seem really serious," you asked when he parked in front of your house after the silent ride.
"No, don't worry," he murmured without looking at you.
"I know something’s bothering you…"
"Don't you have to go get ready for your date?"
The way Seunghan looked at you and the tone he used when mentioning your date made you realize he knew about it, and he seemed quite upset.
"Seunghan, you know I care about you a lot, but it’s just…"
"You know. You know I love you and took full advantage of the fact that I'd do anything for you. And I know that. I just kept at it, hoping that one day you'd value me just as much."
You froze after hearing Seunghan’s words. You couldn’t help but feel bad for making him feel this way, though it was never your intention. Before you could even respond, Seunghan spoke again.
"Just… get out. You’re going to be late."
ᯓ★ SOHEE
There had always been a sort of romantic tension between you and Sohee. Both of you were playful and touchy with each other, but that was all—just tension. Even though you both probably had feelings for each other, neither of you had confessed.
In fact, you were always waiting for him to confess, but that moment never seemed to come. The longer you waited, the more tired you grew of holding onto hope. Yet, despite that, you couldn’t seem to let go of the idea of him.
Knowing all of this, you still couldn’t ignore the guy who approached you at the party. You had come to the university party with Sohee, but he had gone off to talk to his friends. The guy, someone you hadn’t seen before, wasted no time approaching you once he saw Sohee wasn’t by your side.
You two talked for a while, and the guy even brushed your arm occasionally while locking eyes with you. You couldn’t deny feeling a bit nervous around him. He was charming and very attractive. After chatting for a bit, you excused yourself to go to the bathroom, promising you’d be right back.
You didn’t expect to find Sohee waiting for you outside the bathroom. You quickly noticed he’d had a few drinks.
"Sohee, have you been drinking?"
"Who was that guy?"
"Are you talking about the one I was talking to earlier? He’s a new guy at our faculty. He’s pretty nice. I was about to go back and talk to him."
"Don’t go back to him," Sohee muttered, lowering his head.
"Sohee, you can’t decide what I do."
"I know I can’t, but I don’t want you to talk to him again."
"Sohee, you’re just drunk and saying things that don’t make sense," you said, walking past him, heading back to the party.
"Y/n, I love you," you heard Sohee murmur as he grabbed your wrist, only to let it go after a few seconds. You looked at him, stunned, for a moment. "Is that what you wanted to hear? Are you happy now?" he said before walking away into the party, leaving you standing in the hallway, unsure of what to say or do.
ᯓ★ ANTON
You and Anton had been best friends for as long as you could remember. You went to the same school, and your mothers were close friends, so you spent many summers together. Even after graduating, you both ended up attending the same university, so you still saw each other daily.
It felt like you two were inseparable—until you started getting to know another guy. It took you a while to tell Anton about him since you’d never really talked about that kind of stuff before. When you finally did, you thought he took it well at first, but you noticed him starting to act strange, becoming more distant.
Although he said nothing was wrong, he always had excuses to avoid walking home with you, claiming he had plans to study with classmates in a café, something you found odd since he didn’t like studying in public. Even so, you decided to trust him and give him the space he seemed to need.
One day, as you were heading home, you spotted Anton walking in the distance. It had been a while since you’d seen him in person, so you decided to catch up with him. He smiled briefly when he saw you, but then quickly looked away and started walking faster.
"Anton, I feel like you’ve been acting weird these past weeks. Is something wrong?"
"Huh? No, you know… exams, new people… It’s just that. Nothing’s wrong."
"Are you sure? I feel like you’re pulling away from me, and if I’ve done something wrong, I want to know."
"Nothing’s wrong, y/n. You’ve just got other friends now, and I get it," he mumbled coldly. You stood there, thinking for a moment. In high school, you’d made new friends, and yet you and Anton still acted like you always had. Why was this time different?
"I feel like you’ve been off ever since I told you about Ricky…"
"Y/n. I just… don’t want to talk about it."
"Well, I do, Anton. I feel like you’re being selfish, only thinking about how you feel and not about how you’re making me feel," you said, frustrated, stopping in the middle of the street. Anton turned to look at you, serious.
"Well, I’m sorry I fell in love with you, okay? But it happened, and I can’t do shit about it."
"You… what?"
Anton stared at you for a few seconds, pressing his lips together before turning his back on you.
"Forget it, y/n. I’m just tired from all the studying."
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