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fangirl-dot-com · 3 months

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Chapter 20 - Backstreet's Back - All Right!

Why this sat in the drafts for so long, I do not know so I apologize to everyone! I've been super busy with college and haven't had time to write much...but here we are

Today was an ABSOLUTE fever dream and we all need a little somethin somethin. So I present to you - the backstreet boys (formula 1 edition)

RACES SKIPPED ARE CANADA AND SPAIN (side note - Arthur hasn't been able to be at a race since Monaco)

Haven't been able to say this in a while but I hope you enjoy! Remember that comments, questions, concerns, reblogs, and likes are always appreciated!! Love you all :D

TAG LIST IS CLOSED

You had gotten to the paddock super early once again. But that was only because Lando and Oscar has asked you to hang out, and you’d never skip out on some good times with your papaya friends. Andrea loved you and often let you sit in his office if you were bored. Actually, all of the team principals seemed to do that.

Even Toto, which was weird considering you stole on of his driver’s car with his other driver.

Like always, you found yourself killing some time by playing Subway Surfers. You were about to get a new high score when two shadows covered your screen, making your character get arrested.

“Hey, you made me lose my score!”

You were about to tear them a new one, but your face had a shocked look once you finally pointed your head up.

“What the f-!”

“Has anyone seen the kid?” was a question that Max did not imagine that he’d hear first thing in the morning when he arrived on Sunday.

His eyes glanced to the corner that you were almost always in, listening to music. But, the corner was void of any rookie teammate. He looked toward Christian, who asked the initial question.

“Have you checked her driver’s room?”

The Brit sighed, “We checked her room, your room, hospitality, and even the Ferrari garage, Williams garage, and McLaren garage. No one has seen her, yet the log says that she’s already here because she tapped in at the entrance.”

Well, Max was stumped. And he knew why Christian was wanting to see you. They were finally in the Red Bull Ring, the home race for the entire team. It was a big deal, and Christian didn’t want you to get overwhelmed. There was a lot on their shoulders. Charles had pole, but Max was right behind him. Charles was always strong in the Red Bull Ring, almost winning in 2019 and then winning in 2022. The Ferraris had done well the last two races, and you two needed to hold them off. Thankfully, you were right behind Max in P3, but Carlos was behind you in P4. A Ferrari sandwich if you will.

Everyone was kind of counting on the both of you for a Red Bull 1-2.

“Have you seen Vito or Mitch?”

“We’re right here.”

The Dutchman turned around to see your race engineer and manager, but you were nowhere to be found. He opened his mouth to say something but Vito held out a hand.

“Yes, we’ve already tried to call her and Arthur. Both phones went to voicemail.”

“Oh god.” Max shivered. If you weren’t picking up, and your boyfriend wasn’t picking up. Well, he didn’t want to imagine what you were up to. Just as he was about to suggest looking in the garages again, Lando popped his head in.

“Have any of you seen Bug? She was supposed to meet up with me and Oscar earlier and she never showed up!” the curly-haired Brit whined.

Now, that had Max even more worried. You never skipped hanging out with your favorite Brit (after Christian) or Aussie. Before he was about to start getting a search party together, Mitch suddenly made a weird face.

“Do any of you hear that?”

The five went silent to try to hear whatever Mitch had heard.

Lando’s face scrunched. “Sounds like the Backstreet Boys?”

The group quickly walked over to the opening and didn’t know whether to be relived or just upright confused.

Because there you were, holding a giant boombox (God only knows where you got that) with sunglasses on, with Arthur to your right and one Ollie Bearman to your left. The soundtrack was indeed Backstreet Boys, namely the 1997 hit song “Everybody.”

As Max learned at Vegas, you definitely knew how to make an entrance. By now, most of the drivers had walked out of their garages to see the commotion.

And much to Max’s surprise, Nico Rosberg, Mark Webber, and Jensen Button walked up to the three of you, giant smiles on their faces. The song had ended a bit ago, and you handed the now silent boombox back to the German. The Australian of the group gave both Ollie and Arthur pretty big hugs.

“Well, Oscar lost his grid dad,” Lando said, earning a hit from said Aussie.

“Hey! He was never my grid dad in the first place.”

The now group of six made their way to the giant group of drivers, including but not limited to: Max, Lando, Charles, Carlos, Logan, Lewis, George, and Oscar (in no particular order). Arthur’s hand was behind your back as you enthusiastically talked to the very tall British brunet dressed in Ferrari red.

“I cannot believe that you come here, apparently to see me, and say that you need to be in the Ferrari garage! Arthur’s even going to be in the Red Bull one!” they heard you whine as the group got closer.

Ollie rolled his eyes. “That’s only because he’s your boy-oof. You did NOT have to hit me.” He glared down at you as he rubbed his side.

“Yes I did.” Your arms crossed as you finally stopped in front of the giant group, who were all staring at you. “Hey guys, what’s up?”

Lando mirrored your stance, even popping his hip out. “What’s up?” he jokingly mocking. “We were supposed to go to breakfast?” He pointed between him and Oscar.

A look of realization glossed over your face as you looked at the papaya drivers.

“Oooohhhh, yeah. Sorry. Uh, their fault?” You pointed at Ollie and Arthur, who both looked betrayed.

“Our fault?” Ollie squawked. “You were the one who dragged us to breakfast!”

“You had breakfast?”

“Yes Lando, I had breakfast.”

The younger Monegasque silenced you. “The big boys are talking. And then you dragged us to find Nico because you thought he had a boombox.”

“The big boys? Seriously Thur? I can take you any day.” You glared up at him.

“Oh yeah?” He cocked an eyebrow and smirked down at you, getting in your face to really show the height difference.

That’s it.

You suddenly jumped on him, bring him to the floor. The Max and Charles jumped into action, trying to get you separated. Ollie just watched with a giant grin on his face, laughing at the two of you.

“Ollie, kindly shut up?”

“Yes mom.”

The two of you were separated quickly, because you really didn’t have much malice toward your boyfriend.

“I totally won.”

“Kid, you lost horribly.”

“Max, has anyone ever told you that you don’t have to say everything that comes to your mind?”

Charles, Lewis, Lando, Oscar, Logan, and George all nodded in agreement while Max stared at them with wide eyes.

“You all agree?!”

“Can I have my drivers back please?!” Christian suddenly yelled, making everyone look at him.

“Please take her. She’s rabid.” Arthur pushed you forward, making you take a swing at him (that he was ready for and dodged rather easily).

You stuck your tongue out at him, before giving Ollie a hug and gently guiding him to Charles.

Your finger pointed at the red-clad driver. “Take care of my son please, even if you are the enemy. He likes his sandwiches without the crust and needs a nap with his blanket in 5 hours.”

“Gosse?”

“Aw you brought my blanket?”

Ollie’s face flushed red as he realized everyone’s eyes were on him. Charles just looked worried as though someone just handed him an actual child and told him “good luck.”

You turned to follow your team principal, who was muttering something about you giving him even more gray hairs every weekend. “By Ollie! Have fun!”

The parade went by smoothly. You laughed a lot when Nico brought the boombox to the interviews. He had a lot of questions for you and Max, since it was the team race today, which made your anxiety skyrocket just a bit.

You and Arthur were able to have just a few minutes of alone time back in your driver’s room.

Because this was a surprise race, Arthur didn’t have to work or be with his brother. So, he was all yours for the entirety of Sunday. However, your excitement didn’t last long as he told you that he had to go back to Switzerland for more testing right after.

You sighed as you pressed your head against his chest, his arms around you. “If I had known that you’d be gone so much, I wouldn’t have called Seb and just have kept you as my WAG.”

Arthur sadly smiled down at you. “I know chéri, but I like testing. It gives me a purpose.”

Another sigh escaped your lips as you finally met his gaze. He cooed as he saw tears forming in your eyes.

“What is wrong mon fille jolie?”

You let a few tears escape, but they didn’t get very far as Arthur wiped them off as quickly as they fell.

“I just miss you and I miss home,” you confessed, hiding your face in his neck as you stepped closer. Arthur gently brought you over to the couch and readjusted you so that you were just lying on his front.

His hands gently ran through your hair. He knew you needed to be in the car soon, but he wouldn’t let you go without trying to console you.

You continued, “And I know that we just had summer break not too long ago, but it wasn’t enough.”

Arthur just listened, know you needed to spill to feel better.

“Everyone is counting on me to bring in a 1-2 since it’s the home race. But the last two races weren’t the best. I barely got any points.” You muttered the last part, “I’m never going to win a race by now.”

“Hey, none of that.” Arthur lifted your face so that you could look in his eyes. His were filled with determination. “Do you know how amazing you are? You podiumed at your first race and are fourth in the championship. As a rookie! You are incredible. Parfois j’aimerais que tu te voies comme je te vois.” (translation: Sometimes I wish you saw yourself as I see you.)

You huffed. “I still can’t understand you, but I’m hoping that was a compliment.”

“It was.”

He moved his head down to place a gentle kiss on your lips. At the contact, a sigh expelled from your nose.

It felt so good to be so loved.

If someone was to write a poem, about how Arthur looked at you and how you looked at Arthur, their pens would be void of ink and the stars would be shadowed by their words.

The two of you were so lost in each other that a knock at the door scared you both and ended up with you on the floor.

Mitch poked her head in before shaking it slightly.

“I don’t even want to know what you were up to, but Y/n needs to get in the car.”

You quickly stood, with Arthur’s help, and grabbed your helmet, making your way back into the garage. Like clockwork, the Monegasque took your headpiece and gently made sure that it was safely secure. And, with a kiss on the “forehead,” he sent you off. He could tell that you didn’t really want to get in the car. Which was understandable. It wasn’t very often that Arthur saw you not want to drive. But he knew that you were going to be amazing today.

Starting Grid:

Charles Leclerc

Max Verstappen

Y/n L/n

Carlos Sainz

Oscar Piastri

Pierre Gasly

Daniel Ricciardo

Lewis Hamilton

Yuki Tsunoda

Alex Albon

Lando Norris

Logan Sargeant

Valtteri Bottas

Fernando Alonso

George Russell

Lance Stroll

Zhou Guanyu

Kevin Magnussen

Esteban Ocon

Nico Hulkenberg

You rolled your tires as you waited for the lights to go out. They were tense, but that helped you be ready to press the accelerator. If you weren’t tense, you knew there’d be something wrong. If you felt high-strung outside of the car, inside was 10 times worse.

All the pressure, all the doubts, all the hopes and dreams – were on your shoulders.

And you weren’t going to let them down.

“And it’s lights out and away we go for the 2024 Austrian Grand Prix! Charles Leclerc has a strong start in the initial few seconds, but Max Verstappen seems to be on a mission to turn this into a win. Verstappen gets down the inside and pushes Leclerc a bit wide to gain a position on the pole sitter. We both know that he will probably start to bolt in just a few corners.

“His rookie teammate Y/n L/n seems to also have the upper hand against the other Ferrari of Carlos Sainz as she seems to do what she does best – go around the outside on that initial turn 1 and somehow make it out in front.

“Now the track is a bit rainy, and we saw what happened the last time that happened, so we’ll keep an eye on our Red Bull number 2.”

You felt water droplets fall into your visor as you were picking up speed on the Ferrari in front of you. You knew that this “dirty air” would be much worse than regular, since it was contaminated with water as well.

You pressed your radio button when it seemed almost impossible to catch up to the red car. The rain had also stopped so your intermediates were getting dangerous to drive with.

“Mitch what is the plan because I cannot catch up to Leclerc in these conditions.”

“Do you think you can go the rest of the way in mediums?”

You thought for a moment. You couldn’t go the rest of the way on softs, as they would degrade too quickly. And hards took forever to warm up.

“Yeah. I can do that.”

“Then box ahead of Max. You’ll come out right behind him. So, he’ll give you a tow and then when he boxes, you’ll do the same. Max has priority.”

“Copy.”

You quickly pitted the next lap. The Red Bull team seemed to be on fire as you were in and out in a few seconds. You didn’t know, but they somehow set the record for a new pit stop – 1.789 seconds.

The crowd got excited as you suddenly appeared behind Max and in front of the number sixteen car.

With Max in front of you, the tow was very helpful as you started to build bigger gap. You guessed that Ferrari must have messed up Charles’s pit stop as Lando’s papaya car was now behind you, instead of Charles.

You felt bad, but that’s on his team.

However, Lando was on much fresher tyres that you were, and he was gaining in the last ten laps of the race. You really tried to not let him overtake, but he did…with five laps to go.

Mitch suddenly came over the radio. “Don’t push it like last time. We don’t need another Suzuka. Third place will be just fine.”

But you weren’t having any of that. You never responded and just kept at the pace you were going, trying to get the maximum out of the car.

You hadn’t noticed, but everyone else in the garages could see that you were surprisingly gaining on Lando. Ollie watched as you were making qualifying times per lap. The crew was holding on to each other, cheering you on. With each tenth gained, the noise grew louder.

You saw the last lap flag, and you knew you had to keep your elbows out.

“And we are coming up on the last lap and L/n has somehow made it back into Norris’s DRS. She tried to get around the outside on the first turn, but is not successful. Yet, she’s keeping herself well in the DRS and doesn’t make try to make a move on the straights.

“Here comes the last real corner of the circuit and only a small straight for an overtake.

“SHE’S GOING FOR IT!

“IT’S A PHOTO FINISH…DO WE HAVE RESULTS?”

You slowed down your car as you drove around for the cool down lap. Your finger was jamming the radio button.

“Do we have it!?”

Arthur was biting his fingernails as everyone in the garage was waiting for the results. The mechanics were happy with another P1 finish from Max, but they were on baited breath to see if you had almost done the impossible and finished in a 1-2 sequence. A steward walked over to the pit wall and gave Christian the paper with the results.

A giant smile crossed his face as he was the one to give you the news.

“Congrats kid. It’s a 1-2 finish.”

Race Results

Max Verstappen – 25 points

Y/n L/n – 18 points

Lando Norris – 15 points

Charles Leclerc – 12 points

Carlos Sainz – 11 points

Pierre Gasly + fastest lap – 9 points

Oscar Piastri – 6 points

Lewis Hamilton – 4 points

Yuki Tsunoda – 2 points

Alex Albon – 1 point

Logan Sargeant

George Russell

Lance Stroll

Fernando Alonso

Nico Hulkenberg

Valtteri Bottas

Esteban Ocon

Kevin Magnussen

Zhou Guanyu

Daniel Ricciardo

Champions Standings

Max Verstappen – 244 points

Charles Leclerc – 201 points

Y/n L/n – 124 points

Lando Norris – 115 points

Carlos Sainz – 91 points

Lewis Hamilton – 70 points

Oscar Piastri – 68 points

Alex Albon – 39 points

George Russell – 36 points

Fernando Alonso – 35 points

Logan Sargeant – 29 points

Daniel Ricciardo – 23 points

Lance Stroll – 15 points

Pierre Gasly – 12 points

Yuki Tsunoda – 8 points

Nico Hulkenberg

Kevin Magnussen

Zhou Guanyu

Valtteri Bottas

Esteban Ocon

Constructors Standings

Red Bull – 383 points

Ferrari – 292 points

McLaren – 194 points

Mercedes – 106 points

Aston Martin – 50 points

Williams – 41 points

Alpha Tauri – 31 points

Alpine – 12 points

Alpha Romeo

Haas

“OH YEAH BABY. LET’S GO!” you yelled over your radio. The crew in the garage stood up from their seats and began to hug each other.

“Oh man, that was, wow! Can’t believe that. Great job everyone. Is this what winning feels like?” you asked as you took the cooldown lap, yet there was no answer. Everyone was too busy watching that final overtake and celebrating about it.

Arthur just watched your car take a lap on the screen. He softly whispered, “I knew you could do it.” The love in his eyes could have poured out if love was a physical thing.

Mitch came over the radio as you were beginning to pull in. “And congrats kid. You have surpassed Lewis Hamilton’s rookie point record.”

“LET’S GO! THAT'S THE SHIT!”

“You really need to stop hanging out with Max all the time. He’s teaching you bad words.”

You smirked under your helmet. “I’m a girl whose friends are dominantly male. Mitch you even curse over the radio.”

Max almost didn’t want to look at whatever car was in the second place spot. He knew you’d be devastated if you weren’t there. Last he knew, Lando was behind him with you on his tail. It was your helmet that caught his attention. His body turned to see you standing on your car in the P2 spot.

His heart dropped, but in a good way. He watched you jump off and jump into the arms of the crew. Head pats were definitely deserved as you tried to touch as much of the team as possible. He laughed when you purposefully hung off the banner, just to get closer to the crew who were a bit further back.

He watched you and Mitch hold out your arms (kind of like Lando and Carlos at the Singapore Grand Prix), mirror each other, and then hug it out. He swears he saw the older lady wipe away a few tears.

Next was Christian, who gave you a big hug as Max finally made his way to the wall of crew. It was his turn for hugs, high-fives, and helmet pats.

You had just gotten to Arthur, who held onto you a bit longer than everyone else.

Just for the two of you, he whispered, “If you didn’t have you helmet on, I’d kiss you right here in front of all these people.”

Your cheeks were bright red under the helmet.

Ollie, who had been able to escape from the prancing horse, had also come to congratulate you. His hug was a tag shorter than Arthur’s, but you knew he did it to make your previous hug not look as suspicious.

You had been on the podium time and time before, but this felt different. You don’t know if it was the adrenaline, the sun, or the happiness that ran through you veins that made the trophy a bit lighter or the bubbly a bit sweeter: maybe it was all three.

You were still hungry for a win, starving, but this was just the snack to tide you over.

Down below, Arthur and Ollie had somehow gotten a hand on the boombox once again. You could barely hear it on the podium, but you had a guess. Suddenly, the music screeched to a halt, making everyone confused. You watched as your two boys had a knowing smirk on their faces. The same smirk slowly crept on your face as well.

You turned to Max and Lando, who looked equally confused. You held your trophy to your lips, as though it were a microphone. You pointed at the two men, and lip-synced the words.

“BACKSTREET’S BACK - ALL RIGHT!”

redbullracing has posted

redbullracing 1-2 in the house! The Red Bull Ring was shining as our drivers carried home two new trophies! Congrats to y/n.89 for her first record as she surpasses Lewis Hamilton's rookie points with 124 points total!

liked by y/n.89, maxverstappen, lewishamilton, and 4,203,893 others

y/n.nation THAT'S WHAT I'M TALKING ABOUT

y/n_on_top that fight for the win will go in the history books mark my words

landonorris please tell your drivers to slow down so the rest of us can have a chance

charles_leclerc I second this y/n.89 idk, you all just sound like misogynists here... maxverstappen1 what she said

lewishamilton I knew someone would have to beat it. congrats kid

y/n.89 thank you Lew! (someone should take notes ahem landonorris) landonorris sure bug, sure

redbullfan 1-2! 1-2! 1-2!

y/n.lover she is legit currently in p3 for the constructor's championship...what do they feed her?

y/n.89 the tears of my enemies (Charles cries a lot) charles_leclerc HEY redbullracing lots of energy drinks and protein!

arthurxy/n Arthur back in the rb garage - too bad ollie couldn't join them

y/n.89 has posted

y/n.89 my boys are BACK

liked by y/n.nation, boxbox_express, change_ur_f-car, and 85,395 others

y/n&co God I've seen what you've done for others

rookiefan I kinda feel bad for her boyfriend...but at the same time Arthur is more than happy to show her off (her bf needs to take notes!!)

olliebearman MOM ON PODIUM

y/n.89 did you have a nice nap? olliebearman yes until charles_leclerc forgot my blanket y/n.89 when I find you charles_leclerc arthur_leclerc Charles you better run charles_leclerc HE'S 18?? WHY DOES HE STILL NEED A BLANKET AND NAP y/n.89 you're 26???? why do you still need to call my teammate goodnight? lestappenlove and I OOP

prema_y/n anywayyyyy the second pic is hilarious

Arthur.nation thur is glowing, wonder if he has a gf??

arthurgirly4life I VOLUNTEER AS TRIBUTE

boxbox_express the trio no one knew we needed, but the trio that we deserve

arthur_leclerc has posted

arthur_leclerc a driver, a reserve driver, and an endurance driver walk into a bar...

liked by thurthur, ferrari_fanfest, porsche, and 102,284 others

arthur4porsche this makes no sense but it's hysterical??

y/n.89 ollie actually smacked his head on the bar

olliebearman YOU SAID YOU WOULDN'T TELL - DAD, MOM IS MAKING FUN OF ME AGAIN arthur_leclerc it was funny? olliebearman grandpa? charles_leclerc yes? olliebearman not you, you forgot my blanket. the better one maxverstappen1 take that Charles

arthur&crew if max and Charles are grandpa...does that make Christian great-grandpa??

christianhorner sadly yes y/n.89 SADLY?? YOU MADE HIM CRYYYY charles_leclerc w o w , could never at Ferrari y/n.89 Charlie, you cried yesterday

redbullracing maybe the driver should become our photographer?

olliebearman has posted

olliebearman why is it that when we're together, we're always eating??

liked by ferrari, y/n.89, logansargeant, and 83,294 others

olliebear WHAT ARE THESE PICTURES I'M DYING

arthur_leclerc blocked and reported for that last picture

olliebearman why? trying to look good for someone?? arthur_leclerc say goodbye to the blanket olliebearman too late, your brother lost it :( arthur.nation HELLO??

y/n.89 I look sexy

olliebearman your boyfriend sure thinks so :D y/n.89 what Arthur said, blocked and reported

prematrio what are these comments??

y/n&co shhhhh just let them

oscarpiastri guess the invites got lost in the mail??

landonorris same here... y/n.89 you weren't in prema? kimi.antonelli thanks for the food mom! olliebearman brother? maxverstappen1 here we go again

change_ur_f-car what a time to be alive

TAG LIST: @fionaschicken @glitterquadricorn @laura-naruto-fan1998 @treehouse-mouse @sam-is-lost @kagatinkita @fangirl125reader @megatrilss1885 @myxticmoon @angsthology @cmleitora @agent-curt-mega @graciewrote @ashy-kit @slutofmultifandom @aexitizen-ln4 @sugarvibez @vellicora @thatgirlthatreadswattpad @cashtons-wife @hoetel-manager @xcharlottemikaelsonx @jayda12 @ilove-tswizzle @justme2042 @itsjustkhaos @nikfigueiredo @stopeatread @cha-hot @sadg3 @iloveyou3000morgan @s4turnsl0ver @alessioayla @torchbearerkyle @leptitlu @awekbachira @shreks-sugar-daddy @v1naco @stan-josie @mellowarcadefun @badassturtle13 @beskardroids @callisposts @poppyalice2001 @juniper-july19

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orchidniins · 2 months

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Serendipitous Beginnings Pt. 1 | Arthur Frederick

Summary: Y/N moves to London to pursue her dreams and reconnect with her best friend But what she doesn't expect is a cute neighbor and a new exciting chapter of her life. Pairings: ArthurTV x F!Reader Warnings: Fluff Word Count: 6.4k A/N: FIRST FIC!!!!!! I’m so down bad for Arthur and just wish there was more on tumblr about this literal walking green flag of a man. I wanted this to be a cute little fic. But I feel like I got a little carried away with the story. But I also think that I need to start somewhere. Maybe the next fics I write after this will be a little more to the point. The more I write, the better I’ll get. I'm always open to suggestions and requests. Hope you enjoy!!

Part 2

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

The bustling streets of London welcome you as you step out of the taxi. Having grown up in a small town just outside of London, you’d always fantasized about what life in the big city was like. Sure, your past academic pursuits had given you the opportunity to live all across the world, but London was always the ultimate destination - the place you dreamed of settling down in.

Securing a spot in the archeology PHD program of your dreams was the culmination of years of hardwork and determination. Those late-night study sessions, caffeine-fueled cramming marathons and years spent away from home were finally paying off. It marked the beginning of an exciting new chapter.

Like clockwork, Sienna bursts out of the main entrance of the building and engulfs you in a bone-crushing hug.

Sienna and you went way back. From the eager little girl who lived next door to becoming your closest confidante, she’d been through everything with you. Despite the miles between you over the years – ever since you left for the States to pursue your bachelor's degree and she moved to London for her’s – she remained one of the few constants in your life.

Your day wasn’t complete without a minimum three-hour facetime session. So naturally, after your family, she was the first person you informed of your move. True to form, she’d already cleaned out her spare bedroom and sent you a photo of the door adorned with a makeshift sign that read "Y/N’s Bedroom." It was safe to say that you were excited to reconnect with your childhood best friend and focus on your work. Little did you know, your life was about to take an unexpected turn.

“I can’t believe you're finally here!”, Sienna exclaimed, finally letting you out of her embrace. “I can’t believe it either! I’d started to believe that you only existed on my phone screen”, you replied, pulling her into another hug, which she gladly returned.

“Come on now, we have much to catch up on”, pulling out of the embrace, Sienna grabs one of your oversized suitcases and starts lugging it into the building, you follow closely with a huge grin on your face.

As you entered the apartment, you couldn't help but admire the cozy atmosphere. Sienna always had an eclectic taste, much like yours. She was a bit of a collector and she always made sure to keep and display the souvenirs you sent her from all the museums and dig sites that you had visited and worked at.

You look to the side of the living room that was littered with boxes, “All your stuff got here a few days ago”, Sienna informs you as she shuts the door behind her.

“There should be one or two boxes coming in today that I shipped out a little later”, I mentioned, Sienna nods in understanding. “While we’re on the topic of shipping boxes, have you had a chance to send that cretin’s stuff back to him?” you ask her as you kick off your shoes and take your coat off.

“Ugh, I don’t want to talk about Joey,” Sienna groaned. “He said he’d come by to pick his stuff up later, so I’ve just left a box by the door”, she added, plopping down on the couch and signaling for you to join her. ”But what I really want to know is, how’s your love life? What happened to that guy you were talking to last month? The one from your internship?”, she asks, a curious glint in her eyes.

“Hmmm, yeah, things didn’t work out”, you drawled out. “He was really nice when it was just the two of us, and he wasn’t too bad in bed either, but once we were at our work, things got weird. He’d treat me completely different. Honestly he was a real prick," you explained, throwing an arm around her. "No more guys for me. I guess it’s just you and me, babe," you sighed, earning a laugh from her.

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

The next hour or two passed in unpacking and catching up when you received a notification on your phone saying a package had been dropped off at the downstairs lobby. "The rest of my stuff just got delivered. I’m heading downstairs," you announced to Sienna, who had just ventured into the kitchen to get dinner started.

You spot the box as soon as you exit the elevator. You sign for the package at the front desk and pick up the heavy box. Perhaps thinking you could manage a nearly 40kg box full of books by yourself wasn’t the best idea after all.

Lost in the effort of balancing the hefty box, you were completely oblivious to your surroundings. As soon as you turn to head towards the elevator, you feel yourself colliding with what felt like someone's side, causing you to stumble back a step. The impact was enough to make you wince, but that was the least of your worries.

With a dreadful realization, you watch in horror as the bottom of the box gives way, sending a cascade of books tumbling onto the stranger's feet.

“Oh my god, I’m so, so sorry,” you begin to profusely apologize to the man in front of you who is now bent over, clutching his ankle. Quickly chucking the box to the side, you kneel down to inspect his foot. ”Please tell me you’re okay. I’m so sorry. I should have been paying attention,” you continue your string of apologies, hoping that the man wasn’t hurt too badly.

The man winces slightly as you examine his foot, but instantly looks down at you with a reassuring smile. "Hey, don't worry about it. I'm okay, really," he tries to assure you, trying to alleviate your guilt. His smile catches you off guard, you stay frozen for a second, momentarily captivated by his warm smile and almost sparkling brown eyes. However, you quickly shake yourself out of it, realizing that this might not be the best time.

"Liar," you retorted with a hint of skepticism, knowing very well that anyone in their right mind would have cursed you out by now.

The man furrows his eyebrows and lets out a light chuckle. "No, really, I'm okay," he insists, standing up straight to show you that he was fine. You couldn't help but exhale a sigh of relief as you fully stood up as well, grateful that your clumsiness hadn't caused any serious harm.

With a slight laugh, the man gestures towards the pile of books on the ground. "Either you have a shopping problem or you just moved in," he remarks, a playful glint in his eyes.

You laugh in response, shaking your head. "I do have a shopping problem, but this is from just having moved in. My fault for thinking I'd be able to manage," you admit sheepishly.

You bend down to reach for the box to put it back together. You're surprised when the man gets down to your level and starts helping you out.

Mumbling a small thanks, you both begin placing the books back into the reassembled box. As you do this, you take a moment to observe his face. He looks to be around your age, with messy brown hair, and honestly, he was kind of cute.

The man picks up a book titled "A History of Archaeological Thought" and reads the title out in interest, quickly flipping through the pages. “I've actually read this one," he remarks, holding up one of your books on ancient roman archeology "Found it quite interesting."

You look at him slightly surprised and say, "Oh, you have? One of my professors from uni recommended it to me. It's really fascinating."

"These are all archaeology and history textbooks," he observes, gesturing to the pile of books.

You put the last book in the box and stand up along with him, laughing slightly. "Haha, yes, some of them are old textbooks from university. The rest are just stuff I've collected over the years."

He looks at you in awe and exclaims, "You're an archaeologist? That's so cool! I've never met an archaeologist before." The sparkle in his eyes returns, and you almost feel yourself slightly melt at the sight of them. You find yourself flashing him a wide smile. There's something about the genuine curiosity and admiration in his gaze that warms your heart.

Before you can say something, your phone rings. Excusing yourself for a moment, you check your phone and see that Sienna is calling, likely worried by how long it's taken you to pick up a delivery. "Sorry, just a minute," you say to the man, turning to the side to answer your cell. He nods in understanding.

"Hey, Sienna," you answer.

"Girl, what happened? Where are you?" Sienna's voice comes through, concerned.

"Long story, but I'll be up in a minute," you assure her.

"Please, come quick. Joey just texted me; he said he'll be here in like 5 minutes to pick up his stuff and I really don't want to be alone when he gets here," Sienna explains anxiously.

"Ok, yeah, I’ll be right up" you respond, sensing the urgency in her voice.

You hang up the call, tucking your phone quickly into your back pocket, you turn back to the handsome stranger. "Sorry about that, but I actually need to go," you apologize, feeling a twinge of disappointment that your conversation was just cut short.

"Ha, don't worry about it," he reassures you with a warm smile.

You apologize again for his foot and thank him for the help. As you go to bend down to pick up the box, he beats you to it, lifting it effortlessly. "Oh, you don't have to," you insist, but he shakes his head with a small laugh.

"Don't want to risk you possibly injuring someone else," he quips playfully.

You look at him with mock hurt and reply, "Rude!" before bursting into laughter, appreciating his kindness despite what had just happened.

As he begins to walk towards the elevator, you follow suit. You suddenly realize just how warm your cheeks had gotten and you quickly fan your face to cool down before you enter the elevator. Once inside, you press the button for your floor and glance around awkwardly, unsure of what to say next. The tension is palpable, but there's also a subtle excitement lingering in the air.

Arriving at your floor, you lead the way to your new flat, with him following without hesitation. Standing outside your door, you turn to him and say, "Well, this is me. Thanks again, you really didn't have to."

He responds with a gentle smile, "Again, it wasn't a bother. I'm glad to help." He sets the box down next to your door.

You stand in silence for a moment, unsure of what to say next when it suddenly dawns on you that you didn’t know the man’s name. Just as you’re about to introduce yourself, your attention is abruptly pulled away by the sound of your name being called from a distance.

"Y/N!" You spot Sienna's nightmare of an ex strolling towards your door, and you know that if you don't go inside right away, Sienna would probably kill you.

Quickly moving to unlock your door, you turn around to the attractive man and flash him a final smile. "Well, I appreciate the help. I'll see you around," you say hastily.

"Goodbye," He replies with a nod, understanding the urgency in your departure.

With that, you pick up the box and swiftly slip into your door, the sound of it shutting behind you signaling the end of your unexpected encounter.

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

A week had passed since your fateful encounter with your charming neighbor, yet his presence continued lingering in your mind, a constant reminder of your missed opportunity to exchange names. Mentally scolding yourself for the oversight, you couldn't help but replay the encounter in your head repeatedly, wishing you had seized the chance to learn more about him.

The past week kept you fairly busy, preparing for the start of term on Monday. Despite that, the thoughts of him persisted more than you'd like to admit. Each time you stepped into the elevator or the lobby of your apartment, you secretly hoped for another chance meeting. Though you were someone who always tried to look presentable when stepping out, you found yourself putting in extra effort, something that didn’t go unnoticed by your flatmate.

"This usually isn't like you. Hoping to run into someone?" Sienna teases you with a knowing smirk as you prepare for the day ahead. With an interview for a teaching assistant position in the morning, lunch plans with your future classmates and some pending errands, today was shaping up to be quite hectic.

"You know," you explain to Sienna, "I just need to meet a bunch of people today, trying to make a good first impression that's all." Sienna's excitement bubbles as she responds, "Speaking of meeting new people, we're going to a party tonight!"

Usually, you were pretty social, but with all the tasks on your list today, the only thing getting you through the day is the thought of getting home and sinking into your bed. "I have quite a long day ahead, and all I want is to rest once I'm back," you confess to Sienna. But she's the persistent type that doesn’t take no for an answer, "You're in London now. New place. New life. You need to make some new friends as well," she insists. "Come on, it'll be fun. You can meet some of my friends."

"Fine, I'll see if I'm feeling up to it once I'm back in the evening," you reluctantly agree and bid her goodbye. “Good luck on your interview!” Sienna screams as you head out the door.

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

You return home to a dimly lit flat, only illuminated by the lamp next to the couch and the light emanating from Sienna’s room. You feel a wave of relief as you kick off your shoes, finally able to give your feet a break after being on them all day. You attempt to move as quietly as possible, hoping to sneak past Sienna and retreat to your bedroom for some much-needed rest. However, it seems as though she possesses some sort of mind reading ability, as she calls out to you in a sing-songy tone, "Hey Y/N… Don't even think about sneaking off. Get in here."

You weakly protest, "But…" before Sienna shuts down any objections with a firm, "No buts. Get in here." Giving up, you toss your purse and the shopping bags onto the couch and reluctantly make your way into her room.

Standing in the doorway of her bedroom, you offer a half-hearted, "You called?"

"Yes, get your cute butt in here and get ready. You can borrow one of my tops if you want," Sienna responds. Though you pout for a moment, Sienna's pointed glare leaves you with no room for argument. You finally agree, "Fine… I'll go put something on. I'll be right back." Sienna nods, continuing to put on her mascara.

Returning to your bedroom, you rummage through a box of clothes that you had yet to unpack. Finally settling on a pair of black wide-leg jeans, a black bralette, and a sheer black top to layer over it. Quickly changing, you grab your makeup bag and head back into Sienna's room.

"You look so hot! If I were a guy, I'd be all over you," she says with a wink. "I know right!" you playfully reply as you start to retouch your makeup beside her in the mirror.

As you apply a fresh coat of lipstick, you inquire, "Where is this party by the way?" Sienna responds, "Oh, it's right upstairs. It's a house party at my friend George’s place."

"Cool, but I don't want to stay too long. I actually feel like I'll drop dead any second after the long day I've had," you tell Sienna, hoping she'll understand your need for an early night, but you can't help but feel a twang of hope in your heart that you might run into the cute brown-eyed stranger there.

Sienna turns to you with a playful salute, saying, "Yes, ma'am. We'll just have a few drinks, mingle around. We won't be there long." Her words reassure you, and you offer her an appreciative smile as the two of you share a laugh.

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

As you and Sienna stand outside of George's flat, you hear the sounds of laughter and music echo from inside. With an encouraging grin, Sienna grabs you by the arms and pushes open the door, pulling you into the flat.

Your eyes scan the room, taking in the sights and sounds of the party. Despite your fatigue, a spark of excitement blooms within you; it's been a while since you've had the opportunity to drink a little and let loose.

Sienna's eyes scan the room. and an excited smile lights up her face as she spots someone. "George!", she calls out enthusiastically, waving to catch the attention of a brown haired man.

He gives Sienna a slightly intoxicated smile as he stumbles over to where the two of you stand. "Hi! You made it!," he greets her with a hug.

Sienna responds with a smile, saying, "Of course! Any excuse to get drunk," as she pulls away and turns slightly towards you. "George, this is my other half, Y/N," she introduces, prompting you to flash him a smile and lean in for a side hug, which he reciprocates.

"Hey, Y/N, how are you finding London so far?" George inquires, prompting you to reply, "Oh, it's been great, and it's a plus living with Sienna…"

"Well, let me introduce you to the rest of the gang and get you guys a drink. Come." He leads the two of you near the kitchen, where you see two men chatting with solo cups in hand. George gestures towards the drinks and encourages you to help yourselves, handing you each a cup as well.

You quickly fix yourself a drink and take a sip, the cold liquid adding some life back into you. You turn around to see Sienna and George now in a conversation with the two other guys. You grab your drink and head over to join them.

"Guys, this is Y/N," Sienna introduces you to the two men in front of you, slinging an arm around you in the process. "Y/N, this is Chris and this is Arthur," Sienna continues, "They live here too. We have another Arthur; he should be around here somewhere," George adds as he takes a look around the room.

Arthur extends his hand and says, "It's nice to finally meet you. Sienna doesn't shut up about you." Chris chimes in, "Yeah, we know everything… even the thing with the door." You look at him in shock and lightly laugh, replying, "Yeah....I am not drunk enough to get into the whole door story." you say taking a large swig of your drink, earning a laugh from the group.

30 minutes and many vodka shots later, you get to learn a little more about the boys. The conversation is flowing and filled with laughter. You find out that all of them are YouTubers and create content on the internet. George makes videos on YouTube and Tik-Tok, and Chris made football videos. Arthur, in particular, was a musician, which you spent a few good minutes remarking how cool that was.

After conversing a bit more, Sienna takes you around the room and introduces you to few more people. Some lived in the building and others were mutual friends that she had with George, Chris and Arthur.

You are chatting with a few girls when George joins the group, more shots in hand, "No more...I'm like another shot away from throwing up," you tell him.

"That's fine. I'll find someone to hold your hair back," he says with a chuckle, placing a shot glass in your hand and in the already drunk state you were in, you comply.

Even more shots later, you excuse yourself to go to the restroom. George tells you to use the en-suite in his room and despite George's instructions, it takes you all but 5 seconds to forget in your intoxicated state.

You head in the general direction that he pointed you in and walk down the hall, stumbling into the first bedroom that you see. The room has a cozy and warm atmosphere. There is a filming set up on the desk in the corner, a bookshelf overflowing with books and a white piano placed against one of the walls. At first glance, you don't feel like the room fits the vibe that George had, but you brushed it off and made a beeline to the toilet.

You finish your business and step out of the restroom. As you exit, you hear the door of the balcony open wider, and at that moment it dawns on you that you might have unintentionally entered someone else's private space by mistake.

Without a second thought, you try to head straight out the door, hoping to completely avoid any interaction at all. But with the alcohol slowing down your reaction time, you're only able to take maybe four steps before you hear a man's voice, "Oh, hello."

In that moment, you just want to make a run for it, but instead, you turn around to face whoever's room this was. You're pleasantly surprised when you come face to face with a familiar warm smile.

"Hey", you reply with slight surprise in your tone, a smile creeping up on your face. His face lights up with a bright smile at the sight of the person that was occupying space in his mind for the past week.

"Hide everything heavy, else I might drop it on your foot," you say, your face scrunching at your embarrassing attempt to make this interaction less awkward. Your words earn you a laugh.

"Oh, sorry btw," you blurt out, pointing to the restroom door. "George said I could use the one in his room, but I got confused and ended up here. I know I probably should have checked to see if there was someone else here first. Haha, I don't always think too straight when I'm drunk, you know, especially because it's been almost 6 months since I drank last so, I'm usually not a lightweight, but I guess the large pause from drinking has kind of turned me into one." you word vomit in your drunken state.

You pause for a second to catch your breath, all while the man in front of you takes it all in with an amused smile on his face. "Oh shit, I'm rambling, aren't I? Sorry for that," your words are accompanied with a slight stumble even while just standing, and the man quickly rushes to your side. "Woah there," he says, helping you regain balance. "Come sit down." He leads you and sits you down on the edge of his bed, taking a seat next to you.

"Oh! I'm Y/N, by the way. Sorry I didn't catch your name last time," you finally introduce yourself, hoping to clear the awkward air. He smiles warmly. "I'm Arthur," he says, his voice soft and friendly.

"So you're the fourth flatmate," you remark, trying to keep the conversation flowing smoothly.

"Yeah, that's me," Arthur confirms with a nod. "The elusive fourth flatmate," he adds with a chuckle. "I've been friends with the boys for a while, but I just moved in a a few weeks ago."

As Arthur talks about how he met each of his flatmates, you can't help but be drawn in by his charming and slightly goofy personality. You also didn't mind just staring at his handsome face for a while. You find yourself smiling at his easy demeanor, pleasantly surprised by how instantly at ease you started to feel around him as you two spoke, as if you'd known each other much longer than your short interactions.

You learn that Arthur is a YouTuber too, specializing in TV show commentary and reaction videos. You make a mental note to check out his channel, along with the others', when you manage to find the time.

He says, "You know, I totally felt like an idiot the other day for not getting your name." You chuckle softly, feeling a bit relieved that he brought it up first.

"Oh no, that was totally on me," you admit sheepishly, "I was in a bit of a hurry." you quickly recover, flashing him a warm smile. "But it's nice seeing you again," you say sincerely.

"Likewise," Arthur replies, a hint of relief in his voice. "I was hoping we'd run into each other again."

"Is your boyfriend here as well?" Arthur asks, his voice tinged with a hint of disappointment. For a moment, you almost feel like you misheard him. "I'm sorry, what?" you ask, taken aback. "Your boyfriend, the guy from the hall the other week, don't you live together?" he asks, with furrowed brows.

"Oh, no, he wasn't my boyfriend," you clarify, a hint of amusement in your voice. "I live with my friend Sienna. He's her ex; he was just coming over to pick up some of the stuff he left behind." You swear you see relief wash over Arthur's face.

"But where did you get that impression?" you ask, intrigued.

Arthur hesitates for a moment before answering, "Well, before he went into your flat, he said that his girlfriend lived there, tried to size me up, and then told me to stay away from your place."

You look at him in shock. "He did what!?" you exclaim, "Are you serious?", you say, making a mental note to strangle Joey if you were to ever see him again.

Arthur nods, a sympathetic expression on his face. "Yeah, I found the bloke a little dodgy. Weird character."

You can't help but laugh at the absurdity of the situation. "Well, now you know why he's her ex," you quip, shaking your head.

After a moment of silence, Arthur clears his throat, his tone slightly hesitant. "So, you're single?" he asks, his gaze meeting yours. You notice a hint of nervousness in his voice, and he quickly adds, "I-I don't mean to make you uncomfortable with that question…"

You offer him a reassuring smile. "No, no, it's okay," you reassure him, appreciating his concern. "Yes, I'm single," you confirm, feeling a sense of ease in his presence.

Arthur visibly relaxes, relieved by your response. "Good to know," he says with a small, sheepish grin. You can't help but find his reaction incredibly cute, and you let out a soft laugh. "Yeah, just focusing on finding my footing here in London," you explain, your tone light.

Arthur leans in with curiosity. "So, what brings you to London?" he asks, genuine interest gleaming in his eyes. You can't help but feel a flutter of warmth in your chest, surprised and pleased by the level of interest he's showing, unable to recall any guy you've talked to who has shown such genuine curiosity about your life.

You smile, feeling a sense of connection as you share a bit of your story. "Well, I'm actually starting my Ph.D. next week," you reveal. "It's been my dream program for as long as I can remember."

His eyebrows raise in intrigue. "Wow! a Ph.D.? That's impressive. In archeology?" he asks, his interest piqued. He laughs softly, and adds "I remember from the books you dropped on me."

You laugh, appreciating his recall. "Yes, that's the one," you confirm, feeling your heart melting at how attentive he was.

"Wow, archaeology sounds fascinating," Arthur remarks, leaning in with genuine interest, and you realize just how close he had gotten during this conversation. "How did you get into it?"

You smile, reminiscing about your journey. "Well, it's kind of because of my father," you begin, "He was a Greek history professor, and some of my youngest memories are of sitting in on his lectures when I was little and he has always been very supportive of me learning about other cultures and their histories."

Arthur's eyes light up with curiosity as he listens intently.

"So I just knew," you continue, "When it was time for uni, it just felt write to study archeology. Though I was studying in the States up until now, I traveled to various countries, exploring different archaeological sites." Arthur nods, captivated by your story.

And just like that, the conversation flows effortlessly between you, diving deeper into the world of archaeology and sharing your mutual fascination with the subject. You also ask him about his journey in becoming a youtuber and are extremely impressed by how he transitioned from being a lawyer to a content creator. With each new detail he shares, you find yourself being just a little more attracted to him.

As you continue on with your conversation, your attention is drawn away when you hear a knock on the open door of the room.

George peaks his head into the room, you get up and face him, realizing that you had completely forgotten that you even were at a party. Time had slipped away as you spoke with Arthur.

You check your phone, and were slightly shocked to see that almost 2 hours had passed by since you came stumbling into Arthur's room.

"Y/N, I was looking for you," George says, concern evident in his voice. "Sienna seems a bit out of it. I think you should take her home."

Immediately, you're on your feet, concern for your friend overriding any other thoughts. You follow George back into the living room, Arthur following closely behind. You see that the crowd had thinned out a bit but the music was still playing and there were still people chatting and drinking.

Sienna is sprawled out on the couch, her hair covering her face. You crouch down next to her, gently brushing her hair away. "Are you okay, babe?" you ask softly.

Sienna's eyes flutter open, and she springs up, throwing her arms around you. "Y/N! Where were you all night? I wanted to drink more with you!" she exclaims. Then, she turns to George and demands, "Get us more shots, George!"

George looks between the two of you and shakes his head with a smile. "Water it is," he says and heads to the kitchen to get some.

Sienna spots Arthur standing behind you. "Hey there," she says cheerfully. She'd always been the more social one between you two and absolutely loved meeting new people.

Arthur comes over and crouches next to you, introducing himself to her. "You must be Sienna. I'm Arthur, another one of George's flatmates," he says warmly. "How are you feeling? Do you need anything?" He asks, and you find yourself looking at Arthur with a smile, touched by how sweet he was being.

"You're the guy that Y/N almost decapitated last week," she teases, a mischievous twinkle in her eye, completely ignoring Arthur's questions. "Oh, you are cute!"

Sienna then glances at you, a goofy smile spreading across her face. "You were right, he is cute," she says, with a playful wink in your direction.

As Sienna's playful words sink in, you feel a blush creeping up on your face. Sienna always lost whatever little filter she had when she was drunk.

You catch Arthur glancing at you for a second, and you quickly avert your gaze, attempting to hide your flushing cheeks.

George returns with a bottle of water and hands it to you. You get Sienna to drink as much as she can.

"I should get her to bed then," you announce to the boys. Moving to pick her up, you find her weight causing you to stumble. Just as you're about to lose your balance, Arthur steps in to help, stabilizing both of you.

"I'll help get her back home," Arthur offers. You flash him an appreciative smile. Grateful for his assistance, you nod in agreement.

"It was great meeting you George," you say with a smile as he hands you Sienna's bag.

"It was great meeting you too," George replies warmly. "Take care yeah?", you nod in response.

With a final wave, you and Arthur begin to make your way out of the apartment, Sienna leaning on both of you for support.

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

"Alright, Sienna, we're home," you say gently as you now stand in front of your door, slightly nudging her, waking her up, as she had managed to doze off while you were getting the door open. You carefully guide her through the door with Arthur's assistance.

"Her bedroom is just down the hall." You say to Arthur and he helps you get her to her room.

"Let's get you settled then," you say to Sienna as you lay her in her bed and take her heels off. Arthur steps aside for a moment while you tuck Sienna into bed and ensure she's comfortable.

Once Sienna is settled, you glance at Arthur and gesture him to leave with you. The two of you leave her bedroom as quietly as possible, and you step outside your flat so you can thank him and see him off.

You and Arthur stand in the hallway outside your door, a quiet moment settling between you.

"Thank you again for helping me with Sienna," you say, breaking the silence.

Arthur shakes his head, "It wasn't a bother at all," he replies sincerely, his eyes reflecting genuine kindness. Then, he remarks, "You and Sienna seem really close."

You nod, a soft smile playing on your lips. "Yeah, we've known each other since we were about 10 years old. She's probably the only person in the world who knows me better than I know myself," you explain. Arthur listens attentively, admiring you as you talk about your best friend with a slight twinkle in your eye.

Arthur nods with a smile. "It was great seeing you again," he says, and you return his smile, expressing your mutual sentiment.

He then reaches into his back pocket and pulls out his phone. "Could I get your number?" he asks, a hint of nervousness in his voice as he hands you his phone.

You take the phone with a smile, feeling the subtle tension building in the air. After exchanging numbers, a moment of silence passes as you gaze into each other's eyes. In that moment, you notice just how close he's stood, his height easily towering over you.

In a low voice, you say, "I really enjoyed speaking with you today," with a smile. Arthur replies, "So did I."

The tension between you grows palpable, and Arthur breaks the silence. "I think we should hang out more often," he suggests.

"Yeah, I think so too," you reply, excitement lacing your voice.

Maybe it was the alcohol that was still flowing in your system, or maybe it was the feeling of anticipation that was building, almost like each of you was waiting for the other to say or do something, or maybe it was just this gorgeous man standing ever so close to you, with his pretty brown eyes and a charming smile that was already getting you weak at your knees. Whatever the reason may be, all you knew is that you were feeling surprisingly bold tonight.

Without another word, you lean in, deciding to shoot your shot with the guy who only came into your life a week ago. Arthur reciprocates, leaning in and connecting his lips with yours. His hands come up to your waist, giving it a light squeeze as he pulls you almost flush against his hard chest. The sudden contact causes a light gasp to escape your mouth. Arthur takes the chance as he slips his hot tongue into your mouth. Arthur's tongue explores your mouth, sending shivers down your spine and a warmth spreads down your body.

He gently pushes you up against your door as he deepens the kiss further. You find yourself melting into his touch, your arms moving up to wrap around his neck. You give his fluffy soft hair a slight tug, causing Arthur to let out a low groan and he tries to get even closer to you, as if that were even physically possible anymore.

You feel his warm hand snake up the back of your shirt and settle on the low of your back, the sensation turning your legs to jelly.

If someone would have told you a month a ago that you’d be making out with a guy you had just met outside of your flat in London, you would have laughed at their face.

This particular moment was absolutely perfect and you did not wanna stop anytime soon.

Eventually, the two of you pull away breathless, panting for air. Both of you look at each other with matching lust-filled eyes and flushed cheeks.

In that moment the both of you let out a laugh, now feeling a lot lighter after breaking the tension.

Arthur takes a step back and looks like he is about to say something. But, before he can get a word in, a loud thud interrupts the moment from inside your flat.

The sounds causes you to jolt and step away from the door. You turn around to open the door, hoping that Sienna hadn't hurt herself in her drunk state.

Before you stepped into you flat, you turn to Arthur. "I had a really good time tonight," you say, smiling. He returns you that swoon worthy smile of his.

"I'll see you later." He says with a goodbye.

With that, you head inside, a goofy smile of your own plastered across your face. You lean against your door and take a moment to process what just happened.

"Y/N", your thoughts are interrupted as you hear Sienna call out to you from inside her bedroom.

"Coming," you reply, heading in her direction, your mind still reeling from the passionate moment you shared with Arthur.

Once you had made sure that Sienna was all good and tucked back into bed, you find yourself sitting on the edge of your bed, with flushed cheeks, replaying the events of tonight.

Your phone dings beside you, lighting up your dark bedroom. You peer over to see a "Hi" from an unknown number and at that moment you knew that this new chapter of your life in London, might just be the best one yet.

Part 2

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

A/N: AAAAAAHHHH! I still can't believe that I've finally gotten my first fic up. I kind of want to write a part 2 for this fic. I’m envisioning cute museum dates and late night ramblings. Something that is in the same universe as this story. Let me know what you think.

Check out my other fics and oneshots here. Requests are currently open!! Or just drop in for a chat! 😊

#arthurtv #arthurtv x reader #arthurtv imagines #arthurtv fics #arthur frederick #arthur frederick imagines #arthur frederick fics #george clarke #george clarkey #youtube fics #youtube imagines #chaos chrew #strangers to lovers #fluff #arthur frederick x reader #youtuber #youtuber fluff #arthurtv fluff

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olicitymckono · 3 months

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TOGETHER

Best friends are always there for each other. Yes they will fight and not always agree on everything but if one of them is hurting, it’s the best friends job to help in an way they can. Charles Leclerc and Yn D’Marco were two such friends. They had met in Kindergarten when a young boy had pushed her off the swings. Charles had pushed the boy back and helped her up and since that day they had been inseparable. The Leclerc family had become her second family especially since her mom had disappeared when she was 2. Maria D’Marco had not been built for motherhood as she said and had decided she wanted to see the world with her hippie boyfriend Tommy. Her father Alistair was a wonderful man who loved life and especially his daughter. Having no siblings, she had quickly been adopted by Lorenzo and Arthur as their little sister. Yn had been there through all the trials and tribulations, the death of Jules and Hervé. His highs and lows and even his girlfriends. Yn was unfortunately the typical girl best friend having realised her feelings for him when he had started dating Giada. But thankfully she was not the type of girl to mope around and pine for him. It also helped that for the most part she got along great with his girlfriends. Except his latest girlfriend Alexandra. For some reason Alex had an attitude with the blonde and hated whenever Charles would spend time with his friend going so far as to worm her way into their plans and even manipulating him into cancelling them. One such occasion was about to occur. Yn’s 26th birthday was approaching and since it fell in the 3 week break between races the Leclerc boys and Yn had organised a week long trip/birthday celebration in Las Vegas. It was something Yn had been looking forward to for months. With her ever growing photography business and his races they hadn’t gotten to see each other in months and Facetiming wasn’t the same. She missed her friend terribly and so had he.

Two weeks before the trip Alex was laying on the bed watching Charles get ready for some event. She didn’t want to join him so her friends were coming over. She saw his phone ping indicating a message and she rolled her eyes seeing her name. Yn had not done anything to her other than being his friend and she was jealous of the girl because Alexandra believed he had feelings for the girl. When Charles headed into the bathroom, she grabbed his phone. “Hey Charlie. Good luck tonight. I know how much you hate these things. 😊 But Las Vegas is almost here.”

“Not if I can help it,” she thought. That night while Charles was gone she and her friends began planning to keep the two friends apart. By the time he had gotten back, she had talked or more so guilted him into a romantic getaway for the two of them to Bali. And the temptress had even made him forget about how he was going to lie to Yn.

“Hey Charlie,” Yn smiled as she answered the phone. “You started packing yet?”

“Hey Ynn,” he sighed. “About that.”

“Everything ok?”

“I won’t be able to make it this year.”

“What?”

“The team hasn’t done particularly well so far and they want to work over the break to improve if we stand a chance at the championship. I’m sorry Cherie. But I’ll make it up to you.”

“I understand. Sucks though.”

“I know. Believe me I would rather be spending time with you but I need to do this.” He lied to spare her feelings but he seemed to forget that he was famous and sooner or later she would find out the truth.

Three days into the trip Yn was sitting at the hotel pool, laughing at something stupid Arthur had done. Carla was sitting next to her on Instagram when she turned to Yn. “Hey, I thought Charles was working?”

Yn turned and shrugged, “That’s what he said. Why?”

“So why’s he in Bali?”

“Huh?” Carla passed her the phone. Alexandra had posted pictures of the couple enjoying the white blue beaches of Bali capturing them “Bali vaca with my ❤️.” Had Charles really lied to her? “Maybe I misunderstood.” But she knew she hadn’t. For the first time in their friendship he had lied to her.

The vacation and her birthday suddenly felt different. The others could see she was trying hard not to let Charles’ lie spoil it and so they tried to make it unforgettable.

Charles knew something was off when he face timed her for her birthday. “Happy Birthday Cherie.”

“Thanks Charlie,” she forced a smile. “How’s the training?

“Boring as hell. Wish I was there with you.” She simply nodded. “Maman can’t wait for you to get back and neither can I. I’m going to make it up to you.”

“It’s okay. You don’t have to.”

“I want to Cherie. We haven’t missed each others birthday since we were 3.”

“We’ve never lied to each other either,” she mumbled soft enough that he didn’t hear.

“Are you okay Yn?” he asked concerned.

“I’m fine. Think I’m just tired from all the sun. I’m going to go lie down for a while before dinner. Thank you for calling Charlie.”

“Are you sure?”

She nodded, “Ill call you later ok?”

“Sure, goodbye Cherie.”

Even though she hadn’t said anything Lorenzo had decided not to let his brother get a pass. While the others were around the table he decided to give his little brother a call and excused himself. “Hey man, how’s Vegas?”

“What’s wrong with you?” Lorenzo skipped the pleasantries. As much as he loved his brother he loved Yn too, she was a little sister to him.

“Excuse me?”

“Why did you lie? You’re not in Maranello.”

Charles scoffed, “Where else would I be?”

“Bali.”

Charles’ face paled. “What?”

“We saw the pictures. Alex posted.”

Charles closed his eyes and sighed feeling guilty and realised that was why she had been so off. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m not the one you should be apologising to.”

“I’ll make it up to her.”

“You better. Since when do you lie?”

“Enzo, I just didn’t want a fight. I know Yn and Alex aren’t that close.”

“I wonder why,” Lorenzo replied sarcastically.

“And what is that supposed to mean?”

“Exactly how it sounds. Since when has a girl every made you lie not only to your best friend but your brothers too?”

“Lorenzo, I’m really sorry. I fucked up, I know.”

“You’re going to have to fix it.”

“I will.”

When the group returned from America, Charles was waiting for them and no Alex in sight. As frustrated and hurt as she was with him, Yn was happy to see Charles. The first person he reached for was her and he pulled her tightly into his arms. “Cherie, I’m sorry.”

“I know.”

“You, me, my apartment tonight. We’re having a movie night.”

“I thought you’re leaving for Spa tomorrow?” she asked.

He shook his head, “I postponed my flight till Wednesday. That way we can spend time together. I missed you.”

“I missed you too Charlie.”

Unfortunately things were only going to get worse.

Arriving at Charles’ apartment that night Yn was surprised to see Alexandra there. He saw her deflate slightly trying her best to be polite as she greeted the brunette. He followed her into the kitchen as she grabbed a glass filling it with water. “She just showed up. I thought she was in Paris.”

“It’s ok Charles.”

“Are you sure? I know it was just supposed to be us.”

She placed a smile on her lips, “I’m sure.”

Throughout the evening Yn noticed how Alexandra would try to make it all about her. Every time Charles would try talking to Yn, she wasn’t even able to get to finish her answer before the other girl took his attention away. And it was beginning to piss Yn off.

Before the movie was even done, Yn had had enough. Alexandra had become increasingly touchy with her boyfriend and Yn happened to notice a moment when it was painfully obvious that the girl had placed her hand into his shorts. He had unknowing let out a soft moan and Yn saw how Alexandra had looked at her with a smirk. Yn was done. She silently grabbed her bag and got up.

“Where are you going?” Alexandra asked acting dumb. Charles had opened his eyes and adjusted himself looking at his friend in concern.

“I forgot I have an early start tomorrow. But you have fun.” She didn’t wait for a answer and headed for the door. She made it to the elevator when he reached her.

“Why are you leaving?”

She looked at him disappointment in her eyes. “You obviously have better things to do.”

“Why do you not like her?”

“This has nothing to do with Alexandra.”

“Really?” he asked sarcastically. “Then why leave.”

“Kinda awkward when you two are practically wanting to fuck each other right there.”

“I’ll tell her to cool it.”

She shook her head, “Don’t worry about it.” She hit the button waiting for the elevator to open.

“Why do you do this?”

“Do what Charles?”

“Make her feel so uncomfortable?”

“I told you this isn’t about her!”

“Right, so you’re not pissed because I choose to spend my break with MY girlfriend!”

“I’m pissed because you LIED! If you wanted to be with her then you should have said that!”

“You are so suffocating!”

Yn felt her heart break and he could see in her eyes he had hurt her and had gone too far. Hell he didn’t even mean what he said, but as he opened his mouth to apologise Alexandra called from his door about a phone call. The elevator doors opened and she climbed in pushing the ground floor button. She waited for the doors to close before letting the tears fall.

“Cherie I’m sorry!”

“I didn’t mean it!”

“Please pick up.”

A few weeks had passed and Yn had not spoken to Charles or even replied to his messages. Their friends knew something was wrong even some of the fans were picking up on something. Charles was not himself and Yn who was a regular face in the paddock hadn’t been to any races since the break. She no longer commented or liked his posts. No more good luck messages before races, no more messages at all. He missed her. It was hard for her too. When he had a bad race she wanted to message him, but she didn’t. She missed her friend so much but she couldn’t forget what he had said. She had been there for him through everything; Jules, his father, when Ferrari let him down. Even when she had needed her friend, like when she had caught her ex boyfriend in bed with someone else, she pushed it aside because he had needed her. But she was suffocating him!

She put all her time and energy into her little photography business and it was after a photoshoot that she ran into David. Well actually he ran into her, literally.

“Shit, I’m so sorry.” He rushed to help her get up.

“It’s ok. I should have looked where I was going.”

“No it’s my fault. Is anything broken?”

She shook her head, “Doesn’t look like it.” She noticed to he had spilt coffee all over himself. “Seems like your shirt got the brunt.”

“Huh?” She pointed at his shirt. “Oh, I didn’t even realise.”

“Can I buy you another?” she really did feel bad.

“You don’t have to do that. But I won’t say no. I’m David.”

“Yn.”

David turned out to be a really nice guy. He was from South Africa and was a professional cricket player. Yn had never heard about the sport but could tell how passionate he was. They got along so well and really enjoyed each others company that they spent the rest of the day talking. As day entered night, David asked if she would like to have dinner with him and she found herself accepting happily.

Coming home one evening after having been on another date, Yn found Charles waiting at her apartment door. He looked so sad and lost. “Hi.”

“What do you want Charles?”

“Can I come in?”

“Fine.” She heard him sigh in relief as she unlocked her door and let them in.

“You look pretty Cherie.”

She pulled off her heels and headed for her room. She quickly changed out of her dress into some sweats and a hoodie. Walking back into the kitchen she found Charles making her some tea. She opened a cupboard and pulled out some Macaroons before going to sit on the balcony. Charles joined her a few minutes later.

“How are you?”

“I’m fine thanks. You?”

“Been better. I miss you.”

“What is it that you want Charles?”

“A chance to make it up to you. I know I screwed up and I’m so sorry. I never meant it.”

She nodded sadly. “Doesn’t change the fact that you said it.”

“I never meant to hurt you Belle. Never you.”

“I miss you too Charlie. But you hurt me, twice.”

He took her hand in his and slowly began to run his thumb across her skin. “I can’t take away what I said. But I just want to prove to you that I’m sorry.”

“When my mom left, I thought it was my fault. Like I was too needy. I promised myself that I wouldn’t be like that with the people I love. That I would make sure they were ok. If me being there for you is suffocating I’m sorry.”

“Hey, no your not suffocating. I think I was projecting. Alexandra just showed up that night and I was already frustrated because it was supposed to be just you and me. I was really looking forward to it. But I’m weak. She basically threatened to with hold sex if she couldn’t join.”

“So you caved?”

He nodded. “Please forgive me?”

“You have to earn it.” But she said that with a smile.

For several weeks things seemed like they were back to normal and friends and fans alike were happy. The only one who wasn’t was Alexandra. Unfortunately for her she was stuck in Paris for a while. David had to return to South Africa for a few games and he had asked Yn to come with him. As her job wasn’t office bound and she had no scheduled jobs she agreed. Charles wasn’t happy about it though. Ever since he had met David, he had felt different. Yn had dated before but other then Adrian; her ex; she had never been serious about a guy. He had liked Adrian but he wasn’t mad that she had broken up with him. But something was different this time. Seeing her happy and possibly falling in love with this guy didn’t sit right with Charles. He just didn’t know why. She was his best friend, that was all right? A few nights before they left for South Africa, David had suggested a double date with Charles and Alexandra. He knew that Yn wasn’t a fan of hers but he also knew how important Charles was to her and that they wouldn’t be seeing each other for a while. It was at dinner that Charles realised that he was in love with his best friend and that all the fights he had with Alexandra was because she knew it. He remembered one night they were in the middle of sex and he had accidentally called her Yn. At the time he thought it was because he had spent the day with his friend but Alexandra had lashed out at him convinced he was in love with her. He had denied it then but now he knew it was true. Those weeks when she hadn’t spoken to him, had been the most pain he had ever felt. And now the thought of her leaving even if just for a few weeks clawed at his heart. Worse was the feeling he got when he had to watch David touch her, kiss her and make her smile. He wanted to be the one to do that. Hearing her laugh at something he said drew Charles out of his thoughts. He made up his mind on what he was going to do, he just hoped he didn’t end up losing her for good.

She had just kissed David good night and run a hot bubble bath when there was a knock on her door. She frowned slightly wondering if he had forgotten something. She was a little shocked to see her friend standing there. “Hey.”

“Hey.”

She moved aside to let him in. “I was just about to take a bath.”

“I’m sorry, I need to talk to you about something.”

She could tell it must be something important, “Ok, let me just change quick. Can you put the kettle on?”

He nodded.

“Charles?” she called a few seconds later.

“Yeah?”

“Can you help me please?” she leaned her head out the door.

“Sure,” he headed into the room. “What’s wrong?”

“The damn zipper is stuck.”

He chuckled, “Turn around Belle.”

Turning around she moves her hair onto her shoulder allowing him to grab the zip. It was a bit stuck but with some effort he was able to get it to move. Problem was the more he moved the zip down the more his fingers trailed along her skin. It was having an effect on him and by the sound of her breathe intake he knew she was too. Without thinking he moved his hand across her back into the fabric stopping against her bare waist, while at the same time placing his lips against one of her shoulders after he moved the strap with his other hand.

“Charles?”

“Mhmm,” he murmured as he moved his lips across her throat.

“What are you doing?” She asked breathy.

“I want you.”

She turned around causing his hand to slip out. “What?”

He wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her close. “I love you.” He pressed his lips against hers but she didn’t respond except to pull away.

“I’m sorry?” she sat down on her bed where he joined her.

“I love you.”

“I love you too Charlie but what just happened?”

He shook his head, “I’m in love with you.”

Her eyes widen, “You’re in.....what?”

He brushed a strand of hair from her face, “I’m in love with you Belle.”

“Since when?”

“A while. Forever. I was just blind. But Alex knew. That’s why she’s been acting the way she has. She’s jealous.”

“Why now?”

“I wasn’t 100 percent sure until tonight.”

“Nothing happened tonight.”

“I watched you with him.”

“David?”

He nodded, “Its supposed to be me. I’m supposed to be the one who makes you happy.”

“Charlie, you’re my best friend. You do make me happy.”

“Not in everyway. Yn I want to spend my life with you not just as you’re best friend.”

“I don’t know what I’m supposed to say.”

“Do you know why none of my relationships last?” she shook her head. “Neither did I. Not till I realised it was because they were not you.”

“Charlie,”

“Yn the whole night I have been going over my thoughts, why I hate seeing you with someone else, why Alexandra is so jealous, why it was your name on my lips in my dreams and that night.”

“What night?” she asked furrowing her brow in confusion.

He sighed, “A couple nights before I lied about Maranello, Alex and I were......having sex.”

“Ok and?”

“I called her you.”

“You called Alex Yn?”

“Yes. I didn’t realise it in the moment but she suddenly got mad and we started arguing. I guess that’s why I agreed to go to Bali. I felt guilty.”

She stood up. “I’m supposed to be leaving in a few days. With David, my boyfriend.”

“Don’t go.” He stood up and took her hand pulling her close. “Belle please I know I don’t deserve it but give me a chance?” He drew her into a kiss and she knew she was in trouble. Separating their lips he placed his head gently against hers. “Tell me you feel nothing and I’ll walk away.” She couldn’t respond, she was so conflicted. When she didn’t answer him he lifted his head and kissed her cheek. “I love you Yn never forget that.”

He walked out her room and headed for the door but just as he reached for the handle she was behind him and grabbing his hand. “I love you too Charlie.” This time she was the one to pull him into a kiss and they both knew this was were they belonged, together.

Author Note: Hi guys I hope you enjoyed it and thank you for all the love on my Max story, Verstappen's Heart. It means alot.

Please feel free to send any requests for your favourite drivers ❤️

#f1 x reader #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagine #charles Leclerc #reader pov #formula one x reader #formula one x y/n

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starshapedb0x · 10 months

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𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐄𝐑 ✧˚ · .

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: you go on vacation with your good friend Audrey, your other friend Arthur and your bestest of friends, Oscar. There’s things that can’t be left unsaid.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: 18+ (read at your own discretion), it’s very little though, fingering (f receiving), innocent kink, mostly fluff really. NOT PROOFREAD (do not hold it against me pls)

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: Oscar Piastri x best friend!reader

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 2k+

𝐀/𝐍: I honestly forced myself to write this one so not at all the best, but enjoy some summer visuals 🪽

You look at your half-packed bag as you fold the last one of the bikinis. You stare up at your best friend, Audrey, she’s lied down on your bed scrolling through her phone. Her bags packed to go, they were resting in front of the door, you’d agreed she’d help you pack so you both could finally go on vacation after a long college semester plus the exams to complete in the end.

Being in Portugal to study was a new experience for you, you’d travelled out of your country before but staying a whole year away from your family and home was different. It was hard, of course, staying away from everything you know for too long is always hard; but you’ve made so many friends, visited so many places, grown so much in this place that it almost feels like home. And overall, college was going well for you. Of course you’d talked about it with all your friends, specifically your one and only Oscar Piastri.

You’d known each other since you were still in nappies, your mothers were best friends and they insisted on often seeing each other regardless of where they were. As a consequence, their kids became friends, staying with each other throughout every difficulty that eventually showed up such as the distance between each other. You’d always had a thing for him, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to tell him, partly because you knew he didn’t like you and partly because it was so hard to keep the friendship with the little time you were together, imagine a relationship.

As so, you convinced Audrey, Oscar and one of his friends to all go to Audrey’s house in Melides, she came from a Portuguese background, her roots were here, therefore she had family and houses, including the cosy beach house located in the south of the country. Five minutes away from the beach and with a considerably sized swimming pool, there was really nowhere else where you’d rather spend summer with your friends.

“Are you done packing? Their plane already landed we gotta hurry.” She asked, leisurely sitting up on your bed, turning off her phone and placing it next to her. “You’ll finally be able to see your beloved Oscar..” She grinned slyly at you.

“Don’t say it like that,” you replied timidly “I need you to help me close this bag.”

——————————————————

And a few hours later, that so familiar smell of summer invaded your whole being. The wind hitting your face as you let your arm slide with it, back. The four of you in that car with all the windows open, You, Audrey, Oscar and Arthur. Having picked them up from the airport, Audrey was driving, being guided by her phone which loudly indicating the directions over the music you and Oscar had chosen, and being guided by Arthur who contradicted the phone and yelled both in English and French. You were sat right next to Audrey, almost fully outside the window, looking at your final destination; Oscar right behind you, eyes focused on the way your hair flowed with the wild wind and on the wide smile you kept painted on your face. Arthur behind Audrey who now told him with all her teeth to shut up.

As the car finally parked, you opened the door and ran outside to pick up your bags and finally settle in.

To be honest, the first day wasn’t that big. You guys had arrived late and all the guys wanted to do was rest after the long flight they had gone through to be here, so everyone just had dinner, something you all quickly whipped up from remainders, and headed to sleep.

The next day, everyone was packed and excited to get to the beach. You could already feel the sand in your feet and the sun hitting your skin, along with the salty water covering your body. It was a quick walk to the beach where you all went chatting.. specially you and Oscar. Both of you stayed behind and caught up with the few things you hadn’t through texting.

“You know, I’m pretty stoked to be here for summer break.” Oscar said promptly. “I missed you.”

“I’m stoked you’re here too! We haven’t seen each other in so long.” You looked at him. Oh god, that face you’ve liked for so long, the past year without him was torture. “I misse—“

You couldn’t finish your sentence, in a millisecond, Oscar had dropped his stuff and picked you up bridal style, running into the sea quickly. You screamed in surprise, your arms flying around his neck tightly. Soon both of you were fully clothed thrown into the sea, playfully hitting and throwing water at each other. Your white flowy dress sticking onto your body, revealing the tiny bikini you had underneath. At the sight, Oscar stopped for a second. There was no way he could keep his eyes off you the rest of the trip.

The day went as usual, everyone tanned a fair amount — except for Oscar who refused to let you put sunscreen on his back. Of course, his back is fully sunburnt, a shocking red painted on it.

“Oscar, please, let me put After-sun on it.” You insisted.

“Fine, okay.” He finally succumbed to your wishes, figuring it’d be the best option.

Both of you went to the bathroom, as Audrey and Arthur made dinner, you could only hope anything good would come out of it..

You held the bottle of After-Sun spreading a generous amount on your hand, warning it up before placing your hands on your best friend’s back.

“OW!” He winced, arching his back, flexing it. You pursed your lips and felt your face getting warmer.. you knew he had to work out more in F1 but. Wow.

“Come on, don’t be a baby.” You smiled and let out a quiet chuckle. Running your hands along his back to spread the product.

“I’m not a baby, you’re just a little rough.” He turned around, holding your wrists and looking down at you. You looked up at him. The way he towered over you, pressing his body closer to yours and leaning his face down. “Be gentler, yeah?”

You nodded, looking down at his dangerously close lips, then back into his eyes. His breathing hitting your face, your foreheads and noses pressing against each other, Oscar looks down at your lips and—

“Hey guys! Dinner is ready. Everything good in here?” Arthur had slammed the door open, and with the noise, both of you jumped away from each other. Your face went bright red while wiping your hands off the After-Sun to a nearby towel. Oscar scratched the back of his neck, looking around, face heating up.

“Yeah, yeah, we’ll be right there.” And so you did.

After that, you got frustrated. The next days, Oscar did not say a word to you. Well, you didn’t say anything to him either but — on your fourth day of beach together and he had no intention of talking to you about what happened in the bathroom? And this kept you awake at night. You were tossing and turning wondering if you had done something wrong. Should you have kissed him? Maybe he just doesn’t want to be with you. Whatever it was, he had to tell you himself.. even if it was hard to hear, you had to. Living off waiting had always gone wrong for you. You got up from your bed, in your sheer night gown, not bothering to get your slippers on even if the tile floor was cold. You walked out the door and went right into where you knew was the bedroom he was staying in. You looked at it a rethought your decision, but when your brain decided it was better not too, your heart was banging on that door with all the strength it had. In a matter of seconds it was open.

Oscar looked you up and down, and kept his head up to look into your face — your night gown didn’t leave much for the imagination. “Y/N..? Are you okay? Can you not sleep?”

“Why are you avoiding me? Do you not like me? Is it because of what happened in the bathroom? I’m so sorry; I didn’t mean to almost kiss you! I mean I wanted to but if you—“ His lips gently pressed against yours and his arm slid around your waist. You let yourself melt into his touch.

“I’m sorry. I’m in love with you.” He simply said, mouth pressing kisses along your cheek and jawline. Your eyes widened and you looked up at him, he looked really lovesick now that you stared at him properly. You kissed him yourself this time.

He pulled you in to himself and closed the door behind you. You were pushed against the door and his hands slid along your half revealed skin, pulling and tugging on the sheer fabric. His mouth in yours in a way you’d never experienced before. If you were honest, you had no idea what to do.. you tried to keep your arms around him while he made your body feel in places it had never felt before.

“Oscar..” You whined. You had no idea what you were begging for, but he knew. And you knew he knew.

“Y/N, Y/N.. wait hold on. I’m.. uh. We’ll talk tomorrow-“ He figured it was a little to early for all of this, he couldn’t just jump in as much as he wanted to.

“What? No. You made me wait so much.” You looked down, his hard-on visible through the pajama pants. “Is it because of this?” You slid your hand over, palming his full clothed dick.

He looked down at you, mouth open as if he was ready to moan at any given moment. And you looked up at him sweetly, like you had no idea what you were doing, innocent little you. “Y/N, don’t start something you can’t finish.”

He was right, you actually had no idea what to do. Your experience was based purely off the one time you watched porn. “I can finish it.” You said promptly, although not very confident of your skills. Oscar grabbed you by your waist, and you let yourself be guided by him. He pushed you onto his bed and looked down at you. You looked clueless and all he wanted to do was finally make you know how good he could be. How amazing he could make you feel. And wipe that innocence right out of you. He slid his own t-shirt off and slid his hands under your night gown.

“You look so pretty in this.. such an angel.” He whispered, his fingers swiftly reached your breasts where he cupped them and then flicked your nipples between his fingers. Your hand flew to your mouth as you looked down to what he was doing. The way his head lowered, and only so then you realized he was getting on his knees. You sat up, and Oscar leaned his head into the inner side of your thigh, sliding his fingers along the milky skin. Your hand flew straight to his wrist.

“Hm? Can’t finish it after all, princess?” He asked, he wasn’t gonna do anything you didn’t want him to but at this point why ask. You let go from his wrist, and his fingers got closer finally reaching where they were needed the most. He slid his fingers through your fold spreading the wetness you’d pooled right when started kissing you. “All this just for me?” Oscar looked up at you, but you look away, hand covering your mouth, eyes struggling to keep still. Shaking with anticipation, why was he making you wait so much. He clearly wanted to take his time.

His movements were slow and he only lightly grazed your entrance with his digits, your mind started wondering to all the things he could do from here, to all the things you wanted him to do from here.

#f1 one shot #f1 fanfic #f1 x you #formula 1 #f1 x reader #oscar piastri x you #op81 #oscar piastri #formula 1 x reader #formula one #f1 smut #f1 imagine #f1 fic

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redvelvettel · 1 year

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DRENCHED IN GLORY ☆ CL16

Charles leclerc x f!reader

Warnings: it might be a bit obvious how much I need want Charles to win the wdc, but should be fine other than that.

masterlist

He had done it. He had finally done it.

Years and years of dreaming. Staying up at night wondering where he was going wrong. Spending hours on end in the simulator perfecting every turn and curve until it was etched in his memory. Crying on the phone because he couldn't be with the love of his life when he was most vulnerable and needed her the most.

Midnights where she held him to her chest and let him cry his heart out because he was frustrated with the car. She had been through it all with him. Cried with him when they lost people who were supposed to be there forever. They've never left each other's sides ever since that fateful day his mother came over to the new neighbor's house to give them a housewarming present.

6 year old Charles felt like he was going to throw up. The girl hiding behind her mother's gown in front of him peeked at him with her doe eyes. Yep. There was something definitely wrong with the poor lad. Because honestly, that's what he felt like. He followed her around like a lost puppy, never leaving her side until she reluctantly agreed to play with his toy cars. And they've been trapped in their own little bubble ever since.

His brother, Arthur had tried to steal her countless times but to no avail. It was like there was some invisible string holding them together. And neither of them ever dared to complain.

Charles won his first ever race mere weeks after meeting her. Ever since she learned that her new friend was racing in fast cars, she had been nagging her parents to let her go to a race with him. After some persuasion from the two children, they had finally let her attend a Karting race after being promised by Lorenzo that he wouldn't let her out of his sight.

She was fascinated with everything. She didn't care that it was just a Karting race, she was so happy and amazed that her friend could drive a fast car so bravely.

So she stood with his brothers and his father proudly cheering his name with her whole heart until her lungs burned, and she didn't stop until he started getting out of the little kart after crossing the finish line first. She ran up and crashed into him with the biggest smile and Charles couldn't help but feel like he was on top of the world.

Neither of the kids cared that it was a Karting race, to her he was the best to ever do it and he would always be on top of the world if she was by his side. Charles knew he wanted her in his life forever, then. As much as a six year old could want anything. That still hasn't changed, and he was positive it never will.

Somehow, Charles had convinced himself that she was his lucky charm, and begged both of their parents to let her attend as many races as she could. She was there with him for every single step as he climbed up the ranks and made it to the big leagues. She held his hand in hers as they walked into the paddock on his first ever official day as a formula one driver, with his name and number on the back of her shirt standing proudly.

It was many years later, and the thirst for glory had only deepened in Charles. When Charles told her when they were little that his dream was to be a world champion, she promised him that she would be right there cheering him on like always, waiting for him when he gets out of the car. He had been dreaming of the moment ever since, and it was about to come true.

She stood in the Ferrari motorhome, arms locked with Arthur, and all the mechanics surrounding them. Her and Pascale, who stood on her right, wore bright red headphones and were leaning onto each other, silent prayers escaping their mouths as they nervously glanced at the screens.

There were 4 laps left and Charles Leclerc could be a world champion at the end of the race, and the team was positive that he would be.

She reached out for Pascale's hand as they all started moving out of the motorhome with the rest of the team, excitement and hopefulness filling her. She knew he was going to win. He had to. This was his dream, and everything he has ever worked for was going to come true. She held on to Arthur and Pascale like her life depended on it, praying to all the gods she could think of. Tears started to fall onto her cheeks, out of happiness for how proud she was of the man she loved. She turned to look beside her and saw that Pascale has also started crying, hugging her tightly as they waited for what felt like eternity.

When he was finally a world champion after he crossed the line, she screamed his name at the top of her lungs, exactly like she did the first time he had won a race.

She felt everyone around her hugging eachother and people on the stands roaring out of happiness, and she couldn't see anything from the tears blurring her eyes.

He was a world champion. The champion of the world. He had finally brought back glory to the most historic team the sport has ever witnessed, and he was the love of her life. She sobbed looking at him as he got out of his seat and stood on the halo of his car, arms wide open as he was drenched in glory. His name was going to be written in the books, immortalising him. His name was going to be noted down in the history of the sport. He was finally a world champion.

His feet finally touched the ground, body shaking with sobs and he look around for his family, frantically taking his helmet off.

He ran into his mother's arms, letting her hold her not so little boy. He called out for her, looking around until he finally spotted her. Everyone with eyes could see how his whole face brightened when he saw her, the whole world other than the both of them disappearing.

He crashed into her, just like she did all those years ago. They held each other so tight it made people wonder if they could breathe, and they didn't seem to care. Everything he has ever wanted in his life had come true and he wanted nothing but to hold her in his arms and not let go.

She could feel his tears drenching her shirt, both of them shaking from the sobs they let out. "You're a world champion Charles, you've done it". He let out a snort of laughter, pulling her closer if that was even possible.

"I love you, I love you." He felt so much love for her at that moment that it felt like his heart was gonna burst if he wasn't careful.

As he slightly moved away so he could look at her, he knew he wanted her forever. He wanted her to be there when he wins championships, when he dnf's, he wanted her by his side during all the happy moments, and all the ugly ones too. His lips were on hers in an instant, with no care of all the people and cameras around him. All they'd ever need was eachother, and he would tear hell apart to keep her by his side forever.

#f1 x reader #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #f1 #formula one #f1 fanfic #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc fanfic #f1 imagine

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cowboydisaster · 1 year

Text

On Call

pairing: Arthur Morgan x fem!reader

word count: 800

summary: Arthur picks up the phone mid-coitus

a/n: This is just a little drabble I wrote up. I've been writing a lot of romance lately and needed a change of pace lol.

beta read by @margowritesthings

warnings: nsfw, 18+, minors dni (otp, rough sex)

Arthur's hands have an iron grip on your hips as he fucks you, drilling into you hard.

"Y'like that, ya little whore?" He growls, and you arch your back from the bed, moaning loudly. Your nails scrape red trails onto his shoulders and back as you dig your heels into him, spurring him on.

"Yes I like it, fuck- I love it." You mewl, breathy whimpers coming from your mouth.

His hips slap against yours loudly, his thumb tracing lightly over your clit as you shudder.

"Fuck- don't stop, Arthur. Don't stop." You stutter, shaking and writhing underneath him as you approach a climax.

Suddenly you hear a vibration, and you glance to his bedside table. It's buzzing against the hardwood table, lighting up as his ringtone plays out. Arthur's hips never relent as he reaches over, grabbing his phone and looking at the screen

"Be quiet. It's work." He orders, hips still slamming into you. Your eyebrows pull together, and you whimper.

"What? You- you can't just-" You mewl, head falling back as he picks up his pace.

"I said be quiet." Arthur growls, pressing the little green call button on his screen. You try your best to keep quiet as he rails you, but the task proves to be difficult.

"Mr van der Linde, how are you?" Arthur asks, glaring at you to shut up as his cock rams into your sweet spot.

"Yes Mr. van der Linde, good to hear." Arthur says loudly, charismatic as he keeps himself in total control. You squint your eyes shut, bucking your hips to meet his as his cock drags in and out of you, bumping your g-spot with every hard thrust.

"Yes, the wife is doin' very well, thanks for asking." Arthur smirks down at you, thrusting extra hard. You clamp a hand over your mouth to muffle your moans.

"Oh she's takin' it real good- all the change with the new job, I mean." Arthur smirks at you again, watching as your breasts bounce with each of his thrusts and your eyes roll back in your head.

He adjusts the phone between his ear and shoulder to free up his other hand, and he rubs his finger over your clit in time with his thrusts. You breathe heavily under your hand, struggling to hold your cries back.

"Arthur-" You mewl, not loud enough for Arthur's boss to hear, but for extra safety, he clasps his own hand over your mouth, pushing yours out of the way.

"Yes sir, I'll be sure to do so when I'm in the office next." He says, breath coming hotly from his nose.

Arthur's hips are tantalizing, putting you in a delirious state as you whimper and moan under his hands. He knows you're close.

"Yes, thank you Mr. van der Linde." He says, almost wrapping up. You can barely keep quiet anymore, a full mess under his hand as your orgasm approaches.

"Okay, yes, perfect. Thanks again, I'll see you shortly." Arthur says, humming and nodding before he hangs up the phone and tosses it somewhere on the bed.

The moan that you immediately release when his hand comes up from your mouth is ear piercing.

"Real good job. You can be loud for me now, let me hear it." Arthur says, and you do exactly that.

Your orgasm tears through you, sending waves of pleasure and shock over your body that have you bucking your hips, moaning, and gripping him with all the strength in your body.

"Arthur-!" You cry out, eyes rolling back as you arch off the bed. You curse, grinding against him as he keeps pace, fucking into you relentlessly.

"Yeah, good girl. That's it, take it." Arthur growls, groaning as a tightness grows in his balls.

You whimper with every breath, coming down just as Arthur slips out of you. He pumps himself a few times before groaning deeply and cumming all over your chest.

"Shit, darlin." He groans, catching his breath for a moment before getting up from the bed to get you a towel.

"Your boss?!" You ask, panting as he comes forward to wipe you up.

"Yes." Arthur says plainly, cleaning you up thoroughly.

"What if he heard me?" You ask, suddenly horrified.

"With the noises you make? Hell sweetheart, he'd promote me."

Arthur chuckles, and you roll your eyes as he tosses the towel in the hamper before crawling back overtop of you. He kisses your forehead, pulling you into his arms for the rest of the morning, wondering if an opportunity will come up like this one again.

taglist: @margofiore @mrsarthurmorgan7 @woman-with-no-name @tillith @luvliewriting @pine4pple-b0i @photo1030 @dudsparrow

#arthur morgan #arthur morgan x female reader #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x you #rdr2 fanfic #red dead redemption 2 #red dead redemption two #rdr2 arthur #rdr2 #arthur morgan smut

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whataperfectwasteoftime · 3 months

Text

Love Bites

Pairing: Marcus Pike x f!Reader (feat. Max Phillips!)

Rating: M (adult content, non-explicit smut, 18+)

Word Count: 9.7k

Warnings: Vampires! Blood drinking, talk of hunger (for blooooood) and killing (for bloooooood!). An art crime which is never actually solved, Soft Marcus, sarcastic asshole with a heart of gold Max. IDK if this is a threesome but it’s definitely threesome-adjacent, idiots in love, vampire venom causes euphoria and spontaneous orgasms because I said so, kissing, men kissing men, vampire bites, feeding, sharing blood through kissing,

Summary: You and your partner, Marcus Pike make a house call to the home of a wealthy art collector who just reported the theft of a two-million dollar glass, er, “sculpture.” At first, you can’t stand the smarmy Max Phillips, but when you find Marcus unconscious in the man’s living room, you find you have bigger problems than Max’s gross overuse of vampire puns…

A/N: I hallucinated this entire thing one night a few weeks ago instead of sleeping. Many, many thanks to @littlebirdsbookshelf for enduring and encouraging an endless line of screenshots of this fic and for helping with the moodboard!

Masterlist

As you read your newest assigned case file, your eyebrows feel as though they’re skyrocketing up into your hairline. You look up, shooting your partner a skeptical, unamused stare.

“Someone’s pulling your leg, Pike.”

Your partner playfully rolls his pretty brown eyes and flashes you that boyish smile that you lov–that you think is really nice, that’s all.

“You don’t think I had the presence of mind to fact check and verify this guy’s story? You wound me.”

“Who the hell spends that kind of money on this?”

Marcus shrugs. “It’s not uncommon for affluent art collectors to buy million-dollar pieces for their collections.”

“Yeah, but this?”

“Don’t tell me that you, of all people, are going to give me that old, tired dismissal of modern art simply because you don’t understand it.”

“This is a dildo,” you deadpan.

Marcus presses his lips together, nodding slowly. “...Some people have more money than sense.”

“Apparently.”

Your partner crosses over and picks up the file you’d dropped on your desk. “I spoke to the collector on the phone earlier,” he says as he scans the page. “Has a penthouse up in West End, told him we’d be up to do forensics this afternoon.”

“Yipee.”

“This is serious. It’s not every day that… ‘Arthur Feathermoore’s… Animals of Pleasure’… goes missing,” Marcus says, squinting down at the file as he reads the name of the sculpture.

You can’t help but snort at the title, and it causes your partner’s serious facade to dissolve into laughter himself, and the two of you giggling like rookies for a few moments before your eyes meet. Marcus’s face is the very picture of warmth, and as you often do, you feel as though you’re falling into his dark brown pools. The mirth is suddenly replaced by an uncomfortable silence that he breaks first, coughing awkwardly and looking back down at the case file in his hand.

“So anyways,” Marcus says brightly, “how about a little field trip up to West End?”

“You got it. I need to meet the idiot who spent a million dollars on a glass dildo.”

“Feathermoore’s Animals of Pleasure,” your partner corrects with a teasing smile.

“Quite the place,” Marcus comments as the two of you enter the ornate lobby of Maplebrook Heights, the building of luxury condominiums where your art collector lives on the top floor penthouse.

“I think it’s shit,” you say, eyeing the crystal chandelier hanging near the elevators. Something about the place makes you want to leave greasy handprints all over the spotless mirrors and stainless steel elevator doors.

You flash your badges to the lobby attendant, who picks up a phone receiver, listens for a couple minutes, nods, and sets it back down again.

“Mr. Phillips has been expecting you,” they say, leading you over to the elevators and pressing the top button without saying anything more.

When the doors open again, they reveal a man in a well-tailored suit with an overly-starched shirt and even starchier expression. The overall effect evokes a sort of statuesque rigidity–a man made out of stone. Suddenly, though, as if just noticing your appearance in the elevator, the man’s lips curl up into a smarmy, affectatious smile.

“You must be the feds,” he says in a buttery-smooth tone that you aren’t sure is real or as artificial as the rest of him seems to be.

“That’s us,” Marcus replies cheerfully, stepping forward and offering his hand. The man seems to pause, looking your partner up and down with his head cocked to the side before taking it and shaking it firmly.

Trying to be professional, you extend yours as well. Rather than give you the same firm handshake he offered Marcus, the man gently grasps your fingers and ducks his head as though he were about to kiss the back of your hand. Feeling off-balance, you give his hand an awkward squeeze and shake before stepping back quickly.

“It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Phillips,” Marcus says, expertly disguising your discomfort, much to your relief.

“Max, please,” the man replies with an amused pout. “Come this way, I’m sure you’re both dying to see the scene of the crime.”

You shoot Marcus a look behind Max’s back, raising one eyebrow at his odd phrasing. Your partner shrugs gamefully before following the suited man through the double-doors to his penthouse.

As soon as you’re inside, your eyes widen at the décor. Every available inch of wall is covered in artwork from the Renaissance to the Modern, and you suppress the urge to gasp in amazement.

“Quite the collection,” Marcus comments.

“Mm, yes. You could say that I've spent generations acquiring it.”

“So art collecting runs in the family?”

“Of course.”

“This piece, er–Animals of Pleasure–was that an inherited piece, or…?”

Max grins widely, showing a row of alarmingly white teeth. “That one was a personal favorite–the sculptor is an acquaintance of mine.” He walks through the living room to an empty display case and regards it with a little frown. “Look at that. Like a wooden stake to the heart.”

“Apparently it was the personal favorite of someone else, too,” Marcus remarks.

“You’re a funny one, I like that,” Max drawls.

“In your report, you said you noticed it was gone on the morning of Sunday the 25th,” you interject. “What were the circumstances leading up to that discovery?”

“I had a… rather sizable party here the night before,” Max answers with a crooked smile. “I assume the culprit was one of my esteemed guests.”

“Got a guest list?” Marcus asks.

“Of course I do.” Max produces a paper from a nearby desk with an exaggerated flourish.

“Anyone on this list that might have shown particular interest in the piece?”

“They’re all a bunch of vampires,” Max scoffs dismissively, waving his hand. “I’m sure there are more than a few of them who’d love to sink their… teeth… into my collection.”

“Are you suggesting this theft was out of revenge?” you ask with a confused frown. “Did any guests have a personal vendetta against you?”

“Now, now, I’m practically the life of the party,” Max chuckles. “Most of the attendees and I go way back. There’s no bad blood between us; if anything, I’d say this is simply a distasteful prank.”

“You called the FBI for a prank?” you can’t help but ask.

“I like it,” Max says, putting on what’s clearly his best ‘sad puppy dog’ face with exaggeratedly upturned eyebrows and pouted lips. “It’s the crown jewel of my collection, and I want it back.”

“Of course,” Marcus reassures the other man. “We in the Art Crimes division treat art theft with the utmost importance it deserves.”

“Ah, yes, the FBI, always as serious as the grave.” Max says teasingly, giving Marcus a simpering smile. You don’t like the way he’s looking at your partner–sizing him up in the same way one would a conquest… or a meal.

“We’ve got what we need, Mr. Phillips,” you say brusquely, snapping your notebook shut a little more forcefully than necessary.

“Of course, of course,” the other man says dismissively, as if he couldn’t care less about the whole affair.

“We’ll keep you informed of any progress,” Marcus adds, smiling amicably. He always did do a better job than you of hiding his distaste for unpleasant characters.

“You should go use the little girl’s room before you leave,” Max suggests, again flashing you a row of perfectly white, straight teeth. “Long drive back to HQ.”

You’re just about to tell him where to shove that condescending suggestion, when you suddenly realize it’s a great idea. It is a long drive back, and you don’t remember needing to before, but for some reason as soon as the suggestion leaves his lips, you find yourself needing to find a bathroom sooner rather than later. You nod and excuse yourself, turning your back on the odd twinkle in Max’s eyes.

What a weirdo. You’ve worked with some characters before–and sometimes it seems the richer they are, the more eccentric and out of touch–but Max Phillips really takes the cake. The uncanny smile, the stupid puns, the uncomfortable innuendo that you never could figure out were intended for you or for Marcus…

You hope the case wraps up quickly, is the point. You finish washing your hands on a towel that feels as though it has a higher thread count than any set of sheets you’ve ever owned and hurry back to the sitting room where the two men are waiting for you.

When you get there, Marcus is lying on the floor, unmoving.

“Marcus!” you exclaim in alarm, pushing past Max–who is standing calmly as though nothing unusual has happened–and drop to your knees beside him. “What the hell happened?” you demand, staring up at the other man.

“Dunno. He just collapsed.”

You want to scream at him. How can you be so indifferent? A man just collapsed in your home. Before you can say anything, though, Marcus coughs.

You whirl back around, cataloging Marcus’s face frantically as he opens his eyes and blinks dazedly.

“What–Why am I on the floor?” he asks, staring up at you in utter confusion.

“You tell me,” you murmur, placing your hand on his clammy forehead. “I came back and you were on the ground. Mr. Phillips says you collapsed.”

Marcus sits up blearily. You watch as he frowns and shakily brings one hand to his neck, feeling it gingerly as though he’d been injured, although you don’t see anything to indicate it.

“Yeah,” he agrees breathlessly. “Yeah, just… collapsed. Uh–” He looks around the room with wary eyes.

“Can you get up?” you ask, standing yourself and extending your hand.

Marcus nods and allows you to pull him to his feet. Once standing, he sways and blinks rapidly, as if he were dizzy. When you place your hands on his shoulders to steady him, he giggles, like he suddenly finds the entire situation hilarious.

You don’t share his humor.

“C’mon,” you say, grabbing his wrist and trying to lead him away. You can’t explain why, but something in your lizard brain is telling you to get out of there as quickly as possible.

“Feel better soon,” Max offers lightly, smiling that unsettling smile again. “Drink plenty of fluids.”

You don’t bother answering.

Marcus continues to be unsteady on his feet, and you end up having to help him down the front steps of the building and into the passenger seat of the car.

“Hi!” he slurs enthusiastically when you enter and sit down in the driver’s seat. “Wow, I feel really funny.” You watch with growing concern as he holds up his hands and examines them as though he’d never seen them before.

You don’t know how to respond, so you busy yourself with adjusting the seat to your height, since Marcus had driven you there. Pressing and holding the button, the electric motor whines as you slowly slide upward, then a good deal forward.

Marcus giggles again. “You have short legs.”

“Astute observation,” you grumble as you turn the key into the ignition.

“Legs,” he repeats, and laughs again.

“Jesus,” you mutter. “Marcus… were you drugged? Did Max Phillips drug you?”

“No!” he protests. “I… I don’t think so?” he adds, sounding less sure.

“What happened when I was gone?” you asked. “Before you collapsed.”

Marcus shrugs exaggeratedly and makes a nonchalant ‘nnNNnn’ sound.

“You don’t remember?’

“Nuh-uh,” he shakes his head. “Wait… he said… the–the guy?”

“Max?”

“Max! Yeah. He said uh…” Marcus giggles again. “He said… I was pretty? That’s weird. Is that weird?” he looks over at you, looking so concerned and worried that you almost laugh in spite of yourself.

“Little weird,” you agree.

“He said that I was pretty… and that it would be a shame to let that go to waste,” he adds, frowning down at his hands as he remembers.

“What the hell does that mean?”

“I guess it means I’m pretty,” Marcus says matter-of-factly, sitting back in his seat and grinning for a few moments before suddenly sobering again. “I think he was… gonna hug me?”

“Hug you?” you ask, looking at your partner in confusion.

“Yeah, he… he was really close, and–” Marcus’s hand absentmindedly touches his neck again. “Nah. Never mind. I don’t think that’s right.”

“I think he gave you something,” you tell him, starting to feel more and more worried by the minute. “You aren’t acting like yourself.”

“Hey! You know what sounds really good?” Marcus suddenly asks, sounding excited. “Tomato juice. Except… not tomato juice. Something like tomato juice, but… different.”

“Like a bloody mary?” you ask skeptically, humoring him.

He purses his lips, as though thinking deeply about something.

“Yep,” he finally agrees. “That’s it. Bloody mary.”

“Great,” you say as you pull in front of Marcus’s building. “Tell you what, you go to bed and sleep off whatever the fuck this is, and I’ll buy you all the bloody marys you can drink.”

You help Marcus up the stairs (nearly an impossible task, because he keeps stopping and looking around him as though he’s never seen a stairwell with chipped paint and cracks in the walls before) and when you finally reach his apartment, you unceremoniously deposit him onto his bed.

He’s asleep the second his head hits the pillow.

You watch him snore for a couple of minutes, completely at a loss for what to do now. All you know is that you can’t leave him–not when you don’t know what’s wrong with him. And something is wrong. Every nerve in your body is in agreement there: Marcus is not okay.

You resist the urge to press your palm to his cheek and gently trace the line of his cheekbone. He’s asleep. He wouldn’t know.

No. Even now, you can’t bring yourself to give into that temptation. Even with as worried about him as you are, physical affection is still way off limits. You’d be showing too much of yourself.

Shaking the thought, you turn and walk from the room, quietly latching the door on your way out.

And you wait.

And wait.

By the time Marcus’s bedroom door opens again, you’re nearly frantic with worry. Just the soft sound of the doorknob turning has you jumping to your feet and muting his TV. You watch as he stumbles out, one hand pressed to his forehead and the other steadying himself against the wall.

“How… How long did I sleep?” he asks, face a maelstrom of confusion.

You glance quickly at the clock. “Twenty-five hours.” And seventeen minutes. Not that you were counting.

“What? Jesus…” he mutters.

“How are you feeling?”

“Starving. Like I haven’t had a proper meal in years,” Marcus answers, moving past you into the kitchen, where he starts opening cabinet doors at random, pulling out food items, examining them with a frown, and discarding them on the counter.

“I could, uh, order something?” you suggest warily, watching him go about his task in a whirlwind of movement.

“That’s not necessary,” he answers absentmindedly, staring blankly at a can of pinto beans before putting it on the counter next to a jar of artichoke hearts.

“Well, I’m hungry,” you say, grabbing a takeout menu at random off of Marcus’s fridge with a little more irritation than is warranted. “Shit.” You hiss, jerking your hand back and watching as a sliver of red appears on your thumb, a little bead of blood welling up and threatening to spill out of the newly-created crack.

Before you can blink; before you can even react, before your brain even registers the movement, Marcus is there. With a low, desperate, almost animal sound, he grabs your injured hand and brings it to his mouth.

The taste of you seems to make him moan louder; he greedily licks and sucks at the wound as though he were parched and this small papercut his only oasis.

At the touch of his tongue, or maybe the feel of his saliva, a sudden, inexplicable wave of euphoria washes over you. You gasp softly, watching with open-mouthed shock as he licks and licks and licks until there’s nothing left.

Eventually, Marcus slowly–almost reluctantly–releases your hand and blinks rapidly as though he were waking from a deep sleep all over again.

Whatever spell that seemed to be holding you in place breaks; you jerk your hand back and stare at him in horrified confusion.

“Marcus… what the hell?!”

“S-Sorry,” he offers weakly.

“Have you lost your mind?” You can’t tell if your question is intended rhetorically or not.

“I… I don’t know,” he answers softly. “I don’t know.”

“That’s not a comforting answer,” you say dryly.

“I can’t stop thinking about it,” Marcus murmurs, quietly enough that you aren’t sure if he intended to speak the words out loud.

“Thinking about what?”

“How I want to– I want–” he begins, but whatever it is he wants, he never manages to say. Rather than finishing the sentence, his hand slowly comes up to–alarmingly–wrap around your neck, his thumb pressing directly on your pulse point. He’s too close; you can feel his rapid, heavy breathing against your face and all you can do is stare up at him, the silent question of what the fuck written in your eyes.

Suddenly, you’re being released and Marcus pushes you away, stepping back from you with an expression of abject horror all over his face.

“Leave,” he commands raggedly. “Please, you have to.”

You shake your head in protest, frowning. “Marcus, you’re not well–”

“LEAVE!” he roars, and you flinch as though he’d slapped you. In all your years as his partner, you’d never heard him yell. You take one more look at him–really looking, taking in his clenched fists, his heaving chest, and the odd, almost inhuman look in his eyes–and obey. Backing away slowly at first, and then increasingly quickly, you flee the kitchen.

Your hand is on his front door when you suddenly come to a halt. No. You can’t. You can’t leave him. You cast your eyes around until they fall on the door to the nearby guest bathroom. With a hissed curse under your breath, you open that door instead, slipping inside and locking it behind you.

For a few moments, all you can hear is the sound of your shaky breathing. Then, footsteps as Marcus approaches. They pause, as though he’s working out what happened. You jump, suppressing a shriek, when a loud thump resonates in the small room before you hear the unmistakable sound of someone sliding down the wall and onto the floor.

The heavy, defeated sigh is audible through the bathroom door.

“I told you to leave,” Marcus remarks sullenly.

“I left the kitchen,” you point out.

The answering silence lets you know what your partner thinks of that response.

“I’m scared,” he admits quietly. “Something’s… not right.”

“I’m here,” you tell him. “I’m not going anywhere. We’ll figure it out, okay?”

Marcus is quiet for so long, you almost begin to wonder if he’d fallen back asleep.

“I can feel you,” he suddenly whispers. “There’s a door between us, but I can feel your pulse like it’s still under my thumb.”

“Wh-what?”

“I can sense it all. Your heartbeat. The blood rushing in your veins. It’s unbearable,” he chokes out, voice breaking on the last word as though he were at the end of his wits.

“I don’t understand what that means,” you admit. “And I’m not gonna lie, that’s freaking me out more than a little bit, but I meant what I said. I’m right here and I’m going to help you, okay?”

“Okay,” Marcus whispers shakily. “I… I appreciate that. You–it–means the world to me. You being here, I mean.”

“Marcus,” you say, your heart pounding even more than it had been, “I–”

Whatever you had planned on saying is interrupted by Marcus’s cell phone.

“It’s Max Phillips,” your partner announces, somehow, after everything, jumping into work mode. “I’ll put it on speaker. This is Pike,” he answers.

“Hey, buddy!” Max’s voice is so cheerful compared to the tense situation you find yourselves in that it feels jarring and almost makes you physically recoil. “How ya feeling?”

“You,” Marcus hisses accusingly. “You did something to me.”

“Oh, that,” Max says dismissively. “I couldn’t help it.”

“Help what,” your partner growls.

“You haven’t figured it out yet?” Max laughs.

“Stop playing stupid and help us!” you shriek through the bathroom door, completely out of patience and good manners.

You’re greeted by crackling silence on the other end of the call. Then… “She’s… she’s still with you?” For the first time, the careless demeanor seems to have dropped. Max sounds… concerned.

“Not that it’s any of your goddamn business,” you snap, unable to stop the flood of anger now that you’ve released it, “but I was fucking worried about my partner after he left your house acting drugged–”

“Where are you?” Max interrupts. “I’ll come to you. Bring supplies. But she needs to leave. Now.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” you shoot back belligerently.

“Your funeral,” Max says, adopting the aloof nonchalance once more. To Marcus, he says, “Text me your address.” Then the line goes dead.

“Are you going to tell him where you live?” you ask skeptically.

“I don’t think I have a choice,” Marcus says quietly. “I don’t know what’s going on with me, but it’s clear that Max does. And if he knows, then maybe he can… stop it, somehow.”

“What did he mean, ‘bring supplies’?” you ask.

“Dunno,” Marcus sighs. “Guess we’re gonna find out.”

You’re forced to listen to Max’s arrival through the safety of the bathroom door.

No sooner than he walks into the apartment, you hear him stop and–is he sniffing the air?

“She’s still here,” he accuses.

“‘She’ can hear you,” you snap.

“She’s in there?” Max asks, sounding indignant. “Behind that flimsy-ass door?”

“It’s not that flimsy…” Marcus begins, but Max cuts him off.

“Pal, I’ve seen newly-turned vampires claw through cinder block walls with their bare hands to get at a food source. You could have ripped that door from its hinges, but here you are–”

“I didn’t want to hurt her,” Marcus interrupts. “I couldn’t fathom it, I– Hang on, did you say ‘vampires’?”

“Yup. Like, y’know, Dracula and all that. Undead. Drinks blood. Vampire.”

“This was a mistake,” Marcus mutters. “You’re clearly insane, and I don’t have time to listen to the bullshit ramblings of a sociopath.”

“Oh, it’s bullshit now, is it?” Max says airily. “You’re going to sit there and tell me you haven’t been sitting there desperately trying to stop yourself from ripping your pretty partner’s delicate little throat wide open and gorging yourself until she’s a withered corpse?”

You can hear Marcus sputtering angrily… but he doesn’t deny Max’s accusation.

“Great. Now, we can continue arguing over semantics and nomenclature while you just get more and more hungry, or you can accept the truth and drink this.”

A zipper–on a backpack, you assume–unzips, and the faint sound of crinkling plastic reaches your ears.

“What the hell is that?” Marcus asks, voicing your question for you.

“B positive. I won’t lie to you, O-neg is where it’s at in terms of flavor and mouthfeel, but beggars can’t be choosers, pretty boy.”

“Are you giving him blood?” you shriek through the door, but no one answers you. Irate, you bang on the wood. “Hello!?”

“He’ll be right with you,” Max says in a sing-song voice. “He’s busy at the moment.”

“Marcus,” you say lowly, “please tell me you are not drinking blood right now.”

“Mmph–so good,” your partner groans through mouthfuls of… something.

“I’m coming out there,” you announce, jumping to your feet.

“Wait,” Max commands, an odd timbre to his voice, and you stop immediately, your hand hovering six inches from the doorknob. “Not until pretty boy here has another pint.”

“Marcus,” you say warily, pressing your palm against the door as if you could somehow feel him through it.

“I’m okay.” And strangely, Marcus’s voice is calmer, more… human… than it’s been since the moment he woke up from his day-long nap. You still don’t trust Max. But Marcus has been your partner for years. You’d trust him with your life–and you find yourself believing him when he says it’s okay.

“One more,” Max says. “O-positive from 2020. Practically a vintage at this point.”

You shudder, imagining your partner with red tinged lips, a trickle of blood running down his chin as he–

“How are you feeling now?” Max asks.

“Better,” Marcus answers. “Can… Can she come out? Is it safe? I won’t… I won’t hurt her?”

“Depends on the vamp,” Max says. “Most newborns I wouldn’t trust within fifty feet of a pulse, but you? You’re an odd one.”

“I’d never hurt her,” Marcus says again. “I’d rather die.”

Max lets out a loud, barking laugh, as if Marcus had just told the funniest joke he’d ever heard. “That might be easier said than done,” he chuckles. “But I get the sentiment. Come on out, doll.”

In any other situation, you might have scolded Max for even daring to call you ‘doll,’ but your body is thrumming with anticipation–and a little fear–to see Marcus again.

Carefully, slowly, you unlock the bathroom door and swing it open.

Your gaze–as it usually does–finds Marcus before anything else. He’s sitting on the floor opposite the bathroom, his long legs awkwardly bent in the narrow hallway, with two crumpled blood donation bags laying beside him. He’s staring back, his eyes swimming with apprehension and worry. The strange, animalistic glint you’d seen earlier is completely absent.

Still, you find yourself moving cautiously and deliberately, as though a sudden movement might break this tenuous moment of peace. You carefully sink to your knees, at his level, and extend your hand.

Marcus swallows thickly, watching you. For a few tense moments, he doesn’t move. Then, he shifts–and oh, how you hate yourself for flinching. You try to hide it, but you can tell by the hurt in his eyes that he definitely noticed. Never once taking his eyes off yours, he slowly reaches back until his fingertips are just barely brushing against yours.

You don’t miss how Marcus’s breath catches at your touch. His eyes slip closed for just a moment, and he lets out a shaky exhale.

“Hi,” you say quietly.

“Hey,” he whispers back.

“You scared me.”

“I know. I scared me, too.”

“Is this real?” you whisper, hardly daring to voice the question. “You’re really–?”

“I think I might be,” Marcus says softly. “It’s… it’s the only thing that makes any of this make sense.” He gestures at the two empty blood bags he’d been given by Max.

Max.

In a fury, you round on the other man, grabbing the collar of his stupid-expensive shirt and slamming him against the wall.

“What the shit–” Max exclaims in surprise.

“You did this,” you hiss, pressing against his throat. “You… you made him into this.”

“I couldn’t help it,” Max wheedles, putting his hands up in supplication. “I thought he’d make a really sexy vamp.”

“I’m gonna kill you,” you growl.

“I’d love to see you try,” the man drawls with a lazy smile.

“Hey.” Marcus says softly, putting a hand on your forearm and encouraging you to release Max. “What’s done is done. This isn’t going to help anyone.”

“It’ll help me,” you say dryly, still glaring at Max.

“I can see why you like her,” Max grins.

You shove harder, your other hand coming up to join the first as you take out your anger on the man’s dress shirt. “Here’s an idea. Stop talking about ‘her’ while she’s still in the room.”

Max suddenly sobers, sniffing the air again. “You were bleeding,” he says accusingly. “When?”

“What? No I wasn’t,” you protest. “Well, okay, I got a papercut, but it stopped bleeding ages ago, after–”

“After what,” Max prompts.

“He–” you begin weakly, your eyes flitting quickly to Marcus and then back to Max again.

Max moves you away from him as if you weighed nothing at all, before turning to Marcus with a look of utter disbelief. “You fed from her?”

“Uh… yeah, I guess I did,” Marcus answers slowly. “I… I didn’t really realize what I was doing, I–”

“Did you puncture her skin at all?” Max interrupts. “This is important.”

“No,” you answer for him. “He just… licked it clean, I guess?”

Max stares at Marcus skeptically, then turns to you. “He just licked it,” he repeats.

“And… sorta… sucked?” you add weakly.

“What’s the problem?” Marcus interjects.

“Newly-turned vampires aren’t exactly in control of their bodily functions,” Max explains. “A puncture might mean inadvertently injecting venom into your bloodstream.”

“Which means…?”

“Which means this would have turned into a two-for-one vamp special.”

“He can make me a vampire?”

“How do you think he became one in the first place?”

“I wouldn’t remind me of your role in this too much, if I were you,” you growl at Max.

“...Venom?” Marcus asks, interrupting your standoff.

“It’s got some interesting properties,” Max says with a grin. “Injecting it in its pure form will a vamp create, but the trace amounts in your saliva is what makes feeding fun.”

“Do you ever actually explain yourself?” you ask irritably.

“Let me put it this way. When pretty boy here licked that little papercut of yours, what did you feel?”

You think back to the moment–through the fear, through the unease, back to the sensation of Marcus’s lips and tongue on your skin. Finally.

“It felt… good,” you admit quietly.

“Just good?” Max asks, pouting his lip teasingly.

“Better than good,” you whisper. “It felt like… joy. Like everything was right with the world.”

You risk a glance at Marcus, who is staring at you open-mouthed with an inscrutable expression.

“That’s the venom,” Max says with a shrug. “Creates a feeling of euphoria in small doses. Can also cause spontaneous orgasm.”

Marcus makes a pained choking sound, and Max slaps him on the back. “That’s the fun part.”

“How the hell do you… feed… from someone without accidentally killing them?” Marcus asks.

“Carefully.”

“No shit.”

“I can show you if you want,” Max says lecherously, making a show of sweeping his gaze up and down your body in the most exaggerated way possible.

“I think the fuck not.”

Max guffaws loudly, slapping his knee. “I knew you'd be a good time.”

“He is not your good time,” you interject.

“At least let him speak for himself, princess! Nah, as… interesting… as that could be, I can tell when a guy's unavailable.”

“Oh,” you laugh awkwardly, shaking your head. “He's not–I mean, we're not–”

“We're partners,” Marcus adds helpfully.

“Oh yeah,” Max agrees condescendingly. “For sure. Just partners. Well anyway, apropos of nothing in particular, I wouldn't recommend feeding from anyone you particularly care about for quite some time. Not until you can control yourself.”

“Speaking of,” Marcus says, clearing his throat, “got any more of these?” He holds up one of the empty blood bags.

“No,” Max says indignantly. “I have got some backup supplies, but I wasn't exactly prepared for this situation.”

“What are you talking about? You turned him yourself.”

“No, this situation. The situation where you're here, with your pulse and rushing blood and warm flesh. Your presence would be fucking kryptonite for any new vamp,” Max hisses. “You're a neon sign of temptation. A little hen in a henhouse with a very hard-to-control fox. Had you not been here, two bags would have lasted until pretty boy here could arrange his own supply, but you complicate things.”

“Well, excuse me for making sure he was all right,” you say, placing your hand on Marcus’s arm in a way you hope is comforting.

Marcus murmurs your name softly, but urgently. “Can... Can you… back up? Just a little,” he asks, looking pained.

Eyes widening, you take several hasty steps backward.

“How long will it take you to get more?” you ask, not taking your eyes off of Marcus.

“Any amount of time is too long when you insist on staying here,” Max says.

“It worked out fine the last time,” you point out. “I'll just go back into the bathroom and lock the door again.”

Marcus shakes his head warily. “I–I don't know… Maybe you should leave.”

“Not a chance.”

“I don't want to hurt you,” Marcus says softly. “I don't even want the idea of it. Please. You don't know what you–”

“What I… what?”

“What you mean to me,” he confesses, and you could swear time stops. “I could never risk it. I can't… I can't bear the idea of losing you.”

“You won't,” you promise.

“I didn't want this,” he says bitterly, casting an agonized glance at Max, who, for once, has the decency to look regretful. “All I ever wanted was you.”

You feel as though you’d just had the wind knocked out of you, the words affect you so deeply. Resisting the urge to steady yourself on the wall, you fix Marcus with a stare that you hope conveys every single emotion you’ve ever felt for him.

“I'm staying here,” you say. “And that's final.”

Both men shake their heads at the same time.

“What if... what if he uses me?” you ask Max, ignoring Marcus's protest. “You said it's normal to uh… feed off of live humans.”

“I believe I also said it's something he shouldn't even begin to consider until he's out of the newborn phase,” Max says.

“What if he's careful?” you ask. “What if you help him?”

Marcus softly says your name in warning, but you don't back down.

“Whatever I mean to you,” you tell him earnestly, “you mean the same to me. The same and more, Marcus.”

Time seems to come to a standstill as his eyes widen with realization.

“You… You feel the same?” he asks breathlessly.

“For a long time now,” you find yourself admitting.

You watch as a slough of emotions flicker across Marcus’s face–yearning, longing, affection, and regret.

“I… I wish I had known,” he murmurs sorrowfully. “Before now. I’d… God, I’ve imagined this moment so many times, and in none of those times did I ever tell you to back away because I’m worried I’d just as soon kill you as kiss you.”

“I guess you owe me,” you tell him with a little chuckle. “When this is over. When you aren’t hungry anymore. You can drink from me without hurting me, I know it. And Max is here to stop you if you–”

“This is all very cute,” Max drawls, interrupting you, “but okay. Let's say he's careful. Let's say I stick around to help and intervene if he loses control. I want to make sure you understand that this is… intimate, you understand? Like, I'm all for a sexy romp, myself, but I don't know if I stressed the effects of the venom enough before.”

“You mean the uh–”

“Spontaneous orgasms,” Max finishes for you. “Yeah. Wasn't kidding about that.”

“So, what you're saying is–”

“Is that I'm usually all-in for a feeding orgy, but you two have something else going on entirely, and call me a romantic, but I'd rather not get between you.”

“So you do have a conscience,” Marcus deadpans.

“If you tell anyone, I'll deny it.”

Marcus takes a deep breath, and suddenly shudders. “Shit,” he mumbles to himself. “Shit, I feel–”

“Like you’ve been wandering a desert for days on end with no water? Yeah,” Max shrugs. “That wears off, or gets easier to manage, I dunno. But after a while it’ll start to feel more like normal hunger and less like a–” he trails off, waving his hands back and forth.

“Like an all-consuming fire threatening to stamp out every last shred of my humanity?” Marcus fills in wryly.

“Yup,” Max answers. “Something like that.”

“Does it hurt?” you ask softly, reaching out to touch him again.

This time, it’s Marcus’s turn to flinch. He pulls back, eyes widening in alarm and leaving you to wonder whether you really should be this close. But no, your desire to comfort the man you’ve been secretly harboring feelings for for years overrides your sense of personal safety.

Or any kind of sense, whatsoever.

So you persist, running your hand up and down his arm soothingly and watching his eyes flutter shut at the feel of your skin. The expression on his face–agony, yearning, desperation–causes an ache to sink like a stone in your chest.

“Yeah,” he answers with a rough, strained note to his voice. “Yeah, it hurts.”

You look to Max with pleading eyes. “Help him,” you demand. “Help us. It was you who got us into this situation, so if you have any sense of morality left in there, make it stop hurting.”

Max’s eyes flicker dangerously. “As long as you acknowledge what that entails,” he says quietly.

“Blood,” you deadpan (Marcus shudders pitifully again), “I assume.”

The other vampire rolls his eyes. “Sure, right. Fine,” he mutters, scooting closer to you and Marcus. “First lesson. You don’t bite here–” he carefully taps his index finger on your neck. “That’s either gonna get you another vampire, or a corpse. The, uh, thighs–” he clears his throat awkwardly– “are good places to feed, but you’ve gotta be careful about the femoral artery.”

Marcus lets out a pained sound and presses the heels of his palms into his eyes with gritted teeth, rocking slightly back and forth.

“Alright, that’s enough lessons,” Max says brightly. “Good place to start for a newbie is the wrist. So, uh, you’re just going to want to puncture the skin a teeny tiny bit, and drink from that. Less is more, waste not, et cetera, et cetera.”

No sooner than the words leave the other man’s lips, Marcus’s fingers curl around your wrist like a vice grip, and you gasp.

“Jesus, hang on a minute,” Max sighs. “New vamps, always so lacking in table manners. Listen to me–you’re gonna probably lose control and try to take more than what she can give, and I’m going to do everything in my power to restrain you and get her away. Up to and including violence.”

Just as Max’s words leave you wondering whether this is actually a terrible idea and you should have done what Marcus had asked in the beginning and simply left, Marcus’s eyes meet yours again, his expression surprisingly clear-headed.

“I won’t,” he says softly. “I said I’d never hurt you. That’s a promise.”

Solemnly, you nod. “I know,” you tell him. “It’s okay. I trust you.”

You slowly reach toward Marcus with your palm facing upward like an offering. You’re suddenly hyper aware of your heartbeat racing, thrumming loudly and quickly in your chest, and you somehow have the wherewithal to wonder whether Marcus will get more of you as a result.

Marcus cradles your forearm as though it were a precious gift. You can feel the trembling in his hands, see the quiver in his lower lip as he tries to keep all his emotions–the hunger, the fear, the worry–in check.

“Tiny bite,” Max reminds him in a low voice. “Just the tip.”

You shoot him a disparaging look, but when you see the ghost of a smile on Marcus’s face, you realize he successfully broke the tension.

Hesitantly, he lowers his mouth to the delicate skin of your wrist, and just as you’re wondering where the hell the vampire teeth are supposed to be, his face… changes. You do your best to hold in the gasp that threatens to escape; you don’t want to startle the man and risk him accidentally tearing your flesh. He’d put a stake through his heart himself, you muse. Wait–is that a superstition or a fact? You make it a point to ask Max later as you watch Marcus with curiosity. His face, it’s not ugly, exactly, but certainly monstrous. It’s grotesque in the same way the circus can be grotesque–in a way that fascinates you, thrills you, draws you in…

Your mouth falls open in a silent gasp as you feel his teeth sink into you.

The split-second of pain melts immediately to a wave of pleasure like nothing you’d ever experienced before. Every nerve ending seems to tingle, sending a frisson of electricity up and down your spine–again, and again, with every lick of Marcus’s tongue. It’s every good sensation you’ve ever felt condensed into one moment, and somewhere in the back of your mind you wonder if any human has ever become addicted to being vampire food. You wouldn’t blame them.

Soon, though, the fact that a vampire is drinking your blood completely fades, because all you feel is unadulterated euphoria. Euphoria… and Marcus. Now you’re consumed with one thought and one thought only: get closer to Marcus. You scramble into his lap without a second’s hesitation, not hearing the sudden sound of surprise that comes from Max.

Marcus, who had been single-mindedly consumed in his task, looks up in apparent awe as you straddle him. The hand not gently holding your wrist immediately winds around your waist and pulls you even closer. Now that your eyes are locked, you can’t look away. Those beautiful brown eyes that you know so well are flecked with an animalistic yellow-amber, his brow sharper and more pronounced in his monstrous form but still very much Marcus. He holds your gaze as he lathes his tongue across your skin over and over, each lick causing flames of ecstasy to course within you. You can’t look away–not even when he swallows gratefully with red-tinged lips and dives back in for more. You start to squirm in his lap, each little wave of euphoria–a side effect of his venom, you know, but it feels so real–causing warmth to build in your core. Marcus moans around your wrist when he feels you grind against his leg, and you start to whimper every time your clothed center meets the delicious resistance of his thigh muscle.

As your movements become more and more frenzied, so do Marcus’s; he licks and sucks at the little twin puncture wounds with a fervor that could only be described as carnal. Everything starts to pull up tight deep inside you, and you know, you know what’s about to happen–but suddenly, another arm is there pulling you back, away from Marcus, away from this beautiful pleasure unlike anything you’ve felt before and how dare they, you’re so close, you’re so close, soclosesoclosesoclose–

“That’s enough. Enough,” someone is saying behind you. “It’s time to stop.”

Marcus lifts his head, his lips still smeared with your blood and his eyes dazed and glassy. His face, although still contorted into this macabre new form, is open and unguarded as he tries to comprehend the source of the interruption. As Max pulls you away more forcefully, however, Marcus bares his teeth and hisses at the other man in what’s clearly a show of territoriality.

In a split-second, before you can even begin to worry about being in the middle of a fight between two vampires, Marcus regains his wide-eyed, earnest expression, and his exaggerated features seem to melt, giving way to the face you know so well.

“I’m fine,” he promises, chest heaving. “I’m okay. I’m done, I’ve stopped. Please, can–” he swallows, looking up at you with pleading eyes. “Can you come back? I just–I need–”

Before he can finish his sentence, you’re scrambling back into Marcus’s arms to kiss him with everything you’ve got. He opens to you immediately, his tongue darting out to explore your mouth, and you shudder when you taste the tang of iron. It should disturb you, you think to yourself. The blood, the fangs, the fact that he could kill you at any second. You should find his distorted face horrifying, but you can’t help but be mesmerized by his features in any form.

Marcus’s hands are everywhere–rubbing up and down your spine, gently palming your face, reverently stroking the skin of your wrist as if to apologize for taking what he so desperately needed from you. You sigh contentedly into his mouth as your hands explore him in kind–carding through the hair at the nape of his neck, pressing against the soft muscle of his chest, tenderly tracing the little crease in his brow in an unspoken promise of forgiveness.

You’ve imagined kissing this man so many times, and yet you now know you’ve never once come close to the reality of how it feels to have his lips against yours. It might be cliché, you might be projecting your own desires here, but everything about Marcus’s mouth simply fits, like a puzzle piece. Like recovering a long-lost part of you. Kissing him is coming home.

When Marcus pulls back, you follow him, causing a joyful smile to spread across his face as he whispers, “Are you okay?”

You smile back as you nod.

“Here.” Something orange is thrusted into your field of vision, and you look up to see Max standing awkwardly next to the two of you, still entwined on the floor against the wall of Marcus’s apartment.

You accept the fruit–because it is fruit–and start to messily peel it before popping a slice into your mouth.

“Do you feel dizzy at all? Lightheaded?” Max asks as he watches you chew.

You shake your head. “Nope. Nothing like that. Just… kinda tingly,” you giggle, glancing back at Marcus. “Not in a blood loss way, more like in a um, well. You know.”

Marcus grins and pulls you back down for another soft, chaste kiss.

Pulling back, you give Max a smug look. “Told you he wouldn’t hurt me.”

“I won’t lie, I’m pretty surprised,” the other man replies, frowning slightly. “You don’t have any frame of reference for this, so you’ll just have to take my word for it that this is not normal. New vampires cannot control themselves and kill any living thing they try to feed from. Every time.”

“How many of those new vampires were deeply in love with the person they tried it with?” Marcus asks, meeting your eyes with an ardent gaze.

“Of all the times I’ve dreamed of hearing that from you, I never imagined it would come out quite like that,” you say with a wry smile.

Max makes something like a strained choking noise in his throat, grimacing uncomfortably. “Well kids, this has been fun, but I’m gonna get out of here.”

He sticks out his hand and you accept it, letting him pull you up to standing. Once on your feet, all the blood seems to rush away from your head, and you sway slightly.

“She should lie down,” Max comments, watching you.

Marcus nods in agreement and wordlessly (and effortlessly) lifts you into his arms and moves in the direction of his bedroom.

“Does ‘she’ get a say in this?” you protest, although this time it’s somewhat more good-natured than before.

Your answer is another kiss from Marcus before he gently sets you down on the comforter.

Sitting here, on Marcus’s bed, with him hovering over you, opens up an entirely new set of opportunities. The look in Marcus’s eyes lets you know his thoughts are along the same lines, and when he inhales, his breath catches in his chest.

“I’d caution you against that,” Max says in his characteristic deadpan tone from the doorway. “Really easy to lose control in the heat of the moment, and he’s still hungry.”

“Are you?” you ask Marcus hesitantly, who shrugs and drops his gaze.

“Was trying to be polite about it.”

“I didn’t let him take much,” Max explains. “Far easier to rectify taking too little than too much.”

“Does that mean he could do it again?” you ask, the breathlessness in your voice giving you away immediately.

Marcus is, predictably, the one who quickly tries to shut that idea down, murmuring your name and shaking his head in concern.

“You don’t know how it felt,” you whisper. “I think I’d do it every day if I could.”

“I don’t want to hurt you,” Marcus answers for what feels like the hundredth time.

“You won’t,” you promise. “And besides, Max will be here just in case.”

The two of you turn to the other vampire, who’s leaning against the doorway with an exaggerated sulk. “Oh sure, let’s ask Max. I’m sure he won’t mind watching you feed in the throes of ecstasy… again. Max has no opinion, Max can manage his own hunger, it’s fine.”

“Done pouting?” Marcus asks pointedly. “I think I’m justified in saying that you fucking owe me one.”

Max glowers, but offers no further protest.

“Is this wrist sore?” Marcus asks you, running one fingertip across your skin. “Should I do the other one?”

You shake your head slowly. “I had somewhere else in mind.” Capturing Marcus’s hand, you guide it downward until it rests on your inner thigh. “Here,” you whisper.

Max makes another garbled noise, which Marcus deliberately ignores. Keeping his eyes fixed on your face, he carefully sinks down onto his knees before you. Carefully, so carefully he unbuttons your pants and draws them down your legs, leaving you in your underwear.

“Fuck, I can’t–” comes the sudden exclamation from the bedroom doorway. “If this is retribution, I guess I deserve it, but still.”

You turn your head to look at Max, who appears to be doubled over in pain, and something pangs in your chest. Marcus, who is still fixated on the crux of your thighs, ignores the interruption.

“Marcus,” you whisper, getting his attention.

“He’s fine,” the man murmurs, clearly distracted.

“He’s hungry,” Max groans pitifully. “I might not be a newborn anymore, but I have feelings.”

“He can wait,” Marcus growls. The words sound slightly slurred, and when you look down again, you can see his fangs already protruding.

Max makes another pathetic whimper as Marcus runs his nose along your upper thigh and inhales greedily. You stop him with a gentle hand carding through his hair.

“Maybe we are being cruel,” you say softly. “He’s been trying to help.”

“He’s not feeding from you,” Marcus insists darkly. The possessiveness seems to make his face transform even more–his brow thickening and his eyes flickering with an eerie yellow glint.

“She’s–she’s yours,” Max agrees weakly. “I know. Just—shit.”

Marcus pauses, his tongue darting out to touch the tip of one elongated canine as though testing their unfamiliar shape.

“Come here,” he commands.

Max frowns, hesitating.

“Before I change my mind.” Turning to you again, Marcus strokes the sensitive skin just below the seam of your underwear. “May I?”

“You might be the politest vampire I’ve ever known,” Max muses to himself as he walks toward the bed with cautious steps.

“Please,” you whisper.

Marcus runs his nose against your thigh again before he lowers his mouth. You feel the sharp sting of his fangs for only a second before a sudden wave of pleasure overtakes you.

Perhaps it’s the change in location–from your wrist to somewhere much more… intimate, but this time the sensation of his venom feels even stronger. So much so, in fact, that everything pulls up tight without warning and you come undone while Marcus’s fangs are still buried within you.

You shriek in surprise, bucking your hips instinctively, but Marcus follows, sealing his lips around your thigh and sucking. Each aftershock makes the wound feel like it’s pulsing, but all you can do is writhe on the bed and whimper as the vampire–the man you love–takes from you.

Suddenly, though, Marcus pulls back, pressing his hand against the twin puncture wounds, which are still bleeding openly. With his mouth clearly full, he fists Max’s shirt collar, pulling him in for a rough kiss. Max makes a shocked noise–you think you do, too–but quickly groans in pleasure as Marcus gives him your blood from his own mouth.

Over and over he repeats the action: gently licking and sucking your thigh as you gasp and squirm under the euphoric influence of his venom, then pulling back to give some to Max before swallowing it himself.

The constant waves of pleasure reach a peak several more times, although you can hardly keep track. The combination of the venom and the blood loss, perhaps, is making you woozy, and you’re already drifting in and out when Max gently tugs Marcus’s hair and draws him back. You hear him say, “That’s probably enough,” before you lose consciousness entirely.

Everything is peaceful. You don’t think you’ve ever slept this deeply or felt relaxation this profound. When your eyes open again some untold amount of time later, you do so with a lazy, serene smile.

You blink lazily, trying to gather your senses and focus on the scene in front of you. You can feel the rise and fall of a strong chest beneath you, comforting arms surrounding you as you lay on Marcus’s bed. You know without looking that it’s him that’s holding you, keeping you safe and protected with his body.

To your surprise, Max–you figured he’d be long gone by now–sits at the bedside, watching you with an unreadable expression.

“She’s awake,” he says to Marcus, who immediately loosens his hold and gently tilts your head back onto his shoulder to look at you.

“Hey,” he says softly, brushing his thumb across your cheekbone. “You scared me a little, there.”

“Told him it was normal,” Max says, with the air of someone who’s said the exact same sentence fifty times already, “and that she wasn’t in any danger.”

“Still,” Marcus fusses gently, scanning your face with a slightly furrowed brow.

“Here,” Max interjects, handing you a small bottle of gatorade and making sure your hands are wrapped around it before pulling back. “Drink this, and once you can sit up, you need to eat a little something.”

You accept the drink gratefully and take greedy sips until the bottle is empty. When it is, Max sets it back on the nightstand and hands you a couple of oreos pilfered from Marcus’s cabinets, and the rest of the orange from before.

“How are you feeling?” Marcus asks–still with a hint of concern in his voice–as you eat.

“Really good, actually,” you answer with a sigh. “That was–listen, not to be weird or anything, but that was… amazing.”

Marcus chuckles low in his chest as Max smirks next to you.

“Can’t say I minded that particular method of feeding,” the other vampire comments wryly. “Might almost be better than from the source.”

Marcus clears his throat awkwardly, and when you glance up at him again, his ears are tinged pink.

“I didn’t know that about you,” you say softly.

Marcus tries to shrug noncommittally, blushing deeper as he does. “I like to keep my private life private.”

“Fair enough.”

“Don’t mind sharing with the people I care about, though,” he adds.

“Awww, he cares about me!” Max simpers with a teasing pout.

“I hate you,” Marcus counters with no conviction or malice behind the words whatsoever.

“No you don’t.”

“I was talking about her, though.”

“And me!”

“Children,” you sigh, shaking your head in exasperation. “I hate to interrupt, but can I trouble one of you bloodsuckers for some juice or something?”

Marcus raises one eyebrow at Max, who salutes sarcastically and marches out of the room.

“I can’t tell if I like him or if I can’t stand him,” you murmur to Marcus when the two of you are alone.

“Makes two of us,” your partner hums, ducking down to kiss your temple.

“Really?” you ask incredulously. “Didn’t look like you minded so much before.”

Marcus huffs quietly. “It was the solution that came to me at the time.”

“Is that all it was?”

He lets out a slow, even breath as he tightens his hold on you. “No.”

“Wanna talk about it?” you ask, as Max comes back with a glass of juice and another handful of oreos.

“Maybe later,” Marcus answers, sounding a bit bashful.

“Vampires have super-hearing, you know that–right?” Max comments as he moves back toward the bed.

“Wh–what?” the other man chokes out nervously. “Really?”

“...No.” Max hands you the glass of juice with a deadpan stare.

You try and fail to contain your laughter, snorting as you cover your hand with your mouth to disguise the smile.

“But now I know you were talking about me,” Max purrs, leaning toward the two of you.

“No,” Marcus lies–unconvincingly.

“Pretty boy,” Max chastises with that same childish, teasing pout he’s done before. “I thought so highly of you–don’t tell me you’re in the middle of some silly gay panic right now.”

Marcus snorts. “We’re too old for that, don’t you think?”

“You tell me.” Max’s expression is guarded, but you can tell he’s very invested in the other man’s answer.

“Truth is, I’ve harbored feelings for this one for a long time,” Marcus says affectionately, looking down and brushing his hand up your forehead and over the top of your head. “A long time. And it feels disingenuous to even consider the idea of treading on that, somehow.”

“Right,” Max says, standing up stiffly and quickly. “I’m gonna–”

“Wait.”

The vampire pauses, eyeing the two of you warily.

“In a way, it was you who… brought us together, in a way,” Marcus continues. “In a weird fucking way, I’ll add, but I can’t deny that this day has been… beyond my wildest dreams. And–” he swallows thickly, licking his lips before continuing, “–you were a part of that, for better or for worse.”

You carefully sit up, extricating yourself from Marcus’s arms to lean up and kiss him on the cheek.

“I’m not used to this much attention,” he adds, laughing self-deprecatingly as he shakes his head in apparent bewilderment. “And now I’ve got the two of you looking at me like that, and I’m not sure what to do with myself.”

“Enjoy it,” you tell him with a soft smile. “I love you. Max likes you. Maybe that’s all we need to know right now.”

“He can speak for himself,” Max teases, parroting your earlier words.

You look at him. “Did you really turn him because you thought he was pretty?”

“Can you blame me?”

#marcus pike #marcus pike x reader #marcus pike x f!reader #marcus pike x reader x max phillips #max phillips #the mentalist #bloodsucking bastards #pedro pascal

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harley-sunday · 1 year

Text

(Don’t You) Forget About Me

Summary: Charles promised her he would call her. Problem is, he doesn’t. Pairing: Charles Leclerc x reader [f] Warnings: None Word count: 2.6k AN: As soon as I published Champagne Supernova I was unhappy with how I ended things because I’m nothing if not a sucker for a happy ending and so here we are. I hope you enjoy :) As always, comments are very much appreciated. As are reblogs! And no, eL, we’re not turning this into a multi-chapter even though that is in fact the problem here and I seem to be only capable of writing two-part stories for Charles...

Champagne Supernova (aka part 1)

Charles watches as her fingers fly over his screen before she locks his phone and hands it back with a wicked smile, “Let’s see if you remember my name- Later.”

“Oh, I will,” he assures her, because he doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to forget it. He’s known her for not even an hour but already it feels like they’ve already spent a lifetime together, like she’s always been right there next to him, if only slightly out of reach.

“Good,” she says, interrupting his thoughts, and leans over the centre console, pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek that he can feel burn into his skin nonetheless. “I’ll be seeing you then.”

“You will,” he replies with a wink that he hopes makes him seem more confident than he is.

“Thank you for driving me home,” she tells him as she steps out of the car. “Drive safe.”

He’s not sure if she means now or when he’s back on track again next week but still he tells her, “Always.”

He doesn’t want to go, not really, but there are people waiting for him, people to take pictures with, and hands to shake, his only appeal that those people can then boast they know a Formula One driver. He hates it. Hates this part of his job. Hates that he has to leave her and this promise of something more behind but he knows he has to, and so he waves and tries not to look back because he thinks he’ll never be able to leave if he does.

***

“Where were you?”

He could have given a vague answer, could have told his older brother that he simply went outside for some fresh air, but instead he tells the truth because he doesn’t want to lie about her, “A girl bumped into me and I spilled my drink on her so I-”

Lorenzo gestures at his chest “So where’s your jacket.”

He shrugs, because isn’t it obvious? “I gave it to her.” Then, as if that’s what Lorenzo will be worried about, “I’ll get it back. Later.”

His brother eyes him suspiciously but doesn’t say anything and instead starts taking off his own jacket and hands it to Charles with a nod towards the dining room, “Here, you’ll need this for the pictures. They’re waiting for you.”

Charles figures they can wait a little longer and takes his time putting the slightly too big jacket on, still thinking about her. The way her dressed hugged her curves, even more there where his drink soaked the fabric and-

“Charlie,” Lorenzo flicks the side of his head with an exaggerated sigh, “where’s your head at?” He gives him a gentle shove towards the door and repeats his earlier words, “They are waiting for you.” And because Lorenzo is his older brother and always seems to know exactly what is going on in Charles’ mind he winks and adds, “You can tell me about her later.”

***

“So I drove her home,” Charles says, coming to the end of his story, “and told her I would be back for my jacket.”

Next to him Lorenzo keeps his eyes on the road and nods but from the backseat Arthur lets out a low whistle before he leans forward and rests his elbows on the seats on either side of him, “So you’re just going to show up at her house or-?”

Charles smiles and shakes his head, “I asked for her number and-”

“Oooh,” Arthur draws out and ruffles Charles’ hair. “Very smooth, frérot.”

Charles ignores him, “-I’ll call her later this week.”

***

He doesn’t.

He doesn’t call and he doesn’t pick up the jacket. He wants to. God, does he want to but he gets home late and the next morning, before he’s even had the chance to replay last night’s events in his mind, he gets a call from Mattia who asks- Makes him fly out to Maranello that same day. Something about more testing, more meetings with the team, more efforts to turn the season around to try and clench the championship. He goes, of course he does.

He still has a chance to become world champion and it’s everything he’s ever worked for in his life and so he goes and he doesn’t call.

***

After a week in Maranello the triple header starts. Spa first, Zandvoort next, and then Monza. Two podiums in three races isn’t bad, but he doesn’t win and so it doesn’t really count. Max is more than a hundred points ahead of him in the standings but Charles still thinks he has a chance and so he stays in Italy after Monza for more time at the factory, more adjustments, and more time on the sim.

It’s not that he’s forgotten about her, he doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to, it’s just- It’s been too long for a casual text or call and so he’s starting to make a bigger deal out of it than it probably is and still doesn’t call.

***

The championship is decided in Japan, with a penalty that drops him from second to third place after the race. Somehow it doesn’t surprise him that this is how he finds out he’s not going to be world champion this year. It seems- Fitting.

That night, when he’s alone in his hotel room somewhere in Suzuka, is the first time he actually pulls up her contact and lets his thumb hover over the call button. It’s been eight weeks since the fundraiser - he knows because of course he’s kept track - and he doubts she even remembers him. Doubts she even still has the jacket. And so he locks his phone and once again doesn’t call.

***

He fights for second place the remaining five races of the season, a heated battle with Checo that gets decided in Abu Dhabi during the final race. In his favour this time. And while he much rather would have been crowned world champion, coming second to a superior Max Verstappen and a superior Red Bull is the best he and the team could do this year. Next year. Next year it will be him, he decides.

After Abu Dhabi, after post-season testing, he goes back to Maranello for the team’s detailed debrief of the 2022 season, a week-long affair that has him cooped up in meeting rooms for most of the day. He stays in Italy because a week later he has to be there for the FIA Prize Giving Ceremony in Bologna anyway.

He still doesn’t call.

***

It’s when he’s getting ready for the FIA event, putting on his Ferrari-issued suit, that Lorenzo asks, “Did you ever get your jacket back? The one you lent to that girl?”

Charles shakes his head, “No, I-”

Lorenzo lets out a frustrated sigh in a way only a brother can, “You didn’t call her?”

“No,” Charles says as he buttons up his shirt. “I did not.”

Lorenzo mutters something under his breath that Charles just knows in an insult and so he doesn’t bother with a reply. His older brother doesn’t relent that easily though, “You are an idiot, you know that? I thought you really liked her?”

“I did,” Charles agrees easily enough. Corrects himself then, “I do. I think. But-” he shrugs, “-it’s almost been four months, I doubt-” He ducks just in time to not get hit in the head by his phone that Lorenzo hurls at him from across the room, sending up a silent thank you to Andrea for all those reflex exercises he always insists on doing, even during off-season. He throws his brother a look, “What did you do that for? You could have-”

“Call her,” Lorenzo says, pointing at the phone that bounced off the wall and landed on the floor with a miraculously intact screen. “I don’t need you moping around, thinking about what could have been, over the winter break, Charlie. Just call her, take her on a date, and hey-” he shrugs with a sly smile, “-if you do get your jacket back well then that’s a win-win, non?”

He doesn’t call right away but promises himself he will. Later.

***

“The jacket you are trying to reach is no longer available. Please try again later.”

He can’t help but laugh and looks up at the house he’s standing in front of as he runs a hand through his hair, letting it rest at the base of his neck because all of a sudden he’s nervous. He tries to hide it with a confident, “Salut ma chérie, I’m sorry for not calling any sooner but-”

“Don’t try to sweet talk your way back into our lives, Leclerc-”

“Our?” Shit. The possibility that she might have a boyfriend never even crossed his mind. He quietly curses himself, it’s been four months, of course she didn’t sit around and wait for him to maybe call her. Stupid. Stupid, stupid-

“The jacket’s and mine,” her voice interrupts his thoughts. “We are doing quite well for ourselves.”

“Hmm,” he hums, his smile returning. He takes a step closer to the front door, “Is that so?”

“Yeah.”

“I’d like to come see that for myself,” he says, his finger already hovering over the doorbell.

“Hmmm,” she draws out. “We might be able to arrange a supervised visit. When would you-”

He pushes down on the button and chuckles, “Now?”

“Now,” she echoes, a hint of disbelief in her voice. “Yeah- Ok. Sure. Let me just-”

The light inside the hall comes on not much later and he sees a silhouette walking towards the door. Charles takes a step back and hides the flowers he’s got her behind his back. When the door opens, the light from inside framing her face like a halo, he knows he’s done for and vows right then and there to call her every day if she’ll let him. “Hi.”

“Hi,” she says, a little uncertain, and gestures at her jeans and hoodie, “I’m sorry, I wasn’t expecting anyone-”

“You look beautiful,” he assures her and means it. She could be wearing a garbage bag and he’d still think she’d be able to take his breath away. He holds the flowers out to her, “For not calling sooner.”

She smiles as she takes the flowers from him, “That’s very kind, thank you.”

He doesn’t really know where to go from here, doesn’t really know how to explain why he didn’t call, and he almost feels as helpless as he felt when he accidentally spilled his drink on her.

Just like that night, she takes charges and steps aside, “Come on. I’m sure your jacket will be delighted to see you.”

***

She’s offered him a drink and this time he accepts and so he finds himself sitting at her kitchen table not much later, his jacket hanging from her chair and if a garment could, he’s sure it would mock him. There’s a cup of coffee in front of him and he watches her as she makes one for herself too. When she sits down across from him he makes himself look at her when he says, “I really am sorry for not calling sooner. I didn’t mean to- What is it? Ghost you?”

“Well, you did, Charles. Disappeared like a ship in the night,” she mimics the movement with her hand but there’s a smile on her lips that he hopes means he still has a chance.

He hangs his head, guilt washing over him, “I know. The second half of the season was so crazy and I know that’s no excuse-”

“Just don’t do it again.”

It takes him a second to register her words and so he sits there with his mouth open, gaping like a fish, until he can feel himself start to smile, his hope renewed when he sees the way she’s looking at him, like she’s challenging him to not recognize this second chance that for some reason, only known to her, she has granted him. He shakes his head, “Never.”

***

At some point they move from the kitchen to the living room, her with her knees folded up under her in one corner of the couch and him angled towards her in the other. He’s told her about the last few months, the pressure he felt, not only from the team and the fans but also from himself. How it was a fight until the very end, not just on track but off track as well, with endless hours spent in the factory and on the sim.

Some of the questions she asks in between his stories tell him that she’s actually watched the races and it makes him feel both incredibly happy that she cared enough to do so and even more like an idiot for not calling her sooner.

When he tells her so she agrees with a kindhearted smile.

***

It’s only after she’s stifled a yawn during a lull in their conversation that he risks a glance at his watch and sees that it’s already past midnight. He smiles at her, “It’s late, I should probably let you get some sleep, no?”

She shrugs apologetically, “It’s been a long day-”

“Don’t worry about it,” he tells her as he pushes himself up from the couch and waits for her to do the same before he walks to the front door where he turns around and finds her standing there with a hesitant smile that makes him want to kiss her.

And so he does.

Taking a step closer, he licks his lips and lets his eyes fall from to her mouth in a silent question. When she tilts her head back and looks up at him he leans in and lets his lips brush against hers before he captures her mouth with his and deepens the kiss.

She puts one hand against his chest and pulls him closer with the other, which has found its way to the back of his neck.

His hands are on her hips, gently pushing her up against the wall as he lets his tongue run over her lower lip. When she opens her mouth he sighs against it, enjoying the way she tastes- Something sweet, like an apple maybe, and then he slips his tongue inside and she moans and he knows that if he doesn’t stop now he’ll regret it forever. He pulls back and lets his forehead rest against hers, breathing heavily.

“Don’t stop,” she whispers, hands gripping the fabric of his sweater in an attempt to bring him back.

He shakes his head, “I want to do this right, ma belle.”

“It’s not actually like you’re doing it wrong now,” she counters, sounding as out of breath as he feels.

He chuckles and pulls back a little further so he can look at her, “Go on a date with me.”

Her eyes widen before she narrows then, a mischievous smile on her lips, “Why don’t you call me first and we’ll take it from there.”

He can’t help the laugh that escapes him because that seems entirely fair, “I will.”

“Good-”

“Good,” he echoes before he presses a more chaste kiss to her lips. “And I won’t wait four months this time.”

“Don’t you dare,” she says and pushes him back and towards the door. A little quieter then, “Don’t you dare.”

He gives her another quick kiss once he’s opened the door, “I’ll see you soon.” When she nods he steps outside, the feeling of hope renewed blooming in his chest. He’s almost at his car when he looks back, a little surprised then because while the front door is still open she’s gone and so he turns around, ready to head back inside to see what’s going on.

“Hey, Leclerc,” she says then as she steps into the hall again, walking towards him with his jacket dangling on one of her fingers. “Aren’t you forgetting something?”

He shakes his head and smiles widely at her, “Keep it. I can come pick it up later.”

#Charles Leclerc x reader #F1 Fanfic #Charles Leclerc Imagine #Charles Leclerc fic #F1 imagine #Harley Sunday x Charles Leclerc

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shawnxstyles · 1 year

Text

come back…be here

DATE: JANUARY 11, 2023

summary: tom has to film a movie in london while you have to stay and work in new york. the distance drains you both, craving to be closer than a phone call. once the challenges subside, you’re in his arms and everything feels like home again.

request: yes!! read this for more information!

song: Come Back… Be Here- taylorrr / Car’s Outside- james arthur

words: 4.1k

warnings: heavy on angst!!, fluff, SMUT (m-receiving [oral], f- receiving [fingering], unprotected sex [two positions], dirty talk, praise kink), little language, and pining. (dramatic lol)

note: i used a quote from cherry because it’s one of my favorite lines with tom and i think it would be perfect here. this is very dramatic, but i don’t care :D #angsty

—

NEW YORK

The sun peeks out from the curtains, alerting your body to wake up. The rays cause your weary eyes to squint as you push yourself up from the bed. You breathe softly in the silence of your own presence. Tilting your head, you gaze at the emptiness that lies in bed next to you. You frown when you feel a pang of pining form in your chest. Ruefully, you untuck yourself from the covers, feeling colder than you did yesterday. And the day before that. And the week before last. It felt like the longest two weeks of your life and you still had two more to go.

Tom had gone filming in London for a movie he was extremely excited about. You knew he had no choice: it was going to happen eventually. But that didn’t make the goodbyes any easier. And it felt harder this time.

This wasn’t your first rodeo being a famous actor’s girlfriend; Tom’s left to film a variety of movies while you were together. The longest he’s ever been gone for was two weeks without a break, and that was a struggle.

It was a tradition for you two to call each other every night, even if you were exhausted from a long day and he was tired from filming. You imagined the way his lips spoke I love you when you talked on a normal phone call, but it would never amount to him physically whispering softly in your ear.

You wanted to go with him, you really did. You’ve been to London countless times to be with his family, so it wouldn’t have been a big deal. However, you were battling for a higher position at work and your absence for a sudden vacation wouldn’t make you look too good.

Tom had convinced you to stay, knowing how important your job is to you. In reality, you didn’t need a job if you were going to spend the rest of your life with a Hollywood actor, but you both knew that wouldn’t stop your independence from flourishing. You loved being with Tom because he encouraged you to not only be better, but to be great, and to be you. His faith in you has gotten you through some of the toughest moments of your life. Tom could say the same for you. He admired your hard work and independence so much that it motivated him. You were the brightest light in his life that saved him from any harmful darkness.

You didn’t have a doubt in your mind that you loved each other. You only fell harder every day.

As you sourly complete your morning routine in empty silence, you get dressed in your work clothes before heading out the door. Work helped distract the depressing yearning in your chest as you competed for the promotion. The days felt slower the more that passed, the desire to stay focused leaving your mind with the lack of motivation. You didn’t rely on Tom’s ability to encourage you, but God, did it help. His presence alone was graceful and endearing. He could convince you to run a marathon at midnight if he simply gave you those adorable puppy eyes that make you fold every time.

Every night, you leave work at the same time, rarely staying late. Every night, you do your nightly routine after a quick shower. Sometimes, you added a good cry because you just needed to cry. But every night for the past two weeks, you lie in bed with heavy-weight eyelids as you wait for a phone call.

—

LONDON

For most of his scenes, Tom got to wear a watch. It was hard for him not to avert his eyes to the time as he waited for the film to wrap up for the day. If he didn’t get to wear a watch, he would ponder at the sun’s angles to determine how long it would be until nightfall. When the sun would dip just below the hills, he knew he was a day closer to being home to you.

He packed the small carry-on he brought to set and quickly left with short goodbyes to the crew and his cast mates. Tom was staying at his parents’ house, since it was close to where the movie was being shot. He tried not to be loud when he trudged through the dark hallways of the house, feet padding the sleek, wooden floors.

His body collapses on the creaky bed, drained from constantly missing you. Yes, his job was physically and mentally demanding; some roles took him months to prepare for, like Cherry. But he swears your absence makes his heart beat slower, like he’s deliberately dying without being with you. It was killing him to be hundreds of miles away from you for so long without a break.

Tom’s muscles and brain scream at him to close his eyes just for a moment to rest, but he refuses. He hasn’t gotten any decent sleep since he’s left your side, and he hopes it doesn’t affect his acting. He silently showers, cleaning the work of today off of him. Painfully, he continues to resist the urge to consume himself in his duvet, eyes fluttering and nearly rolling backwards. The electronic vibration in his hand jolts an ounce of energy in his muscles, allowing him to answer before he passes clean out.

—

NEW YORK

“Hey,” You breathe out weakly, eyes sorrowful. You attempt a smile, but it’s too weary. Your face feels too heavy to make such a joyful expression.

“Hey, baby,” Tom croaks with his cheek squished against a pillow. His voice was gravelly and shushed, his eyes mostly closed, even as your face was present in front of him. All he needs is your voice, the perfect lullaby that can send him straight to sleep.

“I miss you,” Lip quivering as you sigh the words. Your teeth clench as you hold back the sudden urge to cry. You take the rest of any energy you had left to maintain your emotions, so Tom doesn’t worry too much. You both know how badly you miss one another, but Tom doesn’t need to know that you’ve been crying alone. “a lot.”

He would drop everything and fly home just to wipe away your tears.

“I miss you so goddamn much, baby,” His hand rubs over his weary eyes, trying to focus on you instead of the nauseated need to sleep. “Wish I could hold you.”

“Wish I could touch you,” Breathing unevenly, you bite your lip to contain the crying inside of you.

“Just a little longer, darling,” He sighs as a large yawn arises in his throat.

“You’re so tired, baby. You need to rest,” You almost break at his fatigued and fragile state, body demanding sleep. It was almost eight o’clock in New York, meaning it was almost one A.M. in London. He most likely wrapped up in the evening, so he must have stayed up until you were off of work to talk. Tom’s done that every night since he’s left, and your heart aches even more.

“Not yet. Just a little longer, love,” He repeats similarly, another yawn summoning from him as his head nudges deeper into his pillow like a sleepy child. He imagined the pillow to be your lap or your chest, so his body would give in to the rejected feeling of the fabric.

Although you were miles away, the silence was comfortable enough because he knew you were there, just not completely.

“Goodnight, Tom,” You whispered into the microphone, wishing you could caress the soft, damp curls on his forehead until he drifted peacefully to dreamland. But watching him fall into a much needed sleep over FaceTime was the best you could get right now. “I love you. So much.”

“Goodnight, m’angel,” Tom mumbles groggily and quietly. “I love you too.”

Soft snores wheezed from his thin lips, making your lips curl up the slightest as you admire him. Your heart was pained to see him so exhausted. It saddened you so much that a tear finally slipped from your eye and onto your pillowcase, leaving a familiar stain in the fabric. With one last look at him through your now glossy eyes, you sniffle quietly and end the call.

A few more silent tears fall from your cheeks as you turn off your bedside lamp. You replay his words in your head like your favorite song to help you slowly coast to an empty sleep.

Your heart chases the hundreds of miles separating you, yearning for your boyfriend to come back and be here.

—

TWO WEEKS LATER, NEW YORK

Your head nearly falls on your laptop from exhaustion. Your eyes would start to roll to the back of your head if you didn’t shake your body awake. You rub your eyes as you glance at the time. According to Tom, his flight should have landed by now and he should be on his way home. Finally.

However, this was the worst day for him to come back because you had to stay late at work preparing last-minute charts and emails. Usually, all of that could wait for the following day because working on an empty tank never did you any good. But since the promotion announcement would be soon, you had to be two steps ahead of your competitors. Plus, you had tomorrow off, so you had to get double the work done today.

Once you finish your current assignment, you delicately close the laptop and shut off your monitor. Flicking off the lights in your office, you drop your phone in your bag without glancing at it.

Weariness blurred your vision, and it felt unsafe to drive in such a tired state. The only thing keeping you awake was that Tom would be there not long after you, and you would finally get to sleep in his arms. If you weren’t so tired, maybe you would leap into his arms like the movies, but Lord knows you could barely walk.

You unlock the front door to a dull house; quiet, cold, and dark. You slip off your shoes and trudge up the small set of stairs into your bedroom. You repeat the same routine as you would if you were alone, but this time you knew he would be coming home.

When you’re comfortable in your pajamas, you poorly make the bed, so it looks more appealing than the hot-mess you’ve been laying in for the past month. Once you’re settled, you peer at the clock on your bedside table, wondering why he hasn’t made it home yet.

Grabbing your phone for the first time since this morning, you turn it on and crinkle your eyebrows at Tom’s newest messages.

T: Lovie my flight got delayed.

T: Hey baby. Can’t wait to see you. Getting on now.

T: Halfway home baby. Text me when you’re home x

You frown at the words, sighing heavily when looking at the time stamps. His last text was from the early evening. You huff, upset at yourself for being too hypnotized in your work to pay attention to your boyfriend coming home. Based on his texts, he should be home in an hour at best. You place your phone to your chest and close your eyes as you slide down your headboard until your head lays flat on the pillow. You fight the urge for as long as you can, but sleep holds you captive until you're consumed in it.

—

NEW YORK

Tom pushes through the door rolling his two suitcases and carrying his backpack on his shoulders. His limbs ache as he tramps up the stairs, the weight of his exhaustion yanking him toward the floor. Your car was in the driveway, so he’s sure that you were home even if the house is quiet. The bedroom door is cracked, so he trudged inside and plopped his baggage on the floor. He finally glances at your figure, motionless and allayed as your quiet breathing fills the emptiness.

He stalks over to your side, gazing at the sleeping beauty with a sigh. Tom’s rough hands delicately whisk your hair from your face before he places a tender kiss to your forehead. Your breathing falters and your eyelashes flutter, but you stay sound asleep. Tom gets ready for bed before slipping in right beside you.

Tom wraps a secure arm around your waist and subtly tugs you closer, bodies already warmer from the proximity. An inch of a smile manages to crawl up his lips even as tired as he is. His weight sinks further into the mattress as fatigue overtakes him.

A few hours later, you awake in the middle of the night with a muscular arm snug around your waist. Your heart jumps in excitement and you attempt to turn around, but realize that he’s probably asleep for the first time in a while. It’s hard to relax, while you try to rest knowing that Tom is finally home again.

You were in his arms and that’s all that mattered.

—

HOME

The sun shines brightly behind the curtains, but more graceful than it had been the past month. The sound of birds joyfully chirping and a small breeze alarm you peacefully to awaken. Your brain and body are quick to notice the heavy arm encompassing you, feeling its weight with every breath you take. You smile, but hold it back, saving all of your exuberance for Tom. You shift around anxiously excited, gazing lovingly at his adorable face; mouth slightly opened, crinkled eyes, and his cute nose. He was here, he was really here.

Without resisting, you kiss his cheek. And then his jaw. And then his neck. And then his bare shoulder as you remove his arm from you. And then his naked chest, sending little shockwaves of electricity through his body. You wanted to love him all over because of how estatic you were, and how much you missed him.

Tom inhales sharply, sensing your actions and wakes up blissfully. Eyes fluttering, he peers down at the top of your head kissing and caressing down his torso.

“Love,” He croaks groggily, voice crackly and warm like a burning fireplace. His hand pets your hair, smoothing it gently as you look up toward him. You don’t say a word, only a huge grin before you plant your lips onto his.

Both of your hearts overflow with much needed attention and love as your lips move in flawless sync. Slowly and passionately, your mouths mold together like missing pieces of a puzzle finally connecting. Your body collapses on his as your hands intertwine with his brown curls, elbows on either side of his head. His strong hands remain locked on your jaw, thumbs massaging the apple of your cheeks. For a breath, you painfully pull yourself back as you both gasp for air. Forehead to forehead, you listen to the panting and hearts beating.

“You’re back,” You smile shyly, happiness sparkling in your irises like a cartoon.

“I am, darling. Did you miss me?” He jokes, knowing you missed each other so crazily you couldn’t act normal. You two were so connected, being apart meant missing the other half of you. You huff a laugh and roll your eyes before kissing him greedily again.

“So much. I missed you so much,” You lead the kiss down to his jaw, sucking softly as he smiles. “Let me show you how much.”

His smile curls higher as you crawl down his body. Your sweet kisses leave invisible tattoos on his skin, making him sigh from how much he missed this. From how much he missed you. You twiddle with the waistband of his boxers until he persists you continue, so you do.

Now completely naked, his morning glory stands hard with an ounce of pre-cum at the tip. You rub the juices around his tip, causing him to hiss. Saliva runs down the length of his cock as your hand wraps around him. You stroke up and down deliberately, Tom’s breathing heaving as you gradually pick up your pace.

Your mouth hovers over the head before you lower yourself on to it. He moans hoarsely, throat raspy with lust. Your tongue glides along his prominent veins, exploring every inch that could fit in your mouth until his slit tickled the back of your throat. Your hand strokes consistently as your head continues to bob for his pleasure. Your panties dampen at his guttural noises, a rough hand delicately lacing in your hair. He resists the urge to push you lower as he holds onto you.

“Fuck, Y/N. Missed that mouth. Missed—fuck— you,” He grunts when you gag subtly, his abs tensing. Your nails scratch his muscular thighs, making his legs contract as his high approaches him. Although he’s so close, he halts your movements, so he doesn’t explode in your mouth. “Don’t want to come yet.” He grumbles weakly.

Your mouth pops off of him as drool dribbles down your chin. Your hand continues to lightly stroke him as he wipes it away. He crashes his lips to yours before flipping you over, never breaking the kiss.

“Now, can I show you how much I missed my girl? My sweet girl,” He trails down your neck, sucking love bites under your ear. You whimper in response to his words, hands creeping up his bare back for grip.

Once your shirt and panties are discarded, Tom’s fingers dance around your hips playfully as you widen your legs welcomingly. Arousal glistens in the sunlight like magic, lust consuming his eyes at the sight of your soaking slit. Knuckles brushing your clit, he rubs gently, eliciting a needy moan from you. Knowing how much time you two have been apart, he doesn’t waste time slipping a finger easily into you. You gasp, clenching around him instantly.

“So wet for me. Guess you really did miss me,” He grins, adding another finger into your tight cunt as your eyes squeeze shut. One hand rests on your knee as he pecks your stomach, thrusting and curling his thick fingers in you. His thumb circulates your aching clit, relieving some of the consistent throbbing with the rough texture. “Love your cunt. Always so tight for me.”

“God, Tom,” You wheeze at his vulgar words with such a loving tone, clit pulsating despite his constant pressure on it. His voice with his choice of words always got you off because he always knew what to say.

“Love your legs. Love your breasts,” His free hand makes its way up your body until his fingers are twisting the hard bud. You inhale sharply at the sensation, back beginning to arch. He leaves your breasts neglected and caresses your lust-filled face. “Love your lips,” He pecks them softly. “Love your eyes. Let me see them.”

You open your eyes as his fingers plunge deeper into you causing a trembling moan to fall out. His chestnut eyes admire your expression as you wither gracefully away from his longed touch. Clenching desperately around him, your core contracts and you bite your lip as the sensation grows on you.

“I-I don’t want to come yet, either,” You whine, strangled by overwhelming pleasure. Tom obeys and slowly removes his fingers from you. You feel empty, but you know you won’t for long once his cock is deep inside of you.

Tom pumps himself a few times, tip rosy and neglected, before teasingly spreading your shiny arousal around your folds. Your hands intertwine around his neck as he slides his length inside.

Shuddering moans and stillness are found in you both, too overwhelmed by the moment. Tom forces himself to move as your pussy contracts around his member dangerously tight. His thrusts are steady and deep, so deep, there wasn’t a part inside he wasn’t hitting. Every inch of you felt full after being so empty for so long.

A sweet, little cry releases from you as his pace picks up, his cock becoming consumed by your velvety walls.

“You’re so tight, lovie,” He achingly groans. With your constant mewls in the air and cunt squeezing him heavenly, he steadies at a pace that is perfect for you both.

Your thumb caresses his face lovingly as your legs wrap around him to push him deeper. Your eyes connect as passion, lust, and love flow inbetween you. In this moment, you feel your souls let go of any past pain or suffering and allow themselves to give in to each other. At this moment, you feel more entwined with Tom than ever before. For a moment, you forget about everything else in the whole world besides the two halves of the same soul fusing together again.

You pull your eyes away subconsciously as your stomach contracts and cunt flutters around his cock. Back arching and nails digging into his shoulders, you pant and whine at his depth while he whispers sweet nothings in your ear.

“You’re so deep,” You moan as your body becomes tense and your orgasm builds quickly. Tom wants this to last. He never wants to have to leave you ever again.

“I know. Taking me so well, pretty girl,” Raspy and gravelly, his voice sends you over the edge. You silently scream, your stomach arching to his chest as you soar up high, just to crash hard. His lips trail along your neck as you wind down, body trembling in unbelievable pleasure.

Tom hasn’t come yet and you secretly love riding him, and you know that’s one of his favorites. You bite your lip at the thought.

“Can I ride you?” You whisper, fingers dancing in his curly locks. He groans at your sweet, dirty words before flipping you over again with ease. His body lays flat on the bed while you rock slowly on his cock. Tom’s abs visibly contract from the intensity and satisfaction of this position. You feel slick around his cock at his chiseled figure, so you run a curious hand over his torso. “Your muscles are so… I love them.”

“I love that you love them, baby,” A strained whine releases from his throat as the tip of his cock twitches inside of you. “What else do you love?” His fingers fondle with the supple skin on your hips.

Tom joked a lot about his body, but in reality, he loved it when you’d praised his muscles, hands, legs, face— it made him feral to see you fawn over him.

“I-I love your arms. So strong, always protecting me,” You pant heavily, thighs burning deliciously at the tedious action of swaying back and forth. You roll your hips, eliciting a sharp noise from Tom as his grip on you tightens. “Love your hands. So big and rough.”

You continue a list of your favorite physical parts about him as he groans and moans from your compliments. His grasp on you is dangerous, his length ticking as he tries to hold off.

“D’want me to come in you? So you can be full of me?”

“Yes, yes. Want to be full of you forever,” You mewl, clenching around him as another mind-blowing orgasm hits you. At your request, Tom chokes a moan before his cum spurts into you furiously, muscles spasming and aching. Euphoric stars haze over your visions, blissed-out for your minds.

You collapse gently onto his body as you rest your head in the cradle of his neck. Unsteady breaths and racing hearts echo throughout the morning aroma of sex. The explosive beats of his heart fill your ears as your fingers trace feather-like on his pale skin. His hand smooths fondly over your frizzy hair and along your back over and over until you feel sleepy again.

“I missed you, Tom,” You whisper in the delicate, comfortable silence.

“I missed you, angel,” Tom hums as your body moves to the rise and fall of his breathing. Your eyes flutter majestically closed, sleepy like the beauty you are. “I couldn’t sleep without you.”

Reopening your eyes, you plant an arm on his chest and lay your chin on your hand. Pity floats in your eyes, remembering how tired he was on each phone call. He stares down at you through your lashes as the back of his head rests on his own hand.

“I couldn’t sleep either. It was torture,” You half joke, but were also serious because it definitely felt like some type of torture. “I know you just got back, but I’m kind of sleepy now.”

“Then let’s sleep. For the first real time in a month,” Tom brushes some stray hairs away from your eyes, so he could see the remarkable canvas of your orbs. You smile softly in affirmation, lifting yourself up to kiss his lips. It’s not long, but it’s tender and says I love you in a million different ways.

You slide off of his body and bask in his warmth as his arms wrap snugly around you. Back to his chest, you feel protected, safe, and comfortable for the first time in a month. Your hearts find the perfect beat for you both until they’re in beautiful sync.

As the sun rises higher into the late morning, Tom and you fall deeply asleep within the comfort of each other. He was finally home again, which means so were you.

—

i feel like i’m actually not bad at writing angst? the key is to make it very dramatic… i think.

#shawnxstyles #tom holland #tom holland smut #tom holland fluff #tom holland angst #tom holland fan fiction #tom holland one-shot #tom holland imagine #tom holland fan fics #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you

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tender-rosiey · 1 year

Note

I've been thinking about actor/actress s/o and gojo reading the most cringy the most vile s/o x reader fanfic idk 🤭

fame with a price — gojo satoru x f!reader

a/n: so while i try to finish to the gojo angst, have this <3 being sick in exams weeks is the literal worst but oh well

“hello, I am y/n gojo!”

your husband smirks, “‘y/n gojo’ always sounds like music to my ears.”

you elbow him and he winces in pain, but quickly recovers to introduce himself, “I am satoru gojo, the amazing and handsome husband of this gorgeous woman beside me.”

he wraps an arm around your shoulder and pulls you close, “we are the hot couple who acted the normal couple: Elien and Arthur from Lover’s Potent!”

the interviewer smiles, “you guys know why you are here, right?”

the both of you nod, and the interviewer chuckles at you pulling gojo’s arm away from you and instead holding his hand and stroking it which makes him smile rather goofily.

“so, gojo,” she starts, “would you mind telling our viewers what we are doing today?”

“which gojo?” your husband smirks, earning a kick to the shin, “I mean! today, we are going to read a ‘x reader’ fanfic about my wife!”

“you are awfully enthusiastic, ‘toru, even more than usual,” you hum.

he stretches and places his hands behind his head, “I am just enthusiastic to rub it in people’s face that I can have you and they can’t.”

you take the phone handed to you by the staff, and clear your throat, “I am going to start; so the first one sound rather promising.”

gojo hums and you elaborate, showing him, “look? even the title is adorable.”

“‘the stars were made for you’, well I can certainly take the stars for you if you want,” gojo boasts but you ignore him.

you, then, read it out loud, “‘as I gazed into her eyes, that sparkled under the moonlight, my heart almost beat out of my chest at the sight of her smile that dazzled me’,” you giggle, “that was actually pretty cute.”

you hear gojo groan and snatch the phone away from you, “I can say things better than that!” he scrolls through the number of options displayed before him, “aha!”

“y/n x alpha!reader, smut, +18 minors don’t interact,” he finishes with a smirk.

you sweat-drop, “honey, how about you skip that one? we’re on TV.”

“absolutely not, do you know how many views will this get us?”

the staff, on the other hand, are tip toeing between whether to keep the following scene or not.

gojo clears his throat and gets ready with his most elegant voice, “she was in front of me bare, looking oh so delectable and ready for me to devour and indulge in her— this is in first person by the way— I sunk my **** into her ***** as my teeth ***** **** **** and my growling only grew stronger when she ***** *** **** ***.”

“satoru, please how are you not ashamed to read this or even bothered?!” you exclaim smacking his shoulder repeatedly.

he tsks, “wife, I am absolutely livid, but! they can dream all they want because I don’t plan on giving up on you.”

“toxic much?”

“giving up on you as in trying my best to make you stay in love with me,” he huffs.

“that will prove to be very useless, I am afraid,” you smile smugly.

gojo panics and sits up, looking at you, “wait why?!”

your smile only turns to a grin as you shrug, “the next fanfic is called ‘lover’s paradise’!”

the man beside you, who was presumed defeated and deflated, takes the phone from your hand and silences your protest with a quick kiss.

“the next fanfic is actually ‘the ****** for y/n’,” he says.

“aren’t we off to a great start, even part of the title is considered not suitable to be shown to the public,” you muse sarcastically and can only watch as the staff laugh their hearts out.

“I am going to start reading! ‘***** *** ***** *** ** *** *** y/n and me *** ***** **** *** **! then when I heard her **** *** ****** ***, my **** th****** so hard that it blew up.’”

you started cackling and soon you fall to the ground, wheezing and tears start to form in the corner of your eyes, “they wrote that?!”

“y/n! that’s not nice! they put all their sussiness in it!” your husband argues, but his words reach no one, even the staff.

the camera man is visibly shaking while the director is rightfully disgusted.

“that’s enough I think,” one of the staff squeaks out and the rest nod in approval while you’re trying to compose yourself with your husband helping you sit on your chair once again.

the interviewer speaks up after a, very, long time, “so that it wraps it up, I believe!”

“aw man, we won’t be reading anything else?” gojo pouts, “I wanted to see the fanfics about me too!”

he, unsurprisingly, is smacked on the shoulder even if it’s weak as you’re still taking breaths in to calm down.

the director gives his own opinion, “yeah no, that’s enough; thank you for your time!”

“rude,” gojo mumbles and intertwines your fingers, “like the director said, that’s enough for today, my loyal followers and fans!”

“see you guys in another episode where we hopefully don’t do this again!”

“this was more boring than I thought,” your husband whines after the the director announces the end of the episode.

you sigh, “it was certainly an experience for me.”

he pokes your shoulder lightly and leans in slightly towards your ear, “how about we try doing some of what we read?”

gojo pauses the episode and looks back at you from the couch, “we were amazing, weren’t we!”

“I can’t believe they left in the last part without telling us,” you grumble while taking out your anger on the dishes you’re washing.

your husband, on the other hand, is more than pleased, “I think we made the best episode ever for them.”

“satoru, half of the episode is censored.”

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orchidniins · 19 days

Note

hi! would you please be able to write a fic of george picking us up from a drunken night out and looking after us? i think he’d be so lovely 🥰🥰

Drunken Adventures | George Clarke

Summary: Just boyfriend George taking care of his drunk girlfriend Pairing: George Clarke x F!Reader Warnings: Fluff Word count: 2.8k+ A/N: George is such boyfriend material and would just be such a caring boyfriend. The biggest simp in the world. tbh not my best work, but this request has been in my inbox for like a month now. Hope you enjoy!

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

George lounged in the familiar living room of the Arthurs’ and Chris's apartment, unwinding after a long day of filming. It had been quite some time since he moved out to live with you, and with you out all night for your best friend Jenna’s hen do, he was not looking forward to the prospect of returning to an empty apartment. So, when the opportunity arose to spend some time and catch up with the boys, he was more than glad to seize it.

Midway through their conversation, George's phone begins buzzing on its spot on the coffee table. Glancing at the phone, he expects to see your name on the screen, assuming you would be calling to let him know you were on your way home. However, concern washes over him when he’s instead met with the caller ID of your friend Lily. Instantly springing up from the couch, he excuses himself to take the call.

George's fingers hurriedly tapped the screen as he accepted the call. "Hey, Lily. Is everything okay? What's the matter?" His tone carried a hint of urgency.

"George, it's me, Lily," came the slurred voice on the other end. George let out a soft huff, realizing just how intoxicated your friend was. Patiently, he asked again, "Yeah, hi Lily. Is Y/N with you? Is she alright?"

Amidst the muffled voices and the noise of people talking over each other, he patiently waits for Lily's response. Finally, her voice broke through the chaos. "Yeah, she's fine... mostly. But she's like absolutely shit-faced right now. She's insisting that she'll get back on her own, but none of us trust her to do that, so you better come and pick her up. I'll send you our location."

"Tell her to stay put, I'm on my way," George says as he walks toward the door. With his phone pressed between his shoulder and ear, he begins putting on his coat. Lily responded with a quick, "Okay, thanks," before abruptly ending the call.

With a brief goodbye to the boys and a quick explanation of where he was headed, George was out the door in a hurry, calling a cab on his way down to your location.

A quick cab ride later, he reaches the club where you were at. He steps out into the cold night air and almost instantly spots your small group gathered outside. You were seated on the pavement, legs criss crossed, your head leaning against a lamppost while you scrolled through your phone, laughing at whatever was playing on your screen. The faint glow illuminated your features in the dim light of the street.

George couldn't help but shake his head and laugh at the spectacle before him.

The bride-to-be was video calling someone, oblivious to the chaos around. Meanwhile, one of your friends was bent over a nearby bush, puking her guts out, while Lily stood holding her hair back. The rest of the girls, keeled over in drunken laughter.

George made his way over to where you were sitting, a smile playing on his lips as he crouched down next to you. "Hey there, troublemaker," he greeted softly, his voice carrying a hint of amusement.

You look up from your phone at the sound of his voice and your face lights up with a goofy grin. "Georgey!" you exclaimed, without a moment's hesitation, you threw your arms around him in a tight hug, causing him to stumble back slightly. His hand lands on the pavement, steadying him, while the other instantly wraps around your back.

"Hey there, love. You feeling okay?” he says, his voice filled with laughter. You returned his gaze, a grin spreading across your lips. "Yeah, I'm great," you replied, your words slightly slurred. You reached out and gently grabbed his face with both hands, planting a kiss on his lips, catching him off guard.

"I missed you, you beautiful man." you continued, George chuckled softly, thoroughly amused by your actions. "How much have you had to drink?" he asked, his tone gentle and caring.

"Not that much, I feel fine," you insisted, trying to sound serious but failing as a smile inevitably crept back onto your face, causing you both to laugh.

"Alright then, let's get you up first," George says, gently brushing away a strand of hair that had fallen out of place before tucking it behind your ear. He then slowly gets you up to your feet, fixing your dress after it had ridden up while you were sitting down.

"Now, let's get you home," he says while you eye him with a small pout. Once you're up on your feet, you lean into his side, wrapping your arms around his waist and tucking yourself under his arm. His arm naturally settles on your shoulder, providing support to keep you steady.

As George reached for his phone and opened up the Uber app, you swiftly snatched it away, declaring, "But I'm having fun! I don’t want to go home yet!" In your haste, however, you accidentally dropped his phone, which landed squarely on his right foot.

"Ouch. Careful there, love, you nearly decapitated me," George joked, his laughter ringing out in the night air. You rolled your eyes at his dramatics, unable to suppress your own laugh. As he bent down to pick up his phone, you playfully attempted to hold him back by his waist. However, your drunken attempt at holding him back proved worthless, causing you to stumble back as your arms detached from his waist. But, before your bum could hit the pavement, George was quick to grab onto your waist and keep you from landing on the ground.

"Okay, that's a sign, you're done for the night, Y/N," he says, gently getting you back on your feet. Once you're standing, you turn around to face him, his arms still securely wrapped around your waist to prevent another potential stumble.

You shake your head stubbornly, determination shining in your eyes. "No, I don’t wanna go back home just yet," you insist firmly, your conviction clear. "The entire city is ours, George. We can't miss out on this adventure," you explain, pointing towards the street. "Each street, each building, they all have stories to tell. And tonight, we get to be a part of those stories."

George smiles at your intoxicated ramblings, gently teasing, "What are you going on about?" His laughter follows. that contagious sound that you love so much, accompanied by the crinkle in his eyes.

As you continue trying to convince him, George can't help but think how absolutely adorable you are, even in your drunken state. And despite his initial resistance, he finds himself giving in to your whims.

"Fine," he finally gives in with a sigh, a soft smile playing on his lips. "I can never say no to you, can I?” he admits.

You smile at him as you raise up on your tiptoes and give him a peck on the cheek "Exactly, now off we go Georgey!" With that, you grab his hand and pull him away from the club.

Turning back to your friends, you shout a goodbye, waving enthusiastically. George shoots them a quick farewell before turning his attention back to you. "You sure it’s a good idea to leave them to fend for themselves?" he quips, laughing as he gestures towards your just as wasted friends.

You laugh and shrug, "Eh, they'll be fine,” you reassure him, "Jenna’s brother is coming to pick them up, they're crashing at her place," you explain as you start walking down the street together.

George raises an eyebrow as he asks, "Do you know where you’re going?"

"We’ll figure it out, the night is still young," you reply, sounding carefree.

He chuckles softly, shaking his head. "You're so full of shit," he remarks, and you roll your eyes, playfully swatting at his chest while he continues to laugh at you.

As you continue walking, you stagger a bit despite his support, catching George's attention. "Let's get you some water first," he suggests, concern coloring his voice. You pout in protest, but he remains adamant, guiding you to the nearest corner shop. He has you sit down, and makes you chug some water to help sober you up a little.

You two navigate the city streets just past midnight, the Friday night nightlife around you is full of energy. The neon glow of club signs casts shadows on the streets as the late-night crowds stumble out onto the streets. "Hey! Oh my god I love your dress! You have to tell me where you got it," you exclaim as you strike up conversations with random people on the streets as if you've known them for years, becoming extra extroverted when you are even slightly drunk.

George stays glued to your side the whole time, equally as amused and anxious, just wanting to make sure you’re safe and don’t hurt yourself, his protective side kicking in.

"Woah there, do you wanna sit down for a bit?" he interjects as you stumble slightly, tripping over your own two feet. His hand reaches out to steady you, but you brush it off with a dismissive wave. "No, I’m fine," you insist. Throughout the night, you two continue to dance under the glow of street lamps, sharing laughter over each other's absolutely terrible jokes, almost falling from laughter multiple times.

As you’re practically rolling on the sidewalk laughing, you hear the click of his camera, and you immediately sit up, "Hey! What are you doing?" you protest, but your laughter betrays the mock seriousness in your voice. George just grins mischievously, snapping a few more photos, definitely exploiting your drunken state for blackmail material later.

He takes a moment to look at the photo he had just taken of you, a grin spreading across his face as he laughs. "You're laughing way more than you should at that. Show me!" you demand reaching out to grab his phone, but he pulls it away, hiding the screen against his chest.

"Come on, baby!" you plead, giving him your best puppy dog eyes, and he can’t help but melt, quickly flashing his phone at you, revealing the photo. Your mouth falls open in disbelief, but you burst into laughter at the sight of yourself. Still giggling, you make another attempt to snatch his phone from him, playfully demanding, "Give me that! Get those photos off your phone, George!" But his height advantage keeps the phone just out of your reach, and you make a feeble attempt at jumping to get it back.

Your attention however suddenly shifts from your antics when you spot a lime bike stand out of the corner of your eye. You instantly forget about what you were just doing and run up closer to it, leaving George momentarily confused before he follows your lead. “George,” you exclaim eagerly, turning back to face him with excitement. “Lime bikes! We should totally ride bikes!”

“Great idea when drunk, huh?” You continue, trying to take the piss out of him. You shoot him a mischievous grin. “Bet I can actually manage to stay on one though,” you tease, throwing him a wink.

George rubs his face with his hands as he laughs, “Haha, very funny… absolutely not,” he replies with a playful shake of his head. “I think you’d actually kill me if something were to happen and you end up in the A&E. Not how I wanna spend my Friday night, love,” he quips, sharing a knowing smile with you. He then joins you and gently turns you around, pushing you in the opposite direction, away from the bike stand.

"Boo, party pooper, you're no fun," you jokingly accuse him, a slight pout on your face as you tease him for being a buzzkill.

"Who else is gonna keep you from making horrible decisions?" George quips, nudging you slightly as he can’t help but laugh as he says it. You roll your eyes at his playful jab, but a smile tugs at the corners of your lips. He brushes it off, intertwining your fingers with his, enjoying the warmth of his hand as you both start walking hand in hand.

As you walk, George notices you getting tired, your steps becoming a little slower and your conversation gradually quieting down. He looks down at you with a caring expression as he notices a small yawn escape your lips. "How about we get you home soon?" he suggests softly, his voice filled with concern.

But you shake your head, looking up at him with a soft smile on your lips. "Not yet," you insist, tugging him along until you arrive at a nearby park.

As you stroll through the park, the stillness of the night surrounds you, broken only by the occasional rustle of leaves and distant noises of the city. You two find a nearby bench and take a seat, kicking off your heels and swinging your legs over his lap. The cool night air kisses your cheeks, and you shiver, prompting George to take off his jacket and drape it over your exposed legs. You glance at him and mumble a small "Thank you, baby" before continuing to rub your hands together to warm them up. George instinctively wraps his arms around you, pulling you close and rubbing his arms against your shoulders in an attempt to warm you up. You lean into his warmth as you snuggle up close to him, gazing out at the twinkling skyline.

You sit in silence for a moment, feeling the weight of the night settling over you. You start to feel drowsy, comfortable and warm in George’s arms, and you let out a soft yawn, catching his attention. He watches you with affection in his eyes, taking in the sight of you under the moonlight. Your hair glows softly in the gentle moonlight, framing your face and he thinks it makes you look absolutely angelic.

As you snuggle in closer to him, you feel your eyelids growing heavier. George softly brushes the hair out of your face with a gentle touch. He whispers softly to you, his voice barely above a murmur, softly nudging you awake. "Can I take you home now?" he asks. You nod in response, finally agreeing to call it a night.

Once you're back at your shared apartment, you stumble in, shedding your heels and tossing your jacket haphazardly in the living room before making a beeline for the bedroom. George follows closely behind, gently nudging you in the direction of the bathroom. "Hold on there, love," he says with a chuckle. "You very well know you'll be absolutely pissed at me in the morning for letting you go to bed with makeup on."

You nod as you enter the ensuite, hopping up onto the counter and facing George as he comes to stand between your legs, his palm resting on your thigh. You point to the drawer, and he retrieves the packet of makeup wipes, pulling one out to gently start wiping your face.

The whole time, your eyes remain fixed on him, a loving and dreamy look in them. Once he's finished removing your makeup, he tosses the used wipe into the bin and chuckles, eyeing you with a curious look, “What?”

"Nothing," you begin softly, your hands reaching up to rest on his shoulders. "I just... I feel so lucky." Your voice is quiet but earnest as you gaze into his deep blue eyes, a soft smile gracing your lips. "Thank you for taking care of me tonight. You didn’t have to, you know. I know how much you were looking forward to hanging out with the boys."

George’s hands begin to softly rub the exposed flesh on the side of your thighs as he looks at you with just as much affection, placing a featherlight kiss on your forehead. “It’s fine…I was with them all morning," he begins, “But for you, I’ll always be there, whether you like it or not."

You smile up at him, your laughter bubbling over. "You're such a sap," you tease, but there's genuine affection in your tone.

He smiles down at you, his eyes warm. "I mean it, though," he insists. "There's never a dull moment with you, drunk or sober."

Then, he leans in, closing the distance between you, and places a tender kiss on your lips. As you pull away, you look into his eyes and whisper, "I love you."

"I love you too, you drunken mess," he replies, his voice filled with adoration.

With a gentle smile, he wraps his arm around your waist and effortlessly lifts you up, setting you down on the ground before placing a kiss on your temple. You quickly change into more comfortable clothes, and together you head to bed, snuggling into each other's warmth as he wraps his arms around you, finally putting an end to your late-night adventures.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Requests are open...or just drop in for a chat! 😊

#george clarke #george clarke imagines #george clarke fluff #george clarke fic #george clarke x reader #george clarkey #george clarkey fluff #george clarkey x reader #youtube #chaos crew #fluff #george clarkey imagines #chrismd #arthurtv #arthur hill

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justtwotired · 5 months

Text

Whispers of the night - Lloyd Garmadon x F!reader

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Your POV

“Y/n L/n!” I looked back when I heard a familiar voice yell out my name. I stood at my locker, leaving my books behind at school.

Luna was leaning against the locker next to mine and Flora and Amelia where a few lockers down, noses in their own.

Well not anymore, since James yelled my name rather loudly. He was followed by the twins and Charlie who all looked stern.

“What’s with you four?” I asked and James sighed. “You challenged Brown for a fight? Are you insane?” He asked and I rolled my eyes.

“Please, Jamie, I can easily win this!” I reassured him and he sighed. “I know you can, that’s not the point. The point is that you are going to get yourself expelled and if you fail the year, we can’t got to college together!” He complained and I sighed.

“It’s going to be fine, I promise, I’ll make the year, I mean, I’m doing pretty well, I’ll promise I’ll make it trough the year so the two of us can get into college together.” I said and he narrowed his eyes at me.

“You better, because I ain’t going alone!” I laughed and shut my locker. “Let’s go, I’ve got a guy to beat up.” I grinned and they followed me outside.

“If he hurts her I’m killing him,” I heard Arthur whisper to Anthony who gave a nod in agreement. “I heard that!” I said and they looked at me, scarily in sink.

“N/n, I mean it, if he actually hurts you I will snap his neck.” Arthur said and I smiled a bit at him. I looked over at Charlie and Flora, she was revising the story to him about how I had stood up against Brown.

He gave me a thankful look and I gave him a warm smile back. These people are my family, I’ll protect them at all cost.

We walked out of the building and I was surprised to see he actually showed up. A crowd had already formed, as the news spread really fast, I just hoped a teacher wouldn’t show up.

“Millie, hold my earrings,” I said as I took them out and laid them in her hands before quickly putting my hair into a bun.

“Awe, she showed up,” he gave me a fake pouty face and I narrowed my eyes. “I will give you one last chance to fuck off and leave my friends alone, otherwise I will make you regret it,” I said and he chuckled.

“And what are you going to do? Make me-” I didn’t let him finish his sentence and punched him in the nose.

The fight had begun and he swung at me, I easily dodged him and let him trip over air as he was cluelessly attacking me.

After ten minutes, he laid panting on the ground, he’d gotten my nose aswel, though not that hard so it was only slightly bleeding.

He on the other hand had a blue eye slowly forming, blood was gushing from his nose and he had a busted lip.

I raised my foot to see if he was ready to continue but he just raised his hands to cover his face, making me out the foot down and take a step forward.

“If I ever see you bothering my friends again, you won’t get away with it as easy as this,” I threatened before walking towards my cheering friends and we left the school grounds.

Lloyd POV:

“Lloyd!” I turned to Nya who entered the training room and I stopped attacking the dummy in front of me.

“What’s up?” I walked over me and she pushed her phone in my hands. “Watch!” She said and I looked at the screen.

I was surprised to see that the argument I had broken up earlier weren’t just empty threats and they actually fought.

Y/n was winning form the beginning and I was surprised to see she didn’t even seem to break a sweat.

“If I ever see you bothering my friends again, you won’t get away with it as easy as this,” my eyes winded slightly at her words as she turned around and walked towards her friends who where cheering her on.

The crowd had also quickly picked her side and clapped as she left campus, the video stopped when a voice of a teacher was heard.

“Holy shit,” I said and looked at Nya who had stars in her eyes. “Please let me meet her!” She said and I chuckled.

“We’ll see, I think she’ll like you, though,” I guaranteed and Nya squealed, “I’m going to show the others!” She then ran off and I shook my head in disbelief.

Your POV:

Alright, I was grounded for two weeks, but it was definitely worth it. I was sat in my room, reading a book when my phone buzzed.

Blondie

Just saw the video, you actually fought him? It thought you where bluffing

I chuckled and started to answer.

You

What can I say, I am one badass😎.

No, kidding, he was just an asshole that needed a lesson which I thought him.

Blondie

You where pretty good, I think my basic self defence lesson was useless for you.

You

Pretty much, but good lesson though, can’t you just teach all the time?

Blondie

Afraid Kai will be taking over again ):

But I understand you’d want me to teach, I am pretty attractive while teaching

You

Keep telling yourself that, lmao

Blondie

I didn’t have too

Your eyes did it for me during the lesson (;

You

That’s my que to go offline

Blondie

Noooo :(

You

Night blondie

My two weeks of being grounded consisted out of not allowed to see my friends, only going out when going to school and lots of training with my father.

Oh, and work, but that was only Tuesday and Thursday.

I blocked my fathers punch and was about to punch back when he kicked out my feet from under me.

I reacted by doing the same from of the ground and quickly got up, pointing my sword at his throat.

“Be nice to your old man,” he said and I pulled the tip of my sword away from his neck and helped him up.

Without a warning he stole the sword, floored me and threw the sword away. I quickly wanted to get up but he stopped me by putting his foot against my throat and I scrunched my nose.

“Dad! Gross!” I said and he laughed before sitting down next to me.

“You’re off today, normally you’d see that one coming from a mile away.” He looked at me and I sighed.

“I miss my friends, I only see them at school and they are having fun at the skatepark right now while I’m here.” I said and he let out a deep chuckle.

“Should’ve thought about that before beating up that kid,” he said and I grinned. “He deserved it though,” I said and he pushed my shoulder slightly.

“You have five days to go, it’ll be fine, kid, we’ll make training fun, and you have work tomorrow, you like work right?” He said and I shrugged.

“I guess you’re right,” I smiled and he put an arm around me. “How about some illusions?” He asked and I smirked up at him.

The next day, I hummed along to the radio while making cookies at work, as we where almost out of the cookies we sold.

Someone entered the shop and I turned around and a genuine smile came onto my face when I saw Lloyd.

“Blondie, such a pleasant surprise,” I said and he chuckled.

“Still grounded?” He asked and I sighed and nodded. “Yup, and I am afraid my mom is contemplating to take my phone away for the weekend just to ‘teach me a lesson’ or something,” I complained and he chuckled.

“Shouldn’t have beaten up that kid,” he said and I rolled my eyes while grabbing the flower. “You sound like my dad,” I said and he let out a breathy laugh.

“You’re not busy, are you?” He asked and I gave him a look. “Lloyd, look around, does it look busy to you?” I asked and he looked at the empty tables, only one containing some empty mugs I hadn’t grabbed yet.

“Seems rather lonely,” he said, “I shall be nice and stay here for company,” he winked and I rolled my eyes and shook my head with a smile.

“Yeah, I work alone Thursdays, so some company would be nice,” I said as I mixed my patch of dough.

“Do you want a coffee?” I asked and he contemplated it for a moment. “Uh, yeah sure, why not.” He smiled and I abandoned my patch of dough.

“What do you like, then?” I asked. “A cappuccino would do,” he said and I gave him a look. “Basic,” I said jokingly and he let out an offended noice. “Mean,” he said and I stuck my tongue out.

I made the cappuccino and asked if he wanted anything with that. “Uh yeah, three sugars,” he said and my eyebrows raised. “Three?” I asked, grabbing them anyway.

“What can I say, I have one heck of a sweet tooth,” he said and I chuckled lightly. “Well here you go, sir,” I said and he took the coffee and looked at me with a smile.

“Thanks, miss,” he said and I chuckled softly before continuing to make my batch of cookies. “I suppose Kai will be teaching my self defence class again tomorrow?” I asked and he nodded.

“Correct, but I thought you weren’t allowed in self defence class anymore?” He asked confused.

He was right, after the fight I had gotten two days suspension and they said I couldn’t attend self defence class anymore because of my ‘aggressive behaviour’.

“Yes, but they thought about it and decided that they’d rather have me in class then roaming around the school,” I shrugged as I added the chocolate chips.

“How fun, now you may deal with Kai every week,” Lloyd sarcastically and I sent him a small smile as I started to roll the dough to small balls.

“You make it sound like it’s a horrible thing,” I said grinning and he just chuckled, taking a sip of his coffee. “That’s because it is.” He told me.

“I’ll remember to tell him tomorrow,” I said and Lloyds eyebrows rose. “You’d betray me like that?” He acted fake hurt and I playfully rolled my eyes.

He stayed around for quite a while before he got a call and had to leave in a hurry, which I found rather strange, but I didn’t question it further.

When the cookies where done, I put most of display and held a few back, Ace loves these cookies and he let slip to me that his nanny loves them too, even though he had promised not to tell anyone.

His nanny was about my age, she was a nice girl and we got along great, though I didn’t see her that much.

Trough the day I got some customers, one of my favourite, Mr. Walters, who always stopped by for a caramel latte for his elderly wife who was battling cancer in the hospital. We always added a red velvet cupcake because it was her favourite, it was basically company policy.

“How has Lorrain been doing?” I asked as I poured the steamed milk in the large paper take away cup.

“Better actually, the dokters say there is a big chance she will manage to beat it this year,” he said and I could see tears of happiness in his eyes.

“That’s amazing! I really hope that will come true!” I said as I put the lid on the cup and handed that, plus a small paper bag containing the cupcake to the man, having paid before hand.

“Thank you, dear, I will see you next week,” he said taking the goods and walking out of the shop.

At the end of the day, I closed down, sweeping the floor and the tables, doing some last dishes and putting the remaining goods swatch putting some in a bag to take home.

I left a small not down good luck to my coworkers who started early the next day and then locked the door, to get home.

Kai POV:

I walked into the gym to teach my class when I noticed that Y/n was in my class. I huffed slightly, there was not much wrong about her, I just felt something off about her because of her stealing and getting herself into trouble.

I couldn’t help but listen in on her conversation she was having with her friend, who I know was named Luna as I had her last week aswel.

“Lu, you won’t believe this!” She said excitedly and I couldn’t help but break a small smile at her cheery behaviour. “What? What is it?” Luna asked her.

“So, Mr. Walters came into work yesterday, as always, you know what he told me?” She continued and Luna gave her an exasperated look. “Come onnn! Tell me!” She pushed.

“There is a big chance Lorrain will beat cancer before end of the year!” She jumped up and down and both girls cheered.

It kind of broke the ice to see her like that. Lloyd had told me about her work, and I thought it was nice she was so excited about what seemed to be a customer.

I shook my head slightly and started the class, deciding that maybe Y/n wasn’t so bad after all.

Yeah, she and her friends beat me in a chase after stealing from a store, but she was still nice- of course the reason I was wary of her wasn’t because she beat me in a chase…

Alright, it kind of was, but come on! I have years of training, and they have what? Skateboard stamina? If that’s even a thing.

Your POV:

I had been right, my mom did take away my phone for the weekend, which left me to sit in my room and mope all day.

I couldn’t talk to my friends, I wasn’t allowed to go out, I couldn’t text Lloyd, I wasn’t allowed to watch tv, dad was gone and forgot to leave me the key to the training room, so my day basically sucked.

At the moment, I was trying to create a partronus, like you see in Harry Potter, but then it was an illusion.

I could see my own illusions if I wanted to, thank the first spinjitzu master, but sometimes they where actually quite hard for me to do.

I had already managed to make a fox and was now trying a snake, when there was a knock on my door.

“Come in!” I called and the door opened, I was met with one of our staff members.

“Miss Y/n, dinners ready, your mother waits for you in the dining hall.” She said and I got of the bed. “Thank you, Nora.” I smiled and she gave me a kind smile back before leaving to get my brother while I went downstairs.

There, in the dining room, my mother sat, aswel as my younger sister.

I guess my mother read my facial features and sighed. “Don’t mope, Y/n, you know I had a good reason to ground you,” she said and I nodded.

“Yeah, I know,” this was gonna be a fun dinner… not.

It was spent with my mother slightly lecturing me about not causing trouble in school (again) and Ace was snickering the whole time, making her round on him.

Sure, my mother was strict, but she could be really sweet and caring when she wasn’t mad at anyone.

After dinner I excused myself and sat in my room, deciding to read a book instead of moping around.

Suddenly, while reading, there where taps on my window. I thought nothing of it and continued reading, but when it happened again I looked up.

I yelled when I saw someone sitting at the window and my hand quickly inched towards the knife laying on my bedside table, until I saw who it was.

I walked over and opened my window with an angry frown.

“What are you doing here?” I whisper shouted. The green ninja climbed trough my window and looked around.

“Your room is huge!” He said and I shushed him immediately. “It took a long while to find you, your house is way to big,” he said and I clenched my fists.

“What are you doing here?” I asked again and he looked at me for a moment. “Oh, yeah I didn’t see you in a while and started to worry, so I thought I’d visit you.” He shrugged and I smacked his shoulder.

“Are you mental?” I asked and he chuckled. “Only a bit,” he said and I groaned. “You can’t just show up at my house! What if my parents see you? What if one of the guards see you?” I hissed and he shrugged.

“I’m the green ninja, I’ll talk my way out,” he winked and I shook my head in disbelief. “You can’t just break into my house!” I said and he I could see by his eyes that he smirked.

“Technically,” he started, “I didn’t break in, you let me in,” he pointed out and I gave him an unamused look.

“Besides, don’t act like you aren’t happy to see me, sweetheart,” he said and I let out a small huff. “Who says I’m happy to see you?” I asked and he took a step closer.

“Your heartbeat does,” he said and I felt my face flush and my knees grew slightly weak. “There it goes again,” he teased and I pursed my lips.

“You can hear my heartbeat?” I asked and he nodded with a small smirk. “Yeah, super senses, it’s a family thing,” he shrugged.

“Yours is going rather fast,” he said tauntingly and I gulped slightly, trying my best to slow down my heartbeat.

“But enough about me, tell me about you,” he turned away from me and sat himself down in one of the chairs in my room. “Where have you been? Why haven’t I seen you around?” He asked me interested and I couldn’t help but grin.

“What? Have you missed me?” I asked and he let out a low chuckle. “Of course, why do you think I’m here?” He said, gesturing around the room.

I shook my head, slightly rolling my eyes and sat down in front of him on another chair.

“I’m grounded,” I revealed and I noticed by his eyes that his eyebrows rose. “Damn, Princess, what did you do? Got caught sneaking out?” He said and I shook my head no.

“I go into a fight at school,” I explained and he seemed a bit surprised, but something inside of me felt like his surprise was fake, as if he already knew.

“Tell me more,” he said, leaning forwards a bit and I narrowed my eyes a bit. “I don’t think I have to,” I said and he seemed actually surprised by that one. “I think you already know,” I said and he let out a deep chuckle.

“Aren’t you a sharp one?” He grinned. “Yeah, alright, you caught me. I already know, but I thought I’d hear from you what happened,” he said and I raised a brow.

“Why is that? Are you interrogating me and arresting me afterwards?” I asked, even though it was obviously a joke.

He just shook his head and kept eye contact with me, making me shift in my seat. “No, I just think you are really interesting, Y/n L/n,” he said making my heartbeat raise and he gave me a smug look as he knew, he heard.

“Why are you here? The actual reason this time,” I said narrowing my eyes at him and he shrugged. “Like I said, your interesting, there’s just something about you-” he got cut off as we both heard footsteps on the stairs

I held my breath, hoping they weren’t going for my room.

“Y/n, Honey!” Damn it!

I shot up and quickly dragged the green ninja by the arm, taking him to my walk in closet and pushing him inside.

“Stay here, don’t you make a peep,” I whispered and shut the door, just as my room door opened.

“Mum, hi!” I said with a bright smile and she narrowed her eyes slightly. “Hi,” she said and looked around the room as I walked over to my bed and sat down.

“What is it?” I asked and she looked at the window curiously. “Why is your window open?” She asked and I swallowed.

“I uh, I felt hot, I thought I’d open the window to let some cool air in,” I lied, why hadn’t I just shut the goddamn window?

“Are you sick?” My mum walked over already reaching out to put her hand on my forehead. “Mum- I’m fine, really,” I promised and she sighed as I dodged her hand.

“Alright, but if you get more symptoms I’m taking you to a doctor. I just sighed and nodded. Even with just the flue, mum just wanted me to a dokter, as always.

“Fine, why did you even come here?” I asked a bit annoyed and she crossed her arms. “Don’t get that tone with me, young lady,” she scolded. “I just came to tell you that we have a dinner party at the Chapman’s tomorrow.” She said and I couldn’t help but smirk.

That meant I got to see James! I hadn’t seen him since Thursday and it was killing me, as he is my best friend.

“Yeah, sounds good,” I said and crossed my legs on my bed. “Alright hunny, now get some sleep, you seem tired and I don’t want you to get sick.” She kissed the top of my head and left the room.

When I heard her footsteps reach the ground floor, I shot up and opened my closet door.

“Alright, you have to go,” I said and he gave me sad puppy dog eyes making me glare back. “Don’t you try that with me, I am still kicking you out,” I said and he just laughed and walked out of the closet and back towards the window while I followed him.

“Alright, but I’ll be seeing you again, Princess,” he said, before winking and jumping out of the window.

#ninjago lloyd x reader #lloyd garmadon x reader #ninjago lloyd #lloyd garmadon #ninjago x reader #ninjago city #kai smith x reader #kai smith #nya smith #ninjago zane #zane julien #cole brookstone x reader #cole x reader #cole brookstone #jay walker x reader #jay walker

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lizdonnelly · 4 months

Text

Appearances

Pairing: Elizabeth Donnelly x f!reader, suggestions of Alex Cabot x Olivia Benson Warnings: Smut, language Summary: "We do not see people as they are, but as they appear to us." Takes place after the events of 3x21 ‘Denial'

---

Alex Cabot would admit to being many things, but a pushover was not one of them. The ADA crossed her arms and adjusted herself on the bench within the cell, adamant that back talking to Lena Petrovsky would be worth the ass chewing that would surely ensue when the news reached the Bureau Chief that her subordinate was being held in contempt. Adjusting her watch, Alex realized it was already well past six. She bit the inside of her cheek at the thought of Liz receiving the phone call during dinner. While the woman was typically volatile enough as it was, any interruptions Alex had spurred on after hours lately had inspired an especially caustic response. A few rumors were circulating around the DA's office, and to their credit, they tracked with the reputation that preceded Liz.

"Elizabeth Donnelly? They're promoting that radical feminist?" Arthur Branch had scoffed over a glass of whiskey at the annual holiday benefit when he had asked Alex who had the honor of being her new boss. "She had everyone's balls in an iron vice back in the 70's until she let a perp escape out the bathroom window. Ruined her reputation, but didn't fix that attitude."

Alex feigned a smile in acknowledgement, tracing her thumb along the edge of her champagne flute. She couldn't lie, her family ties and pedigree had certainly helped carry her through the conservative boy's club that the DA's office had been, but she liked to believe she knew enough of the script to ease through on her own accord. If it worked at Harvard, how could it be any different at Manhattan SVU?

"You know, it's always been an open secret that she bats for the other team," Arthur derided. "Explains a lot, don't you think?" Alex's blood cooled.

"Here's what I don't understand..." Ripped back to reality at sound of the harsh, staccato voice that echoed down the hall, Alex braced herself. She straightened her back out and smoothed her brow. Time to test her resolve. "Yes, ma'am. That's correct, she's just down that way. Check the second cell on the right."

--- Liz turned to you before she headed down the hallway, voice softening. "Stay here while I go give her a reality check," she said. "It shouldn't take long." You nodded, leaning against the guard's desk. You adjusted your grip on the takeout bag that you had asked the restaurant for as soon as Liz received the call. Although your shift at Mercy General's ER had been fatiguing, the idea of a cozy dinner with your girlfriend had carried you through the workday. With drama stirring up again on Liz's end, it had been about a week since you'd last been able to have a proper night out with her. Despite your understanding of the responsibility that came with her career, an all too familiar feeling had begun clawing its way through you. "You cold over there all by your lonesome, miss?"

Startled, you turned around. Two guards stood behind the desk, and one winked.

"Sweetheart?" Liz stood in the doorway of her bedroom. You paused your motions, eyes widening as you looked up at her.

"You must be cold all alone like that," she said faintly, slowly walking closer. "Run out of patience waiting for me to get back?"

It was true. Although you had only started formally dating her for a few months at the time, you both fell quicker and harder than you thought you could. You felt a wave of shame at succumbing to the ache that had gnawed at you, broke you. She had been pulled into a particularly demanding case, and hadn't been able to follow through on a date night in over two weeks. Liz had suggested you spend the night, promising she'd be home before midnight to make reparations for lost time, but you had made the mistake of watching her get dressed for her court appearance earlier that day. It was stupid, really, to get caught up in the thought of it like some hormonal teenager. A woman as put together as she was surely wouldn't take well to finding out that you could cave so easily.

But her hands were smoothing up the bare skin along your back now, pulling you off your spot straddling the pillow and flush against her suit. She pressed a kiss to your temple.

"Here, darling," came her voice in your ear. She patted her thigh. Hesitantly, you shifted up into place and began to grind against it, burying your face into the crook of her neck. Your cheeks burned.

"Come on, it's alright. You can make a mess."

The guard pulled the zipper down on his jacket.

"I've dealt with worse," you managed, not sure whether the words were really meant for him or as a reminder to yourself. You tugged at the corner of your coat and looked over at the men. Something about the way they were eyeing you now began to unnerve you. Your heartbeat quickened. You tried your best to tuck your hospital ID badge into your pocket before they could get a good look at it. "Is that so? Snow's supposed to get real bad tonight," the guard continued, swapping glances with his coworker and grinning. He stepped forward towards you. "You know what they say's the best way to keep warm?" The man waggled his eyebrows, both of them now chuckling. "With my foot up your ass," came Liz's voice as she rounded the corner. She pulled you under her arm, leading you towards the exit. She cast a look over her shoulder that you weren't able to catch, but the sound of the guards' boots squeaking out of the room said it all. ---

Running a hand through her hair, Alex made her way through the station, thankful for the dim lighting now that her eyes burned with fatigue. Lewin had succeeded in making peace with Petrovsky, although it took hours for the news to reach the ADA. Fortunately, Olivia had the patience of a saint. The detective had been more than willing to meet up with her for a late night dinner once Alex was able to drop a few things off at her desk. The thought of nursing a warm bowl of soup almost made up for the fact that her shirt was beginning to stick to her skin. Her mind wandered to the idea of sitting across from those wide, chocolate puppy dog eyes that always held such an earnest fire in them. Something began to stir within Alex, but she shook it off, digging her nails into her arms. Olivia was a talented detective. Her empathy and ability to make people feel heard was what made victims able to open up to her. It was just a skill that also happened to benefit her coworkers, nothing more.

As the ADA turned the corner, she paused.

The door to Liz's office was open. One of the lamps had been turned on inside, and a hazy glow filtered out across the darkened hallway. The Bureau Chief was standing in the doorway, hands grasping at the hips of a woman in a pair of scrubs. Everything in Alex stilled as she saw the woman lean up and run a hand through Liz's short, swept back hair. There was a warmth that radiated in her boss' eyes that she had trouble believing could exist there. The woman whispered something to Liz, and whatever had been said caused Liz to pull her forward into a bruising kiss.

Alex hid back behind the corner, unsure of how to process catching Liz Donnelly slide her tongue down another woman's throat. Waiting for the sound of the door to close, Alex pushed herself flat against the wall. Much to her dread, footsteps began to head towards her. Her adrenaline spiked.

Knowing there was no way to call the elevator in time, the ADA dipped into an open conference room nearby, hoping the clicking of her heels wouldn't give her away. Not long after, Liz rounded the corner, briefcase in hand. She furrowed her brow and looked around. Alex held her breath, knowing that she'd burn the remainder of her nine lives at the DA's office if the woman found out what she'd seen.

Fortunately, Liz slipped into the women's restroom.

Alex's phone buzzed within her pocket. "Where are you? Donnelly still giving you trouble?"

Alex paused before typing her response. "Got sidetracked, sorry. Be there soon."

--- At Liz's insistence, you settled into one of the leather chairs in her office and left the takeout bag on the table for you both to dig into once she returned. Looking around, you took in the sight of all the awards and fancy, framed pieces of paper hanging along the walls with signatures of names that meant nothing to you but surely held some sort of high regard in the legal world.

Melinda had warned you that Liz didn't have the most gracious demeanor. She said the prosecutor was about as cold as they come, aside from those that ended up on her table. However, that didn't stop her from urging you to confront your feelings for the woman in the same breath. It had been over a year of tiptoeing around the subject before you both ended up confessing feelings over drinks. Somehow, it all felt much more real getting to finally see the office that soaked up so much of her time.

Sucking in your bottom lip, you tasted her on you again.

Your eyes landed on her desk. Heat began to pool in the bottom of your stomach at the thought of her gazing over at you from behind it. Cautiously, you got up and walked over. You ran your fingers along the edge of the wood, chuckling at both how much of a statement piece it was and how impersonal Liz kept it. Apart from the heavy, gold nameplate, there wasn't much across it that would make it clear who worked there. For all the years you devoted to medical school, you certainly didn't have anything with as much pomp and circumstance with your name on it. Accidentally pushing a drawer open in the process, you came face to face with something unexpected. Tucked halfway underneath a few blank memo pads in the drawer was a newspaper clipping. In it, you smiled widely at the camera, accepting an award on behalf of the trauma unit at Mercy General. The article had been published over two years ago. "Feeling nosy, eh?"

You jumped at the sound of Liz's voice from across the room. Strangely, she had changed into a pair of suit pants. She set her briefcase to the side, and you heard her lock the door. "Where'd you get this?" "Judging by the looks of it, the newspaper, sweetheart."

You rolled your eyes and giggled.

"They teach you those skills in law school?" It was her turn to laugh now.

She made her way across the dimly lit room to wrap herself around your back. You felt her press a kiss to the back of your neck. "I picked up the paper at the cafe by my home one morning, and wouldn't you know it, there was the name of the adorable woman in scrubs I kept seeing order her croissants there," she said, smiling into your skin. "It made up for all the shitty coffee I dealt with to get a chance to see her."

"That was a few months before Melinda introduced us at the gala," you said. "I don't remember ever seeing you there, and I could never forget the night we first met." She pressed up against your back. You felt the bulge in her pants and bit your lip. The impromptu outfit change suddenly made sense. "I like to keep some things to myself," she whispered. She shifted, positioning the outline of the strap to nudge the space between your legs. "Other things, not so much."

You gasped, eyes fluttering shut. "Here? Are you sure?" "Bend over, sweetheart." "What if someone-" Liz nipped at your earlobe, and the words died in your throat. "Hush," she whispered, patting her desk. Mind swimming and desire taking over, you leaned over the edge of her desk. You moaned at the feeling of her hands sliding up the back of your thighs. Suddenly, you felt her loop her fingers into your waistband, easing your pants and underwear off. You let your forehead hit the surface of the desk at the feeling of the cool air hitting your ass. "I've thought about this all too often," Liz whispered. She kept her voice low, but it only further added to your arousal. "You're even more gorgeous like this than I imagined." You gasped at the feeling of her swiping two fingers along your pussy, not sure of how long you'd be able to hold out like this. Liz chucked. "How long have you been wet like this for me?" "I told you earlier," you panted, thinking of the kiss you had shared in her doorway. "Y-you look so good tonight." Liz rewarded you by stroking her fingers around your entrance. You whined at her touch, hips bucking up towards her. She used her free hand to tug her pants open. "Oh god, Lizzie... please," you choked as she began running the toy through your folds.

At the sound of the nickname only you were allowed to call her, and only in the privacy of the heated moments you shared, she withdrew her fingers and eased the length of her strap inside you.

You gripped the edge of the desk as she began thrusting at a steady pace, her hands settling along your thighs to deepen her movements. The sound of your panting, the smacking of your ass against her, and the occasional restrained moans she fought back filled the air around you.

From along the bookshelf at the other side of the room, you caught a glimpse of yourself across the reflective surface of one of the awards she displayed, Liz mounted over you. Following your glance, the prosecutor snickered, leaning down to pull you into a kiss. "Do you like seeing me on top of you like this, darling?" she said, dragging her teeth across the soft spot exposed along your neck. You bit back a wail. "I can't...I'm going to..." you felt the waves of pleasure threatening to spread across your body. You fought to still them as much as you could, but the way she was pushing up against that spot deep inside you threatened to drive you mad. Your moans became less coherent, and you reached back to grab at her frantically. "Go ahead," she panted, her voice now strained. "Cum on my cock, sweetheart, you can do it." Your mind went fizzy, and the floodgates finally burst. Liz fucked you through your orgasm, hands soothing you up your shirt and all across your back. Not long after, you felt her grind up against you, finally collapsing. "Fuck!" she cried out, a little louder than she probably would have liked.

But what did it really matter? Who would be still around at this time of night?

--- "What did she hit you with this time?" Olivia asked, walking alongside the ADA as they both headed towards the elevators. Alex hit the button and shook her head. "That I need to stay in my own lane if I want to keep this job." Olivia rewarded her with a grin. Alex felt something in her stomach flip. "So not that bad this time. That's something," the detective said. The doors opened, and the pair walked in. Alex watched as Olivia thumbed the button for the ground floor. It was nearly two in the morning, yet the detective still had a lightness in her step. The prosecutor's eyes furtively scanned the woman as the elevator began its descent. She paused, noticing Olivia had a bit of a cowlick at the back of her pixie cut. Without thinking, Alex reached out and ran her fingers through the back of Olivia's hair, smoothing it out. Olivia hummed in response. The elevator halted. The doors opened, and Alex froze. She locked eyes with none other than Liz Donnelly, who stood behind the woman the ADA had seen her with earlier. Several strands of the short, blonde locks that Liz kept so neatly maintained were now plastered to her forehead with sweat. Her suit jacket hung around the arms of the woman she was with. Alex saw the Bureau Chief's eyes dart over to the hand the ADA still had threaded in Olivia's hair. The two lawyers met each other's gaze again. Unaware of the telepathic recognition of mutually assured destruction that was unfolding around her, the woman tugged Liz into the elevator with her. Alex removed her hand from Olivia's hair and found anything to look at but her boss. "Do you have any plans for the night?" the woman piped up, trying to make small talk with Alex and Olivia. "Staying in my lane," Alex said.

#elizabeth donnelly #elizabeth donnelly x reader #svu

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