#stop guessing the helmet catch

[sudden-stops-kill]

Caesars Sportsbook Charades

[pucksandpower]

What’s the Worst That Can Happen?

Charles Leclerc x Reader

Summary: Charles convinces his unathletic girlfriend to join him for his annual winter training ski trip … what’s the worst that can happen?

Warnings: description of ski injury and mentions of surgery

Based on this request

“Pretty please?” Charles begs, giving you his best puppy dog eyes.

You let out an exaggerated sigh. “Oh come on, you know I’m hopeless at anything athletic. I’ll just end up faceplanting in the snow the whole time.”

Charles grins, wrapping his arms around your waist. “That’s what I’m here for, to catch you when you fall.”

“Yeah until I drag us both down a mountain,” you retort.

He laughs. “I promise I won’t let that happen. We’ll start nice and easy on the bunny slopes.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Bunny slopes? Mr. Formula 1 driver wants to ski the bunny slopes with his clumsy girlfriend?”

“Hey, everyone has to start somewhere,” Charles protests. “Even the great Charles Leclerc was once a beginner. And the bunny slopes are the perfect place to learn together.”

You snuggle against his chest, still not convinced. “But it’s so cold there. You know I hate being cold.”

Charles kisses the top of your head. “The hotel has an amazing spa with hot tubs and a sauna. We can warm up in there after skiing. I’ll even give you a massage if you’re sore from falling down too much.”

“Gee thanks,” you laugh. “But what if I really am hopeless at it? I don’t want to ruin your trip.”

“Impossible,” Charles declares. “You could never ruin anything. This is about us having fun together, not about expert skiing. Though I have no doubt you’ll be shredding the black diamonds in no time.”

You smack his chest playfully. “Okay now you’re just lying to make me feel better.”

“Never,” Charles gasps in mock offense. “I have complete faith in your yet-to-be-discovered skiing abilities.”

You bite your lip, smiling shyly. His enthusiasm is adorable, even if misplaced. “Well, I guess it could be fun to try something new together ...”

Charles pumps his fist in excitement. “Yes! That’s my girl, up for an adventure!”

You hold up a finger in warning. “But I get to pick my own skis, and a helmet with a cute design on it. If I’m going to be falling a lot, I at least want to look stylish doing it.”

Charles grins. “Of course, whatever you need. I’ll take you to the best ski shops in town. You’ll be the most fashionable beginner skier on the mountain.”

You smile, shaking your head. “You’re crazy, you know that? Most guys wouldn’t want to deal with their girlfriends being accident-prone novices who will just slow them down.”

Charles takes your hands in his, gazing into your eyes earnestly. “Most guys are idiots then. I don’t care if you’re the clumsiest skier ever, I just want to experience new things with you. We’ll take everything slow, stop for plenty of hot chocolate breaks, and I’ll catch you every time you start to slip. The most important thing is being together.”

Your heart flutters at his words. You lean in for a tender kiss. “How did I get so lucky to find a man as sweet and patient as you?”

Charles smiles, pulling you close again. “I’m the lucky one. Now come on, we better start packing if we want to make our flight tomorrow morning!”

You wrinkle your nose. “Tomorrow? As in, the day after today? Don’t you think that’s rushing it a bit?”

“Why wait any longer to start having fun?” Charles counters enthusiastically. “Unless … you’re trying to back out already?” He pouts accusingly.

“No, no, I already agreed!” You insist. “It’s just, my suitcase is a mess and I’ll have to dig through my winter clothes and shop for ski gear and ...” Your protests trail off at the amused look on his face.

“Excuses, excuses,” Charles teases. “Admit it, you’re trying to stall so you can change your mind.”

You smack his shoulder again. “I am not! I promise I’m not backing out. I’m just … nervous. I’ve never skied before, what if I really am a disaster?” You bite your lip anxiously.

Charles tilts your chin up. “Hey, you’re going to do great. I’ll be with you every step of the way. But if you really aren’t comfortable, we can rethink this.” His eyes search yours with concern. “I don’t want you to feel pressured into anything, even from me. We can pick a different winter trip if you would rather do something else.”

You shake your head, smiling softly. “No, it’s okay. You’re right, it’ll be fun to try something new together. I’m just psyching myself out cause I’ve never been skiing before. But with you there supporting me … I can do it.”

Charles’s face lights up. “Yeah?”

You nod, leaning up on your toes for another lingering kiss. “Yeah. I trust you.”

“You’re the best!” Charles shouts gleefully, lifting you up and spinning you around. You cling to his shoulders, laughing.

“Whoa there, save some of that energy for the slopes,” you tease.

Charles sets you down gently, though his eyes still sparkle with exhilaration. “I’m just excited, that’s all. This is going to be such an amazing trip.” He kisses your forehead. “Thank you for agreeing to come. It means the world that you trust me enough to try this with me.”

You smile, running a hand through his hair. “Of course. Any chance to spend time with you is worth facing my fears and clumsiness.”

Charles grins. “Remember you said that when I have to stop every ten feet on the bunny slope to help you up.”

You smack his chest playfully. “Hey! I might not be totally hopeless.”

“You’re right, I’m sorry,” Charles says seriously. “For all I know, you could be a secret skiing prodigy.”

You snort. “Yeah right. But I promise I’ll try my best not to plow into too many innocent bystanders.”

“That’s the spirit!” Charles encourages. “We’re going to have the best time.”

You smile up at him softly. “I know. Anywhere with you feels like an adventure.”

Charles’s eyes shine with adoration. He leans down for one more lingering kiss. “I love you so much. Now come on, we’ve got packing to do!”

He grabs your hand and you let him lead you excitedly down the hall, butterflies swirling in your stomach. You still feel nervous attempting something so out of your comfort zone. But Charles’s childlike enthusiasm is contagious. And you know without a doubt that by his side, you’re ready to try anything.

What’s the worst that can happen?

***

Famous last words.

This is the only thought running through your head as you stand at the top of the beginner ski slope, knees knocking together nervously. Charles had seemed so confident about this yesterday. But now, staring down the gentle incline covered in packed snow, you’re starting to realize how insane it is to strap slippery sticks to your feet and careen down a mountain.

Beginner slope or not, you’re certain to make a fool of yourself.

Charles must notice your trepidation, because he squeezes your mittened hand gently. “You’ve got this, mon amour. I’ll be right by your side the whole time.”

You smile weakly, comforted by his presence. At least when you inevitably crash and burn, it will be into his strong, steady arms.

Charles grins at you eagerly. “Ready to give it a try?”

You take a deep breath, willing your knees to stop quaking. “As I’ll ever be.”

“That’s the spirit!” Charles says brightly. He turns to address the small crowd behind you — his performance coach Andrea, best friend Joris, photographer Antoine, trainer Nico, and friend Antonio. “Okay guys, let’s start nice and easy so she can get the hang of it. We’ll take turns skiing slowly beside her.”

You feel a rush of gratitude for Charles’ patience and consideration. The other men cheerfully voice their agreement. With so many experienced skiers guiding you, surely you can handle gently sliding down this minor incline.

Charles volunteers to go first, expertly snapping into his skis and gliding to your side. “Just stay relaxed, bend your knees, and focus on keeping your tips pointing forward. The snow will do most of the work, you just have to guide the direction. I’ll stay right here if you need me.”

You wobble forward, mimicking Charles’ athletic stance as best you can. The slope doesn’t look nearly as gentle anymore now that you’re staring down it. But with Charles’ coaxing, you slowly push off.

For a moment, you feel triumphant. The icy wind whips past your face as you coast downhill, skis sliding smoothly. You’re doing it! This isn’t so hard after all.

But your small victory is short-lived. An unexpected bump jolts you, throwing off your tenuous balance. You pinwheel your arms frantically as the ground rushes up to meet you.

Before you can taste snow, Charles’ strong hands grip your waist, stabilizing you back upright. “Whoa there! I’ve got you, just regain your balance.”

Your heart pounds against your ribs. But the reassurance in Charles’s voice helps settle your nerves. With his support steadying you, you manage to get both skis back under control.

“Thanks,” you sigh in relief. “That would have been a quick first run.”

Charles grins. “What are ski instructors for? You recovered nicely. Want to keep going to the bottom?”

You eye the remainder of the slope warily. But so far with Charles’ help, you’ve managed not to cause a complete disaster. “Okay, but stay close please.”

“Always,” Charles promises, sticking to your side like glue.

With Charles’ hand hovering protectively behind your back, you make it the rest of the way down the slope with only a few wobbles. At the bottom, you collapse into Charles’ arms, exhilarated.

“I did it!” You cheer. Charles sweeps you up in a hug, spinning you around.

“You were amazing!” He proclaims proudly. “A natural.”

You smack his shoulder. “Oh stop, I would have face-planted in two seconds without you.”

“But you didn’t and that’s what matters,” Charles insists earnestly. “I told you this would be fun!”

You can’t help but smile, caught up in his enthusiasm. As the rest of the group takes their turns skiing slowly beside you for a few more timid runs, you start to relax into the motion. Having skilled athletes guide you step-by-step gives you the confidence to slide a little faster, turn more smoothly, and keep your balance over bumps.

With each successful run, Charles’ grin grows impossibly wider. “Look at you go!” He exclaims after your latest effort. “You’ve gotten so good, I might have some competition soon.”

You snort. “Let’s not get carried away.” But secretly, you’re thrilled by the progress. Maybe you do have some hidden athletic talent after all.

On your next run, you’re feeling confident enough to wave Charles forward. “I think I can make it one time on my own now. Just stay ahead in case I start to wobble.”

“You sure?” Charles checks, poised protectively at your side. At your firm nod, he smiles. “Alright, you’ve got this! I’ll just be a few paces ahead.”

As Charles slides effortlessly downhill, you push off after him, a fierce look of determination on your face. For a few moments, everything goes perfectly. You whoop excitedly as you zip down the slope, wind stinging your cheeks. Charles cheers you on from where he’s stopped halfway down.

But right as you reach him, disaster strikes. Your left ski hits a patch of ice and skids wildly sideways. You flail your arms, trying to stay upright, but it’s too late. Your legs fly out from under you and you’re airborne, the white ground spinning dizzily.

You slam down hard on your bottom with a painful whump. For a second, stunned silence fills the air. Then Charles is at your side, helping you up as raucous laughter echoes from the group gathered at the bottom.

“You okay?” Charles asks, barely contained mirth dancing in his eyes.

You groan theatrically. “Only my pride is bruised.”

Charles wraps an arm around your shoulders, joining in the laughter. “It was an awesome run up until that point!”

You lean your throbbing head against him for support. “Laugh it up, superstar. We can’t all be pros like you.”

Charles presses a quick kiss to your helmet. “Even the pros take spills sometimes. Falling is part of learning. And you really are getting so good!”

From below, Joris cups his hands to shout encouragingly, “We’re proud of you!” The rest of the group gives thumbs up and cheers.

Their support, combined with Charles’ steadfast pride, melts away your embarrassment. This mishap was simply proof you still have more to learn on your journey to skiing mediocrity.

After a few more cautious runs under the wing of Charles’ companions, you regain the courage to try solo again. Each time you stay upright a little longer, recovering from slips with increasing agility. The sun reflects brilliantly off the pristine white slopes, making you squint against the glare. But with the Dolomites rising majestically around you, icy air filling your lungs, and Charles’ voice urging you onward, you feel truly in your element.

By afternoon, the group decides you’re ready for something more challenging. Charles leads everyone to the top of a longer and steeper slope. It’s still rated for beginners, but looking down the incline makes your stomach drop.

“You’ve got this,” Charles says as you stare uncertainly. “It looks scary, but you’ll build up speed gradually. Just remember everything you’ve learned.”

You take a deep breath and nod, encouraged by his vote of confidence. As the others line up to follow behind you, Charles gives your gloved hand one last encouraging squeeze.

“See you at the bottom, mon amour!” He snaps on his own skis and glides smoothly to the base to wait. Heart hammering against your ribs, you push off.

The acceleration down the hill is alarming at first, icy wind biting your cheeks. But focusing on keeping your skis parallel, you manage to control your speed, leaning into smooth turns like Charles taught you.

Halfway down the slope you chance a glance over your shoulder. The group is fanned out behind you, following your path and whooping encouragement. Their cheers on this more difficult hill send a thrill of pride through you. Just wait until you tell your friends back home that you, Miss Uncoordinated Klutz herself, skied down an actual mountain!

But in your moment of distraction, disaster strikes again. Your right ski snags on something, jerking you off balance. Panicked, you spin your arms rapidly to recover. But it’s too late. You’re careening out of control, picking up dangerous speed.

“Look out!” You scream as you zip across the slope sideways. But the ground is racing too fast to stop. Other skiers scatter hastily out of your path as you barrel toward them like a runaway freight train. You slam through their midst in a spray of snow, not even having time to wince apologetically at the curses that follow your wake.

Up ahead, Charles’ figure grows rapidly larger as you hurtle toward him. He holds out his arms bracingly, but the impact when you collide sends you both tumbling head over heels in a tangle of skis and poles. Snow sprays violently in your wake.

When you finally roll to a stop, face down and groaning at the base of the slope, all is silent. Hesitantly you raise your head, blinking snow from your eyelashes. The sight that greets you is one of absolute chaos.

Skiers litter the slope, sprawled in your destructive path like fallen bowling pins. Poles, hats, and gloves are strewn haphazardly across the snow. Fresh scarlet tracks stain the pristine white from ski edges catching on now-shredded pants and jackets. Groans of pain and bewilderment fill the air.

Horrified, your gaze lands on Charles pushing himself up just a few feet away, covered head to toe in snow. He shakes powder from his hair, blinking dazedly. Then his eyes land on you.

“Mon amour, are you okay?” He asks, scrambling over in concern.

Mortified tears prickle your eyes as you stare speechlessly around at the scene of destruction. So much for impressing everyone with your burgeoning ski talents.

Some first day on the slopes this turned out to be.

***

As Charles helps haul you to your feet, pain suddenly explodes in your left knee. You cry out, leg buckling dangerously beneath you. Charles’ arms instantly wrap around your waist, holding you up.

“What’s wrong?” He asks, brow creased in concern.

You grimace, tentatively trying to put weight on your leg again only for searing agony to shoot through your knee joint. “Something’s really wrong,” you gasp through clenched teeth.

Charles’ face pales. He keeps you supported against his side as he quickly unclips your skis so you’re not stuck in them. The moment your left foot touches the snow though, you yell in pain, leg giving out dangerously again.

Charles sweeps you up effortlessly in his arms. “I’ve got you, don’t try to stand on it,” he urges worriedly.

Over Charles’ shoulder, you see his friends weaving through the dispersing crowd of skiers, fetching a medic. As they confer in urgent French and Italian, Charles holds you close, face etched with guilt.

“This is all my fault,” he murmurs, distressed. “I never should have pushed you to try skiing when you weren’t comfortable.”

Despite the fire burning inside your knee, you force a pained smile, touching Charles’ cheek. “Hey, don’t do that. I wanted to try, remember? You didn’t pressure me into anything.”

Charles just shakes his head bitterly. “But look what happened. I’m so sorry, mon amour.”

You open your mouth to protest further, but just then the medic arrives with a toboggan sled. Charles gently sets you down on the padded plastic. You recline back, trying not to jostle your leg as the medic examines your rapidly swelling knee.

At the lightest touch, you flinch away with a sharp cry. The medic frowns. “Possibile lesione al legamento crociato anteriore. Abbiamo bisogno di portarla in ospedale,” he says grimly.

Charles squeezes your hand, face pale. “He thinks you may have torn your ACL. They need to take you to the hospital.”

You blink back panicked tears. You’ve always been prone to clumsiness, but nothing this severe. As the medic gestures ski patrol over to help transport you, the pain throbbing inside your knee seems to mock your brief foray into athleticism. Maybe you just aren’t cut out for winter sports after all.

Charles refuses to leave your side during the bumpy toboggan ride down the mountain. At the base, an ambulance is waiting to take you to the nearest hospital. While the paramedics work swiftly to transfer you into the back, Charles cradles your hand, looking utterly distraught.

“I never should have let this happen,” he berates himself again. “What was I thinking taking an inexperienced skier down that slope?”

Despite your pain-induced haze, you glare sternly at him. “Charles, stop. This isn’t your fault, it’s mine for losing control. Please don’t blame yourself, you’ll make me feel even worse.”

Charles still looks unconvinced. But he forces a tight smile, brushing hair back from your face. “I’m sorry. I just hate seeing you in pain. Let’s just focus on getting you fixed up. The doctors will know how to help.”

You nod, trying not to let panic overwhelm you. As the ambulance wails toward the hospital, Charles keeps his gaze locked comfortingly on yours.

Once there, nurses whisk you immediately in for x-rays and MRIs. Charles paces the waiting room, refusing offers from his friends to bring him food or drinks. When the doctor finally emerges, Charles springs forward anxiously. “How is she?”

The doctor’s solemn expression says it all. “Your girlfriend has sustained a complete ACL rupture. She will require reconstructive surgery as soon as possible to repair it.”

Charles sags back against the wall, color draining from his face. You fight back tears as the doctor explains your diagnosis — one of the worst knee injuries possible. It will require months of intensive rehab even after the surgery.

When the doctor leaves, Charles returns to sit by your side from where he was pacing back and forth. The pain in your knee has settled into a pervasive throbbing. At the sight of your obvious anguish, Charles’ stoic facade finally crumbles.

“I’m so sorry,” he chokes out, rushing to your side. “This is all my fault.”

You grab his hand fiercely, despite the IV of painkillers tugging at your skin. “Charles, stop. I already told you not to blame yourself. It was an accident.”

“An accident I caused by pressuring you to ski,” Charles argues miserably.

You level your most stern glare at him. “Charles Leclerc, you listen to me. I chose to try skiing. Me. Not you.” Your voice softens. “So please stop tormenting yourself over this. It kills me to see you like this.”

Charles searches your face silently for a long moment. Finally he nods, exhaling shakily. “You’re right. I’m sorry.” He gently brushes a strand of hair behind your ear. “I just hate that you’re hurt. But no more blaming myself, I promise.”

You smile weakly. “Good. Now come here.” Charles leans down and you tug him into a fierce kiss, trying to convey without words that you don’t hold him responsible.

When you pull back, Charles looks significantly less tormented. He caresses your cheek tenderly. “I’ll take care of you, I swear. You’ll get the best care possible and recover even stronger than before.”

You try for a teasing smile. “Guess you’ll have to find a new ski bunny next season.”

Charles shakes his head. “Never. No one could ever replace you.” His voice drops earnestly. “I don’t care if you never ski again, I just want you healthy and happy.”

Before you can reply, the doctor returns with consent forms for surgery. When he mentions performing the operation here, Charles’ brow furrows.

“No, she needs the best surgeon possible for this injury,” he argues. Turning to you, he adds, “I know a specialist at a private clinic in Austria. It’s where all the elite skiers go. I’ll fly us there tonight.”

Your eyes widen at the suggestion, but you know better than to argue once Charles is in protective mode. You have a feeling you’re about to receive world-class medical treatment fit for an Olympian.

Sure enough, Charles arranges for emergency transport to the prestigious clinic. On the flight, he sits vigilantly by your side, holding your hand through every painful bump of turbulence. By the time you’re admitted to the glamorous facility, you’re touched, but not surprised by the lengths he’s gone to in order to help you.

The surgeon Charles selected, Dr. Braun, inspires immediate confidence with his warm bedside manner and decorated credentials. After thoroughly examining your knee, he determines you are indeed a candidate for ACL reconstruction.

Charles listens intently as Dr. Braun explains the procedure, involving grafting tissue to replace your ruptured ligament. Though you try to follow along, exhaustion and pain medication make it hard to focus. All you can register is Charles rubbing your shoulder and reassuring you that Dr. Braun is the best there is. You trust Charles completely, so his confidence in this surgeon is enough.

Too soon, nurses arrive to prep you for surgery. As they wheel your gurney toward the operating room, Charles walks alongside, face etched with worry. He leans down to press a gentle kiss to your forehead.

“I’ll be right here when you wake up,” he promises. “I love you so much.”

You cling to his hand for as long as possible before the nurses firmly insist he can’t go any further. As the operating room doors swing shut between you, separating you from Charles, your heart clenches anxiously. But Dr. Braun smiles kindly down at you, patting your arm.

“Not to worry, we’ll have that knee fixed up nicely,” he says. “When you wake, you’ll be on the road to recovery.”

As the anesthesia mask descends and your vision fades to black, you cling to the doctor’s reassuring words. Maybe there’s still hope for a somewhat happy ending to this disastrous ski trip after all.

***

As you blearily open your eyes, the first thing you see is Charles’ worried face hovering over you. The moment he notices you stirring, his expression floods with relief.

“Thank god,” he breathes, grasping your hand tightly. “How are you feeling?”

You blink slowly, trying to clear the hazy fog of anesthesia from your brain. “Okay I think.” Your voice comes out scratchy. You glance down at the heavy brace immobilizing your knee and the events leading up to surgery come rushing back. “Did it … go alright?”

Charles smoothes your hair back gently. “Everything went perfectly. Dr. Braun said it was a very successful surgery.”

You exhale, tension easing from your shoulders. With the capable doctor and Charles by your side, you’ve made it through the first step.

Right on cue, Dr. Braun enters, smiling when he sees you awake. “Wonderful, you’re up. How is our patient feeling?”

“A little groggy, but not too much pain yet,” you report.

“Excellent. The pain medication should be keeping you comfortable.” Dr. Braun moves to your bedside, examining your knee closely. “Everything continues to look promising in recovery. You’ll need to take it very easy for the next few weeks to protect the graft while it heals. But if all goes smoothly, you’ll be back on your feet before you know it.”

You nod, stomach swooping anxiously at the thought of the long recovery ahead. Noticing your nervous expression, Charles gives your hand a reassuring squeeze.

“Whatever she needs, we’ll make sure she has the best care and recovers properly,” he tells Dr. Braun seriously.

The doctor smiles. “Her rehabilitation will be the most crucial part. I work closely with a wonderful physical therapist, Elisa, who specializes in ACL reconstruction recovery. I highly recommend continuing your physio with her once you return home.”

Your eyes widen, not having considered that aspect yet. But Charles nods without hesitation. “Just tell us where she’s located and I’ll arrange for her to fly out to stay with us as long as needed. Money is no object.”

“Whoa, wait a minute,” you interject, head still fuzzy but fairly certain booking a private international physiotherapist is overkill. “That’s incredibly generous, but I’m sure I can find someone local-”

Charles silences you with a stern look. “Not a chance. Dr. Braun said this Elisa is the best. I won’t risk your recovery with anything less.” Turning back to the doctor, he adds, “Just say the word and I’ll have a plane and a place to stay waiting for her.”

You sigh, but can’t help feeling touched at the lengths Charles will go to help you heal. Dr. Braun seems equally unfazed by the bold offer — clearly Charles’ wealth affords certain privileges in care.

“I’ll speak to Elisa immediately and make the arrangements then,” Dr. Braun confirms. “With around the clock support from both her and myself, I’m confident you’ll recover wonderfully.” He gives your other knee an encouraging pat.

Over the next few days in the upscale hospital, you begin to adjust to the restrictive new reality of your injury. While your knee remains heavily braced and immobilized, the rest of your body seems to ache from compensating. But true to his word, Charles sticks to your bedside attentively, keeping you distracted with games and books during the long inactive hours.

When Dr. Braun finally clears you for discharge, you’re armed with piles of post-op instructions, crutches, and medications. As Charles helps you hobble out of the hospital lobby, you eye the crutches nervously.

“I’m not sure I can manage these things along with the brace,” you admit. The awkward metal sticks feel precarious beneath your arms.

Charles frowns, glancing between you and the crutches uncertainly. Then in one swift motion he sweeps you up into his arms instead.

You yelp in surprise, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Charles! What are you doing?”

“Carrying you, obviously,” he states, as if this were the most natural solution in the world. When you open your mouth to protest, he silences you with a look. “The doctor said to stay completely off your leg if possible. So no walking for you until it’s healed.”

You know better than to argue with Charles in protective caretaker mode. So you simply chuckle, shaking your head in amusement, and let him carry you like a princess out to the idling car.

At the airport, he again insists on keeping you cradled securely in his arms the entire walk out to the waiting private jet. Normally you’d feel self-conscious being lugged around like this in front of staff. But the utter tenderness in Charles’ hold makes you feel nothing but safe.

Once settled on the plush leather seat, Charles hurriedly arranges pillows under your braced leg. “Here, keep it elevated like Dr. Braun said. Do you need more pain meds? Let me grab you an ice pack ...”

He fusses attentively until you’re thoroughly bundled up with your knee raised and iced. Only once he’s certain you have everything required for the flight does Charles take his own seat, lacing his fingers through yours.

“Get some rest if you can,” he says gently. “I’ll wake you when we land to carry you home.”

You roll your eyes but can’t help smiling. “My knight in shining armor.” Leaning your head on his shoulder, you nuzzle into his warmth. The steady rumble of the engines is soothing, and despite your lingering aches, you feel yourself beginning to drift off.

Throughout the flight, Charles continues diligently caring for you. He helps you hobble to the restroom with assistance. He ensures you take your next round of medications on schedule. When the flight attendant delivers meals, Charles only picks at his own, too focused on making sure you actually eat to remember his food.

You’re simultaneously touched and exasperated by his hyper-vigilance. But you know it comes from a place of love and residual guilt, so you endure his constant fussing without complaint. If doting on you helps absolve his conscience, then so be it.

By the time the jet begins its descent toward Nice, your eyelids are drooping heavily. Charles lifts the window shade, sunlight streaming over your face. “Almost home,” he says with a tender smile.

You blink groggily, glancing down to make sure your knee is still properly supported. Reassured that Charles hasn’t forgotten a single detail of your care, you nestle back against his chest contentedly.

As the jet coasts down the runway, Charles cradles you close, placing a kiss atop your head. “Get some rest, mon amour. I’ll carry you out and get you settled back home.”

His quiet promise fills you with cozy warmth despite the lingering chill from your ice pack. You let your heavy eyelids fall shut, lulled by the steady thump of Charles’ heart.

Tomorrow your intensive recovery begins. But tonight, safely encircled in your love’s arms thousands of feet in the air, you feel confident you have the strength to face whatever lies ahead.

***

When you wake a few weeks later, pale morning light is just beginning to creep across the blankets. Blearily, you glance over to see Charles already awake beside you, brow furrowed as he stares up at the ceiling.

“You’re up early,” you murmur sleepily. “Everything okay?”

Charles startles slightly, as if pulled from deep thought. He forces a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. “Of course, just thinking about some things.”

You prop yourself up on one elbow, scrutinizing him in concern. His evasive tone is uncharacteristic. “What’s going on? And don’t say nothing, I can tell something’s bothering you.”

Charles holds your gaze silently for a moment before letting out a heavy sigh. “It’s nothing, really. I’ve just been thinking about the start of the season coming up so soon.”

Your brow furrows. The opening race in Bahrain is only two weeks away. As the realization hits, your heart sinks. With your still-mending knee, it will be a lot harder to keep up with Charles globetrotting to races worldwide. For the past two seasons of your relationship, you’ve attended every race possible together. The thought of that no longer being the case feels daunting.

“Oh,” you say quietly. “I guess I hadn’t thought that far ahead yet.”

Charles’ expression is conflicted. He gently takes your hand, “I just hate the idea of leaving you here alone when you’re still recovering. It doesn’t feel right being apart.”

You force an optimistic smile. “Hey, don’t worry about me. I can take care of myself and Elisa will still be here for physical therapy. I’ll be okay.”

But your reassurance doesn’t seem to ease Charles’ frown. “I know, I’m just worried about you re-injuring yourself with no one here. I can get my mother to check on you too ...”

As he spirals back into restless thoughts, you squeeze his hand firmly. “Charles, stop. I’ll be fine, I promise. This isn’t my first time on my own, remember?”

Charles grimaces. “I know, but you’re hurt now. I just hate leaving you when you’re still recovering. If something happened while I was gone ...” He trails off, looking stricken.

Your heart swells at his protectiveness. But you won’t let him torment himself with hypotheticals. Sitting up fully, you level Charles with your most stubborn expression.

“Well then, it’s a good thing you won’t be leaving me here for long, because I’m coming with you just like always.”

Charles gapes. “What? No, you’re injured, there’s no way-”

“Uh uh,” you interrupt firmly. “I’ve been to every race I could since we got together, and I’m not about to miss one now over a bum knee. I’ll agree to skip pre-season testing but then I’m going to Bahrain no matter what.”

Charles' mouth opens and closes wordlessly before he finally manages to argue, “But how will you manage airports and flights and crowded paddocks? You’re still on crutches!”

You wave a hand dismissively. “So I’ll hobble around the paddock looking pathetic, big deal. Better than moping here alone.” Crossing your arms, you fix Charles with your most unyielding stare. “Face it, you’re stuck with me.”

Charles searches your determined expression, clearly trying to formulate another protest. But he knows you too well, can recognize when your mind is made up. With a resigned chuckle, he pulls you against his chest.

“You are the stubbornest person ever, you know that?” He kisses the top of your head, a smile in his voice. “But I really shouldn’t be surprised. Nothing can stop you from being there to cheer me on.”

You grin, basking happily in his embrace. “Damn right. You should know by now that I’m going to be by your side every race, no matter what.”

Charles just shakes his head in amused exasperation, arms tightening around you. “Well in that case, it seems I have some calls to make to arrange for your care in the paddock.”

You kiss his jaw tenderly. “See? Problem solved.” Settling back against the pillows, you add teasingly, “Now stop stressing and let me sleep a little more. Unlike you, I need my beauty rest.”

Charles barks out a laugh, the last tension fading from his frame. As you drift back into cozy slumber cradled against his chest, his steady breathing lulls you like a soothing melody.

Later that morning, it’s time for your daily physical therapy session in the makeshift rehab space set up in your apartment. Elisa guides you through gentle range of motion and strengthening exercises, keeping up cheerful encouragement. The work is grueling, but Elisa’s optimism inspires you to push through the discomfort.

You’ve just finished up with an ice break when hushed voices drift in from the adjacent room. Craning your neck, you glimpse Charles sitting at the kitchen island, phone to his ear as he rifles through an open notebook. Though you can’t make out his full conversation, you catch snippets.

“Need to make sure she has somewhere to rest comfortably ...”

“Don’t want her trying to walk too far ...”

“She says she’ll be fine, but I need to be sure ...”

You muffle a laugh into your hand. Of course Charles is already contacting Ferrari about you joining him in Bahrain, planning every detail to accommodate your injury. Elisa raises a questioning eyebrow but you just shake your head with a smile. Charles’ protectiveness never fails to make your heart melt.

Oblivious to your eavesdropping, Charles continues speaking in a hushed but urgent tone. You can visualize his serious expression pinched with concern, wanting to arrange every detail to ensure your comfort during race weekends.

It’s hopeless trying to curb his caring instincts. So you simply shake your head in amusement and turn back to your exercises, resolved not to override the plans you’re clearly not meant to hear.

After your session concludes, Elisa helps you prop up your leg to ice before gathering her things. “You’re making great progress,” she encourages. “Keep it up and you’ll be back to normal before you know it.”

You smile through your fatigue. “Thanks for everything. See you tomorrow?”

Elisa nods, waving farewell as she heads out. Once she’s gone, you eye your crutches propped nearby. Normally you’d use them to hobble around, but mischief sparks inside you. This seems like the perfect time to test your boyfriend’s hovering instincts.

Bracing yourself on the workout table, you carefully rise to your feet, keeping all weight on your good leg. The short hobble to the living room leaves you breathless, but triumphant.

Rounding the corner, you spot Charles sitting on the couch reviewing emails on his tablet. Before he notices your approach, you boldly flop down to sprawl across his lap.

Charles yelps in surprise, tablet clattering away as his arms reflexively cradle you. “What are you doing walking around alone? Where are your crutches?”

You grin up at him impishly. “Must have forgotten them back there. But I managed okay for a short distance.”

Charles gapes, torn between horror at your recklessness and awe at your determination. You take advantage of his stunned silence to wrap your arms around his neck and tug him down into a kiss.

“Have I mentioned how amazing and caring you are?” You murmur when you finally separate for air. “Taking care of me even when you think I don’t notice?”

Understanding flashes across Charles’ face and his cheeks tint pink. “You heard that phone call earlier, didn’t you?” At your smug grin he groans. “I should have known I couldn’t get anything past you.”

You laugh, nuzzling your nose against his. “It was very sweet. But you really don’t need to go through so much trouble for me.”

Charles’ eyes lock earnestly on yours. “It’s no trouble at all. I want to make sure your needs are taken care of so you can be comfortable and safe.” He brushes your hair back gently. “I hate the thought of you struggling while supporting me at races.”

Your playful expression softens. You take his hand, intertwining your fingers against your heart. “Do whatever you have to do so that you can focus on driving your best without worrying about me. I’m a big girl, I can handle a few weeks of long flights and sitting in the back of your garage instead of standing. As long as I’m cheering for you, I’ll be happy.”

Charles searches your face, as if committing every detail to memory. “I don’t deserve you,” he says finally, voice husky.

You smile, squeezing his hand. “Sure you do. We take care of each other. It’s what partners do.”

Charles’s eyes shimmer with emotion. He cradles your jaw, kissing you deeply. When he draws back, the anxious creases in his face have smoothed away, leaving only tenderness.

“I promise I’ll do my best not to worry,” he concedes. “Just promise you won’t push yourself too hard.”

“Deal,” you agree easily, then smirk. “Now, how about carrying me back to the crutches you claim I so desperately need?”

Charles laughs, once again sweeping you effortlessly into his arms. You cling to his shoulders, perfectly content to let him fuss over you just a little longer.

***

“We should all go skiing together!”

Pierre’s enthusiastic suggestion makes you freeze mid-bite, forkful of pasta suspended comically halfway to your open mouth. Across the table, Charles goes completely still, face draining of color.

Oblivious to your boyfriend’s reaction, Pierre barrels on with growing excitement. “There are some amazing resorts in the Alps we could visit over New Year’s. Epic mountains, fresh powder-”

“No!” Charles interjects forcefully. He looks mildly ill at just the thought. “Absolutely not happening.”

Pierre blinks in surprise at the vehement refusal. Even his girlfriend, Kika, appears confused by Charles’ sudden change in demeanor. You have to press your lips together to keep from laughing at their bemused expressions.

“But why?” Pierre asks, brow furrowed. “I thought you loved skiing.”

Charles shudders. “Not anymore. Not after ...” He trails off, eyes darting to you meaningfully.

Understanding dawns on Pierre’s face. “Oh! Right, of course.” He smiles apologetically. “Sorry, I didn’t think-”

You wave a hand, unable to contain your amusement any longer. “It’s okay, Pierre. I know you didn’t mean to bring up traumatic memories.” You cast a teasing glance at Charles. “But I think skiing might permanently be off the table for us.”

Charles nods emphatically. “Absolutely. Never again. From now on, we take beach vacations only. Somewhere warm, with no snow, mountains, or treacherous icy slopes.” He shudders again for effect.

By now, you’re laughing so hard you have to set down your water glass to avoid spilling it. You knew Charles was still sensitive about the topic of skiing, but you hadn’t anticipated him having such an extreme reaction tonight. His overprotective dramatics are too adorable.

Still chuckling, you lean over to smack a kiss on his cheek. “You’re being ridiculous, but it’s very sweet that you’re so traumatized on my behalf.”

Charles wraps an arm around you, some tension easing from his shoulders. “After what you went through, can you blame me for swearing off anything to do with skiing forever?” He shakes his head vehemently. “Never again. It was the most terrifying experience. I thought I might have permanently damaged the love of my life.”

Your heart melts. “I’m completely fine now, thanks to you. But I can understand preferring to avoid ski trips in the future.” You smile teasingly. “We can find a nice beach to lounge on instead.”

Pierre chuckles. “Yeah, that’s probably smarter. Sorry for bringing up bad memories.” He smiles sheepishly across the table. “A tropical vacation does sound nice though!”

The group dissolves into easy laughter, the awkwardness forgotten. The conversation meanders to warmer destinations and the approaching off-season. Charles eventually relaxes his grip on you, seeming reassured that skiing is off the table.

You make it through the rest of the amicable double date without incident. As you all exit the restaurant into the cool night air, Pierre turns to you and Charles apologetically.

“Really sorry again for that ski trip suggestion earlier. Definitely wasn’t thinking.”

You wave off his concerns with an easy smile. “Don’t worry about it! No harm done.” You pause, then add impishly, “Though from now on, Charles may vet all vacation plans just to be safe.”

Charles nods, face comically serious. “It’s true. I take your physical safety very seriously now.” His grave expression cracks into a grin. “So expect lots of beach vacations in our future together!”

Everyone dissolve into laughter again. After final farewell hugs, you and Charles head to your car, his arm wrapped securely around your shoulders.

Once home, Charles tucks you into bed with an amount of care bordering on reverence. As he curls up behind you, you lace your fingers through his against your heart.

“Have I told you lately how amazing you are?” You murmur into the darkness.

You feel Charles smile against your hair. “Maybe, but feel free to say it again.”

You snuggle deeper into his embrace. “You’re pretty much the best boyfriend on the planet. I love how protective you are over me, even when it’s a bit dramatic. It just shows how much you care.”

Charles presses a kiss to the top of your spine. “Of course I care. You mean everything to me.” His voice drops lower. “I never want to be the reason you get hurt again.”

You roll over to face him, gently cradling his jaw. “You could never hurt me. What happened was an accident, and I recovered just fine. So no more feeling guilty, okay?”

Even in the dim light you can see the sincerity in Charles’ eyes as he searches your face. “You really are too good for me,” he murmurs. “I’ll try to stop feeling overly responsible. Though I make no promises on vetoing future ski trip suggestions,” he adds with a teasing grin.

You laugh, snuggling happily against his chest. “Now get some sleep.”

As his breaths deepen into slumber, you reflect on how lucky you are to have found someone so devotedly caring. With Charles’ fiercely protective presence heating the sheets beside you, the future — filled with sandy beaches rather than ski slopes — looks bright indeed.

[seospicybin]

TEST DRIVE.

Changbin x reader. (s)

Synopsis: Meeting a cute biker at a traffic light, you shoot your shot and go on a date with him to discover whether he meets all of your ideal types. (7,3k words)

Related chapter: JOYRIDE.

Author's note: Hope you like this one too and let me know what you think about it :)

It all happens on a random day and at a random place.

You're waiting for the lights to turn green and a motorcycle stops next to your car. You don't even mean to ogle but his arms, they're so big that they catch your attention right away and the muscles contract as he grips the handlebar.

Something about his stance gives the impression that he's bigger than the motorcycle he's riding which makes you can't stop staring.

The biker turns his head at you, probably noticing that you've been staring at him. You can't see his face with the full helmet he's wearing, but you know you should have said something to make you less of a creep to him.

You roll down your window and decide to greet him, "Hi!"

He pulls the visor of his helmet, exposing his round, brown eyes, "Hi," he says back with his voice muffled by the helmet.

Keeping one hand on the steering wheel, you turn your head at him and teasingly say, "You're cute."

He taps at the side of his helmet, gesturing that he can't hear you the first time, "What?"

You lean out of the window of your car and talk louder, "I think you're cute."

He looks away and glances up at the traffic lights, checking if it will turn green soon. He then pulls something out of his jacket, a phone.

The lights are about to turn green soon and you have no idea what he's going to do with it. Without warning, he throws his phone through your window and it lands on your lap.

You look at him with eyes widening, "Wh-what?"

"Put your numbers in," he says, gripping the handlebar with both hands now and revving the engine.

"What?" You cluelessly ask while holding his phone in your hand.

"I'll get my phone on the next light," he says, not saying anything else but launching his bike forward.

Before the cars behind you honk in complaint, you drop the guy's phone back into your lap and hurriedly drive your car through the intersection.

The motorcycle is nowhere in sight but you assure yourself that he'll be there at the next red lights as he promised. However, he's not there when you get there.

You keep your faith and immediately put your numbers into his phone, not forgetting to add a contact name.

Red Lights Hottie, you type and add a fiery heart emoji. You're giggling as you save the contact.

The sound of the roaring engine gets you smiling, you look to the side and find him there, you hold your hand out of the window to return his phone.

He put one foot down and outstretches his hand toward you, to get his phone back. He holds your hand for a moment but all you feel is the rough exterior of his leather gloves.

He checks his phone right away and it's a shame that you can't see his reaction to the contact name you use.

"I'll call you," he says as he slides his phone back into his jacket pocket and zips it.

"You'd better," you tell him, flashing him a seductive smile as you roll your window up.

Notice that the lights are about to turn green, you wave your hand at him along with another seductive smile and drive away first.

If we're being honest, yes, you want him to call but you choose not to fuss about it much. If he calls, then great. If not, well, that's his loss.

Two days later, still no call but you received a text.

Hey. This is Changbin. The bike guy.

The text is so short and simple, that you decide to make it playful.

Which bike guy? Can you make it more specific?

You jokingly type and hit send. A reply comes a minute later.

The guy who threw his phone at you at the traffic lights.

Goodness, he's so forthright, and somehow, you find it cute.

Oh, you mean, the big, sexy, muscular biker whom I found cute?

The reply comes a little later than the previous one, you guess he's taking his time to write back to you.

Yes. That's the one.

Ooh, sexy and confident, what a lethal combination! The thought reminds you of his biceps and bulky figure, he's so big and you're a girl with a big appetite. Just know that you'll enjoy every bite of it.

As if it tries to stop your mind drifts farther, and your phone dings with a new text.

You're up for a ride this Saturday?

Wow, okay, nothing is hotter than a guy who knows what he wants and goes for it. This Changbin guy is already halfway to winning your heart.

Ride the bike? Or...?

You're biting your lips as you're typing, giggling as you hit send.

We'll figure... he cryptically wrote in his reply.

And he knows to keep it exciting, oh, he's getting there as you feel a tingle down your spine.

Pick you up at 5?

I'm already waiting, you write back.

-

The time is here and the second the roaring sound of his motorcycle engine vibrating through your eardrums, your heart leaps and you get hit by a sudden wave of excitement.

This will be your first experience being on a date with a biker and that adds to the excitement.

Changbin stops his bike on the side of the road, turns off the engine, and parks the bike. You haven't truly seen his face and that explains why you get a little nervous when he's about to take his helmet off.

He shakes his head once the helmet is off, revealing his dark and curly hair. He turns away to put it on top of the bike and then walks up to you.

This is the first time you see him up close and you like what you're seeing. Sharp eyes, and a sharp chin but when he smiles, those features soften and show the dimple on his right cheek. His eyes are as welcoming as the last time he looked at you.

"Hi," he says, his smile grows wider as he looks right into your eyes.

"Hi," you say back, feeling so small against him even though you only have a few inches of difference in height.

"Are you ready to go?" He asks, brushing away the curls that fall to his eyes.

"Yes," you say while daringly looking back into his eyes.

"Are you going to wear that?" He softly asks.

You suddenly check your appearance, you're wearing a long-sleeved white top and blue jeans because this is what you deem appropriate enough for a bike ride.

"Why? Do I– is it not...?" You ask in confusion while hugging yourself, feeling insecure thinking that he doesn't like what he's seeing.

He doesn't say anything but takes his jacket off, then hands it to you, "You can wear mine," he says.

"Oh?" You lowly gasp, not only that he's being chivalrous side but he's also showing more of his body.

Changbin only wears a plain black t-shirt underneath and his muscles fit the space perfectly, you can almost make out the shapes of his body through the fabric.

It's a good thing that you forgot to put on a jacket or else, you'd miss this lascivious view. He watches as you put the jacket on and it hangs loosely on you, especially around the shoulders.

"Ready to go now?" He asks again.

"Yes."

He has an extra helmet with him, he helps you with the strap and offers his hand as a support to help you get onto the back of the bike.

Despite feeling so exposed to the danger, it's such a thrill to feel the engine vibrate under and between your legs. Your heart beats faster and faster as Changbin revs the engine.

He then looks over his shoulder to say, "Hold on tight."

You place your hands on each side of his waist and grip it tighter the moment Changbin sends the bike launching forward and gliding through the streets.

Once you get the hang of riding on the back of the bike, you can relax and you guess that also comes from trusting Changbin and that he'll keep you safe. You begin to enjoy the ride and the wind that blows past you as the bike glides through the streets.

Getting comfortable, you put your arms around his waist and rest your hands on his chest. You indulge yourself with some touching, caressing his stomach and feeling his majestic abs through the fabric of his black t-shirt.

Changbin doesn't stop you so you reckon he doesn't mind with it and that encourages you to get bolder. When the bike stops at the traffic lights, you draw your hands from around his waist and place them on his arms, gliding them up and then squeezing on his glorious biceps. They're so big and firm, that you can't help but squeeze them again.

That seems to get his attention as he turns his head and places his hand on the side of your thighs, tapping at it as he asks, "Okay?"

"More than okay," you say as you glide your hand down to his forearm and feel the veins coiling down his arm.

Surprisingly, he catches your hand and puts it around his waist again as the lights turn green. He picks up the speed and goes faster than before, making you wrap your arms around him tightly. He makes a turn at the intersection and you reckon he's taking you to the pier.

Arrive there, he helps you take your helmet off and you quickly fix your hair but it's useless with the wind that blows from the sea.

He takes you for an early dinner at a Mexican restaurant and getting to know each other in between bites of chicken fajitas.

It's fascinating that you learn a lot about him that ticks a lot of boxes on your ideal type. Honestly, you don't really care whether he fits your ideal type or not, Changbin struck your fancy as soon as your eyes landed on him.

The sun is halfway sinking into the horizon when both of you come out of the restaurant and decide to take a stroll down the pier.

You stop at the end of the pier and look out at the sea that goes as far as you can see with the sun that tirelessly shines before it gets replaced by the moon.

Sensing that he hesitates to make physical contact with you, you take the initiative and make the first move. You stand leaning against the railing and let him cage you between his arms.

In this proximity, you can take a closer look at his face and how his eyes are an intense dark brown, which adds depth to his gaze. The kind that makes you flustered when he stares at you for too long.

You drop your hands around his shoulders and tangle your fingers in his soft curls, "Is this your natural hair?"

"Yes," he answers with that smile that makes his right dimple appear.

"That's cute," you compliment, scratching the tendrils on the nape of his neck.

He shyly smiles and you like how he looks tough but actually sweet and easily get flustered.

"You think so?" He asks.

"I told you you're cute the first time we met," you remind him, sliding your hands down his arms and making him put them around you.

"And what do you think about me?" You ask back.

Changbin gets flustered again and lets out a shy chuckle, you feel the need to encourage him to answer.

"Do you think I'm cute or sexy or...?" You're tilting your head to the side and seductively smiling at him.

He looks away then brings his mouth close to your ear, "No, I don't think so."

"Oh...?" You frown and glare at him.

He then leans in and whispers, "I think you're extremely attractive."

Your frown turns into a big grin and pulls him close, not letting him get away from you, "You think so, mmh?"

"I'm struggling not to kiss you right now," he admits, his hands resting on the arch of your back and you can feel each of his fingers pressing on your skin.

"Why choose to struggle when you can just do it," you murmur, looking up at him and putting your hands on his neck.

"Can I kiss you?" He asks, his voice turns lower than before.

You grab his chin and slightly tilt it down, "Do you really have to ask?"

Your eyes meet in a gaze and burst into laughter at the same time, you both know that the tension is soaring high, and laughing it out is the only way to slow down.

However, when your eyes eventually lock in a gaze again, the urge to kiss him grows stronger and you don't want to wait anymore.

"Come here," you say, putting your hand on his jaw and angling his head your way so you can kiss him.

The kiss is everything you imagined it would be but his lips, oh, they're much softer than you expected and he's brushing them over your lips, then kisses you rather passionately.

Good kisser? Changbin also checked that box!

You slowly pull away but he hasn't had enough of it yet and immediately pulls you into another kiss, making you smile against his lips.

"Your lips are so soft," he compliments with a soft smile.

"And you're a good kisser," you compliment back.

Changbin tenderly swipes his thumb across your lips and gives you a quick peck after. He then places his hands on each side of your waist and draws you closer against him.

"Can you swim?" He asks out of the blue.

"Why?"

Without warning, he hoists you up and teasingly pushes you into the sea, but with his strong grip, you know he's holding you back from falling into the water. You're squealing as you struggle to stand upright and cling to his shoulders.

He has good a laugh after putting you down and holds you close, "You can swim, right?"

You slap his chest but you know it's not hard enough to hurt him, "Yes, I can swim but I don't want to get wet," you answer.

"Not yet," you quickly add with an eyebrow raised.

After sundown, Changbin decides that it's time to get on another ride, noticing that you let the front of your jacket open, he turns you around and makes you face him.

"I don't want you to get cold," he says.

You get that fluttering feeling as he's slowly zipping up the jacket and then helps you fix your hair. An idea comes to mind as he takes his keys out of his jeans pocket.

"Can I start the bike?"

"You want to start the bike?" He asks to confirm.

"Yes, please?"

It's the only way you know for a man to not be able to resist you, the magic word 'please' and puppy eyes, you do exactly in that order along with an innocent smile.

"Sure," he finally answers.

You hop on the bike and watch as he inserts the key into the ignition, he then takes your hand to place it on the right handle.

"You push this button," he instructs, pointing at the red ignition button with his thumb and pressing it together with you.

You get started as the bike turns on and he makes you wrap your hand around the handle.

"Turn it to rev the engine," he says, talking louder against the sound of the motorcycle engine.

You twist the handle and the engine roars according to how hard you rev it, you feel a rush of adrenaline surging through you. You hold the other handle and act like you're riding it.

"Do I look cool?" You playfully ask him.

He softly chuckles and puts his hand on your thigh, "You look cool," he says.

"Just cool?"

"No," He leans into your ear to whisper, "I think you look incredibly sexy."

You get flustered but your hand somehow pulls him close by the front of his t-shirt and gives him that look, a look that asks for his tongue down your throat.

Changbin seems to get the signal as he cups your jaw and presses a kiss on your lips. He's getting more comfortable making physical contact with you and that's relieving because deep down, you've been feeling a little insecure.

Sadly, he pulls away a little too soon and you reflexively whine in response.

"At least, give me a little tongue," you jokingly say.

He takes a step back and shyly smiles, and you think he doesn't take it seriously until he leans in to give you exactly that, a kiss with a little more tongue.

To be honest, he's doing it so well that you gasp for air the second he breaks the kiss.

"Ready to go now?"

"Yes."

Changbin takes you on another ride to enjoy the sunset as the bike goes through the scenic route until the last slivers of sun disappear and the day officially turns to night.

Whenever the bike stops at a traffic light, you use it as an opportunity to touch him, feeling his body through his clothes and at the muscles that lie under the fabric. Feeling mischievous, you trace down his sides and then rest your hands on his inner thighs.

Noticing what you're doing, he rests his back against you and puts your arms around his neck instead. He turns his head to the side, bumping his helmet with yours as he does it.

"You're ready to go home, mmh?" He asks, his hand rubbing on your knee.

"I'll go anywhere you take me," you teasingly say as you caress his chest.

In all honesty, you don't want it to end yet, you just want to be on this endless joyride with him. But the night is still young and you know a way or two on how to spend it with Changbin.

Stopping right in the parking lot of your apartment building, you get off first and untie the helmet straps under your chin, then take it off and quickly fix your hair afterward. You wait until he takes his helmet off to ask something.

"Want to come to my place?"

He seems to not expect that question due to the fact that this is a first date and a girl rarely asks that on the first date.

Changbin roughly brushes his hair to the back and places his helmet on the handlebar of the motorcycle, "Your place?"

"Uh-huh," you nod.

This is your turn to cage him between your arms as he leans against the bike, "I might be able to teach you a few riding techniques at my place," you say with a seductive smile.

He uses both hands to brush your hair to the side and keeps them there, "Does your place have two wheels?"

"No, but they have two legs," you cheekily answer.

Changbin continues brushing your hair to your back and then holds you close, he's slyly smiling as he stares into your eyes, making your inside melt. You don't even know why you're not turning into jelly already.

"And it can go in reverse really well," you whisper into his ear then plant a kiss on his neck.

He shyly chuckles at that and now laying his hand flat on your abdomen. His body heat seeps through his leather gloves and you can feel the warmth of his hand through your clothes.

"That's actually a good feature because most bikes can't go in reverse," he says with a smirk.

Your hands hike up his arms again and stop at his shoulders, one hand continues its way to the nape of his neck so you can angle his head as you place.

You tilt his head slightly downward and playfully bite at his lower lip before taking both lips in your mouth. You kiss him hard and he returns the kiss with the same eagerness, teeth, and tongues clashing in your mouth.

Time works strangely when you kiss, it feels so slow when your lips touch, and when you pull away, time has flown so fast.

"So..." you continue talking while rubbing your hands up and down his arms, "how about we go to my place and I can show you how well it rides in reverse?"

He places a sweet kiss on your cheek and then rests his forehead against yours, "Oh, so I get to test drive?"

"Yes," you confidently answer.

"Oh, most dealerships don't do test drives for bikes," he says, playing with the end of your hair on your back.

"Well, it's your lucky day," you say, slowly leaning in to give him a long peck on the lips.

The second the door swings open, both of you rush to get into the privacy of your apartment, and your lips are instantly locked in a passionate kiss.

Changbin pushes you against the wall and takes both of your hands, pinning them above your head as he buries his head in the crook of your neck.

"Oh..." you moan as he sucks on the sensitive skin.

He was shy and easily flustered earlier but once the two of you are alone, he's becoming one sexy beast. Your lips constantly latched with his and he kisses you deep and hard until you run out of breath.

Still holding your wrists with one hand, he turns you around and has your back against him, he immediately plants his mouth on your shoulder while his free hand goes south.

Impatient, Changbin yanks your jeans open until they give away and wastes no time to slip his hand inside, cupping your clothed sex in his hand. At the same time, he's humping you from the back as his fingers trace your folds through the flimsy fabric of your underwear.

No one says anything as the two of you get controlled by desires and both of your bodies are answering each other's wants and needs.

The room is filled with nothing but the smooching sounds of your kisses, the breathless gasps in between, and the rustles of your clothes rubbing together.

After a while, you break the kiss and say, "Let's take it to the bedroom, yeah?"

He takes a step back and turns you around, not letting you go without a long kiss on your lips.

"Lead the way," he says to you.

You take his hand and pull him along with you to your bedroom, you let go so you can take your jeans off and then climb onto the bed.

"Come here, you big boy," you seductively call him, flicking your finger to gesture him to come closer.

Changbin stands at the end of the bed while you're kneeling on the bed, making you both almost at the same eye level. You tug at the hem of his t-shirt and he lifts his arms so you can take it off of him.

"Mmh, yeah..." you hum in astonishment at the sight of his big, muscular body right in front of you and waste no time putting your hands all over, feeling the outline of his abs.

"You're so hot," you say, planting kisses across his chest.

You continue the trail of kisses to his neck and playfully nibble at his ear, "Why are you so hot, mmh?"

Changbin gently tugs at your hair and brings your head close to him, then he holds your head in both hands like you're a fragile object. As he looks into your eyes, he softly kisses your lips, softer and gentler than the previous one.

"Let's make it fair," he says, taking his turn to take your top off.

He sighs as he takes a look at you half-naked with only your undergarments on. He cups your jaw and kisses you, one hand secretly makes its way to the back to unclasp your bra.

"Oh!" You gasp as he successfully takes your bra off and you help by tossing it aside.

You take his hands and put them on your breasts, making him hold them in his hands, "Do you like them?" You lowly ask.

He lightly rubs your nipple with his thumb but his eyes do not stray away from yours "They're perfect."

He cups your breasts in both hands and gently squeezes at them, "So perfect in my hands," he hums.

As he crashes his lips on yours again, you reach down for his jeans and work them open without looking, you stroke his bulge after you manage to unzip his fly. You can tell how big he is just from feeling it through his dark briefs.

"Feel how hard I am for you?" He speaks against your lips.

"Uh-huh," you answer.

He detaches his lips from yours and backs away, taking a moment to take his jeans off along with his dark briefs while you sit on the bed, waiting for him.

The moment he turns around to reveal his glorious body to you, you let out a sigh of wonder and you just can't look away, it's even a miracle that you're not blind after seeing it.

"How are you so fucking hot?" You ask in disbelief.

The shy Changbin makes a return, he charges toward you until both of you stumble onto the bed. He then hovers above you, planting his lips on yours again.

"How come you're so fucking hot, mmh?" You ask again as he kisses the column of your throat.

Your hand flies to his head as he bites at your ear but he's quick to catch it, he then pins both of your hands against the bed.

All you can do is helplessly lie under him as he glides his mouth down to your breasts, he starts licking your nipple in circular motions before taking it into his greedy mouth.

"Ouw, baby!" You yelp in pain as he sucks on your breast so hard you believe it'll leave a mark.

Yet Changbin only laughs in response with his mouth full of your ample flesh. He then does the same thing to the other breast, tugging your nipple in between his teeth and playfully pulling at it.

"You're enjoying it way too much," you say.

After a while, he lets go of your hands and puts them around his neck. He carefully lowers his body and props his elbows against the bed to not put his whole weight on you.

The temperature keeps on rising as your skin rubs against his skin and there's no gap left between your bodies. Your breath hitches as his hand discovers the wetness between your legs and he's using his fingers to trace your folds, and ultimately your bundle of nerves to circle on it.

"So wet for me," he murmurs.

"So wet, yeah," you innocently repeat the words back to him.

Changbin intently watches your face as his fingers tease on your clit, applying gentle pressure on it and making your underwear drenched in your essence. The underwear starts to get in the way so he puts it to the side and then runs his fingers down your slit repeatedly, making you moan.

"You're so sensitive," he murmurs at you with eyes wide and dark with lust.

As if that isn't enough, he pushes his finger into you and you can feel it stretching you out. He intensely gazes into your eyes as he moves his finger inside.

"Ooh..." you moan, fingers clawing at his shoulder.

Changbin deems you can take another one so he adds one more finger and now two fingers are inside, stretching you out more than before.

"Oh, the way you suck my fingers in," he sighs, then hastily kisses your open mouth.

Your body seeks more of him, you're arching your back and start riding on his fingers as moans spilling out of your mouth all the while Changbin is calmly watching you.

"Let me find—" he doesn't get to finish his sentence as he finds that spot that makes you sharply gasp.

"This is it, mmh?" He asks, nuzzling his nose to your neck and kissing you there.

A moment later, he slowly pulls his fingers out of you and shows you his fingers coated with your essence. He doesn't hesitate to shove them into his mouth and licks them clean.

The scene is highly erotic and you want to taste yourself on him too, you pull him in and kiss him deeply, wanting to get a taste of you on his tongue.

"Can you please take my underwear off for me?" You sweetly ask.

"With pleasure," he says, getting off to stand at the end of the bed again. He tugs his fingers on the elastic band on your underwear and slowly, pulls it down until it's off your legs.

Changbin draws a long breath when he looks at your naked body against the white sheet for his eyes only. You can see his eyes grow wider and darker the longer he stares at your body while you get flustered under his lustful gaze.

"Are you going to keep staring at me or..." You take his hand and intertwine your fingers with his, "Do something about it?"

One corner of his mouth raises higher than the other, forming a devilish smirk on his face that takes his attractiveness to a whole new level.

He glides his hand down your leg and grips your waist, "I want to ruin you."

The thrill you feel the moment you hear that, oh, that's the best way to go, isn't it? Getting ruined by him and his huge cock.

Using his hand, he parts your legs open, exposing your gushing hole to him, and can't take his eyes off of it even for a second. He licks his lips repeatedly as if he's been craving it his whole life.

Changbin positions himself between your legs and puts his cock between your legs, slowly rubbing it between your folds and at the same, gives you an idea of how deep he's going to be inside you.

"You think you can take me?" He asks you.

"Uhm..." you pretend to consider it for a moment, "I think so, yeah."

He's smirking as he uses the tip of his cock to rub your clit, "You think so?"

You nod even though you're doubting yourself for that as his cock grows bigger the more he rubs it between your folds.

"Do you want it in?" He softly asks with a caress on your cheek.

You nod and an idea comes to mind, "Can I put it in myself?"

He flashes you a smile, "Be my guest."

You slightly raise your body and then prop your elbow against the bed, using your free hand, you hold his cock and feel how hot it is in the palm of your hand. The more you stroke it, the more impatient you get to have him inside you.

"I'm putting it in," you inform him.

Changbin puts both hands against the mattress, allowing him to slightly bend down and giving him just the right position to penetrate you.

You concentrate hard on aligning his cock to your entrance and push it in, but you're so wet that it glides upward. You hurriedly try again, aiming his tip into your entrance once more, and push yourself forward to take him in and still fail. Then you realize it's not you or how wet you are for him, it's him, he's too big for you.

"Why your cock is so fucking big?" You half-jokingly say to him.

Changbin smirks again and takes control of it, "Let me help," he says.

He lets you hold it and once you manage to put his tip into you, he pushes it in until a part of his length disappears into you.

"Ah..." you whine, feeling full already and he's only halfway there.

"It's just the tip and it already feels so good," he murmurs, rubbing the side of your thigh.

"More," you daringly say after preparing yourself to take more of him.

He doesn't say anything but draws his cock out to the tip and pushes it back in, not stopping until his length is fully buried deep inside you.

"Oh..." he hisses through his parted mouth and keeps his cock deep inside you to let you adjust yourself to his size.

"Oh, baby!" You whine, your eyes rolling to the back at how overwhelming it is to have his full length inside you. This is it, you think, this is how you're going to die.

Somehow, you want to keep looking down and deeply aroused at the sight of his cock disappearing into you, and ultimately, feeling surprised that you can take him well.

"Look at that! You take me so well," he says along with kisses down your jaw.

You look at him with innocent eyes and ask, "Do I feel good?"

He kisses you so hard on the lips and then holds the side of your face, "You feel so good that I don't want to pull out."

With a hand on your chest, he slowly pushes you down until you lay on your back again. He puts his hands against the mattress for support and it gives him the leverage to move, thrusting into you at a steady pace.

Maybe it's his size or maybe he just knows how to fuck, you can feel every drag of his cock against your wall and it feels so good that all you can do is lay back and take every thrust like a good girl.

Your hands are gripping the sheets underneath you, your breasts are jiggling along to every thrust and moans are constantly falling out of your mouth.

"Turn over for me, baby," he says.

You're too fucked out to process his words and he ends up doing it for you, turning you over without pulling out. He then grips each side of your waist and continues thrusting into you.

"Harder, yeah?" He asks, deciding it on his own but you don't mind any of it.

He takes your arms by the elbows, forcing you to kneel on the bed, and then folds them behind your hands, strongly gripping at them as he thrusts harder into you.

"Oh, my– Oh!" You're a moaning mess against him, feeling the intensity in each of his thrusts and nudging you right on the spot.

It's embarrassing that you're already close to your climax but you know he can sense it, and instead of stopping, he goes harder. He puts his arm across your chest to keep you upright with his hand squeezing on your breast.

"Oh, God, I'm close, close," you manage to form coherent words despite your brain being clouded in adulterated pleasure.

"Cum for me," he says right into your ear, hand wrapping around your neck and angling it toward him, "Cum around me."

With that being said, you allow yourself to let go and let the pleasure take over you. You let out a high-pitched moan as he thrusts right at your spot and takes you to your release. You're lowly whimpering as you're flailing against him but fortunately, he holds you close to keep you steady.

"You okay?" He asks in slight concern.

"Mmh-hmm," you nod, turning your head to the side to kiss him.

It's very gentlemanly of Changbin to let you cum first, he manages to make you cum and puts his need aside. It's rare to find that quality in a man and you feel lucky to find it in him.

"Congratulations!" You say to him while lying on top of him.

He stops brushing your hair and looks at you in confusion, "For what?"

You land a long peck on his lips before answering, "For officially become my ideal type."

A smile rises on his fluffy cheeks and he kisses you back, his hands moving down your back and only stopping when his hands meet the ample flesh of your asscheeks, then kneading on them.

"Now I'm going to show you how well I ride in reverse," you whisper into his ear.

He lets out a chuckle and playfully slaps at your asscheeks, "is it finally the time."

You nod, "Are you ready?"

He kisses you hard and lets go with a gasp, "Fuck yeah, I'm ready."

The fact that Changbin's cock remains hard and swollen only proves that he's not like any other man which also makes you want to please him more. He gave you one of the best orgasms you ever had in your life and it's only fair if you return the favor to him.

"How are you still hard?" You curiously ask and he only answers with a cocky shrug.

You're straddling him with your back facing him, you lubricate his cock with your juice and smear it all over with your hand, then continue pumping it with both hands.

Changbin holds you by the waist as you position his cock into your entrance, he holds you steady and watches from the back as you slowly lower yourself in him.

"Oh, my, it doesn't get any better on the second time," you jokingly remark.

He may take it as a joke but not on your part, he feels much bigger than before and you start to doubt yourself again whether you can take him or not.

"Take it slow," he instructs from behind you while guiding your movement.

You follow his instructions, taking him little by little, and not forget to take breaths in between. You close your eyes and relax yourself so you can take him all in.

"Just like that, baby," he murmurs but his fingers are digging into the flesh on your waist.

By the time you take all of him, you let out a sigh of relief and look over your shoulder at him, "Like that?"

"Exactly like that," he sighs, lowering his hand to the curve of your ass and then landing a slap on it, "Now, move!"

With a yelp of pain, you start moving, bouncing on his cock with your hands propped on his chest. When you get tired, you switch by leaning forward and holding on to his thighs.

Being on top allows you to take control, you know it should be about you pleasing him but you can't stop yourself from enjoying it.

Changbin's hand snaking to the front to play with your clit, syncing his hand movements to yours to give you the utmost pleasure.

"Oh, no, I'm close already," you breathlessly admit with your head tilted up.

"Keep going, baby," he encourages you when you know you should have slowed down.

Yet your body moves on its own, chasing after another release like the first isn't enough. You plant your feet against the bed to provide you more depth and automatically, more pleasure for both of you.

"Oh, baby!" You cry with your eyes screwed shut, getting tired from tirelessly pulsating your hips against him.

Noticing that, Changbin decides to take control, he pulls you until your back lying against his chest and holds you close. He then holds your legs by the back of your knee, lifts them, and keeps them open as he starts bucking his hips from under you.

His strong arms and his strong legs are working hard tonight and you feel bad for making him do most of the work, but you find yourself not more than a rag doll on top of him.

"You're so deep inside me," you whimper, turning his head to the side to capture his lips in a slobbering kiss.

He starts to pick up the pace and you can hear the skin slapping sounds grow louder, endlessly echoing in the room.

"Gosh, I can feel you all over me," you whine against his lips.

Changbin uses all of his strength to keep thrusting into you and keep going even after sensing that you just cum around him the second time.

"Oh, God, oh..." you cry as you nestle your head into his neck while he rides through your orgasm, stimulating your already sensitive spot.

"Just a bit more," he says through his gritted teeth and bucks his hips so hard that you feel faint.

Your eyes see nothing but white and it feels like your soul has left your body, you never passed out before but it feels like it.

"Changbin, oh..." you cry, clawing at his forearm and feeling a tear rolling down the side of your cheek.

The growl he lets out is raw and animalistic, and that's when you know he has reached his high. He plants his cock deep inside you and you can feel something hot filling you along with his cock pulsating against your walls. There's nothing like it, oh, it's just you and him, completely fucked out.

"I don't think I have energy left to move," you say, not even able to lift your eyes open.

He manages to find your lips and presses a sloppy kiss, "Then let's not move."

You both stay like that, sharing his pillow and you're using his body as your bed, his skin feels warm and moist against you but you're not any better. Your skin is coated with a sheen of sweat and your hair is stuck to your forehead.

After a moment, you gathered enough to turn your head and look at him, you caressed his jaw to get his attention.

"Are you okay, my perfect guy?"

He inhales air and turns his head at you, "I'm okay. Just tired," he shortly answers.

You suddenly feel affectionate toward him and decide to place kisses on his face and neck while he's gathering his senses.

As you look at him, lying next to you with eyes closed, you feel affectionate towards him and that's new because you've only known him today yet he feels like someone you can trust your life to.

"Can I tell you something?" you ask while gently rubbing his chin with your knuckle.

He takes your hand and brings it to his mouth to kiss it, "What?"

You bring your head close to his side and stare into his eyes, "I don't want this to be a one-time thing."

He looks back into your eyes and clasps your hand with his, resting it close to his heart.

"I like you too much for that," you confess, saying that makes you feel more naked than you already are and the ball is in his court now.

"What do you think?"

Changbin takes a deep breath and lets it out as he stares at the ceiling. You give him time to think and you don't want to pressure him.

"Well, one test drive is all it takes," he answers with a smirk.

You chuckle at that but your question remains, you want to know whether he agrees that this should continue or not, and Gosh, you hope it's the former.

He looks at you with a soft smile on his face, "I'm interested in the ride and want to keep it."

Your heart flutters but a part of you is still in disbelief, "Really?

"Yes," he eagerly answers.

You immediately kiss him out of happiness, long and lingering until your lungs burn from running out of oxygen.

"Since you've shown tremendous enthusiasm towards the ride," you say as you keep his head turned to you.

"Yeah?"

"I offer you a second test drive," you say with a wink and seductive smile.

"Oh?" His eyes suddenly turn wide and bright, "when?"

"Right now."

"Now?" He asks with a mix of enthusiasm and concern.

You softly laugh and nod, "Yes."

Changbin props a hand under his head and looks at you with a rather intrigued mind, "Well, I've been meaning to try some riding techniques anyway."

-

Support my blog by kindly reblog, comment or tip me on my ko-fi!

@svintsandghosts @abiaswreck @ppiri-bahng @drhsthl @idkluvutellme @biribarabiribbaem @skz-streamer @biancaness @hanjisunginc @elizalabs3 @laylasbunbunny @kpopformylife @caitlyn98s @hann1bee @mamieishere @is2cb97 @marvelous-llama @bluenights1899 @sherryblossom @toplinehyunjin @hanjisbeloved @yourmomscuntis2tighy @sunnyseungup @skz4lifer @stellasays45 @severeanxietyissues @avyskai @imseungminsgf @silentreadersthings @army-stay-noel @rylea08 @simeonswhore @jebetwo @yubinism @devilsmatches @septicrebel @rairacha @cutiespaghetti @ven-fic-recs @hyunjiinnnn @lostgirlinthewoodss @schniti-is-in-the-house @jisunglyricist

[uluvjay]

Hiiii

I absolutelyfucking love your Max Verstappen x innocent Horner! reader fic so please m here for another

What if reader had a purity ring and after they do it he slides it off her finger and makes it a necklace for himself. Horner would be mad. But glad that it was him than anyone else

Sending positive vibes

Max Verstappen x Horner daughter!

Warnings?; mentions to sex, cursing, kissing, probably some errors

Au masterlist!

“Darling where’s your ring?” You father asks picking up your hand to analyze the tanned finger with a pale line showcasing where the small band usually sits.

“My ring?” You question looking down the your hand as well.

“Shit, where’s my ring?” You panic trying to think about where it could have gone.

“Why would you take it off? Have you been seeing someone?” He questions you, bright eyes searching your face for answers to his questions.

“Of course not” you lie straight through your teeth, you had been seeming someone but your father didn’t need to know that it was his star driver that was fucking you silly every night.

“Then what happened to it?”

The question has you thinking back to the night before, Max had been teasing you about it stating there was no reason for you to keep the purity ring on when he’d already defiled you multiple times.

Your chest heaved up and down as you tried to catch your breath after coming down from yet another orgasm. Max had laid beside you, one of his large hands holding your left hand in it as he spun the small golden band around.

“Why do you still wear this?” He questioned quietly.

“What do you mean?”

“Well it signifies purity right? Like you were supposed to wear it till marriage and when you lost your virginity?” He continued

“Yeah so?”

“So? Schat I took your virginity a long time ago, your far from pure now” he laughed looking at you with bright eyes.

A bright blush took over your cheeks at his words but part of you was to tired to get into the full details about why you chose to still wear it and just settled with a simple “It was a gift from my father and he’d lose his mind if he saw me without it” before sleep overtook and you were out cold while cuddled into Max’s side.

However what you didn’t see or feel was max slipping the delicate band off your finger and onto his chain that rested on the nightstand next to him.

You thought back to this morning and how you over slept leaving you with little time to get dressed and be at the track in time for qualifying, the busy morning not allowing you to notice your missing ring.

“I-i’m not sure, I guess I took it off before bed?” You stated but it sounded more like a question.

Your father opened his mouth to speak but he was cut off by the sight of Max’s car being brought back into the garage not having realized qualifying had ended and Max has once again securing pole position.

You watched as the Dutchman exited the car, pulling off his helmet and black balaclava revealing his messy and damp locks.

His eyes met yours and he shot you a sneaky wink before making way to your father for a small hug and congratulations.

You blushed at the closeness of his large body beside yours, watching as he undid the Velcro of his racing suit and pulled it down to hang around his waist.

However once his dark fireproof was revealed you couldn’t help but notice the outline of something underneath.

The imprint of his chain was there as it should be however you saw something attached to it but before you could connect the dots, the voice of your stepmother cut you off.

“Max did you get a charm for your chain?” Geri questioned causing all eyes to turn to the blonde man; including your fathers.

“Oh yes, beautiful isn’t it?” He smirked as he pulled the chain from underneath his top.

You felt the world stop as you saw your ring resting on the chain, the ring you had just told your father that you couldn’t place, the ring that was meant to signify purity, the ring that should not have been around Max Verstappen’s neck.

Christians eyes shot from the band hanging around the chain to your face that was now covered by shaky hands and the blank and unbothered face of his star driver.

“My office now. Both of you.” He demanded

Shutting the door behind himself Christian paced back and forth, he wasn’t sure what exactly it was that he was feeling.

Anger? Check, confusion? Check, shock? Double check.

“What the hell is going on between you two? And why in the fuck does max have your ring around a chain?” He asked, hands taking place on his hips.

“I-uh, we” you started but the man beside you cut you off.

“We’ve been seeing each other for awhile now, just a little under a year” max spoke in a soft tone.

“I’m sorry a year?” Your father exclaimed at the confession.

“Yes” you and max both answered at the same time.

“And I can assume you were the one to deflower my child?”

“Dad!”

“No you don’t get to ‘dad’ me right now young lady, answer the question max”

“Uh yes” max blushed at Christian’s words.

“God, fuck at least it was Max and not some college guy” he spoke in relief.

“So your okay with us being together?” You asked quietly, unconsciously moving closer to Max.

“I am but no snogging or anything gross around me” he shivered at the thought.

“I promise, thank you” you smiled as you made your way to him and pulled him into a hug.

“As long as you’re happy, I’m happy darling” he replied as he placed a sweet kiss to your head.

With a sweet smile you made your way back towards max, taking a hand in his and pulling him out of the room.

But before you could fully exit your father’s voice stopped max in his tracks.

“Take care of my little girl max!”

“Always sir” he smiled at his boss before following behind your bouncing frame, a content smile on his face at the feeling of your hand in his and the sight of your pretty bow he’d gotten that sat perfectly in your hair.

Finally making it into his drivers room he pulled you in for a breathtaking kiss, the feeling of his warm lips so familiar and comforting.

His hands sank down to rest on your ass while yours slipped into his still damp hair, tugging on it when he slipped his tongue into your mouth-immediately taking dominance.

Pulling away for air his face held a smirk at the sight of your already blown out eyes and flushed face.

“I love you” he spoke running a finger over your cheek.

“I love you to” you smiled, pulling the blonde back down for another hot kiss.

-

[mokulule]

Take Out for Dummies - part 1

Ship: Dead on Main

“Excuse me?” Jason asked in disbelief.

“How would you describe your ideal date?” the man repeated the question calmly as if he hadn’t snuck up on Red Hood on a rooftop in the middle of the night and didn’t have two guns pointed at him by said surprised vigilante.

Jason had no idea what to think, it was absurd. Only one thing made the smallest bit of sense. After all some reporters would do anything for a story.

“Is this an interview for a gossip magazine?”

The man blinked. “No, this is for personal use only.”

Okay. That was even weirder. With that thought he holstered his guns, grabbed his grapple instead and jumped off the building. He could move his patrol elsewhere for tonight.

Oo o oO

It had been a few days, the strange encounter forgotten about as he’d quickly come across a shipment of unsanctioned drugs entering his territory; Black Mask was making moves towards Crime Alley again. Red Hood had to nip that bullshit in the bud. Just because he was more vigilante than crime lord these days didn’t mean he’d gone soft.

So, Jason had forgotten about the strange man on the rooftop and was wholly unprepared when once again he was standing on a rooftop taking a small break in his patrol and someone spoke:

“So I assume dinner is out what with the whole helmet deal, but what about chocolate?”Jason spun around heart in this throat, guns pointing towards the direction of the voice. It took a moment for him to even find him. This time he was sitting on top on the slanted roof of the stairwell.

“What the-“

“A box of chocolate could be enjoyed later, would that be a suitable gift?”

“What is wrong with you?”

“Too many things to remember off the top of my head.” The man jumped down and walked towards Jason, once more showing his absolute disregard for the guns pointing at him.

“Do you have a death wish?”

That for some reason brought a smile to his face.

Somehow, Jason was the one taking a step back despite being the one holding the guns. That at least stopped the man’s advance and he raised his hands in surrender.

“Sorry man, I guess this whole showing up on a rooftop in the dark is kinda creepy.” He scratched the back of his head sheepishly. “It’s just with you being you, I don’t know where else to catch you.”

Jason felt an incoming headache, and he was feeling increasingly silly pointing his guns at the man when he didn’t react to them at all.

“How about you explain who you are and what you want?”

“Oh!” He slapped his forehead as if he couldn’t believe he’d forgotten. “I’m Danny, and I’ve been hired to take you out.” He smiled brightly.

Jason stared in disbelief. Who in their right mind just announced they’d been hired to kill someone, to the person they intended to-

No…

It couldn’t be…

He’d been asking about dates and chocolate. He couldn’t possibly have misunderstood take out Red Hood as take out Red Hood on a date. Nobody would be that stupid…

“Why would someone hire you to take me out on a date?”

Danny, if that was his real name, shrugged. “Maybe they thought you were stressed and needed a nice evening? I don’t know. I don’t ask questions. I just do odd jobs for money, keeps the lights on, you know?”

Jason didn’t respond. He couldn’t believe this.

“And like this job pays extremely well for some reason, so like I’d like to do a good job of it hence the questions?”

Of course it payed extremely well, it was meant to be a freaking hit! Still could be of course, but then it was the oddest way to go about it that Jason had ever experienced and he’d taken out quite a few would-be assassins in his time.

Danny’s face fell at Jason’s continued non-responsiveness. He sighed. Then brought out a notepad and scribbled something down, before ripping off the paper and holding it out to Jason.

“Look,” he said, when Jason made no move to take the paper and still just kept his guns trained on him, “here’s my number if you change your mind. If you haven’t called back in three days, I’ll return my advance and tell them I can’t do it - no matter how sad I’ll be to see that money go.” He looked pained at the admission, but then looked back up at Red Hood with determination.

“Still please reconsider, Mr Hood, I promise I’ll show you a good time if you agree to a date.”He looked expectantly from his hand with the paper to Jason’s helmet. Jason sighed. Holstering his right hand gun he took the paper. It was indeed a phone number, above the number it said Danny with a little smiley face drawn after the name.

Danny’s face brightened into a smile.

“Have a good night then Mr. Hood, I hope to hear from you.” Danny walked backwards with a wave and promptly tripped on an empty bottle someone had left.

“Woah!” His arms windmilled and he only just saved himself from falling back and hitting his head by sheer luck as he caught himself in the sort of gravity defying pose that would win him most limbo games. He laughed sheepishly as he put a hand down and turned around to push himself back up.

“So that was embarrassing. Should look where I go, huh? Never know when you’ll be assaulted by littering…” his voice trailed off as he walked away. He threw a last wave over his shoulder before jumping onto the fire escape and beginning his climb down.

Jason was left standing on the rooftop, paper clutched in one hand, trying to comprehend the whole baffling conversation. Also there was a distinct curl of embarrassment that he’d actually felt threatened by the guy at one point.

Yeah, he wasn’t gonna unpack that. He put the paper in a pocket of his utility belt and took a running leap to the next rooftop.

Oo o oO

Jason could not believe he was actually doing this.

It was three days later. In the mean time he’d asked around his old enforcers if they heard about a guy named Danny who did “odd jobs” as he’d called it.

As it turned out, there was indeed an odd-job-Danny, sometimes just called odd-Danny, with an increasing reputation on the streets of Gotham for doing all sorts of jobs - everything from helping old ladies carry groceries home for pennies and a pat on the cheek to heavier lifting by the docks. When he asked one of the street kids about him, he was told he also helped look for lost pets for pretty rocks or whatever the kids had in their pockets at the time, and he could fix just about anything - which had to be an exaggeration, but then again the street kids weren’t prone to overly positive opinions about adults, so he’d certainly made quite an impression on them.

Yet despite a lot of people knowing about him, apparently nobody knew a last name or where he lived. It was a mystery.

All that to say that Jason was curious… and apparently doing this.

He looked down at his phone, where he’d already put in the number. His thumb hovered over the call button. He still could not believe he was doing this. If this was a trap he was apparently walking in.

With a sigh he pushed the button.

It rang three times before it connected.

“Hello?” A hesitant voice asked.

“Is this Danny?” “Who’s asking?”

“You ask me on a date and you already forgot, I’m hurt,” Jason deadpanned hoping he would catch on to it not being wise to mention Red Hood’s name on an unencrypted line.

“Oh! So is that a yes?” He piped up excitedly.

Urgh, why was it charming that that he sounded so genuinely excited?

“Yes.”

“Sweet. Did you consider my questions?”

“Nope,” Jason popped the p and found himself smirking, “gonna have to impress me all on your own.”

Danny huffed. “Have it your way. I’ll show you a good time, you’ll see. How does… Sunday afternoon work for you?”

“’s fine.”

“Meet you in front of the building we last met, at 2 pm? Also unless you wanna take the bus, maybe bring your bike? I don’t drive.”

Jason scoffed. Letting some stranger hired to kill him close to him on his bike was a recipe for disaster. Still he found himself answering:

“Sure.”

“Great! I’ll see you Sunday then.”

With those words the call ended.

Jason looked down at his phone. He couldn’t believe it. Jason, no, Red Hood had a date for this Sunday. A giddy feeling bubbled up in his chest and he couldn’t help laughing. Red Hood going on a date. It was fucking ridiculous.

Yet, he was kinda looking forward to it. -

Subscribe to the masterpost here Next

[clockwayswrites]

Minx Part 2

Minx is a placeholder name, maybe Part 1, Masterpost CW: references to drug use, allusions to past torture, grabbing

Jason had to suck in several careful breaths as he took in the wound splashed across Danny’s ribs. “No fucking John did that to you and if they did—” if they took some sort of hot poker to Danny’s side— “I’ll kill them if they did.”

Danny blinked up at the ceiling, avoiding Jason’s gaze. “So the John thing may be a cover story?”

“Fuck’n—” Jason clenched and unclenched his hands, trying to work out the urge to punch someone. It wouldn’t do any good with no target to punch. Jason had kept an eye on Danny, best as he could without being invasive, and the other seemed clean of Gotham’s shit. “What are you messed up in Danny? Is it someone’s business? Did you see something you shouldn’t on the job? Hear something?”

“No— I mean, yeah I’ve heard things, but nothing to do with this. This is,” Danny’s hand moved to cover up the mark, as if hiding it would make the problem go away. “This is just some shit from my past catching up with me. It’s nothing you need to worry about, Boss, it’s not Gotham business.”

Jason held back a growl, pushed it back into his chest. “Did it happen in Gotham?”

“No, it happened down in sunny Florida— of course it happened in Gotham.”

“Then it’s fucking Gotham business.”

“Yeah, fuck it is, you stay away from it,” Danny snapped with a smile like a bear trap. He got up and grabbed his shirt with a waver. “Dealt with it anyway. It’s done and—”

Danny froze as Jason reached out to grab his arm.

“Danny—”

“You let go of me, Hood. I don’t care who the fuck you are, you do not grab me like this. No one grabs me like this.”

Jason slowly, carefully, lowered his hand. “I’m sorry. I didn’t want you to fall over but I shouldn’t have stopped you like that.”

“You fuck’n shouldn’t have.”

“I shouldn’t have,” Jason soothed. He wasn’t good at soothing, not any more, but he would try if it would stop Danny walking out of there injured like that. “Just sit back down and let me treat the wound. I’ll stop asking questions.”

Danny sized him up, eyes sharp with the perfect winged liner. Then he sighed and sat back down.

“Thank you,” Jason murmured as he rummaged around in the well stocked first aid kit for something to treat burn wounds. “How bad is the pain.”

Danny shrugged. He had his chin on his hand and was purposefully not looking at Jason.

Guess he was still in the dog house then.

“This will help the topical pain, but I know burns hurt deep. I’d like to give you something. Have you been drinking tonight?”

“You found me outside a pub,” Danny answered dryly.

“Doesn’t mean you were drinking, Danny, I know you know how to fake it.”

Danny sighed and tilted his head to glance up at Jason. He looked tired now, like the glamor had finally worn off with the stroke of midnight.

“Yeah, I was drinking. Helps with the pain and I knew I could take those shits drunk off my fake tits.”

“Bet you could,” Jason said, allowing himself a little smirk behind his helmet. He’s seen Danny play pool before and it was a thing of wounder. “Okay, we’ll do an IV then, rehydrate you and get some pain medication in your system in one go.”

“IV?” Danny repeated, his voice small.

“It won’t hurt, I can put them in smoothly,” Jason said as he started to work on treating the wound.

“Yeah, I’m sure you’re real gently like,” there was a wobble under Danny’s bravado and twang, “but I’m not much fond of needles.”

“I’ll be here. I won’t leave you alone with it in.”

Danny snorted. “Yeah, gonna hold me the whole night so I don’t panic?”

“If that’s what will help,” Jason answered without hesitation. He could feel Danny watching him, judging him for that statement, but Jason just kept carefully working on the wound.

“Don’t be stupid, you can’t wear your helmet the whole night,” Danny said as if that would be the catch.

“Then I’ll take it off before I hold you the whole night so that you don’t panic.”

“Will you?”

“Said I would, didn’t I?”

Jason smoothed on the last of the gel.

“Yeah… okay,” Danny said with a tired sigh. “Okay, let’s try the IV.”

-

Jason sat with his back against the arm of the couch and the pillow propped there. One leg was against the back cushion and the other on the ground still. Danny, make-up washed off and dressed in a set Tim sized sweats, was tucked back against Jason’s chest.

It was easier to sit that way than take Danny staring at his face covered only in a domino and black hair spray on the white streak.

Jason gently ran an alcohol wipe over the inside of Danny’s arm.

And froze.

“Not what you think.” Danny’s voice sounded small and far away. “Hood, breathe.”

Jason sucked an unsteady breath. “What?”

“I said it’s not what you think. I’m not using. I was… sickly, when I was a teen. It’s— that’s why I don’t like IVs and needles and stuff.”

“Promise?”

“And cross my heart,” Danny said, going through the motion. “Girl Scout’s honor.”

Jason barked out a laugh that was still a little too sharp. “Yeah and I was a Boy Scout.”

“I don’t you, you do a lot of community service,” Danny said, draping his head back over Jason’s shoulder.

“Yeah, well, I work with different birds than eagles.”

Danny’s nose scrunched up.

Jason liked it better when he could see Danny’s pale freckles.

“Eagle Scouts are the highest level of Boy Scouts,” Jason explained.

“Why the fuck do you even know that?”

“I know a lot of shit,” Jason said.

Danny flinched at the pinch of the needle, but Jason had a good grip on Danny’s arm and was able to get the IV in fully. Jason soothed his thumb over it after he taped the IV down.

“There you are.”

“Don’t leave.”

“I won’t,” Jason promised. “I’m right here.”

[adelheidvonschicksal]

hii i have a request for megumi x reader where he is unaware of readers attraction to him and he is doesn’t realise the effect of when he does something like scratch his neck and his shirt lifts and it happens one too many times until she admits that he’s pretty which makes him all flustered😭 can be sfw or nsfw

Staring Problem

Five times Megumi caught you staring at him + the one time you caught him staring at you

Notes: I got carried away whoops. Flustered Megs is my fav followed by feral. (I actually had another scenario like this for Christmas except the Reader was doing it on purpose rofl; this one is just a bit ditzy). Thanks for the request. It was fun! Thank you @avidbroswer and another friend for beta reading!

Relationship: Megumi x Fem!Reader

Tags: Fluff, humor, mild sexual context but overall SFW (i.e. no sex), 5000 words

The first time Megumi notices you staring at him is after the baseball game with the Kyoto students.

The game was a big win for your group. Everyone was loudly cheering and celebrating your victory over your sister school – aside from him. It’s not that he wasn’t pleased with the victory. Who wouldn’t be? The cheering and high-fiving wasn’t his scene though. The most celebration he required was simply brushing his hand through divine dog’s fur for a job well done before dismissing the creature.

Megumi walks back to the dugout, steps into the drop-off, and peels his helmet from the top of his head. The sweat accumulated in his helmet causes his hair to cling to him, forcing it down against the back of his neck and his bangs into his line of sight more than usual. He never liked what he considered too much hair on his nape; and for some reason, Gojo hated it even more. Not that he ever understood why Gojo would care about how he styled his hair. He was just weird, he guesses.

Either way, it was annoying.

Gripping his shirt collar, he brings it to his forehead to clean the moisture away, and there’s the added bonus of the breeze cooling off his stomach as his shirt untucks from his uniform pants. He finishes off his grooming with a quick stroke of his fingers up through his bangs before reaching for his water bottle.

It isn’t until he’s finished drinking and wiping away the small bead of water that escapes his mouth to cascade down his pointed jaw with the back of his wrist that he catches the sudden sensation of someone looking at him.

He glances behind him, scanning the crowd of cheerful faces, and he catches your gaze pinning him down. There’s no mistake you’re watching him, but he isn’t sure why you have that clouded, half-lidded stare locked on him like a homing gun.

It makes him antsy even when your neutral lips turn into a gentle smile, and you move to congratulate Itadori on his victory-winning home run.  

The next time he catches you, you’re at the café with the other first years, pouring over schoolbooks together. He doesn’t often study with the others outside of class; but out of everyone in the school, he has the best head on his shoulders academically so he can’t really refuse when the three of you earnestly ask for his help for once.

As he draws one leg over the other, Megumi shifts his weight to sit more comfortably in his chair. He rests his chin against his palm, allowing his lengthy fingers to massage the increasingly growing migraine from his throbbing temple while his elbow braces against the table to support the position. His other hand tightens around the handle of his mug and brings it to his mouth. The drink – coffee, black, always – is the only thing stopping his mind from going numb at reviewing the same information he already knows as Nobara struggles to read the chart on this particular page.

“Toos-day.”

“Tuesday.”

“When-is-day.”

“Wednesday,” Megumi corrects.

Stomping onto her feet, her hands slam on the table causing it to shake. Megumi holds his drink closer to his chest to avoid it spilling over as she growls out. “This is so stupid! Why do we need to know English anyway? Why couldn’t it be something like French? Then, we could at least hit up Paris Fashion Week.” She pulls at her hair in frustration, stopping only when you mention that she’ll cause split ends. Sighing, she releases her tension and falls back in her chair. "I need a break."

On that, you're all in agreement.

Taking the opportunity to ease his head, Megumi blows away the steam swirling from his coffee. He closes his eyes if only for a moment to bask in the roast. The liquid is hot and smooth on his tongue, a welcome sensation after walking through the cool evening to get here. It’s enough to earn a small sigh of approval.  

When he opens his eyes, he sees that you’re nursing your own drink by pinching your straw between your lips. However, your eyes are on him 'or maybe the mug near his mouth?' he thinks. Regardless, you’re doing it attentively with an affectionate glint like you were smiling on the inside. It makes his eye twitch.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

You flinch like you’re snapping out a hypnotic trance. Slowly, a meek smile forms as you innocently tilt your head and place down your drink. “I was?”

“You were," Itadori corroborates. "You do it a lot actually," Itadori adds between bites of his sandwich. The fact is something Megumi has begun to notice recently as well. 

Noticing everyone looking at you, your eyes widen slightly before you force them back down to look at your textbook. You slide your hands from the table and rest them in your lap. “I must’ve zoned out,” you say apologetically.

Megumi scoffs.

“If you’re going to ask me to help you study, you could at least pay attention.” Megumi sighs at the growing remorse on your face. “Forget it,” he dismisses and decides to go back to his coffee, but the peace doesn’t last long as he catches that same gaze from you a minute later.

Your eyebrows push in together as you narrow your eyes briefly in thought, and he can’t help but wonder what’s going on in your mind as you cock your head to the side again.

“Ne, Fushiguro,” you begin hesitantly and quietly. He doesn’t think he would’ve noticed you speaking to him with how soft your voice was had he not already been looking at you. “Did anyone ever tell you that your voice is kinda husky in English?”

Suddenly, his face is hot along with his tongue as he inadvertently chokes on his drink while the other two at the table burst out laughing, drowning out your frantic mutterings as you collapse your face into your palms.

It seems to be a cycle now. Megumi would be going about his day when he would occasionally (usually twice a day) get this sensation of being watched. Sure enough, he could find you following him with your eyes. There isn’t any anger when you’re doing it so he’s fairly sure that you’re not cornering him with your sight out of aggression, but he couldn’t think of another reason his presence would be of interest to you.

Megumi tried to ask Gojo the reason why someone might stare at him. When he explained that you were the one doing it, the older man only laughed at his predicament. Megumi didn’t know why he expected him to be any help in the first place anyway.

Maki was even less help (she seemed reluctant even), but at least she didn't look at him like he was an idiot like Nobara. Finally, there was Itadori, who only caused him more difficulty.

(“Are you sure she doesn’t just LIKE you?” Itadori suggested.

Megumi could only roll his eyes then. It always came back to that with him. “Look, if you’re not going to take this seriously—“

”I am!”)

Megumi almost entertained it until he thought ‘what reason would she like me?’ After all, you didn’t know each other that well. There was no explanation available so it had to be something else.

Out of everyone, he decides to take Maki’s advice that it's best to get the answer from the source.

However, whenever he asks what’s the problem, you never seem to give him a direct answer, explaining away your strange…habit. Even stranger was that he was starting to become accustomed to it, slowly losing the annoyance he held for it early on in your relationship – or maybe he was getting better at ignoring it.

Nonetheless, it would still be nice to have an explanation.

When he sees you early at breakfast, and you undoubtedly see him early at breakfast, he finally decides to broach the topic. He sits himself and his plate at your table, and he doesn’t give you the time to make excuses when he knows for certain you were staring at him.

“Alright. Enough already. What's the deal?"

“Hmm?”

“The staring,” he reiterates.

Your mouth opens like you want to say something but throughout the many times he’s confronted you on your manners, not once have you ever given him a straightforward answer.

“Don’t try to give an excuse. You were definitely watching me.”

As the small silence extends in the air so does the embarrassment on your face until it finally fades away along with your resolve. “Okay, this time I was,” you admit very specifically.

“Why?”

“There’s not really a reason," you explain while looking anywhere but directly at him, and it's an easy tell to sense that you're lying.

Megumi narrows his eyes at you. 

“For some reason, I feel like that's not the case."

There has to be some reason your attention is on him so much. He’d at least like to know if it was something he did to you.

“It’s nothing bad really,” you confess, avoiding eye contact with him while your fingers fidget. “Do…you want me to stop?”

Megumi would very much like to say he wants you to stop but somehow he doesn’t think he would be able to force you not to look at him. “I’d prefer it.”

“No problem,” you say and purse your lips tightly. “But…I probably wouldn’t be able to help it every now and then,” you warn him, which piques his curiosity even more.

“What does that mean?”

“Oh, that’s because, uhm—to tell you the truth,“ you pause, and he wants to prod more from you but you’re quick to excuse yourself, leaving him with two weeks free from your staring. Or, at least you attempted for that long.

As he accepts that you're not going to stop, it comes to him that he doesn't really care anymore in the following months. It's just how you are, he figures sentimentally. It would feel weird if you stopped at this point. However, it leads to you catching him off guard too often, especially in moments like these.

The two of you were assigned to a mission to dispatch some low-level curses together. It was surprisingly easier than what the mission report suggested, not that he would complain about an easy mission.

Nue is behind him as he requests a ride back to the school over the phone. The bird shikigami is being needier than usual, nudging at the width of Megumi’s back with his head causing Megumi’s voice to be unsteady as the thick plate of Nue’s mask braces between his shoulder blades.

“Cut it out,” he scolds gently, reaching his free hand back to briefly ruffle at random mounds of feathers.

There’s a soft crooning in his ear, begging for attention. He isn’t used to Nue being this affectionate, not like his divine dogs. As he hangs up the call, Nue starts to stroke his head against his side again.

Amused, he huffs softly - as close to a laugh as anyone has ever heard from the taciturn teen – and raises his arm to let the bird cradle better against his side. The gentle cuddling from the shikigami is enough to lighten his mood as auburn feathers tickle against his fingers and coax the smallest smile from him.

“Alright. Alright. That’s enough,” he says affectionately before returning to the serious matters at hand. “We need to regroup with our partner. Can you go scout for her?” Megumi asks; but to his surprise, Nue flutters his wings and twists his head around to stare directly to the side of him…at you, a few feet away.

Megumi didn’t know how long you’d been standing there, watching him. He thinks any time was probably too long in this situation. (He also thinks he might demand you start wearing a bell when you go on missions together.)

With a goofy smile, you walk towards him, and his heart is pounding, anticipating what you could possibly be about to say as you shorten the distance between the two of you, so close that an outreached arm would be enough to close it. The childishly smug look on your face makes his cheeks burn as you gently begin to trace the outline on Nue’s faceplate and press your head against the top of Nue’s.

“Before you say anything, I wasn’t watching you. I was admiring Nue.”

Megumi scoffs. He can’t say he isn’t amused that out of all things to say, you start with that. As if it isn’t obvious by now that he knows that you’re failing hard to hide your bad habit – for whatever reason you have it. And even more amusing was the way your face would highlight in embarrassment as you tried to hide the fact.

“Convenient story.”

“It’s the truth. Isn’t that right, Nue? You’re so handsome that I can’t tear my eyes away,” you praise, cuddling the owl until he ruffles his feathers and chitters, happily letting you drown him in attention.

And for the first time, he finds himself watching you instead with your face buried against his shikigami, and Nue is equally happy for your touch. It’s a sweet scene as Megumi concludes where Nue might have started to learn these overly affectionate tendencies. That is until you turn your head, naturally searching for his presence. When you meet his gaze, you smile warmly at him causing heat to crawl up the back of his neck and his heart to jump in his throat. With your focus on him this way, he is overwhelmed by a new sensation that he isn’t sure why he’s feeling in the first place. It’s not like he was unused to you looking in his direction.

Astonished by the moment, you point out, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you smile before.”

Confused, Megumi blinks at you. Had he been smiling?

Your expression softens. “It suits you.”

Surprised by your tender observation, he shifts his head away, hiding his rapidly reddening cheeks from you.

“Let’s head to the meeting point,” he manages, thanking whoever above that he was able to keep his voice steady at least.

One day, you decided to stop at the café together again. This time it’s only the two of you since the others are still out on their own duo mission. Even with that being the case, he would still have accepted your invitation regardless of the availability status of your other two friends. He isn’t really sure when he started to be okay being alone with you, and he also isn’t sure when you began to get comfortable with him as well. But he finds he doesn't mind either of those anymore.  

“You’re staring,” he points out flatly, not bothering to look up from his book to confirm his accusation. He knows it’s true. “What is it this time?”

There’s a laugh from you, drawing his attention up. “Nothing.”

Normally, he would let you get away with that answer nowadays; but today, Megumi is determined to finally get to the bottom of whatever is up with you and him. 

“Nothing?” he questions again skeptically. You nod, and he holds his gaze on you, pointedly, securely, determined to not even blink as he watches your face.

You frown. “Why are you doing that?”

“Doing what?” he asks, one long blink to reset himself before firmly keeping royal blue eyes locked on you once more.

“That,” you say, motioning to all of him.

“I’m not doing anything.”

“Uh-huh."

There’s a small beat of quiet as you return your focus to your book, but you look up every so often (probably to check if he's stopped eye-ing you down, which he doesn't). Holding an arm across your chest to scratch at the other, you squirm. As awful as it is, he feels a bit smug at the way you curve in and start to grow self-conscious.

“This is weird.”

“It is,” he agrees bluntly causing you to pout. He notes how funny it is to finally see the tables turned between the two of you and to have you overly aware of his watch. Even if he doesn’t get his answer, teasing you like this and eliciting that cute reaction is strangely worth it.

“How long are you going to do that?”

Megumi crosses his arms and leans back in his chair, never letting you leave his vision. He shrugs. “Depends. Are you going to tell me?”

You scowl but manage to hold your resolve for the better half of five minutes.

“Okay, I get it. I’ll stop,” you say, but he isn’t satisfied with that answer. Choosing to keep his rebellious challenge against you, he leans in closer and keeps up the wall until you finally start to crack under the pressure. “Well…it’s nothing really.”

“Then, tell me.”

“It’s,” you begin then pause.

He hunches in closer as if to keep your secret.

“It’s just that…” he can see you start to fidget in your chair, and for some reason, he feels his own anticipation growing. “You have a really pretty way about you.”

That was not the answer he was expecting.

“Huh? I have…a pretty way about me?” he repeats in disbelief, his face scrunching. “You must be joking.”

“I’m serious,” you tell him. “It’s something in the way you move, it makes it hard to concentrate.”

Megumi could only guess what kind of answer you would have but it wasn’t one that instantly makes his temperature skyrocket and causes his heart to start swelling against his ribcage, spreading the feeling of liquid butterflies through his veins.

“That's the only reason,” you repeat, noticing the way he seemed to completely stop functioning. “I’m not making you uncomfortable, am I?”

He uncrosses his arms, trying to sputter out a coherent sentence but his mind wouldn’t supply him with one as he fights to keep his own blushing down. “No. I’m not—it’s not that I’m—I just didn’t know what it was about—I—pretty?” he stammers, completely bewildered to the point he thinks his voice might crack for the first time in years. 

You nod, growing more embarrassed. “I mean in a masculine way! Like your eyes, your hands, your voice, and the way your shirt drapes your shoulders. Ah! Basically…you’re really handsome,” you finish quickly when you realize you are rambling stupidly, and you squeeze onto the edge of your chair to calm yourself.

It’s so quiet between the two of you that you could possibly hear one of the cheap plastic straws from the front counter drop.

“Fushiguro-kun?” you ask bashfully.

He focuses his attention on the passerby's walking by the window as he shifts and squeezes at his uniform collar, attempting desperately to hide a fraction of his burning face behind the dark blue fabric. You…were simply attracted to him for some reason he would probably never understand (why in the world would you think any of that about him is attractive?) all this time.

“Let’s pretend this conversation never happened,” he tells you frantically.

Nodding, you confirm. “Yeah! That’s a good idea.”

For once, you’re not staring at him yet Megumi still feels like he can’t breathe despite the rapid rising and falling of his chest showing that he was very well breathing. As his face continues to burn and his stomach churns with this unfamiliarly pleasant and confusing emotion, he wishes his shadow would open and swallow him whole. Forever, perhaps.

It isn’t until later that night when his mind is heavy with thoughts of you, he admits to himself that he doesn’t exactly hate your reason.

Bonus

Before you enrolled in this school, your clan already outlined your priorities in life. Study, learn, become the best sorcerer you can for the benefit of the clan and your own survival. There isn’t time for things like friendship and even less for love, your family taught you, at least not until you’re older.

You agreed with that sentiment, going through your younger teen years not ever having a crush on someone or a strong preoccupation with romance. However, this school is proving that you still very much feel attraction.

Specifically for your withdrawn classmate.

Something about him was just so pretty. You’re not sure if it was the way his hair falls ever so neatly over his forehead before turning back into spiked peaks, or how deep blue his eyes are especially when shadowed by gorgeous rows of midnight eyelashes, or the way he carried himself like the stoic protagonists in the love comics your friends were obsessed with last year.

Maybe it was the entire package.

At the time you first started to notice him, you didn’t have the answer pieced together yet. Seeing that you also hadn’t learned anything proper about romance and attraction from your clan let alone flirting, the only thing you could do was stare at him as you failed to decipher this newfound infatuation that made your heart stutter and your lower body hot with tingles similar to the sensation of ginger spice on your tongue.

‘Is this that puberty thing they were talking about in health class all those years back,’ you wondered. They did say it could happen late, but this late? You weren’t sure, but you did like looking at him. That much was certain.

So, you continued to do so.

It's not like you were exactly going against what your clan told you.

After all, your clan would always say it’s important to be aware of your surroundings as a sorcerer, remember every little detail, and save it to memory, that could be the difference between death and victory in a battle.

Shouldn’t you take that advice to heart when it comes to your teammates as well? After all, these are the people you will be relying on while working. It’s important to learn their mannerisms.

Another thing your clan told you was that hands are an important thing to watch. Any sorcerers’ hands were a danger from Itadori’s hand-to-hand combat style, Gojo-sensei’s domain expansion, and Fushiguro’s entire technique.

His hands were always coming together to summon shadows, and he talked and explained things frequently with them to the point it became a distraction for you.

You also like the way his dominant hand always seems to climb up and curve around the back of his neck in the mornings as he stretches out the tightness from a cramped sleep. You would watch as he glosses each finger across his nape and shoulder, wondering what it would be like to have them coming across your own and to have fingers that could expertly craft signs tickling at your skin.  Would you shudder or would it tickle or would it feel like nothing?  Fortunately, you always resist the shaking urge to glide your own hand across your collar to find the answer.

It isn’t always the way his palm brushes his neck that entirely gets you but the way his sweatshirt rises, barely revealing a ring of beige skin that was normally hidden away under layers of comfortable cotton. It not only exposes him to the stagnant air of the school building but to your wandering eyes that had a bad problem of not being able to remain where they should be.

Objectively speaking, you were aware from day one that Itadori was strong and well-built under his clothes, but you didn’t realize the same could be said for Megumi until you saw the slip of his lower abdominal and the constellation of pale brown freckles hidden in the groove of his hip.

By the time your attention would return to his hands, you would be locked on the gentle way his knuckle catches the edge of his shirt's neckline. It was unknowing to him during those times that the action was teasing you by causing the fabric to lightly shift and expose the crux of his collarbone. 

Then, you didn’t even want to get started on his face or eyes. The same ones that are gorgeously blue even when stormy with annoyance or softened with confusion every time he would catch you.

From your point of view, you admit that both looks were handsome on his face. However, you’re starting to realize from your last interaction that maybe you were being a tad…invasive.  You refused to say creepy without a pillow to scream into.

So, you convince yourself to stop staring whenever you notice your eyes drifting to him. Only small peeks for his comfort unless you were talking to him or he to you. In hindsight, you think you are better at talking to him without embarrassing yourself all the time at least.

Your new resolve would be tested today as you prepare to head to the training field for another day of close combat drills with your upperclassmen. You dress in layers, wearing a light jacket and thigh socks with your shorts, fully intending to ditch both once it heats up a little more in the afternoon.

When you make it to the practice field, you notice two things: that Megumi is there (which you swear you only took note of for two seconds) and that you’re the last to arrive, meaning that you’re going to be the first put through the wringer with Maki-senpai.

The only positive is that you manage to last an extra round against her more than usual, and you’re left with only an aching butt as you hit the ground. You hiss and rub your wounded rear before dusting the ripped-up blades of grass from your lap. Noticing your socks bunched against your ankles, you click your tongue. Bending your legs, you start to shuffle one back up the length of your calf then your thigh. You unfurl it as high as you can until there’s only a small circumference of skin left between your shorts and the top of your sock. Satisfied, you start to repeat the process with your other leg before Maki taps your hip with her staff.

“Megumi is staring at you,” she grunts in a quiet warning, and you blink at her before trying to glance back over to the first row of bleachers. “Not too obvious.”

You force your gaze back to her, using the opportunity to catch Megumi in your periphery. Sure enough, you could barely make him out looking in your direction while Itadori talked to him. That was weird. You don't think you can recall a time where he was watching you unless you did it first. ‘He was probably watching me train,’ you begin to decide.

Before you can register what's going on completely, Maki calls out dryly, "Hey, Megumi, pictures last longer!” 

Barely from this distance, you can see his head snap back and a scowl glowering on his face as he glares at her direction. “What are you talking about?”

“So, you want to play that way,” she mumbles and singles him out with a point of her staff and a crooked smile. “In that case, I’ll explain while we train!”

Megumi looks more annoyed than you have seen him in the last few days as he declares from the bleachers that he’s training with Panda instead as soon as he’s done with Nobara.

“That guy,” Maki grumbles quietly, slapping her staff back against her shoulder and layering a hand on her hip. “He makes things so difficult for everyone, including himself. I guess I’ll have to have a chat with him later.”

"Huh?" you huff as she twists her waist to look at you.

“Well, I can’t exactly have my darling little relative turning out like the rest of those perverts from the clan, after all,” she explains vaguely but instead of anger, there’s a rare hint of sarcastic amusement in her words. Suddenly, it starts to dawn on you what Maki means as your fingers brush the side of your inner thigh, and your throat starts to tighten with something akin to anxiety, and you want desperately to bury your face in your hands as you realize that he was looking at your legs. That he must like your legs…

The thought makes your heart pound, and something pulses inside you with what feels like anticipation as you catch his attention on you again. You were used to lusting after him but it was a different feeling to experience it in reverse – mutually even.

Is this what it felt like? Have you ever made him feel like this by watching him?

You didn’t know what to do.

“What do I do?”

She gives an incredulous look. “Call him out naturally, especially if it bothers you,” she replies. "But that isn't what you want, right?"

You frown, not entirely sure yourself. It didn’t bother you necessarily. If anything, you like his attention on you. It makes your body otherworldly hot when he gives it to you. Pulling your knees to your chest, you think back to what someone in one of those television dramas would do in this situation. It takes some courage, but you find your answer.

You wink at him.

It elicits an immediate response that involves him shoving his hands in his pockets and scrambling to break eye contact; so much that you can see Itadori twisting towards him with concern.

“Hah, that was a good one." Maki lets out a short and harsh snort. "Wait until I tell Panda.”

Smiling proudly, you can’t resist staring at the flush that he has to stand and stalk off to the other side of the field closer to Inumaki and Panda to hide. Out of all the attractive things about him, you think that might top your list; and truthfully, you wanted to see it again.

[obsessed-with-stardew]

After His Show

After seeing the band play a gig in the city, you ride back to town on Seb’s motorcycle. But, you get a little distracted along the way…

Sebastian xF!Reader, Sebastian xAFAB!Reader

Rating: Mature/Explicit

Tw: nsfw, mdni, smut, p in v sex, unprotected sex, mentions of cigarettes, pet names, semi-public sex, oral male receiving

AN: This fic can be read as a follow up to Under His Desk or as a stand alone. I have been on the motorcycle thirst trap side of the internet lately and I thought that perfectly aligned with a fic idea. I have never ridden a motorcycle so if my descriptions are inaccurate, I’m sorry :)

Wc: 4400

It was another fall day and you had just finished a harvest which meant one thing - it was time to pop into Pierre’s for some more seeds. You head down the road that leads into town trying to decide if you want to focus on artichokes or if you have enough time left in the season to plant some fairy roses. You’re so lost doing the mental calculations that you would’ve run into Sam if he hadn’t grabbed you by the arms.

“Look where you’re going, farmer! You could’ve made a dent in me,” he jokes, squeezing your biceps. “No, but for real you’re strong right?” 

“Uh yeah, I guess I am?” you shrug.

“Well, we could use an extra roadie for the Goblin Destroyer show tomorrow night if you’re free,” he says. “I know Seb would be really happy if you were there.” Sam winks at you.

You flush, forgetting that Sam knows you and Seb have been fooling around since he almost walked in on the two of you. If you’d only grabbed your bra before hiding under Seb’s desk this embarrassment could’ve been avoided.

“Yeah, sure I don’t have any plans for tomorrow,” you say. “It would be cool to see y’all at a real gig and not just rehearsals.”

“Sweet! Okay, we’re meeting at the bus stop at 4, see you there,” Sam calls as he heads for home.

The next day you finish your chores around the farm as quickly as you can. You may be a roadie tonight, but you’re a groupie at heart and you want to look the part. When you’re satisfied that you look somewhere between halfway decent and slightly hot, you head for the bus stop. 

As you approach, you see Seb leaving. You try to catch his eye but it’s clear his head is elsewhere. When you get to the bus stop, Abigail whistles at you.

“Damn girl, you clean up nice,” she exclaims. You hadn’t really had a chance to dress up for a night out since you moved to Pelican Town a few months ago.

“Thanks,” you laugh. “You look great too, very punk rock.”

“Dude I wear this outfit literally all the time, but thanks,” she laughs.

You help load the rest of the equipment, looking around every now and then hoping to see Seb. By the time all of the gear is loaded, Sebastian still hasn’t appeared. You see Sam lingering by the doors to the bus.

“Hey Sam, is Seb… I mean I saw him heading to town when I got here and we’re about to leave,” you trail off.

“Oh yeah, he had to help his mom with something, he said he’ll meet us there,” Sam replies.

Disappointed, you board the bus behind Sam.

The ride to the venue goes by faster than you expected, and you spend the whole time laughing and joking with Sam and Abigail. Upon arrival you jump into your role as a roadie, unloading gear off the bus with the same focus you use to plant or harvest crops. When everything is set up, you head outside for a smoke break. You’ve always smoked off and on, but since hanging around Seb the habit has admittedly gotten a bit worse.

Searching your pockets for a lighter, you come up empty. You wish Seb was there, he always has one on him. As if in answer to your prayers you hear a motorcycle nearing. Looking up, you see Seb riding towards you. You had to focus to keep your mouth from falling open. Sure you’d seen him working on the bike and that was objectively hot, but seeing him ride up on it was another thing entirely. You weren’t sure if it was the confidence he rode with, but even with his face obscured by the helmet he looked sexy.

Seb pulled the bike up right next to you. He was surprised he parked straight because he had been looking only at you since he entered the lot. Seb knew you were going to be there tonight, but damn he didn’t know you were going to look this good all dressed up in black. He knows that it’s the traditional color crew wears, but he hopes you considered his reaction as you picked out your outfit - the thought makes him blush. Those tight black jeans seem to hug every curve and your top is cut just low enough to get his heart racing. 

Sebastian pulls off his helmet and runs a hand through his dark hair. 

“Need a light?” he asks, nodding toward the unlit cig in between your fingers.

“Yeah, your timing is perfect,” you say, as Seb dismounts the motorcycle and pulls a lighter from his pocket. 

You lean forward, breathing in as he lights the tip of your cigarette. 

“Sounds like you were missing me,” he teases, plucking the cig from your fingers to take a drag.

“Missing you or just your lighter, who’s to say,” you retort.

Seb offers the cig back to you, instead of taking it, you lean forward making eye contact as you take a drag while it’s still between his fingers, lips brushing his digits. Seb’s cock twitches at your brazen flirtation and he huffs out a laugh. Damn, you really know how to get him going.

Seb grabs your hand and pulls it up to his mouth. He kisses the inside of your wrist, causing you to draw in a ragged breath.

“Well I missed you, y/n…” he whispers against your wrist. 

You can’t think beyond his admission and his breath dancing across your sensitive skin. It makes your heart race and you’re certain he can feel your pulse quicken under his soft touch.

“Are you sure you haven’t missed me too?” he teases, pulling your body flush with his. Seb’s other hand captures your chin, forcing your gaze to meet his - the cherry of your cig reflected in his blown-out pupils. 

“You can tell me, baby,” he coos. “I know how to keep a secret.”

The back door to the venue opens with a bang.

“Yo Seb, you out here?” Sam’s voice calls. “It’s time for the final soundcheck!”

“Yeah man, I’ll be there in a minute,” Seb shouts back, not taking his eyes from yours.

Without warning, he pushes you back against the wall of the building, lips locking with yours, cigarette dropped forgotten on the pavement.

His hand travels to your waistband, fingers skillfully popping the button of your jeans.

“Seb what are you doing??” you hiss. “Someone will see us!”

“Not if I’m quick,” he promises with a wink.

Undoing your zipper, his long fingers find their way to your underwear. A moan escapes your lips as he brushes over the wet cloth barely covering your pussy. Seb is quick to capture the sound with his mouth.

When you quiet he whispers in your ear, “Can’t believe how wet you are for me already sweetheart.”

Gently he runs a finger through your folds under the fabric. You gasp, struggling to remain silent. Seb plunges the finger deep into your hole, covering your mouth with his other hand to keep you from crying out. 

He pumps his finger into you a few times, just enough to make you ready to beg for more when he removes his digit from you, bringing it to his lips. Watching Seb suck your juice from his finger causes your walls to clench around nothing - you can’t get over how hot and bothered this man makes you.

“Don’t worry baby, I just wanted a taste. Let’s call it a good luck charm,” Seb chuckles. “C’mon, they’ll be wondering where we are.”

As Sebastian heads onstage for sound check you grab a drink from the bar and join the waiting crowd. You’re not in the first row but you don’t mind. Positioning yourself in front of the keyboard, you look around, shocked by the number of unfamiliar faces at the show. The second the lights go down and the band takes the stage, there’s a palpable shift in the energy. Sure you’d been to rehearsals and a couple of local shows, but seeing the guys and Abby on a stage in the city, they look like they belong up there.

Seb had played it cool in front of you, but as he walks onto the stage he can feel his hands begin to shake. Shit, this is the biggest crowd they’ve ever had. He can NOT fuck it up now. Positioning himself behind his keyboards, Seb blinks through the spotlights to the sea of faces. Well maybe not a sea, but it’s a decent-sized lake. As soon as his eyes adjust, he sees you. He’d recognize your smile and bright eyes anywhere. He’s always nervous for shows, but locking eyes with you, he lets out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. You mouth “you got this” and blow him a kiss. God you’re so cute, he thinks, shaking his head to himself as his heart swells.

Abby starts the count-off with her drumsticks and muscle memory kicks in. Seb loses himself in the music as he always does. Forgetting he’s on a stage in front of a crowd of strangers, his fingers know just where to go. As the first set ends Seb slowly comes out of his daze, guided by Sam’s voice distantly addressing the crowd.

“We are Goblin Destroyers, thanks for coming out tonight!” Sam shouts as the crowd cheers. He introduces the band, and as you hear him say “...and on the keys we have Sebastian!” a huge cheer erupts from the audience. It’s a little too big of a cheer for your liking, and you can see Seb trying to hide his flushed face behind his dark fringe. You feel a sudden surge of jealousy and mentally kick yourself for not having marked Seb’s neck with your lips and teeth before the show. You’ll have to remember that next time. 

The music starts back up and you surrender yourself to the sound. The bass thrums in your chest and your eyes are glued to Sebastian. You love watching him play. It’s as if all his worries melt away leaving just Seb and the music. It’s so hot to see him this way, totally raw - the mask he usually keeps up between himself and the world is replaced by a look of utter calm.

The only other time you’ve seen him like that is when he’s inside of you. Watching his fingers expertly fly across the keys sends a shiver down your spine as you remember where they were just an hour before. You try to keep your lust at bay and enjoy the show, but the only music you want to hear now are the sweet groans from Seb’s lips as he fucks you.

After a few more songs, the show is over and people begin filtering out of the venue. You head backstage to help pack up when a hand grabs your arm and pulls you into a dark corner. Just as you open your mouth to shout, Seb slots his lips between yours for a devastating kiss, full of tongue and teeth and the adrenaline high he still has from the gig. You pull back for breath and punch him in the arm. 

“Ow, what was that for?” he asks rubbing where you struck him.

“For making me think I was getting kidnapped,” you laugh, putting your hands around his neck. Leaning up, you whisper into his ear, “You looked really hot up there,” and you take his lobe between your teeth. Seb lets out a soft groan and cups your ass in his hands. 

“Ahem,” Abigail clears her throat. 

The two of you freeze, debating whether it’s too late to pretend you were doing something, anything more innocent than what she’s seen.

“Oh my god, chill out you two,” she scoffs, rolling her eyes. “I know you’re fucking, Sam called me as soon as he left your little sex pad.”

You burst out laughing and Seb says, “Ew, Abs don’t call my room a ‘sex pad’.”

“Whatever, will y’all just help pack up the gear?”

You turn to leave, but Seb pulls you in for another quick kiss.

“If everyone knows, I might as well show you off,” he says with a wink before walking away.

Packing up is quick work and before you know it everyone is piling into the bus.

“You want the same spot?” Abigail asks. 

“Oh um actually Seb said he’d give me a ride back….” you say. 

“Ah, I get it. You two drive safe and use protection,” She says, closing the last door on the equipment storage.

You flush and stammer, “wha- we won’t uh-”

“Oh my god wear a helmet, dumbass,” Abigail laughs, punching you lightly in the arm as she heads for the bus.

You make a final sweep of the venue to make sure nothing is left behind. Emerging into the parking lot you see Sebastian, leaning against his bike. The lone streetlight above like another spotlight, and he’s putting on a show just for you. Seb’s lips curve into a soft smile as takes a drag from his cigarette. The smoke curls up around him, obscuring all of his features except his gleaming eyes that track you as you approach. All his.

Finally alone, the desire that has built up over the course of the night threatens to overtake you right here in the parking lot. You reach for him as Seb puts an arm around your waist pulling you close. He leans down, kissing up your neck to your ear.

“Did you get all dressed up in black just for me?” he whispers, nipping at the sensitive shell of your ear. You let out a shaky breath. 

“All for you Sebby,” you sigh.

His cock hardens from both the nickname and your admission. He pulls your body flush with his. You gasp as you feel his hard length pressing against you. 

“Let's get you home sweetheart, there’s so much I want to do to you,” Sebastian growls into your ear.

Taking one last drag from his cig, he drops it to the pavement putting it out with a twist of his foot. Seb reaches behind his back and produces two helmets. He hands you the smaller one.

“I thought you only had the one helmet,” you tease. 

“Gotta keep my girl safe,” he says with a wink. 

The two of you put on the helmets, and you watch as Seb straddles the bike. Ugh, he looks so hot, something about the helmet covering his features, only his neck exposed, really gets you turned on. He starts the bike and revs the engine. Seb reaches out a hand to you and you take it, straddling the bike behind him, you wrap your arms around his stomach. He reaches back, running his hand down your thigh, giving you a quick squeeze. And then you’re off.

God, you feel so good nestled behind him. Your arms hold him in a tight hug as your thighs squeeze him. Fuck he loves your legs and with your tits pressing into his back, he’s in heaven. Seb has always loved taking his bike out, he feels so free flying down the quiet highway under the stars.

His heart swells at the trust you place in him, to keep you safe as the two of you speed through the empty streets. He hopes you’re having a good time too when he feels you lean back and let out a whoop into the night air. Seb laughs and does the same. When he’s with you, it’s like gravity’s endless weight is lifted and he can dream again. You must sense this because you squeeze him tighter for a moment. 

Something no one ever told you about riding a motorcycle is that it’s basically one giant vibrating seat. And with your arms around the man you’re planning to fuck the second this ride is over, the sensation is making you extremely horny. You can feel the wetness pooling between your legs and you try to adjust your position to get the vibration right where you want it. Seb must think you’re uncomfortable because the moment you shift his hand reaches back to squeeze your thigh again.

His worry for you makes you determined to let him know just how good you feel. You start to move one hand, running it down his stomach. Seb returns his hand to the handlebar, thinking your touch is to reassure him, but you aren’t done. Your fingers drift downward, searching and finding. His cock stiffens and his hands clench the handles. You give him a rough squeeze through his jeans and he lets out a groan barely audible through the sound of the wind. You tug on his length as you rock your hips on the seat.

Closing your eyes you begin a slow pace of jacking him off over his jeans and grinding your pussy into the vibrations. You’re so lost in seeking your pleasure that you don’t notice Seb has turned off the highway until the motor cuts off. You whine at the lack of vibration, not fully comprehending what’s happening until Seb pulls you off the bike. His helmet is still on but his visor is open. You can see the desire flashing in his eyes. 

“My needy girl, couldn’t wait to finish the ride before needing my cock,” he growls. 

“I- I didn’t mean to…” you whimper as Seb pulls off his helmet, and runs his hand through his hair. 

“What am I gonna do with you,” he huffs out a laugh, shaking his head.

Setting down the helmet, Seb circles the bike. You take off your helmet, shaking out your hair. He drinks in the sight of you, the moonlight shining off your hair, the desperate look in your eyes, the way your black clothes cling to you and how he wants to peel them off. He pauses in front of you, hand palming his now aching erection. Your gaze is glued to that hand, taunting you.

Seb undoes his belt buckle, pops the button on his jeans and slowly pulls down the zipper. Watching you squirm with every small movement, he could do this for hours, basking in your hungry gaze knowing that you want him just as much as he wants you. But he won’t keep you waiting. He eases his cock out, hissing as the cool night air trails over his hot length. 

“On your knees baby.” 

You oblige instantly, he chuckles at your obedience. 

“That’s a good girl,” he growls. 

He shudders as you grab him, pressing a light kiss to his tip before you flick your tongue along the slit dripping with precum. And when your warm, wet mouth wraps around his length he has to stop himself from thrusting into the back of your throat. You take your time, sucking with your mouth and pumping with your hand until he can’t take it anymore.

He grabs a fistful of your hair and rocks his hips forward. Forcing his cock to hit the back of your throat. The feeling of your tongue on the underside and the light scrape of your teeth on top force out a groan from deep within his chest. His eyes lock on yours, so full of tears just waiting to spill out. He thrusts a few more times, relishing in the feeling of his balls hitting your chin. When your throat squeezes him as you choke on his cock, he swears if he died right now at least he’d die happy.

And as much as he craves to chase his own pleasure and pump his seed into your waiting mouth, he has to make sure you’re okay. Pulling his dripping length from your lips, Seb crouches down to cup your face in his hands. You cough and take in a few ragged breaths before meeting his gaze. He strokes your cheek, “such a good girl for me” he sighs pulling you in for a searing kiss.

“Up you go,” he says, pushing you up to standing. You lean back against the parked bike, not trusting your legs to hold you. Now it’s your turn to look down at Seb, even though you know you have tear streaks on your face and drool on your chin, his eyes are full of adoration. It’s so cute you don’t know if you want to laugh or to cry.

He rubs his hands soothingly up and down your thighs. Then his fingers catch the hem of your shirt, lifting it just enough for him to press a soft kiss to your stomach. He grabs the waist of your jeans, eagerly undoing the button and zipper he pulls them down to reveal your black panties. This pair has a little bow just below the waistband like you’re a present that’s his to unwrap. He stands slowly, moving his hands from your waist to cup your breasts. 

He kisses you softly then whispers in your, “Turn around for me baby.” 

You do, bracing yourself against the bike. He softly touches your ass. It’s fully on display, framed by the lacy black straps of your thong. He growls, slapping your soft flesh. You let out a moan as the cool night breeze instantly soothes the sting. Seb cups your pussy and chuckles when he feels the hot wet crotch of your panties. 

“If I knew you’d like the bike so much, I would’ve put you on it ages ago,” he teases, pulling the fabric to the side.

He teases your slit with a long finger, dragging it through your folds to lightly flick your clit. You gasp and arch your back. Fuck he loves how responsive you are, every touch eliciting a reaction. He plunges two fingers into you, pumping his cock at the same pace. He gets lost in watching his digits disappear into your warm, wet hole. 

“M-more Seb, please,” you whine, pulling him from his trance. Before you register the loss of his fingers, the tip of his cock is already teasing your folds. You moan, pushing your hips back. 

Seb chuckles. “Is my sweet girl ready for my cock?” he asks under his breath.

He knows the answer is yes, he knows you’ve been ready since before the show, but he likes making you wait. Teasing you until his cock is the only thing that could make you feel better. He notches his length at your entrance and slowly pushes into you. You groan, finally getting what you’ve been craving for days. Your toys at home can’t compare to this feeling. Being filled and fucked by your man. 

He slowly enters you until his entire length is sheathed inside your perfect pussy. Your walls clench around him causing his breathing to turn ragged. His grip on your hips tightens, as he eases out of you until just his tip is inside of you. Then without warning, he shoves all the way back in. You cry out, arching your back and Seb knows he’s hit the spot inside you that makes you see stars. He thrusts into you again and again, fingers leaving bruises on your flesh as he steers you closer and closer to orgasm. Your walls squeeze him tighter and he knows you’re close. 

“That’s it, baby,” he grunts, “Cum for me, you can do it.” 

And you do, expletives and his name string together in a chant that he’s sure could raise him from the dead as you cum around his cock. He follows you over that cliff, pushing as deep as he’s able, sealing his body with yours as tightly as he can. If two souls could join, it must feel like this, he thinks as he empties himself into you.

The two of you stay in this position, you draped over the motorcycle like Seb’s wet dream and Seb still inside you, head hung low, trying to keep his legs from giving out as he decides if he ever wants to move again. And then your pussy flutters around his length and he’s sure if he doesn’t pull out now he’ll die from the overstimulation. Easing his cock from you he watches entranced as his seed drips out of you.

He’s never wanted kids but his mind is suddenly filled with images of your belly swollen as his child grows inside of you. He flushes and his cock twitches painfully at the thought. He pushes that desire down, your relationship (if you can even call it that) is so new, he’ll do anything to keep from scaring you away.

Carefully, he covers your dripping pussy with the thin strap of fabric that is your thong. You groan and wiggle your hips as he rubs you through the fabric. Seb slaps your bare ass, huffing out a laugh at your little yelp. After tucking his cock away and pulling on his jeans, Seb helps you up and turns you around. Leaning against his bike, he pulls you into his arms kissing the top of your head and breathing in the smell of your hair. You rest your head on his shoulder, kissing his neck.

His heart is so full he fears it might burst. You pull back to see his face, the look in his eyes is so tender, so loving you have to hold back tears. You slide your hands behind his neck and pull him in for a kiss. The kiss is long, full of hope and passion and all the things you are too nervous to say.

Pulling away from the kiss, Seb squeezes your still-exposed ass. “Let’s put this away before you tempt me to go again,” he says pulling up your jeans. You giggle, buttoning your pants. When you look up Seb is back on the bike, his arm extended toward you with helmet in hand. 

“What do you say, baby, let’s keep this adventure going?” he asks, hoping you understand the weight of his words. You know that after tonight, your heart is his whether he knows it yet or not. You take the helmet and climb onto the bike behind him. You whisper into his ear, “Lead the way Sebby,” and set the helmet on your head. He starts up to engine and with a whoop, the two of you speed off into the night. 

[slutforln4]

IN LOVE, IN ITALY.

🖇️ charles leclerc x painter reader

🖇️ in which, instagram is the diary for a fairytale love between a racer, a painter and their life in italy.

🖇️authors note: thank you to the lovely anon that submitted this request <3 hope you enjoy!!

࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, arthur_leclerc, landonorris and 376,937 others

yourusername i ❤️ summers in italy and my boy

comments

user1 PARENTSSSS

user2 i need a love like theirs

charles_leclerc why did i come second on the list of things you love 💔

yourusername i've loved you for three summers, my love, out of the twenty five i've lived. and i'll love you for many more.

user3 stop it rn i didn't need to see that today

user4 brb jumping

charles_leclerc

liked by yourusername, landonorris, carlossainz55 and 637,928 others

charles_leclerc i'm being held at gunpoint to post myself during summer break

comments

yourusername and i'll do it again 🔫

user5 let's all thank y/n for feeding us with charl content

user6 thank you y/n

user7 thanks y/n!!

user8 thank you mother

yourusername ur welcome, my loves x

landonorris never seen a man so happy to be on break

yourusername shade

landonorris was it that obvious?

charles_leclerc i love my job?

charles_leclerc !*

user9 ferrari has him locked up LMFAO

user10 bro can't even drive a car unless it's ferrari or he's cooked

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, landonorris, arthur_leclerc and 436,937 others

yourusername lemons, anyone? 🍋

comments

user11 what the fuck is that stance, charles...

charles_leclerc helps me catch fish

user12 i've never seen anyone paint lemons so realistically, how long did it take?

yourusername eight hours! i've mastered the craft of losing sleep and cramping fingers

user13 spare me some talent i beg

user14 i wonder if she's ever painted charles lol

landonorris paint me a papaya next

yourusername on it

charles_leclerc

liked by yourusername, landonorris, carlossainz55 and 837,948 others

charles_leclerc she doesn't always paint

comments

user15 red is her colour!

user16 she looks so cute in the helmet lol

user17 who won karting

yourusername me obvs

landonorris i did tho?

yourusername lando nowins suggests otherwise

user18 LMFAO

user19 why is she cooking lando omfg

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, arthur_leclerc, landonorris and 736,937 others

yourusername and he doesn't always race

comments

user20 wait the matching captions i'm emotional

user21 my actual parents

landonorris i hope whatever he was painting on the canvas was better than those eels on your back

yourusername it wasn't but it's the thought that counts

charles_leclerc hey :(

yourusername mi dispiace amore mio

user22 they're adorable i'm sobbing

yourusername

liked by arthur_leclerc, carlossainz55, landonorris and 836,937 others

yourusername new beginnings

comments

user23 NEW BEGINNINGS??

user24 don't tell me they broke up

user25 i'm ending myself if they broke up

user26 no? no. nope nuh uh

user27 WHY IS CHARLES NOT IN THE LIKES

user28 we're done for

charles_leclerc

liked by yourusername, arthur_leclerc, landonorris and 2,923,782 others

charles_leclerc guess what

comments

user29 OH MY GOD?????????/

user30 no fucking way

yourusername yours for eternity 🤍

charles_leclerc i wouldn't have it any other way

landonorris congratulations to my fav cringe couple

carlossainz55 congrats

georgerussell63 Congratulations from Carmen and I

lewishamilton congratulations 💐🤍

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, landonorris, carlossainz55 and 1,436,837 others

yourusername opened up a gallery in my fiancés name. come visit in maranello, italy 💌

comments

user31 i'm??? sobbing???

user32 i went there on opening day and half of her work mentions charles in the descriptions 😭 my fav one: "took a picture of the sunset after charles and i first kissed. it's been three years since and kissing him still feels like looking at this sunset."

user33 STOP????

user34 one of the paintings is literally called charles and it's a cluster of her and his birth month flowers.

charles_leclerc you never fail to make me fall even more in love with you. je t'aime chéri ❤️

yourusername ti amo di più tesoro 🤍

the end.

[brailsthesmolgurl]

WHERE'S MUMMY? PT.2

My first part has received an amazing amount of response, hence I decided that I would come out with a part two, and who knows? Maybe this could be another mini series for the boys? :)))) Regardless, enjoy the read!

Warnings: Comfort and Fluff, Slight Angst for some parts. Mentions of smexy times for one, suggestive for another. ANONS ARE POOPY SOMETIMES BUT THAT DOES NOT MEAN I WILL STOP WRITING SUGGESTIVE HAHA :(

RAFAYEL & MARIELA

"Daddy, Daddy, Daddy!" Mariela's voice could be heard from the other room at the end of the hallway as she called out to her father. Rafayel, who was busy working on one of his art pieces, dashed towards her room at full speed, panicking at how she was calling out to him. He slammed the door open, claymore ready to be withdrawn only to find his daughter on the floor, with paint all over her face and the canvas that he had provided to her.

One may ask why did Rafayel left his daughter all alone in her room while he was working on his art piece. Rafayel, being a good father, had coaxed his daughter for 30 minutes, with candies and also anything she could possibly want, only to be rejected by her. Her adamant 'NO's made Rafayel confused as to why she would want to paint alone in her room. 'I can do this myself daddy' was the last sentence she told him before she closed the door. And he wondered where she got the attitude from, and he had a good guess probably inherited from her independent mother.

So Rafayel sat at the living room, in his usual thinking corner, painting his artwork, but also carefully listening to anything that might go on in the room. He did tried and checked up on her a couple of minutes ago, knocking on her door and asking if she would like any biscuits with milk but the young child only replied 'NO' as if that is the only word she knew for the morning.

"I thought something happened to you, my little fishie." Rafayel sighed in relief, walking over to her to look at what she had drawn. He took a seat next to her and looked at her face. "How did you managed to get paint on both the canvas and your face?" He pulled the little girl into his lap and he chuckled, using his thumb to try and rub the paint off of her face and luckily it came off pretty easily. He silently thanked your effort in purchasing non-toxic paints for Mariela.

"I wanted to do it like how daddy do it." Her smile was angelic, one of Rafayel's trademark. She reenacted how she did it, by drawing air circles on her palm and on her face. "I drew here, and here and..." She flattened her palms and plopped her face onto the surface of her palms. Rafayel was in shock at her creativity.

"So you used your hands and your face as tools to draw?" He tilted his head and when the toddler nodded giddily, Rafayel pinched her cherubic cheeks. "You are an artist just like me. No wonder you're my daughter." He kissed her cheeks and carried her up in his arms. "Now, let's get you washed up and then we will show this piece to mummy when she is back from work okay?"

"OKAY!" She cheered, both arms flying up into the air and Rafayel laughed, bringing her into the bathroom to wash her off from the mess she had brought upon herself.

The roars of your motorbike could be heard and that led Mariela to jump off of the couch, with Rafayel catching up behind her quickly. "Mummy's home!" Mariela was elated, trying to turn the door knob the best she could but with her size and strength, she is not able to. Rafayel came to the rescue on time and he opened the door, smiling when he spotted you getting off of your motorbike and unclasping the buckle of your helmet, swiftly removing the headgear and placing it on your motorbike's seat. "Mummy!"

"Hey there sweetie!" You called out and shuffled over, arms wide opened and your daughter embraced you within your arms. "How was your day today hmm?"

The latter question of yours was directed towards your husband, who was standing against the door frame, arms crossed in front of his torso while watching both of his favourite women walking towards him. "It was good because there is a surprise." He winked at you and you both shared a peck, before heading in. "Mariela, do you want to show mummy what you drawn today?"

"Yeah! Yeah!" The little girl wriggled out of your arms smoothly and she waddled off to her room. You took a seat on the marble floor and awaited for your daughter's return. Rafayel taking a seat right next to you and he encircled his arms around your waist, giving your side a soft knead. The soft sound of thuds closing in when your daughter came out from her room, with something behind her back. "Mummy close your eyes."

Your husband then got behind you and he used his palms to cover your eyes, nodding towards your daughter to proceed further. Mariela pulled the canvas out from behind her and she placed it in your lap, before taking your hand cautiously and put it on her canvas. Rafayel released his hold on your face and you looked down, gasping in surprise at what your daughter had managed to colour on her canvas. But, you can't make out any shapes or sizes, other than two hand prints of hers and what seems to be an imprint of your daughter's face.

"This is so nice of you sweetie." You pulled her in for a hug and kissed her head. "Did you do this with your hands and face?" You asked just to be sure and her reaction made you stared at Rafayel. The actual artist staring back at you, shrugging his shoulders and muttering something along the lines of 'she did not want me to see what she was doing, so I left her to her own creativity'.

"Abstract art is great!" Rafayel smiled, ruffling his daughter's brunette curls which had grown a bit longer. "Daddy can put this in the next exhibition and you can go with me to see it." Rafayel looked at his daughter and she cheered, hugging you tightly and you beckoned your husband in for a hug as well.

On the day of the exhibition, Rafayel was busy attending to the guests, completing his interviews and taking pictures with his fans. You are spending time with Mariela, hand holding hers as the both of you walked through the exhibition halls. Pink and blue and purple, all colours within the same spectrum covered the walls in forms of splatters, lace ribbons were tapered to the ceilings, to add on a touch of elegance. No doubt your husband has 'extravagance' as his middle name.

Almost every corner is littered with his artworks, ranging from abstract to rough sketches, to impressionism paintings to sculptures. Rafayel is a master to all types of artworks, which gained him the fame and respect he has gotten till now. The wooden flooring resonated the sound of your footsteps, heels clacked against it in sync. You looked down at your daughter to notice the little girl has her mouth agaped, staring at all of her father's artworks in awe. Same, Mariela, same.

"Is that the daughter he had mentioned about?" A distant voice could be heard echoing from the end of the hallway and you turned around, seeing a woman clad in a formal outfit, hair neatly tied back and a microphone in her hand. A camera man right behind of her with one of his huge video cameras situated on his shoulder. "Hi, can we do an interview?"

Out of politeness, you agreed, smiling and nodding your head and the reporter crew started to approach you and your daughter. You lowered yourself down to carry Mariela up into your arms so that she could be within the shot as well, assuming the reporter would like a word or two with the renowned artist's daughter.

"How would you describe living with Rafayel, a famous artist?" The reporter held out the mic to you, awaiting for your response.

"Uhm...living with Rafayel has always been a pleasant one, as he does take care of me and my daughter's needs." You replied, a smile coming forth. "He is a good husband and a good father."

"That is good to note. Rafayel sure do cares about you guys a lot. But, would you care to say that you fell in love with him because he is rich and famous?" The daring assumption made by the reporter made you scowled in 4k on the Linkon's National Television Network.

Your eyebrows are now knitted together, your facade of being nice slowly fading behind your rising annoyance. "No. I certainly do not and will never love him just because of his wealth and fame. I love him for the way he is."

"Fans had also mentioned that you do not seem to be a good example of a mother given you are a deepspace hunter yourself. Moreover, given the recent decrease in recruits, you had to take up double shifts to cover for the incident. What do you have to say regarding this?" The woman smirked, knowing she had struck a nerve in you. Her tone coated in layers of disdain and you can see it right through. This is a personal attack towards you and your family.

Before you could retort the question, you felt a hand on the small on your back and you turned around, your husband standing upright beside you. A look you knew all too well shown on his face. "Get out of my exhibition." The crew feigned innocence, looking at one another to mentally convince themselves that they had done nothing wrong other than doing their jobs. "Nobody disrespects my wife and my family like that. Be it fans or reporters or anyone else. SO you can kindly see yourself out before I call on my security guards." The edge of his lips curled into a cunning smirk. "Which I think might not look good on your company's reputation if they were to escort you guys out."

The bunch of strangers started dispersing out of the family's sight and you looked at Rafayel, who is quick to take Mariela off of your arms and into his. "Are you okay?" He ran the back of his hand across your cheek. "I am sorry, I should have been by your side the whole time." He apologised, putting the blame onto himself but you held his hand in yours, thumb rubbing comforting circles.

"Don't say that Rafayel. You were just doing what Thomas has asked of you. I can fend for myself if those remarks were thrown to me." You gave him a peck on your cheek. "Even if the day you end up being homeless and broke, I will still love you." You looked over to your daughter, who had cosied up to her father's neck, fast asleep.

"The same thing applies from me to you too, cutie." The use of the old nickname rolling off of the tip of his tongue made you bit your lip and you could not help but to smile, looking down at your heels. His finger lifted your chin up, and he pressed a kiss onto your lips lovingly in the middle of the exhibition hallway, ensuring that reporters who may be passing by would be able to catch a glimpse of his actual exhibition of love.

ZAYNE & LUMI & IVER

"Good morning." You could make out Zayne's husky voice and his weight was pressed up slightly against your back, a kiss then planted on your cheek. "Today is Lumi and Iver's presentation day. The one where they have to bring a parent along and to introduce them."

"Oh it's today?" You asked, yawning and stirring yourself to wake. You turned over to face your husband and you opened one eye. "I totally forgotten about it." Zayne smiled, pressing a kiss to your lips this time. You felt particularly tired because today is one of those rare off days you could get whenever Wanderer sightings are not reported as often, and perhaps, with the amount of lovemaking you had gone through with Zayne last night, it was a little hard for you to just jump out of bed and get ready for now.

"I can go on behalf on us as I do not need to be in the hospital today." He smoothed his hand over your hair, staring at you lovingly with those alluring hazel-green eyes of his. "So, take your time to rest, my love. You deserve it." Another kiss is pressed to your lips for a few seconds and he got out of bed, walking over to you to pull his side of blanket over your half naked body. "I don't want you to get a cold, so you may take my side of the blanket too."

You smiled warmly at him in return and managed to catch a glimpse of his toned physique when he walked towards the bathroom to wash himself up. Once he was done, he went over to the kids' room to wake them up. "Lumi, Iver. It's time to wake up." He said gently, pushing the curtains open to draw in the sunlight. The twins slowly stirred awake and they both sat up in their beds, in a half awake state.

"Morning daddy." Lumi spoke, with Iver saying the same exact greeting a few seconds behind. As if by routine, they both extended their arms out and Zayne picked both of them up in one-go, bringing them to the bathroom so they could get washed up and get dressed for school.

Pulling up at the twin's kindergarten, Zayne parked at the allocated parking lots for the parents and he got out of the car, immediately getting stares and comments from the bystanders in hushed whispers. Not only does he own a fancy car that most parents could not afford, but he is also extremely good looking. He popped the backseat's door open and escorted both of his kids into the kindergarten's premises.

Zayne sat on the floor, just like the other parents but it felt a little out of place for him as he was the only father who attended this event. The usual stigma regarding kids shall always be tied to a mother's responsibility but Zayne has never believed in that. He strongly believes that childrens are a result of both sides of parents, hence they should be a shared responsibility for both parents.

Lumi and Iver sat in front of their father, and they noticed the way their classmates were looking over to them. "Is that your daddy?" One of the classmates asked Lumi, the toddler about her size, with big brown eyes and short brown bob. Lumi nodded in return. "My mummy say he looks very nice." The comment made Zayne looked over at the parent who is in charge of the talking child and the mother looked away in embarassment.

As usual, Zayne is used to this kind of scenarios, even in hospitals he would always be stared at by patients, some even going as far as to state that they are cured because of how handsome he is. Zayne however, never bought into any of those bullshit. It is not because he is egoistic, but he does not want to be downplayed because of his looks. The saying goes, if you are handsome, you get a certain privilege amongst the normies. Zayne wanted to prove that idea to be a total scam as looks does not necessarily equate to one's actual capabilities in getting things done. Zayne being a prime example.

The homeroom teacher came in after the bell had finished ringing and she welcomed all of the parents' attendance. Goes on about the agenda for the day and that this event is held to encourage stronger bonds between parents and children and amongst their peers as well. "Lumi and Iver's father, would you like to be the first one to start?" She asked Zayne, palms out and pointed towards him.

"Sure." The man replied, clearing his throat and standing up, his towering height a stark difference from his children. He walked to the front of the classroom. Kids of their age would have thought of him being the giant in the beanstalk fairytale if only he had green skin and a big nose. Zayne pushed the glasses up the bridge of his nose and greeted everyone. "Good morning everybody, my name is Zayne and I am the father to Lumi and Iver." He sent a smile towards his kids. "I am the chief surgeon and leading cardiologist for Akso Hospital."

Zayne talked about his job, keeping it brief and non-technical as he does not want to bore anyone within the room and he does not find the need to reveal too much of his personal information. Now comes the questioning phase, in which the parents would ask questions towards the speaker to get to know them better. "Dr. Zayne, since you are a doctor, would your work take up a lot of time?" One of the ladies asked, readjusting her position on the mat.

"Yes it does." Simple and clear-cut.

"Then do you have a wife to take care of the kids for you?" Her question turned into a flirtatious attempt and a couple of other mums started to tune in, some biting their lip and some fixing their hair. Does not take one to know what was already running through their minds.

Zayne sighed, feeling indifferent to her question. He purposely held his left hand in front of his chest and he twisted the wedding band that is evident on his ring finger, the diamond cut on the simple band refracting the sunlight almost immediately. The lady who asked her question seemingly tried to choke back on her own words, face darkening to a shade akin to a tomato. "Of course I do. A doctor would not be in his or her right mind to have kids and to work full time when our job requires us to be on call for 24/7."

He continued. "My wife is a full time deepspace hunter and we are both equally as involved in our children's lives, just on intervals for the weekdays, but on weekends, we take more time to nurture them." The way he phrased his answer made the whole room went silent, the only sound present being the chirps of the birds coming from outside of the window.

"We are home mummy!" Both of the twins shouted together, placing their shoes onto the shoe rack and dashing into the house to look for their mother. Zayne followed in suit, keeping an eye on them two so they do not end up falling.

"Hey there my babies!" You called out from your bedroom, already dressed up and wide awake. Lumi and Iver both in their tiny white uniforms with stripes of blue, the uniform colour of the kindergarten they both attended. Lumi's dark hair was tied into a neat braid, an effort from Zayne's Youtube history having a streak watch for braid tutorials. Iver's hair however is soft and fluffy, the same as his father’s and it sat on top of his head like a cloud.

"How was the parent meeting?" You asked them two, and they both enveloped you into a big hug, each on one side. Both of your kids looked very happy so you assumed that it went well.

"All of our friends brought mummies." Iver stated. "Nobody bring their daddies to school today." Lumi nudged Iver and whispered something into his ear in her low voice and the boy reiterated what her sister said. "Oh and Cathy's mummy said daddy looks very good."

"She said he is handsome." Lumi corrected Iver and they both turned in sync to watch your reaction. What could you possibly say? Your husband is good looking, it is a bound-to-happen situation but you somehow wished you were the one that attended the event instead. A small slither of jealousy bubbled in your stomach. Just a tiny one.

You were wondering if Zayne took the lady's compliment until you saw your husband walking into the room, with a stoic look. He has always been stoic, yes, but this time, something is different about this look of his. His white formal collared shirt hugged his muscled figure well, his simple black tie hanging loosely below the third button, extending one's sight on his wide sets of shoulders and his v-line figure. His sleeves were folded to his forearm, veins lining against the exposed part of his arms. He placed the car keys and his glasses onto the makeup table and sent you a short look, the side of his lips pulled up into a greeting and loving smile. "Good morning, y/n."

"Good morning, my love." You wanted to believe that Zayne did not entertain the lady's compliment, but you just wanted to hear him say it. So, y/n decided to go with an indirect approach. "Kids, can you wait for mummy outside? Daddy and mummy have to talk a little." Once both of the kids had left, you turned to your 'sulking' husband who was busy changing into a more comfortable outfit. "Come on, what happened?"

"Apparently, I was the only male figure there." He spoke informatively. "And particularly, I do not find it likeable when the other parents think that I am a single parent." His sentence got you figuring when did he ever cared about what people think about him? Has the cold Dr. Zayne finally loosened up? "I find it disrespectful towards you despite them meeting me for the first time." He sounds offended and yet providing the benefit of the doubt to the other parents.

You stared at him, perplexed at the situation. "So, conclusively, you do not enjoy going to the parent's meeting?" You crossed your arms in front of your torso. "Because you do not like the way I got low-key disrespected by the other mums?" A part of you is tasting victory at the tip of your tongue for how protective he is, another part of you---, okay there's no other part. It is the least Zayne could do to show you and the others that he is in a happy marriage and you are fully content with the way he had handled it.

There is not a need to address your concerns of the woman calling him handsome anymore because you know well enough if Zayne had wanted to cheat on you, he could have done it many times given his popularity amongst the opposite sex. But he stayed loyal through thick and thin and had never made you doubt his loyalty and love to you, this being one of his prime examples of being a fine husband.

Zayne chuckled under his breath and came closer to you, both of his hands held your arms and he leaned down to press a kiss to your forehead. "Low-key is too minimal of a word to describe their assumptions. It is disrespectful for them to assume I am a single parent, when I have a model wife right here with me." He ran his hands repeatedly up and down your arms to comfort you.

"Furthermore, I do enjoy going to Lumi and Iver's events at the kindergarten but perhaps next time, I would much prefer it if you went with me." He pulled you into his arms and you surrendered within his hug. "So that we can spend time with the kids and I get to indirectly dismiss any ladies who may be interested in taking your place." Your laugh further made him look forward to the upcoming event for his kids' kindergarten.

XAVIER & LUCIAN

"Daddy, what are you doing?" Lucian appeared from behind his bedroom door, one eye opened while the other half-lidded. Xavier took a peek at the clock hung on the wall. 10.30am. Lucian, however, is looking at the desk filled with all sorts of sewing needles and a bunch of fabric lapped over one another. "Are you making something daddy?" His eyebrows hinged upwards and he tried to get onto his tip toes to see what was placed on the table. Seeing his son struggling, he carried the little boy up into his arms and placed him on his lap. "I am trying to sew mum a toy, you know, like the ones that you can get from the souvenir shops and all?" Lucian looked between his father and the mess on the table, figuring out how does one make a bunch of cloths into a toy. The limitation of imagination a normal happening for a toddler his age. "What should we make for mummy?"

"A big teddy bear!" The son exclaimed, arms wide and laughing happily. Xavier chuckled along, his son not lacking any bit of his wife's enthusiasm. "Rabbit? Mummy likes rabbits." The son pressed his small index finger to his own lips, thinking to himself. The suggestion of his made Xavier's cheeks flushed red, remembering that one time when you brought him to an event and made him dressed up as a rabbit themed butler, and that is how he met Lucian's mum. Ironic, I know.

"Yeah, I guess a rabbit would do." A sigh escaped his lips when he noticed none of the cloths on the table are white. Unless his wife would be able to appreciate a multi-coloured rabbit toy, he did not want to risk it. "We need to go shopping for some stuffs. Can you go and change your clothes Lucian?" Xavier instructed and the little boy headed off to his bedroom as he was previously trained. As much as independence goes, you and Xavier had decided that some good habits have to be instilled from young. Dressing himself up being one of the disciplines you guys had agreed on.

Xavier got himself changed into a simple white t-shirt and a pair of wide jeans. Surprisingly and yet not surprisingly, Lucian came out of his room, holding a same blue jeans in his hand. "Daddy, can you help me? It is hard to pull it up-up." He pouted, handing Xavier the jeans. Steadying himself, Xavier pulled the jeans up his legs and helped him to button it. "Thank you daddy." The son grinned from ear to ear and held onto Xavier's hand, going over to put on his shoes.

Initially, they were going to ride the motorbike to get to where they are headed, but given the sun is high up the skies today, it calls for a chance for the both of them to enjoy a walk under the clear and warm weather. Xavier did brought along an umbrella as well, in case Lucian gets a little hot. Just because he enjoys the sun, he does not immediately assume his son would enjoy it as much. A lesson he had learned from his wife when you got a fever after walking with him under the sun despite you not being able to stand the heat.

The streets today are not as busy as the normal weekends, with minimal traffic and pedestrians. "Are you tired already?" Xavier observed his son, his footsteps slowing down and slightly wonky. Lucian looked up at his towering father and shake his head, hand coming up to rub his eyes and he yawned. Tears lined his eyes and Xavier bent down to carry his son up into his arms. "It's okay, you can take a nap in my arms, kiddo."

He walked down the street, passing by a coffee shop that looked newly opened. As he was looking through the menu that was on a stand outside, his phone vibrated in his pocket. Fishing it out of his pocket, he noticed that his wife is contacting him. "Hello? Baby?" He immediately pressed the phone to his ear. "Is everything okay?"

"Yeah, everything's fine. I woke up to an empty house. Where are you and Lucian?" You asked and he gulped, luckily he had kept the threads and sewing kits and fabrics or else the surprise factor would be ruined.

"Lucian told me that he wanted to have a walk at the park. Since you are still sound asleep, I decided to bring him out for a small walk." Xavier explained, head tilting slightly to look at his son. Still sound asleep within his arms. "We will be back around 15 minutes. Is there anything you would like me to get for you?"

"Some coffee would be great, Xavier." You smiled on the other side of the line, same as him. "Be safe when you are at the park with Lucian alright? I will just rest a bit more at home." You informed him and the call ended with 'Bye' and 'I love you'.

Arriving at a craft store, he lightly woke his son up by kissing his cheek. "We are here Lucian, would you like to accompany me to decide on what colour to get for mummy?" Lucian blinked open his eyes, those light blue irises of his slowly darkened to make up for the lack of lighting within the store. The trinkets neatly placed in various baskets and boxes amazed the child, there are so many things he would like to get his hands on.

"Hi there, how may I help you?" A senior appeared from behind the counter. A lovely lady with a hunched figure, her own kitting works worn on her. Xavier leaned closer to the counter, noticing the vast amount of fabrics, of all sizes and textures mapped out behind the counter. There are also several pictures, in monogramic style, featuring the old lady in her younger days and what seems to be her children, standing side by side, smiling with her. Her light brown eyes lit up when she caught sight of Xavier and Lucian. "Oh, what a precious child."

"Thank you." Xavier thanked her. The old lady laid her knitting items down onto the table she had beside her and she reached her wrinkly hand up to wave it in front of Lucian. The young kid was quick to react, using his tiny hand to wrap around the lady's index finger and Xavier swear he could have seen the old woman regained her youth at that moment. Perhaps reminiscing about the times when she had her kids alongside her. "I am here to get some fabric so I can make a stuffed toy for my wife."

Now it is Xavier's time to have a hunched back. He never thought the process of sewing a stuffed toy would be so complicated. Can't blame him, given his royalty background in Philos and him being an esteemed deepspace hunter in this dimension, why would he even go near anything related to sewing and knitting? It is however, a part-time hobby of yours, as you mentioned that you find it to be peaceful and helps you to focus better. It is also a good past time on the days when you are not busy out on the field.

"Daddy, daddy look at that!" Lucian called out and his head turned towards the direction his son pointed at. Claw Machine Store. Why has he never thought of just taking things the easy route? Because he did not want to. Catching a stuffed toy from a claw machine will always surpass the level of easiness as compared to making a stuffed toy from scratch. Furthermore, the thought of you finding out he actually put in the effort to make the stuffed toy for you would leave your heart melting. He wanted that from you, or more like he just wants you to be happy.

Across the street stood the claw machine store, with stuffed toys filled to the brim for each of the machines, begging to be caught. Your son's eyes are fully attached to the store now, already making mental marks on which toys he would want in his room. Your husband lack that enthusiasm, staring down at the huge bag of craft items he had just purchased from the store. He is debating against himself. Whether to catch a toy or to make one. Either one could predict for different endings, but he knows that you would be happy for both endings. Perhaps he was slightly irritated for the measuring of the level for your happiness.

"Let's go Lucian." He grabbed his son and heaved him upwards, holding the child in his arms like how one carries a log and he crossed the empty street. His feet light and quick in his steps, a habit obtained from his long-time combat instincts. The borders of the tar road ended when he stepped onto the padded pavement, putting his son down and watched as the kid hopped into the store. Xavier was quick on his tail, worried that something might happen to his son.

Luckily, the little boy with the light hair is easy to spot amongst the assemblage of neon lights and bright colours emitting from the machines. Lucian stood in front of a machine, hands pressed against the glass panel, hair stained pink from the light strobe of the machine. "Can we get this one for mummy?" His grin was angelic, but Xavier stood there, slightly stunned. Did his son perhaps doubted his sewing abilities as well like how he doubted his cooking abilities? Well, there is a possibility.

"But I bought these already kiddo. I thought we were going to make a toy for mummy." Xavier tried to test the waters and his son only responded with gestures, tine finger tapped at the glass panel again, pointing directly at the bunny plushie. "Lucian..." Xavier tried to coax him again.

Lucian then faced his father, lips pursed together. "The granny told me that you might get hurt from sewweng." The last word that has not been registered in his vocabulary. "I don't want daddy to get hurt. I don't think mummy will be happy too." For a 3-year old, his sensibility is admirable. His son's words changed his mind, and he gave the little boy a card, the one where he usually reloads a bit too much tokens in it for any sorts of arcades. "Let's get one for mummy together okay?"

"You," You closed the bedroom door behind you, a pastel pink stuffed rabbit in your grasp. Lucian had already being put to sleep shortly after his dinner because the poor boy was dozing off on the dining table. Today could have been a long day for your son. You watched your husband shifted his gaze from the mukbang show on the television to you. "Are a bad liar."

"What do you mean?" His voice feigning innocence when he sat up in a better posture, leaning against the bedframe now. "What have I done this time?"

"Lucian told me that you stitched this yourself." Your teasing smile is apparent to him now, you wiggling the bunny in your hands to show him the evident of his works.

"Do you not believe me?" Xavier's eyes widened, here comes the puppy look. He got out of the bed and slowly approached you. His aura taking a turn from being accused to being the accuser. "Or, do you not want to believe that I stitched it?"

You took a step back, your lower back pressed against the makeup table and he caged you, arms extended on both sides of your figure and he leaned in, smirking and chuckling lowly under his breath. "I...I...didn't know you could stitch toys." Your breath hitched in your throat as you could feel his warm breath fanned across your cheeks.

"I feel a little bit upset now." He expressed, pressing a soft and longing kiss onto your cheek and you jolted in shock. "Your son and I had tried to get a toy for you at the arcade today but we kind of finished the credits because the machine was problematic." You would safely put a finger on the fact that he is just bad at claw machine games as per usual. "So, Lucian and I decided to go back to the store where we bought the craft products from and got the old lady behind the counter to give us a crafting lesson. Then this bunny is the outcome of the lesson."

You can feel your heart bloomed at his explanation. You felt bad for doubting his skills, and you even thought that the bad stitching of the toy is a trend nowadays hence you assume your poor husband went off fishing at the claw machine arcades. You should not have doubted his determination. "I'm sorry Xavier, I didn't mean to. I just never thought you would go so out of your way to make me a stuffed bunny. I just---" His index finger slid past your bottom lip at a painfully slow pace.

"Sometimes, you can choose other methods to let me know that you're sorry." He whispered quietly and leaned down to kiss you, the doll you were holding taken out of your hands and tossed behind him, landing on the floor with a thud and your vision blended out into both of your igniting passion.

Here you go lovelies, this is part two for the LNDS boys with their kids and you <3

Leave me your thoughts and love <3 Have a nice day to all me lovelies!!!!

[dumbslvtforethan]

✁ THE DINER. ethan landry

inspired by "THE DINER" by billie eilish.

warnings: stalking, obssesion, posessive, no smut just plot343 words

navigation

𐙚 mdni!! ↓↓ 𐙚༘⋆ೀೀ

"DONT BE AFRAID OF ME, IM WHAT YOU NEED." That was the note slipped under your dorm door. You assumed it was from your so-called stalker, as your friends would tell you whenever they saw the notes he left. At first, they were things like, "I know we're meant to be" or "You're starring in my dreams." You leaned down to pick up the note when your roommate, Mindy, stopped you."No, Y/N, enough. Seriously, this stalker stuff is getting creepy.""Oh, don't call whoever this is a stalker. Look, it's nothing."Mindy picked up the note and read it. "Don't be afraid of me?? Is that what you call nothing? For me, this is sounding a bit Ghostface-like." She looked at you with judging eyes. "Come on, we're going to be late for class."You grabbed her arm, leaving your dorm. In front of Mindy, you pretended to brush it off. You knew she'd freak out, but in reality, you were also scared, terrified.

"So, how's stalker boy?" Tara asked while you two were walking to the lunch table."Tara, I'm starting to get scared," you said, stopping in your tracks."Trust me, it's nothing. Plus, think about it, someone is obsessed with you.""Yeah, you're probably right." You both sat down with the rest of the group."Hey guys," Chad said, smiling."Hey, where is Mindy?" you asked. She was the only one missing."Oh, she forgot her pen or something. She'll be back in a bit," Anika said. That was technically true, but Mindy was actually looking for more notes or letters from your stalker. An envelope was attached to the fridge, marked "From: Stalker Boy." Mindy yanked it from the fridge and tore it open.In the meantime, you were sitting next to Ethan. You two were never really close; you'd only talk because of Econ."Are you okay?" he asked, putting his hand on your shaking leg."Yeah, I'm fine, don't worry." You smiled sweetly, turning to face him, and he smiled back."Hey, I'm back," Mindy said, eyeing you. You stood up from the table and went to talk to her."Stalker boy wrote you a letter.""Wait, a real handwritten letter?"Mindy nodded. "Well, that's... weird.""Finally, you came to your senses. Anyways, I destroyed it.""Mindy! That could've been evidence.""Yeah, no, I don't think 'you could be my wife' is evidence." You both chuckled.Ethan was watching from the table, reading your lips. Knowing you knew about his letter just made him more aroused.

Later, you got ready to go to a random Halloween frat party someone was hosting. Maybe you should've worn an outfit that showed less skin because the number of guys hitting on you was obscene. Some were gentle, talking about your future together, while others were more aggressive, kissing you without permission. You needed to catch some air.You stepped outside, sitting on one of the steps of the doorway. "Hey, can I sit here?" Steve asked. He was from Econ, and you always thought he was cute."Yeah, sure.""So, are you enjoying the party?""Not really, actually. Guys keep hitting on me. I want someone who wants me for me, not just for my body," you blurted out."I guess I feel the same way." You both stared at each other. You leaned in and kissed him without much thinking."Oh my God, I'm sorry. I don't know what I was thinking." You put your hand over your mouth and got up."Wait," he ran over. "I liked it." He smiled and kissed you again. "Do you need a ride home?" You nodded, smiling. You couldn't believe you just kissed the boy you liked and now he was taking you home. You both walked over to his car, and he opened the door for you.What you couldn't see was Ethan watching. He tilted his head slowly, observing. He pulled his phone from his pocket and took a picture of you two, gripping his beer bottle, chugging one more time before throwing it on the ground when you both took off. He put on his helmet and rode his motorcycle to the diner.

He sat down at his usual place and wrote you another letter, more aggressive and explicit than the last one. He didn't even care if you'd be scared. You were his, and he was yours, at least that's what he thought.

You came back home exhausted. Mindy wasn't home; she texted you saying she was sleeping at Anika's. You entered your bedroom, set your purse on your bed.Sitting in the bathtub, you let the warm water envelop you, trying to wash away the anxiety that clung to you. The steam rose around you, and for a moment, you could almost forget about the notes and the unease they brought. After a while, you drained the tub and slipped into your softest pajamas, feeling a bit more at ease.As you walked back into your room, you noticed the clock on your nightstand blinking 11:45 PM. You sat on the edge of your bed, brushing your still-damp hair. Your phone buzzed with a text from Mindy."Are you okay? Did you get home safe?""Yeah, I'm fine. Just tired," you replied, setting your phone down.You tried to distract yourself by scrolling through social media, but your thoughts kept drifting back to the stalker and the unnerving notes. You considered telling the campus security, but part of you felt it would be dismissed as a prank or overreaction. Besides, you didn't have any solid evidence, thanks to Mindy's well-meaning destruction of the latest letter.After a while, your eyelids grew heavy. You turned off your phone and snuggled under your blankets, hoping sleep would come quickly. But as you lay there in the dark, every creak of the dorm, every rustle of the wind outside, seemed magnified. You couldn't shake the feeling that someone was watching you.

Meanwhile, at the diner, Ethan was finishing his letter. He wrote with a fervor, his handwriting becoming more erratic as he poured his obsessive thoughts onto the paper. The letter was filled with declarations of love, veiled threats, and vivid descriptions of his fantasies about you. He folded it carefully, placing it in an envelope with your name on it. As the night stretched on, you finally drifted off into a restless sleep, unaware of the shadowy figure lurking outside your window, watching. Ethan stood there for a moment, his breath fogging up the glass as he stared at you. He slipped the new letter under your door before disappearing into the night.You woke up in the middle of the night with a headache, feeling slightly more rested but still uneasy.

The memory of the kiss with Steve brought a small smile to your face, but it was quickly overshadowed by the sight of another envelope lying on the floor inside your door. Your heart sank as you saw another paper "310-807-3956" it was your phone number. you picked it up, the familiar handwriting sending chills down your spine.You tore it open, dreading what you'd find. The words were more intense, more disturbing than before. "i could change your life, you could be my wife" it read. "please dont call the cops, they'll make me stop, and i just wanna talk". "No one else can have you. I'll make sure of it." The explicit nature of the letter made your skin crawl. Suddenly, your phone rang. The caller ID displayed "Unknown Number." You hesitated for a moment before answering, your heart pounding in your chest. "Hello?" you asked, your voice trembling slightly. "Hey gorgeous, did you get my letter?" The voice on the other end was eerily calm, almost familiar. "Stop calling me, please," you pleaded, trying to keep your voice steady. "I memorized your number, now I call you when I please," he continued, ignoring your plea. "I tried to end it all, but now I'm back up on my feet. I saw you in the car with someone else and couldn't sleep. If something happens to him, you can bet that it was me." The call ended abruptly, leaving you in stunned silence. The phone slipped from your hand, clattering to the floor.

what the fuck.

part two?

@jchampionsgf on tumblr

a/n: heard the diner and decided to make history

[pucksandpower]

Fashionably Challenged

Max Verstappen x Reader

Summary: you and Max may not exactly be the paddock’s most stylish couple, but you wouldn’t want it any other way

You wake up to the sound of Max rummaging through the closet of your shared hotel suite. Rolling over, you see him laying out two matching outfits — the Red Bull Racing team polos, skinny jeans, and sneakers you’ve grown accustomed to over the years.

One set for him, one set for you.

“Morning, liefje,” he says, catching your gaze. “I have our outfits for the day ready to go.”

You smile sleepily. “Thanks, babe. You know me too well.”

Max grins as he walks over and climbs back into bed, throwing an arm around you. “Of course I do. Can’t have my girlfriend showing up to races looking anything less than perfect.”

You laugh and playfully shove him. “Oh shut up. You know I’d show up in a potato sack if I could.”

“Don’t even joke about that,” he says with mock seriousness. “I would never let you embarrass me like that.”

“Embarrass you?” You scoff. “Please, like you even notice what I’m wearing half the time. You’re just as bad as me when it comes to fashion.”

Max opens his mouth to protest but then shuts it, shrugging in admission. “Okay, fair point. But that’s why I always get you the same thing I’m wearing. So there’s no way we can mess it up.”

You consider this for a moment. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. We make a pretty fashionably challenged couple.”

“The most fashionably challenged,” he agrees with a laugh. He pauses, gaze growing serious. “But I like it that way. I like that we match.”

Warmth blooms in your chest. “Me too.”

The morning passes quickly as you get ready for the race. True to form, you both pull on the matching outfits without a second thought. As you’re walking out to the car, Max stops you.

“Wait,” he says, taking your hand and turning you to face him. He looks you up and down appraisingly. “You look perfect, just like always.”

You can’t help but beam at the compliment. “Have I told you lately how much I love you?”

He grins. “Not nearly enough.”

“Well I do,” you say, leaning in to kiss him. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too, schatje,” Max murmurs against your lips. “Now let’s go kick some ass today.”

The race goes well, Max taking the checkered flag to the roar of the crowds. As you’re waiting to congratulate him, a podcaster approaches you with a microphone.

“Hi there,” she says brightly. “I’m Lottie from The Racing Line. I was wondering if I could ask you a couple quick questions?”

“Oh, um, sure,” you’re a bit caught off guard.

“Great! So first off, you and Max always seem to be wearing matching outfits to the races. Is that something you two purposely coordinate as a cute couple thing?”

You feel your cheeks flush slightly. “Oh no, not at all actually. The truth is neither of us have much fashion sense at all. So Max just gets me the female version of whatever he’s wearing to make it easy.”

The podcaster looks disappointed. “Oh, I see. So it’s not some adorable couple tradition then?”

“Well, I mean, I guess in a way it kind of is?” You say quickly, feeling guilty. “Neither of us are really into fashion, so we end up matching by default anyway. I think it’s sweet that we always end up coordinating without even trying because we’re just so in sync.”

She perks up at that. “Aww, okay, I can see that! So even though it’s not on purpose, you’ve made your own cute little tradition out of it just by being so aligned. That’s really romantic.”

You nod, smiling softly. “Yeah, I guess you could say that.”

“Well thank you so much for your time,” she shakes your hand. “And congratulations to Max on another win!”

“Thank you,” you reply as she walks away.

A few minutes later Max emerges, helmet under his arm and face lit up in that way you love. You throw your arms around him, pulling him into a tight hug.

“Congratulations baby, you were amazing out there as always.”

“Thank you, schatje,” he says, squeezing you close. He pauses, smile turning teasing. “Did you enjoy chatting with that podcaster earlier?”

You pull back, eyes narrowing. “You saw that, did you?”

He chuckles. “Of course I did. I always notice you.”

“Well then you also saw me have to completely backtrack and come up with some sappy story for why we match when she thought it was a cutesy couple thing,” you say dryly.

Max shrugs. “It kind of is though, isn’t it? Maybe not on purpose, but it’s become our thing.”

“I guess you’re right,” you admit. “I told her it was romantic how in sync we are, always coordinating outfits without even trying.”

“Hmm, I like that,” he says, grinning. “We really are pretty in sync, aren’t we? Two fashionably hopeless peas in a pod.”

You laugh. “That we are.” You look at him fondly. “But I love our way better than being one of those obnoxiously coordinated couples.”

“Me too,” he agrees. “Though I will admit ...” His gaze grows more serious. “Part of the reason I like matching is because it makes me happy to walk around wearing the same thing as you. Like we’re a unit, you know?”

Your heart skips a beat at the soft vulnerability in his voice. “Max Verstappen, you big old romantic,” you tease gently.

He shrugs but you can see the pleased look in his eyes. Sudden understanding washes over you.

“Wait a minute … is that why you got me the same outfit the first time? Not just because you thought it would be easier, but because you wanted us to match?”

Max stays silent for a moment before breaking into a sheepish grin. “You caught me.”

“Oh my god!” You shove his shoulder playfully. “You big sap!”

“What can I say? I like having my girl on my arm looking like the power couple we are,” Max says, pulling you close again. “Fashionably challenged or not.”

“If only everyone out there making you out to be the villain could see the cuddly teddy bear you really are. I absolutely love it,” you murmur, stretching up to kiss him. You can feel him smile against your lips.

As you break apart, Max squeezes your hand. “Come on, let’s go celebrate. In new matching outfits, of course.”

You pretend to roll your eyes exaggeratingly but allow him to lead you towards the exit, your hands intertwined. You truly wouldn’t have it any other way.

***

You and Max are curled up on the couch in your hotel room, his arm draped around you as you lean into his side. It’s a rare quiet moment between races and you’re savoring the feeling of Max’s fingers gently carding through your hair.

“Hey Max?” You say after a few minutes of comfortable silence.

“Hmm?” He hums in response, not looking away from the football match on the TV.

“I got an interesting offer today.”

That piques his interest and he turns his head to look at you. “Oh yeah? What kind of offer?”

You take a deep breath before answering. “A sponsorship deal, actually. From Oscar de la Renta.”

Max raises his eyebrows in surprise. “Wow, that’s … really great, liefje. I’m so happy for you.”

But something in his tone makes you frown slightly. “Are you though? You don’t sound that excited.”

He gives you a half smile. “No, no, I am! That’s a huge opportunity for your career and image. Having that kind of sponsorship deal is amazing.”

“But?” You prod knowingly.

Max lets out a breath, smile fading. “But I guess part of me is a little disappointed and maybe … worried?”

“About what?”

“Well,” he shifts uncomfortably. “I like being the one who picks out your outfits for the races. Our little unintentional matching tradition has kind of become my thing, you know? I’m worried if you get sponsored by some big designer brand you won’t wear the outfits I pick out anymore. That we won’t match.”

His tone is carefully casual but you can hear the undercurrent of vulnerability. Your heart clenches in your chest.

“Oh Max ...” you murmur, reaching up to cup his cheek. “You really like our matching outfits that much?”

He averts his eyes but nods. “Yeah. I know it sounds silly, but I just … I like how in sync we are. How happy it makes me feel when we show up to the races looking like a real team. Like we’re truly partners in everything. I don’t want to lose that.”

The softness in his voice breaks your heart a little. You take his hand and give it a squeeze.

“You have no idea how happy I am to hear you say that,” you tell him gently. “Because I never would have accepted that offer anyway.”

Max blinks in surprise. “You wouldn’t?”

You shake your head. “Not a chance. First of all, they were pressuring me to only wear very high-end stuff, none of which really feels like my personal style. But more importantly ...” You lean in closer, maintaining eye contact. “They don’t have a men’s collection. So they couldn’t sponsor you too.”

Realization lights up his gaze. “Oh ...” he says softly.

You nod. “Exactly. I told them thanks but no thanks. Because no designer wardrobe is worth giving up what we have.”

Max looks stunned. “You … you turned them down? Just to keep matching with me?”

“Of course I did,” you say affectionately, poking his chest. “I would never give that up. How could I say yes to some fancy sponsorship that meant not having my fashionably challenged other half by my side, both looking like total goofballs in the one outfit the world thinks makes up the entirety of our closet?”

A slow smile spreads across his face and he pulls you into his arms, hugging you tightly. “God, I love you,” he murmurs into your hair. “So much.”

You relax into his embrace, overwhelmed by the rush of affection. “I love you too,” you whisper. You pull back slightly to look at him. “Did you really think I’d give up matching with you over that?”

“I don’t know,” he admits, looking a little sheepish. “I guess a small part of me was worried maybe you’d be tempted by the glamor and exposure of being a designer brand ambassador.”

“You know me better than that,” you affirm. “Our matching looks are too special to me. I adore everything about our little tradition — the fact that it started because neither of us cares about fashion, to you always picking out my outfits, and how happy it makes both of us to show up to races coordinating with each other.”

You take Max’s hand, intertwining your fingers. “Don’t you see, my love? It’s not really about the clothes at all, it’s about us. About how perfectly aligned we are in this little part of our lives. And I wouldn’t change that for the world.”

Max’s eyes have gone suspiciously bright, his free hand reaching up to cradle your face. “But liefje … you could have had any designer clothing you wanted.” His voice is thick with emotion. “You turned that down … for me?”

Unable to find the words, you just nod, blinking back your own tears.

“I can’t believe it,” Max breathes out shakily. “You never cease to amaze me.”

You offer him a watery smile. “Well believe it, my love. Because there’s nothing in the world more precious to me than you and our bond. I wouldn’t sacrifice that for anything.”

A single tear escapes to trail down Max’s cheek and you quickly brush it away with your thumb. Seeming at a loss for words, he pulls you into a fierce hug, tucking your head under his chin as you settle into his embrace.

“I love you,” he finally whispers into your hair. “So damn much.”

“I love you too.” You pepper kisses along his neck and jaw until you reach his lips, capturing them in a deep, slow kiss that tries to convey every unspoken word of devotion and adoration.

When you finally break apart, Max gazes at you with an intensity that makes your breath catch.

“God, you really are perfect,” he murmurs, running a hand reverently through your hair. “I’m the luckiest man in the world.”

“No,” you shake your head with a soft smile. “I’m the lucky one. To have someone who loves me so fiercely, someone I love just as much in return.”

Max lets out a watery chuckle. “I think we’re both the lucky ones then.”

You settle back against his chest as he wraps his arms securely around you. For a while neither of you speaks, lost in your own thoughts as you simply bask in each other’s presence. You let your eyes drift shut as Max’s fingers resume their gentle motions through your hair.

Eventually you break the silence.

“You know we’re going to have to get even cuter matching outfits now to make up for it,” you murmur teasingly.

Max’s chest rumbles with laughter against your cheek. “Deal. Anything you want, schatje. I’ll make sure we’re the most adorable fashionably challenged couple at every single race from now on.”

You smile at the warmth and conviction in his voice. “No one could ever call us uncoordinated.”

“Never,” Max affirms, dropping a soft kiss to the top of your head. “We’re perfectly matched in every way that matters.”

You sigh contentedly as you snuggle further into his embrace. In that moment, you know he’s absolutely right. You couldn’t imagine a better match than your Max.

[wisteriaiswriting]

Soldier and Medic dating a short feisty reader

Short and Feisty S/O

Words: 734

Swearing: 1 in Soldier | 2 in Medic.

This motherfucker only enables and encourages anything you do.

He’s also considered one of the more ‘feisty’ mercs. (He’s not very short though.)

So he’s always more than willing to join you on anything you do.

You’re now never able to go anywhere alone. (Could be him or one of his raccoons.)

Whenever you two are in battle he’ll try to stay near you, but can never guarantee it.

Isn’t someone who will purposely tease you about your height.

While he does occasionally make remarks he doesn’t even realise he does.

Likely you’ll just climb onto something if you can’t reach, so he’ll stand back, announce his appearance but only watch in case.

If you ask though he will grab you the needed item.

Quickly enough into the relationship he gave you your own helmet. (Your initials are carved on the inside.)

Also given a title. (You’re now Captain, no fighting him on this.)

He’s the type of guy to just throw you over his shoulder.

Nothing is making him drop you. (Maybe, just maybe if Demoman asked.)

***

“UH, SOLLY!”

Hearing his name yelled from down the hall, he swiftly poked around the corner. Finding Engnieer looking worried as he looked around, jumping when he noticed the familiar helmet looking back at him.

“We kinda need your help out ‘ere.”

“WHAT’S WRONG MAGGOT?”

Engineer scratched his chin for a few seconds before opening his mouth, only to be cut off by the door next to him –which led outside– being slammed open. Missing him by mere inches, and the person that came through was, unknowingly to him, the cause of this problem. You.

In your tightly grasped hand, was a hat. Specifically Sniper’s. Not sparing a glance back at Dell as you saw Jane. Rushing off and away from the door just in time for Mick to rush through, unable to grab you as you moved. Only now did Jane realize what was happening.

Standing taller as you successfully got away, taking your spot right behind him. Peering out to see Mick sigh, hunched over as he walked away. So did Engineer, not before he gave the last words.

“Just make sure it gets returned in the same condition.”

He will actually encourage you from time to time.

It’s the fact he still needs time away from… you and everything you're doing.

He’s more ‘feral’ than feisty on the field. (Also off the field, when doing his medical things… Even you stay away from all that.)

Is 100% a teaser.

This fucker won’t shut up about everything, especially your height and specifically the height difference.

Internally panics if he ever catches you climbing on things.

He’ll rush over to pull you off (Most times he puts you down, but now always.) before grabbing the thing himself.

Majority of the time Archimedes will stay away from you. (Whether Medic says so or not, who knows?)

Climb this bitch.

He will freeze in his steps and shut down, a great tactic if he’s teasing you.

Will never stop thinking about it until he dies. (But even being in hell doesn’t stop him.)

Has offered to increase your height by… some sort of means alright. (Many times mind you.)

Gained the habit of just grabbing you, by one of two ways. Either like a cat, holding you so he’s out of reach. Or under his arm, where he has gotten stratched.

Has and will speak German to you, especially if you don’t understand it. He enjoy’s watching you become more and more riled up over it.

***

Anyone who walked near Medic’s office could only hear noises, all of which shouldn’t be happening in any medical office. But unless they took a look in they could only guess who was messing about, with those guesses being you bothering Medic.

He could focus with all the ruckus you were making, seemingly interested in the most basic objects in the room. All before dropping them not where they belonged. Cupping his face in his hands as he muttered something, which you could only assume was about you. Unaware of you hearing him and now interested in his words.

“What ‘cha just say?”

“Sie sind unausstehlich…”

Hearing you huff in response to his words.

“Fine, if you won’t tell me I’ll ask someone else!” Medic only looked up when he heard his office door shut and the faint shouting of, “HEAVY!”

***

Sie sind unausstehlich - You are obnoxious

[nurse-floyd]

One Giant Leap

Pairing: Danny x Reader

Warnings: none

For @vivwritesfics who requested more horse girl!dad Danny!

Danny is a girl!dad and isn’t too happy his daughter is taking part in such a dangerous sport (hypocrite much!)

When Danny imagined his child, he was sure he was going to get them into karting. He could imagine it as clear as day: him and his kid in a little race suit and matching helmet. He was used to high speeds and dangerous sports. However, nothing compared to the sheer terror he felt as he watched his little girl climb on top of a beast (it wasn’t a beast, just a perfectly respectable-sized horse for his baby girl).

“Daddy, look at me!” his daughter Lila called out with glee as she walked around the ring, holding her arms out to the side to show how good her balance was.

By this point, he was white-knuckling the fence as he smiled back. “I see you, princess! You’re doing so well!” he shouted, hoping his smile didn’t look as forced as it felt.

Beside him, you placed a calming hand on his shoulder. “She’s fine, Danny. She loves it, and she’s really good at it.”

“I know, I know,” he replied, not taking his eyes off his daughter, who was now holding on to the reins confidently and rising up and down as the horse trotted around the ring with perfect balance. “She’s just so small, and horses are so big.”

“Now you know how I feel every time you get into that car,” you chided.

Just then, your daughter let out a giggle, “Faster!”

“She gets it from you, you know. She’s fearless. Besides, she’s been taking lessons for a few months now, and her instructor says she’s a natural.”

Danny took a breath to steady his nerves. You were right. Lila was a natural. He watched as she kicked her little feet and held on tight as the horse began to canter around the ring, flying past the fence where they stood. It still did nothing to stop his worry, and he knew he’d always feel it. That was his little girl.

His panic only grew when he watched as her instructor pulled out a few poles and barrels.

“Is she going to jump?”

Lila’s face, however, was lit up with joy. You may have kept this part quiet from Danny, not telling him she’d progressed onto pole work and she’d be jumping for fear of him talking her out of it.

He watched as Lila lined up her horse, her tongue poking out in concentration as her instructor reminded her of her positioning and helped her set up. You got your phone out, ready to capture the moment as Danny worked on taking deep breaths, not sure whether he should look or not.

You heard his breath catch in his throat as the horse’s hooves left the ground and your daughter flew over the tiny jump with ease.

“Well done, Lila!” you called out, giving her a little whoop of encouragement.

Danny’s voice cracked beside you, “Well done, love bug!”

“You’re going to have a heart attack if you keep this up,” you teased as you rubbed at his back again. “Look at her, she’s amazing!”

Daniel’s breath caught in his throat every time the pony’s hooves left the ground. He could feel his pulse in his ears, each jump a silent test of his endurance. “I can’t help it,” he whispered. “That’s my little girl; I’ll never stop worrying.”

“She’s just as strong and capable as you are behind the wheel,” you reminded him.

Danny nodded and smiled, pulling you closer to his side as the jump was altered just a little bit higher. You gave him a reassuring squeeze.

“I guess I’m just going to have to get used to it.”

“You will,” you replied.

You both turned your attention back to your daughter as she lined up her pony once again, cantering towards the jump before she flew over it again.

Danny’s heart was full of so much love and pride for his daughter in that moment, almost enough to push his fear aside. “God, she really is amazing, isn’t she?”

You nodded, “Just like her dad.”

As she came back to a trot and turned into the middle of the school to signal the end of her lesson, you leaned back into Danny’s embrace, his arms coming to wrap around your middle. “Well, I think this is a cause for some ice cream, a reward for her bravery… and her dad’s,” you added with a gentle elbow to his ribs.

“Sounds like a plan.”

Later that afternoon, with your scoops of ice cream and extra sprinkles for Lila, she couldn’t stop excitedly chatting about how thrilled she’d been to finally jump.

“Did you see me, Daddy? We were jumping SO high!” she emphasized with a little jumping motion with her hand.

“I did, sweetheart. You were incredible,” he replied, his voice filled with so much pride.

He was sure he was never going to stop worrying about her, and he knew he’d need you by his side again every time those jumps got higher or more were added to the course, but he wasn’t going to stand in the way of what she loved.

[yanderederee]

MeetMyGang

April25th, 2004

a/n: Please enjoy!!♡ // BajixTutor!Reader series // ct:fluff

lol lowkey inspired by this behind-the-scenes clip of the live action actors having a push-up contest!

before › now! › after

Just after the events of Rooting for You!

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯✦

“Bring her by next meeting,”

Mikey ordered.

Baji sweat under the intense seriousness Mikey was radiating.

“It’s really not what you think, M-“ Baji tried to disagree, but Mikey simply wasn’t taking no for an answer.

This was an order, not a request.

“I just wanna meet her!” Mikey pouted. “Anyone who can get You to stop on a rampage is worth meeting.” Draken agreed, smirking at Baji. “It’s not everyday we get to see Baji Keisuke shy,” Mitsuya shoved Baji playfully. “She’s got to be a saint of some kind to put up with your stubborn ass!”

Baji groaned, glaring at each and every one of the Toman founders, who were simultaneously grinning wickedly back at him.

“I said, no.”

He was determined.

Everyone went quiet, and soon all eyes landed to the ominous aura in the air: all eyes on Mikey.

Baji wasn’t budging.

“Fine,”

Mikey shrugged, outwardly appearing indifferent. “Not like I can force you.”

And that was it.

The meeting ended.

That was way too easy.

Baji didn’t have a good feeling, when the room started to file empty.

“Good luck,” Draken, the last person in the room, had sighed, before leaving Baji in a cold sweat.

— April27th, 2004

“Hmm~mh-mm~”

Whisper

“Who is that guy?”

“I’m not sure, be looks like he’s waiting on someone…”

“He kinda looks.. like a delinquent, doesn’t he?”

“Well he’s driving a bike, so…”

“Maybe he’s waiting on a girlfriend?~”

“Don’t joke like that! Who would even…”

Whisper

“Yyy/nn-chinnn~ y/n-chin~” Mikey whistled to himself, scanning the ocean of student heads while he wait leisurely on his CB250.

Baji was PISSED.

“What is that guys deal?!”

“Who?” You asked, behind him like a little duckling.

“No one!” Baji bit back full force, practically red, trying to hide Mikey from your window viewing pleasure.

Barely taken aback, if at all, you hummed casually before shrugging. “Guess I’ll go find out ~” you gathered the last of your materials before pulling your bag neatly over your shoulder and starting your way towards the door.

“Wait!” Baji tried stopping you, but just as he reached for your hand to try and halt you, you did a quick sprint to the door, avoiding his touch. You grinned wickedly, yet so sweetly, actually, wait, what was with that giggle? He was so caught up in how cute you looked giggling at his bewildered expression, that he lost sight of you completely.

“Shit, wait, y/n!! “ he yelled, trying to make quick work to catch up to you. His glasses slid, the frames blocking his vision only for a moment, enough to make him bump against the door way in his quick pursuit.

“Damnit, Chifuyu!” Baji yelled, and up popped Chifuyu’s blond helmet. “Yes sir!”

“Don’t let Mikey get ahold of Y/n!” He ordered, and just like a good subordinate, Chifuyu clicked his heels. “GOT IT!”

As Baji and Chifuyu both went different directions, Ryusei couldn’t contain his laughter. “What the hell is going on?”

Just outside the school entrance, you snuck to-and-fro between mingling students to make sure you went unseen.

You were just curious after all. Baji never wanted to introduce you to any of his friends, and while it wasn’t like you two were dating, but you were curious about Baji’s personal life.

About his super cool biker gang friends!

You peeked a spying eye out past the gate, scanning the area to spot the culprit of Baji’s stress. It didn’t take long, given the low rumbling of an engine.

Biking boots.

Loose black trousers.

A white belt.

An oversized white v neck, shoulders covered with another school’s jacket. Not the same Tokyo Manji uniform you’d seen just the other day.

And as your gaze wandered to meet the face of this lazily dressed delinquent, you made direct eye contact with Manjiro Sano.

Your heart stopped. What kind of presence was this, that you were feeling? It felt like the wind had been knocked right out of you. Your lungs deflated and suddenly you were lightheaded. Were you holding your breath? Why couldn’t you breathe? Why was he looking at you so intently? Like you were—

“Y/n!” Whispered Chifuyu, bringing you back to reality.

But just before he got his hands on you, so had Mikey.

“Y/n-chin!~ there you are, I was looking for you!” Mikey laughed happily, his bike’s kickstand having been shoved in the ground with haste.

“Too late, shit-“ Baji hissed, just making it in time to witness Mikey holding your hands in his with glee. “C’mon, before your boyfriend snatches you away,” Mikey grinned at you, then glancing at Baji, who seemed to hear every word.

“You low hanging bastard! Don’t you dare—“ Baji started, but it was too late before Mikey was pulling you past your restrains- over and onto his bike, sitting in front of him.

“WHAT THE HELL!” School be damned, Baji couldn’t hide the hot rage that came from Mikey’s overstepping. But even when he tried reaching the two of you, Mikey was already throttling the gas.

The last thing Baji saw of you was your mildly worried expression.

“Seee ya~” Mikey laughed, so so very clearly amused, before riding away full speed.

“Mikkkeeeeyyyyy…” Baji was boiling over, further and further as the day went on.

Couldn’t he just respect one thing? One? Baji said no, No, damnit!

“Baji, we should follow them,” Chifuyu spoke, as though there wasn’t all hope lost. “C’mon.”

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯✦

“‘The hells your problem, knock it off!” Baji yelled.

Everyone was just surrounding you— trying to get a look at Baji’s Girlfriend. Or, that was the rumor.

“Baji-San has a girlfriend?!”

“No way! She’s just his tutor!”

“But he brought her here! That’s strange!”

“It’s unlike Baji to bring someone…”

“Shh he’ll hear you!”

“I didn’t say anything wron—“

“QUIT WHISPERING I CAN HEAR YOU BASTARDS!”

Baji groaned. This was the worst.

Chifuyu had good intentions, bringing you around to get a better understanding of who Baji really was, the side of him you didn’t know anything about.

And now here you were in the heart of it, and you looked amazed.

“Is that a real tattoo?” You asked one of the guys, peeking when the thug drew back his sleeve to show it off. “No, fuck off.” Baji pushed past, taking you away from the crowd.

“H-hey! Baji,” you tried to argue, but he wasn’t having any of it. “Don’t care, we’re leaving.”

*reader begins using Baji instead of Kei/Keisuke while in front of his friends, to avoid being seen as disrespectful*

“Woah woah! Where’s the fire!” Smiled a nice looking boy with short hair and a cross earring. “You must be the famous Baji charmer,” he opened his hand to you, to which you shook politely. “Name’s Mitsuya, Mitsuya Takashi.”

“Nice to make your acquaintance Mitsuya-san, I don’t much about charming, but I do my best to keep Baji on top of classes.” You giggled.

Mitsuya paused, starring at you for a while, charmed. Quickly, he looked back up to smirk at Baji. “Lucky bastard.” He almost soluted before giving your hand a final squeeze, and backed off.

But you were a popular guest star, it was only a matter of time before you were swept away again. Much to Baji’s dismay. In the crowd of delinquents, it was getting hard to keep track of where you were being taken.

“Chifuyu, I’m about to lose it.” Baji informed, ready to throttle the next guy who put his hands on you. Chifuyu gulped. “J-just, hang tight boss!” He groaned, dreading the turn of events.

“I-is THAT a real tattoo?” You gasped, the next time you were spotted was with Draken, who was crouching for your convenience and chuckling at your bright eyed excitement. “I-is it a dragon? How cool!” You threatened to trace the ink outline.

“Ken Ryuguji, nice to meet you,” Draken had introduced himself, now standing up to full height.

“Wow, even your name means dragon? That’s kind of bad ass, right?”

Draken laughed, like you’d just said a hilarious joke. “It is bad ass isn’t it!” He laughed even harder. “She’s great, you should’ve brought her around sooner, Baji!”

And while Baji was off fuming, you stood there happily content.

“Hey, yaknow, I’m like, way stronger than Baji, right?” Mikey grinned, leaning in for a fake flirty gesture. Stalking you like a shadow, Mikey’s been having you make your rounds, all within his own supervision.

Mikey did find you rather adorable, after all.

Mikey liked the way you handled yourself, composed and confident in a crowd of scary looking thugs. He liked the way you respected them and treated them in a friendly manner. But Mikey really liked the way you smiled, the lovesick doe eyed puppy that adored Baji. He knew you and Baji were in the process of becoming an item.

But you weren’t yet, so he thought it no harm to pseudo flirt before Baji could have a valid reason to tell him off.

“I saw the way you kick! I was really impressed,” you praised him with an admiration. “Considering Baji is the strongest person I know, I suppose I’ll have to take your word for it.”

This seemed to light a fire in Mikey. “Oh no, take more than just my word. Baji! C’mere so I can kick your ass!” He joked loudly.

Baji was almost thrilled when he finally found you again. And what made it all the better was the way you jogged over to be by his side.

Your presence alone was enough to allow him catch his breath.

When he looked down at you to assess your comfort levels, what with being pawned around like a shiny new toy, he was released to see your carefree smile.

“I’m also way stronger than Baji, by the way.” Out spoke Pah, almost startling you.

“Oh really? Maybe we should test which one of us is the strongest!”

“Stupid~, I’m just gonna win! Don’t even bother,”

“Now that’s a challenge I think I’ll take you up on.”

“What the fuck is wrong with you guys!”

…

And that’s how you ended up refereeing Toman’s first official strength and endurance competition.

Between Mitsuya and Draken, you made sure both of them seemed prepared enough for your the starting signal.

“… Go!”

And in traditional arm wrestling fashion, the twin dragons fought with all their strength, gripping for dear life to not be the loser.

They had a good few seconds of beefing back and forth, but soon became obvious it was Draken’s game.

“No fair! No one can beat Kenchin at arm wrestling! This is rigged!” Mikey yelled from the sidelines, not eager to be the one to follow up.

Next in the lineup, they wanted to try push ups. All ready in position, in a line so everyone was visible.

It didn’t take them long to tire themselves out— only a few seemed like they never would stop.

“Just give it up Mikey, I ain’t losin’ to you!” Baji huffed out, still fighting Mikey’s childish need to win. “You’re just sayin’ that cause you’re getting tired~ I could keep this up for hours!” Manjiro quipped back with barely a huff of exertion at all.

All that remained was Mikey, Baji, Draken and Chifuyu. Though, just as they rounded off to the fifteen minute mark, Chifuyu practically lost consciousness. And Draken honestly started getting bored.

“This is fun ‘n all, but don’t you guys have better things to do?” Out emerged another girl, with long blond hair. A wide smile bloomed over your features when you saw her.

“W-wow, you’re like, really pretty… Oh! Um, s-sorry, hi, I’m–“ you tried to introduce yourself, but Emma already knew. “Y/n, yeah, heard lots about you just from passing through.” She held out her hand to you, smiling in unison.

You shook her hand happily, “So, is it true?~ Are you and Baji shacking up?~” she whispered with a grin. Your face heated up dramatically at her question and shook your head. “No! No, n-not like that! We just go to school together!” You defended.

“Hmm~ if you say so.” She let off. “I’m Emma, by the way. Mikey’s my brother, if you couldn’t tell.”

You blinked a few times, turning the idea in your head. “Oh, that makes sense! You guys do look alike!” You nodded, and looked over at Baji and Mikey still squabbling on how to settle the score.

“Oi! Come on! We ain’t got all night!” Draken called to them, now that he finally had his fill of the excitement. “Just settle it with a good ol’ fashion fist fight and be done with it!”

Both Mikey and Baji huffed out some kind of reply, to their feet. “I’m so going to kick your ass.” Baji glared at Mikey. “Oho~ I’d like to see you try.” Mikey grinned back.

“Are they always this competitive?” You leaned closer to Emma in inquiry. “Yes, literally all the time.” She replied quickly, a unanimous nod waving over all else who heard the question.

That made you smile.

Overlooking the petty little dispute, you couldn’t help but feel warm inside. Before, you’d only ever seen Baji with a mild temper, holding his tongue and being the voice of reason in some cases. His thick rimmed glasses hid half his face, and you’d have never guessed his hair was actually as long as it was with the way he tied it back.

You began to fall for him ever since you saw the way he took such good care of the injured kitten, barely a month ago. You began noticing the cracks in the character he played up, and found it cute. The way he would stifle curse words, diverting his ever growing tempter.

Until eventually he began also showing interest in you as well. Meeting you anytime you asked for his presence, gradually asking you more about yourself, and reassuring you about things you couldn’t control.

This, too, was Baji Keisuke. Hot tempered, brash, snarky, confident, handsome… you knew you liked Baji before you knew how he really got along. He was a gentle person underneath it all. He loved animals, just as they loved him back.

Would you have feared him, if you saw this side of him before meeting him in school? Surely not, you’d been surrounded by delinquents for the last hour, and felt no discomfort whatsoever. That had to mean something, right?

“You got this, Baji-san!!” Chifuyu yelled out, snapping you out of you day dream. Everyone was cheering all around you as the fight was in full swing. Push after hard punch, they were fighting for blood. It took you off guard at first, the blood, but this was normal for them.

A swift kick to the side of the head, a block to counter, Baji looped his arm around Mikey’s foot to falter his landing. Before he could meet the ground, Mikey used his palms to push off, and send his uninterrupted foot under Baji’s chin to clock him in an undercut fashion. That definitely had to hurt.

Yet they fought on. In amazement, you starred. With everyone else cheering, the hype of battle began building inside you, until you felt ready to burst. “I believe in you, Kei!” You yelled out. In front row, he definitely heard you. It felt embarrassing having a girl root for you so explicitly, but damn did it work to fuel the fight in him.

Baji grinned wide, regaining his composure. His next punch really hurt, you could tell. Mikey’s expression was a dead give away of that. “Damn, you really pack a punch whenever your girl’s involved,” he teased. “Maybe we should bring her around more often.”

“Try it,” Baji bit back, taking the initiative. The two have sparred so much in their life, they could read each other’s moves easily. And Baji knew Mikey was losing on purpose.

Sure, losing to Baji left a bad taste in his mouth, losing in front of you tasted even more bitter. But at the end of the day, Mikey knew Baji really cared about you. He would have chances in the future to sweep you off your feet and let you reconsider who you liked best. But for now, he wouldn’t dare ruin the glow of excitement that lit up that cute face of yours.

“Winner! Baaajiii!” Draken’s voice rang with a roaring hoot. All of Toman hooted back in response, all in good fun. Mikey could afford losing petty fights in front of his subordinates every now and again. He was still The Invincible Mikey, and he’d be sure to whip anyone who actually questioned that standing.

You jumped in excitement at the declaration, clapping for your classmate. “Way to go Kei!!” You called out happily.

Baji knew he won by default, but he didn’t really care to rebuttal the outcome. Not when you looked so happy. He grinned at you and rolled his eyes. “Had it in the bag,”

“Mmhm~ good fight.” Mikey chuckled past the two of you. “Meeting adjourned!”

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯✦

“See you ‘round!” Called out another Toman member, zooming past on their bike. You waved back politely, standing back while Baji worked on getting his bike ready to go. “Y/n~!” Emma caught your attention, hugging you warmly. “Nice to meet you, make it home safe, kay?” She smiled.

You smiled back. “I’ll be sure to do that! Make it home safe!” You waved her off when she hopped onto the back of Mikey’s bike. “Don’t be a stranger~” Mikey called back with a wide grin and a wave.

Baji rolled his eyes, and roared his engine. “Come on, I’ll give you a ride back home.”

You paused, worried. “Don’t you usually drive home with Matsuno?” You asked. Chifuyu grinned and patted your back. “Sounds weird having you call me that, just call me Chifuyu, alright?”

“And second, don’t sweat it! I can walk home just fine.”

You gave a weary look. “Well, if you’re sure..” you said uneasily. “Hop on,” Baji encouraged, leaning the bike to one side so you could get on easier.

A few attempts later, you only managed to get yourself situated onto the back of the bike by using Baji’s shoulder for leverage.

Holy shit, Baji only just realized. You were so close. Way too close. Chest pressed flush to his back, you shakily gripped the sides of his uniform. He could feel you breath against the back of his neck.

Your legs felt weird being so close to the hot metal of the exhaust pipe, but Baji assured you it was probably safe.

(*please wear a layer of fabric to separate your skin from touching exhaust pipes/bike motors! It can in fact burn you if you are not careful!)

“Don’t worry so much, you’re fine. You rode on Mikey’s bike just a while ago, right?” He tried reassuring you when he started for takeoff.

“Y-yeah but I was sitting in front that time!”

“You want to sit in front now?” He joked.

“Can I?”

“No, that’s dangerous as hell.”

You laughed. “Then why’d you ask?”

“It was radical.” He rolled his eyes. “Rhetorical!” You yelled back.

“Whatever.”

[gay-dorito-dust]

Jason’s 4 year old daughter gets sick and he takes care of her. Sick/comfort. Daddy/daughter moment hurt/comfort.

‘I can as soon as you called.’ Jason said as he barged into the room, roughly removing his red helmet and discarding it elsewhere, uncaring as to where it landed or whether it cracked upon impact.

‘What about-‘

‘Fuck patrol our babygirl is sick and besides Dick said he could handle it by himself.’ Jason replied as he rested his hands on either side of your face and pressed a kiss to your forehead. ‘You promised Dick that he could come visit Akira when she gets better didn’t you?’ You asked, smiling.

‘Yes i promised Dick that he could come visit Akira when she gets better.’ Jason signed, knowing that nothing gets past you.

You smiled at him and pressed a kiss to his cheek. ‘You’re such a softly.’

Jason scoffs. ‘Yeah because god forbid I don’t treat you and Kira like you both aren’t the two most precious people to me. Now where’s Kira?’

‘Daddy?’ Kira’s voice could be heard from behind her bedroom door, catching Jason’s attention immediately. ‘Princess?’ He asks as he walks closer to the door, his hand laid ready on the doorknob. How are you feeling princess? Daddy heard that you’ve gotten sick lately.’

‘I feel icky and gross.’ Kira replied and Jason couldn’t help but feel bad for his precious little girl. ‘Daddy feels icky too when he gets sick.’ Jason says, hoping to make her feel better. ‘I’m going to come in now is that okay sweetheart?’ He then adds and as soon as he hears a small ‘yeah’ he’s already opening the door and going inside, whereas you stayed close to the doorway incase you were needed to grab anything for Kira.

‘Hi daddy.’ Kira said, smiling weakly upon seeing him, silently holding out a hand to him for him to hold and Jason immeditly crumpled and obeyed his daughters wish as he sat on the side of the bed, holding her hand in his much larger one. ‘Hi baby.’ He practically has to whisper as to not make her headache any worse. ‘I’m sick and I hate it daddy.’ Kira whines as she tries to move out from the covers. ‘I know peanut but you’ve got to stay in bed and rest.’ Jason stops her and readjusts the covers so that there tightly tucked under her chin.

‘Will you stay with me?’ Kira asked and Jason knew that this would become a common occurrence in the future but he also knew that he wouldn’t care because he knew he’d do anything for you or Kira within a heartbeat. ‘Of course I will silly girl, I’m not leaving until you get better and when you do, guess who’s coming to visit?’ Kira visibly brightened as she gripped Jason’s hand tighter. ‘Uncle Dick is coming?!’ She exclaimed and for a moment Jason thought that she had been miraculously cured of her minor cold by just the mere mention of Dick, a thought that made Jason pout.

‘Yes, but only if you get better.’ Jason said and Kira snuggled herslef deeper into the bed for warmth and looked up at Jason. ‘I’ll get better. Promise.’ She said and Jason couldn’t help but smile and press a kiss to her forehead, uncaring if he were to get sick afterwards because then he’ll get to stay home and spend it with his small family. ‘I know you will sweetheart, now let’s get you some medicine and then it’s off the bed with you. Deal?’ Jason extends his pinky towards his daughter, who smiles and links her pinky with his. ‘Deal.’ She said.

‘Good.’ Jason replied as he then looked to you, only to see that you were well equipped for the situation and handed over the medicine to him with a smile. ‘You give her this and I’ll go and get some more blankets for Kira.’ You told him, moving further into the room to press a kiss to his cheek and a kiss to Kira’s forehead, before having to leave the room to find some extra blankets and to give Jason and Kira more time together when you heard them laughing together. Yeah she’ll get better soon enough under Jason’s care.