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orangeblossomsintheair · 5 months ago

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WRITTEN IN THE SAND | CS55

summary : He was too old for this. For you. For the way you looked at him like he wasn’t already years past the reckless abandon that seemed to define everyone else in this house. He shouldn’t have noticed the way your laughter sounded like sunlight, or how your smile seemed to tug at something deep in his chest.

wc : 8.5k

an : im a slow writer chat mb 😞 also nearly a month on this site!! tysm

“What’s the game plan for the summer?” Kika didn’t even glance up from her phone, one hand lazily stirring her drink with that tiny straw she always insisted on.

You were sprawled on a cushioned lounge chair in a swanky Monaco terrace bar, the Mediterranean sun heating your skin, but the breeze kept things just shy of unbearable.

You took a sip of your drink and smirked. “Seduce Carlos Sainz.”

Kika’s straw froze mid-stir. She blinked twice at her screen before slowly looking up, sunglasses sliding down her nose. “Sorry, could you run that by me again? Because I swear you just said you’re going to seduce Carlos Sainz, which is clearly a champagne-induced delusion.”

“Nope, you heard me loud and clear.” You leaned back, full of confidence. “Carlos Sainz. Mine. By the end of summer break.”

Kika blinked at you, deadpan. “Sweetheart, no offense, but you’ve been thirsting after this man since you were, what, 16? That’s six years of unrequited daydreaming.”

You squirmed slightly but held your ground. “Doesn’t matter."

"If he hasn’t noticed you by now, what’s your plan? Set yourself on fire in front of him?”

“Only as a last resort,” you said, deadpan.

She threw her head back, laughing so hard she nearly spilled her drink. “Oh my God, you’re serious. This isn’t a joke.”

“Dead serious.” You popped the cherry from your cocktail into your mouth like it was the period at the end of your sentence. “I’m done playing it safe. This summer is about action.”

Kika raised an eyebrow. “Action? You tripped over your own feet last week trying to order coffee. What are you going to do, hit him with your car and hope he falls for you during physical therapy?”

“Of course not.” You stood abruptly, tossing your straw onto the table with a dramatic flourish. “That’s plan B. Now come on.”

“Come where?” She squinted up at you, clearly unimpressed.

“To get the tools I need.” You grabbed her hand, yanking her out of her seat.

Ten minutes later, you dragged her into a boutique that was a Monet painting of excess. Silk curtains, chandeliers dripping with crystals, and the scent of overpriced jasmine perfume floating through the air.

A sales assistant appeared out of nowhere, all smiles and perfectly coiffed hair. “Bonjour, mademoiselle,” she greeted, eyeing your Chanel tote approvingly.

“Bonjour,” you said, breezing past her.

“Why are we here?” Kika asked, dodging a rack of bikinis that looked like they’d been designed with dental floss.

“Seducing my brother's teammate? Keep up, Kika,” you groaned, holding up a red bikini that looked like it belonged in a Bond movie. “Men are simple creatures. You can’t argue with science.”

“That’s not science, that’s objectification with a catchy slogan,” she deadpanned, plucking a neon green bikini off a nearby rack. “But sure, blind him with this and see how that works.”

You recoiled, snatching it from her and tossing it back like it burned. “Please. Focus. I need chic, sexy, and unforgettable. I need to haunt his dreams.”

“What you need,” she muttered, ducking under a display. “is a therapist.”

“And yet, here you are, enabling me.” You held up another bikini, black and sleek, with delicate gold accents. “This says, ‘I’m hot and I don’t care if you notice,’ right?”

Kika folded her arms, leaning against the counter. “It says, ‘I’m hot and definitely care if you notice but will pretend I don’t.’”

“Exactly!” you said, thrusting the bikini at her. “This is step one material.”

Kika frowned. “Step one material?”

“Yes. Step one: look absolutely irresistible,” you replied. “Carlos has seen me as Charles’s little sister for years. This summer, he’s going to see me as a woman. A very hot woman.”

“And you think this is going to do the trick? He’s a man, not a magpie.”

“Every detail matters. If I look stunning, he’ll notice me. If he notices me, he’ll talk to me. If he talks to me…”

“You’ll forget how to form a sentence?” Kika offered, smirking.

“...I’ll be charming and mysterious,” you continued, ignoring her. “Carlos loves a challenge. And I? I’ll be the challenge of the summer.”

She snorted. “You’re the challenge of my summer, that’s for sure.”

You flashed her a grin, unfazed. “Collateral damage.”

Kika raised an eyebrow, surveying your choices with a mixture of disbelief and mild concern. “You do know Charles is going to kill you, right? Or worse, he’ll tell your mother.”

“Charles doesn’t need to know,” you said confidently, grabbing a cover-up that was so sheer it might as well have been a polite suggestion of fabric and tossing it onto the pile.

“He’s going to know the second you start giggling like a schoolgirl,” Kika shot back.

You paused, giving her your most serious look. “I do not giggle. I smolder.”

Kika raised an eyebrow. “You giggle. You giggle like someone told you tacos are calorie-free.”

Before you could respond, the sales assistant, who had been lurking in the background with a grin wide enough to rival the Mona Lisa’s, swooped in. “Vous avez fait un excellent choix, mademoiselle,” she said, beaming. “Très… sexy.” You made an excellent choice, miss

You flashed a smile back. “Merci, ma chère,” you said, tossing her an air kiss. “I do try.”

Kika groaned audibly. “What is that? French for, ‘Please don’t let my stupidity kill me’?”

“Not quite,” you replied breezily, adding a sheer cover-up to the pile. “But close enough.”

The assistant’s smile widened to terrifying proportions. “Peut-être vous voulez essayer ces sandales aussi?” She gestured to a pair of sky-high gold heels that looked more weapon than footwear. Maybe you want to try these sandals too?

You tilted your head, admiring the craftsmanship. “Oh, I absolutely do.”

Kika slapped a hand over her face. “I can feel my soul leaving my body.”

“Catch it,” you said, handing over your credit card. “We have work to do.”

The assistant handed you your shopping bags with reverence, her eyes glittering with admiration. “Vous êtes une inspiration, mademoiselle. Vraiment.” You are an inspiration, miss. Really.

“Merci beaucoup,” you said, winking at her. You turned to Kika, your heels clicking on the marble floor as you strutted toward the exit. “

Kika followed you out into the sun-drenched street, muttering under her breath. “Mark my words, Carlos Sainz is going to look at you and-”

“-see the one thing he can’t have,” you finished for her, sliding on your sunglasses.

“The one thing he can’t have is peace.”

You scoffed. “You’ll swallow your words when you’re sitting front row at my wedding.”

“To Carlos or Charles’s ghost?”

“Whoever makes it there first.”

—-

The next step was getting Charles to invite Carlos over the summer, which, thankfully, proved embarrassingly easy.

"Sœurette," Charles sang as he sauntered into the living room, lifting your feet off the couch with all the grace of a forklift before plopping down dramatically. Your legs ended up sprawled across his lap. "Comfortable, are we?"

“Move,” you said, giving his stomach a solid nudge with your heel.

“Ow- merde!” He rubbed his abs like you had mortally wounded him, throwing in some exaggerated groans for good measure. “You’re cruel. No respect for your poor frère.”

“What do you want?” you mumbled, not looking up from your phone.

“Wanna go to Ibiza with me?”

You finally glanced at him, raising a skeptical brow. Sure, you wanted to, but seducing Carlos was still an active operation, and time was of the essence. “Pass.”

“Wait, wait,” Charles interrupted, holding up a finger like he was about to offer you the cure for boredom. “I’m inviting some of the guys. Pierre, Carlos-”

He hadn’t even finished the sentence before you were already mentally booking your plane ticket.

“-and Lando,” he continued, oblivious to the fact you had stopped listening at “Carlos.”

You forced yourself to stay cool. No big deal. Act normal. Charles couldn’t know

“Hmm. Okay.”

His brows knitted. “That’s it? Okay? No arguing? No ‘what’s the catch’? You’re just saying yes?”

“Don’t make it weird, Charles.” You shrugged, scrolling on your phone like you were barely paying attention. “Now get off me, you oversized cat.”

“Excusez-moi, I’m the one providing the luxury vacation, and you’re kicking me?”

“I’ll kick harder if you don’t move.”

—-

Carlos almost didn’t recognize the woman chatting with Lando by the poolside when he arrived at the villa Charles had rented for their summer getaway.

He lingered by the sliding glass door, his suitcase forgotten at his side. The sun cast shimmering patterns on the pool’s surface, reflecting onto your skin in flashes that made him question whether he was still half-asleep from the flight.

You were gorgeous. Too gorgeous. Scandalously gorgeous. And suddenly, Carlos felt a flicker of betrayal. How could Charles not have warned him about your presence here?

A wave of jet lagged self-awareness hit him—rumpled T-shirt, unkempt hair, and dark circles under his eyes.

Definitely not the first impression he wanted to make, especially not in front of you.

You wore a deep red one-piece swimsuit with an open back, the kind of effortlessly elegant choice that made him wonder if you knew exactly how much attention you commanded.

Sunglasses perched delicately on your nose, you stood at ease, laughing lightly at something Lando said.

“Carlos!” His friend called out, waving lazily when he spotted him. “You made it!”

Your voice was bright and warm, carrying over the quiet splashes of water.

Lando, predictably, was soaking up your attention with his signature grin, and Carlos already felt the prickling need to intervene.

You turned at the sound, shifting your weight onto one leg. Though the sunglasses obscured your eyes, the faintly mischievous smile tugging at your lips was enough to throw Carlos off balance.

Dios mío.

Carlos straightened, brushing a hand through his hair in a futile attempt to look less like he’d been dragged off a plane.

He inhaled deeply, summoning whatever charm the flight hadn’t stripped away, and stepped forward, dragging his carry-on behind him.

Your smile widened, but you said nothing, tilting your head as if appraising him.

“Hey,” he greeted, nodding at Lando first before letting his gaze linger on you.

“I don’t think we’ve met.” His voice dipped slightly, sliding into that smooth, natural lilt he knew could win people over when needed.

“Right,” Lando cut in, either oblivious or deliberately sabotaging him. “This is-”

“Let him figure it out,” you interrupted, holding up a finger with a playful air.

Carlos blinked, momentarily thrown off, but a sly grin found its way onto his face as he leaned on the handle of his suitcase. “Is that how it is?”

“That’s how it is,” you replied smoothly, folding your arms.

Lando chuckled, glancing between the two of you as if he’d stumbled upon the first act of a drama he couldn’t wait to watch unfold. “Good luck, mate,” he said, clapping Carlos on the shoulder before wandering back toward the pool.

Carlos watched him go, then returned his attention to you. “Okay, give me a hint. Something to work with, no?”

You shrugged, adjusting your sunglasses. “You’ve got a whole week to figure it out. Make it count.”

Before he could counter, a loud, familiar voice broke through.

“Carlos!”

Carlos turned, spotting Charles striding toward him with an easy grin. His friend pulled him into a quick hug, slapping his back affectionately.

Then Charles’ gaze shifted to you. He gestured casually. “You remember my sister, right? She hasn’t been at the paddock much, but you’ve met her before.”

He turned back to you, eyes scanning for something familiar, something to anchor the dissonance in his mind. There it was: the teasing smirk, the air of quiet confidence. You were now barely suppressing laughter.

Carlos froze mid-handshake, his thoughts scrambling to process the bombshell.

Sister?

Oh, no.

Oh, god.

He just flirted with Charles’ sister.

“You’re-” he stammered, pointing at you like the gesture might piece things together faster.

“Oh,” you said lightly, dragging out the word with unmistakable glee. “I think he remembers now.”

Charles glanced between you two, clueless. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” you replied too quickly, your smirk sharpening. “Carlos was just… introducing himself.”

Carlos rubbed the back of his neck, heat crawling up his face. “Right,” he muttered. “Nice to see you again.”

Your sunglasses slid down your nose just enough to reveal your eyes. Bright, amused, and entirely too focused on him. “I don’t know,” you said, voice like silk. “I feel like I’m meeting you for the first time, don’t you think?”

Lando’s loud laugh from the poolside made Carlos glance his way in exasperation.

But his real problem was standing directly in front of him.

Because now that he knew who you were, he also knew your age.

Twenty-one. And him? God, he was thirty. Nine years. Practically a decade.

He swallowed hard, his throat dry.

This wasn’t just an awkward misunderstanding; it was a moral minefield. He shouldn’t even be looking at you this way, not with the easy pull of your smirk still tattooed on his thoughts.

Carlos latched onto the excuse like a lifeline. “Yeah,” he said quickly. “Be right back.”

Charles, blissfully unaware, gave Carlos an out.

“Anyway,” he said, gesturing toward the house. “Go put your bags inside. Lando already claimed the biggest room, so you’re stuck with whatever’s left.”

Dragging his suitcase toward the villa, he could feel your gaze following him. Against his better judgment, he glanced back.

Carlos shook his head, muttering under his breath as he disappeared inside. He needed a cold drink, a cold shower. Anything to reset his brain.

You were still there, reclining on a lounge chair, the picture of confidence. A cocktail glass dangled from your fingers, the cherry swirling lazily in the liquid.

When your eyes caught his again, your smirk deepened, as if you knew exactly what chaos you’d caused.

This week was supposed to be about relaxing.

Instead, it was shaping up to be a survival test around you.

—-

Carlos had made his decision.

For the sake of his own sanity, and for the sake of his friendship with Charles, he was going to ignore you.

It was the only logical choice.

Because if he didn’t? If he let himself get caught up in whatever quiet game you seemed to be playing, he knew it wouldn’t end well.

You were too young, too vibrant, too untouchable. Like sunshine in a bottle.

He was too old for this. For you. For the way you looked at him like he wasn’t already years past the reckless abandon that seemed to define everyone else in this house.

He shouldn’t have noticed the way your laughter sounded like sunlight, or how your smile seemed to tug at something deep in his chest.

He’d lock it all down.

So that was it. He’d be polite, civil even.

But anything more than that? Off the table. No lingering glances. No indulging in the spark of mischief behind your eyes. No letting his thoughts drift to places they shouldn’t when you smiled his way.

It was a good plan.

Unfortunately, plans didn’t account for things like the spontaneous game of cards that had started on the patio that night. Or the dangerous way the stakes had escalated as the hours passed.

“What about strip poker?” Pierre had suggested with a mischievous grin, his words slurred just enough to suggest he’d had one drink too many.

Everyone had laughed, the idea absurd enough to feel harmless.

But somehow, after a lot of ribbing from Lando and an alarming lack of objections from anyone else, the game had actually started.

But tonight? Tonight, his carefully honed poker face was utterly useless.

Carlos had always considered himself good at poker.

Calm, calculating, unreadable. Qualities that served him well on the track and at the card table.

You were to blame.

Sitting across from him at the patio table, with your head tilted and a soft, amused smile tugging at your lips, you were impossible to ignore.

The warm glow of the overhead lights softened your features, and the lazy way you shuffled your dwindling pile of chips made it clear you weren’t taking the game half as seriously as he was.

You didn’t have anything.

Across from him, you hesitated, your lips pressing together as you studied your hand.

The chips in front of you were dangerously low, and Carlos could see the flicker of indecision in your eyes.

You sighed, reaching for your chips, but Carlos cut you off. “Raise,” he said, pushing more into the pot.

Your gaze snapped to his, your brows furrowing. “You’re raising now?”

“Got to keep it interesting,” he said lightly, masking the tightness in his chest.

You tilted your head, clearly suspicious, but you matched his bet anyway, your hand trembling slightly as you tossed the last of your chips in.

The others at the table were too busy bickering to notice the undercurrent between the two of you.

Lando, already down to his boxers, was arguing with Charles over the merits of bluffing, while Pierre leaned back in his chair, looking far too pleased with himself for someone whose pants were in the discard pile.

Carlos barely noticed them.

When the cards were revealed, his pair of eights was enough to beat your pitiful hand. A mismatched collection of low cards that hadn’t even come close to forming a straight.

“Guess that’s it for me,” you said, your tone light but resigned. You reached for the hem of your sweater, clearly ready to pull it off and join the ranks of the semi-dressed.

Carlos acted before he could think.

“Wait,” he said sharply, drawing everyone’s attention. “I fold.”

Pierre frowned. “You can’t fold. The round’s over.”

“Then I forfeit,” Carlos said, tugging his shirt over his head in one swift motion. The cool night air prickled against his skin, but he ignored it, tossing the shirt onto the growing pile in the center of the table.

You stared at him, wide-eyed. “You didn’t have to do that,” you murmured.

Carlos shrugged, forcing himself to meet your gaze. “I’m just keeping things fair.”

Charles raised an eyebrow but said nothing, and the game moved on.

It kept happening.

Every time you were on the verge of losing, Carlos found a way to sacrifice himself instead. He’d bluff too hard, bet too high, or simply fold when he was holding a decent hand. It was reckless and obvious, at least to you, but no one else seemed to notice.

By the time Carlos was down to just his jeans, he realized he was playing a very dangerous game.

“Bold move, mate,” Lando said, grinning as Carlos slid his last few chips into the pot.

“Desperate,” Pierre corrected, his tone smug.

Carlos ignored them, his gaze flicking to you. Your stack of chips had grown considerably, thanks to his strategic losses, but you weren’t gloating. If anything, you looked concerned, your brow furrowing slightly as you studied him.

“Carlos,” you said softly, barely above a whisper.

He shook his head. “I’m fine.”

You hesitated, then glanced down at your cards. The silence stretched as you debated your next move, and Carlos could see the exact moment you decided to fold.

Not this time.

“I raise,” he said, pushing his remaining chips into the pot.

Your eyes widened. “Carlos-”

“Call it,” he said firmly, his voice low.

The others were too busy watching the pile in the center of the table to notice the exchange between you two.

You sighed, finally revealing your hand. It was better than his, but not by much. He grinned as he tossed his own cards down, leaning back in his chair with a shrug.

“Guess that’s it for me.”

Charles groaned, muttering something under his breath about bad decisions, but Carlos didn’t hear him. His focus was on you, on the way your lips parted slightly in surprise, on the way your gaze lingered as he stood and pulled his jeans off, leaving him in nothing but his boxers.

“Next round?” Pierre asked, shuffling the deck.

Carlos shook his head, grabbing his shirt and tossing it at Pierre’s face. “I’m out.”

He glanced at you one last time before walking inside, his pulse racing.

—

When Carlos woke up the next morning, the first thing he noticed was the sunlight streaming through the thin curtains, warm and golden against the soft white of the sheets. The second thing he noticed was the blissful lack of a hangover, despite the absurd amount of wine Pierre had insisted on pouring last night. Small mercies, he supposed.

The faint sound of clinking dishes drew his attention. Throwing on a shirt, Carlos padded out of his room and into the kitchen, where he found Charles leaning against the counter, one hand wrapped around a steaming mug of coffee, the other scrolling through his phone.

His hair was a mess of sleep-tousled curls, and his voice still carried the rough edges of morning as he glanced up.

“Morning,” Charles said, holding up his mug in greeting. After a beat, he added, “Thanks, by the way… for last night.”

Carlos froze mid-step, frowning as he tried to piece together what Charles meant. “Thanks for what?”

Charles finally looked up, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. “You know,” he said, gesturing vaguely with his coffee mug. “For saving my sister a few dozen times.”

Carlos’ stomach dropped. “What?”

“You know,” Charles repeated, tilting his head slightly as if it were obvious. “During poker.”

“Oh.” Carlos shifted awkwardly, his fingers tightening on the toothbrush he was holding. He forced a casual shrug. “It’s fine. I’m just bad at poker.”

Charles snorted, setting his mug down on the counter. “Don’t give me that. I’ve seen you win against professionals before. People who actually know what they’re doing.”

Carlos busied himself with turning on the tap, wetting his toothbrush like it was the most fascinating task in the world. “I guess it just wasn’t my night,” he said lightly, though the way his pulse quickened betrayed him.

“Hmm,” Charles hummed, leaning back against the counter as he studied him. His expression was unreadable, but the weight of his gaze made Carlos’ neck prickle.

“You’re imagining things,” Carlos said, his voice a little too quick, a little too defensive.

“Am I?”

“Yes.”

Charles chuckled softly, shaking his head. “You’re not very subtle, you know. Every time she was about to lose, you suddenly went all in on terrible hands. It was painful to watch.”

Carlos groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “It wasn’t like that,” he muttered, though even to his own ears, it sounded unconvincing.

“Sure it wasn’t,” Charles said, his tone dry. He took another sip of his coffee, his eyes narrowing slightly over the rim of the mug. “You know, you’re lucky I trust you.”

Carlos froze again, the words hanging heavy in the air.

“Trust me?” he echoed carefully.

“Yes,” Charles said simply, setting his mug down and crossing his arms. “Because if it were anyone else, I’d be having a very different conversation right now.”

Carlos blinked, unsure how to respond. He could feel the heat creeping up the back of his neck, and for a moment, he considered denying it outright. But Charles wasn’t stupid. And Carlos wasn’t a good enough liar to get away with it.

So instead, he sighed, setting his toothbrush down and leaning against the counter opposite Charles.

“Look,” he began, keeping his voice low. “I’m not trying to... I mean, it’s not like that.”

Charles raised an eyebrow.

Carlos rubbed the back of his neck. “Okay, maybe it’s a little like that,” he admitted reluctantly. “But I wasn’t. Nothing’s happening, alright? I wouldn’t do that to you.”

Charles studied him for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Then, to Carlos’ surprise, his lips quirked into a small, knowing smile.

“I know,” he said simply.

Carlos blinked. “You... know?”

“Yes,” Charles said, his tone light but firm. “That’s why I’m not threatening to kill you right now.”

Carlos let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding, his shoulders relaxing slightly. “Thanks for that,” he said dryly.

“Don’t thank me yet,” Charles warned, his smile fading. “I trust you, Carlos, but I also trust her. And if you do anything to make her upset, I will kill you.”

Carlos nodded quickly, swallowing hard. “Understood.”

Charles nodded once, apparently satisfied, before grabbing his mug and heading for the door.

—

“Hey, sœur- what the fuck is that?” Charles called out from where he lounged on the sofa, still half asleep. His eyes were fixed on your bikini. “Is that... dental floss?”

You rolled your eyes dramatically, adjusting one of the straps. “Non, idiot. It’s a bikini. Fashion. I wouldn’t expect you to understand.”

He scoffed, leaning back, crossing his arms. “Fashion? Ça? Ça, c’est un crime. Who sold you that? A two-for-one deal with a pack of gum?”

“Ha ha. Très drôle,” you said dryly, walking past him toward the beach. “I didn’t ask for your opinion, monsieur modesty police.”

Charles held up his hands in mock surrender, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Okay, okay. But when the waves steal that little string you call swimwear, don’t say I didn’t warn you. Bonne chance.”

“Pfft,” you muttered, waving him off. “I’ll be fine.”

But, as you made your way down the steps to the sand, something felt odd. Charles hadn’t fought you on it.

No complaints about ‘covering up’ or embarrassing remarks about ‘respectability.’ No last-minute insistence on changing into something more “appropriate.” It was... new.

And oddly suspicious.

Wading further in, you let out a satisfied sigh, the gentle waves lapping at your legs. You dove under the water, resurfacing with a triumphant gasp.

You pushed the thought aside as you let the warm sand squish beneath your toes. The salty breeze tossed your hair, and the ocean called to you.

You dipped a toe into the water, pleased to find it perfectly cool.

For a while, you floated peacefully, content. Until one particularly aggressive swell caught you off guard.

You felt it immediately.

The tug of the water.

The loosening of straps.

Panic shot through you as you scrambled to grab the top of your bikini, but the slippery fabric slipped through your fingers and was swiftly carried away by the current.

You had two options: wade out and grab it, hoping no one was around to witness your embarrassing half-naked sprint… or stay hidden and pray it washed back on its own.

“Oh, merde! Non, non, non!” you hissed under your breath, frantically cupping your breasts as you scanned the empty beach for help.

It was still early. Too early for anyone else to be up and running and save you from this mortifying situation.

Your cheeks burned as you stood there, half-submerged in the water, desperately trying to figure out a plan.

Option one was looking more appealing until you heard the soft crunch of footsteps on sand.

Carlos.

Of course, it was Carlos.

Because fate had a sense of humor, and apparently, you were its favorite punchline.

He ambled out of the villa, a towel slung lazily over his shoulder, his dark curls sticking up like he’d just rolled out of bed. His face was adorably grumpy, the pout of someone who hadn’t had coffee yet. And then his gaze landed on you.

He froze.

You froze.

You tried to act casual. Well, as casual as one could while half-submerged, hugging their chest like they were reenacting a dramatic shipwreck scene.

Carlos’s frown deepened, concern flickering across his face as he took a hesitant step closer. “Are you… drowning?”

“Not drowning,” you chirped, your tone overly bright. “But thanks for checking!”

“Oh.” His voice cracked slightly. He cleared his throat, looking anywhere but at you. “Right. Uh… do you- want me to…?”

His brow furrowed. “Then why are you…?” His words trailed off as his eyes drifted to the water, where your bikini top bobbed lazily with the current.

Realization dawned like a slap, his cheeks instantly turning a satisfying shade of pink.

“Be my hero, Carlos,” you said with exaggerated sweetness, gesturing dramatically toward the water. “Save my dignity before the ocean claims it forever.”

He stared at you for a moment, his lips twitching like he wasn’t sure whether to laugh or groan. “Unbelievable,” he muttered under his breath before tossing his towel onto the sand and wading into the water.

You tried not to watch him, but… well. You were stuck here, and it’s not like there was much else to look at. The way his muscles flexed, the water slicking over his skin.

It was distracting. Infuriatingly distracting.

He resurfaced a moment later, holding up your bikini top like a trophy.

“Got it,” he called.

“Oh, congratulations, Captain of the Swim Team.” You clapped. “Now bring it here before someone else decides to take a morning stroll.”

Carlos swam back, wading into shallower water as he handed it to you. His smirked when you snatched it from his hand.

“Need help putting it back on, princess?”

You raised a brow. “Funny. Actually, yes.”

That wiped the smirk off his face.

“…What?”

You turned your back to him, holding out the tangled strings over your shoulder. “It’s all knotted. Be a gentleman, Carlos.”

He made a strangled sound. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“Nope. Chop-chop.” You wiggled the strings for emphasis.

Carlos muttered something in Spanish, but he stomped through the water toward you anyway. You could practically feel the heat radiating off him as his hands carefully took the strings.

His fingers skimmed over your bare skin, and your breath caught in your throat. Sharp and shallow.

“Stop fidgeting,” Carlos muttered, his voice rough with concentration.

“You’re taking forever.”

“It’s not exactly easy tying this thing without looking.”

“Look, then.”

Carlos froze.

The silence stretched.

You could feel his breath behind you, hot against the curve of your neck.

Slowly, deliberately, his hands tightened around the strings. Not painfully, just firm enough to make you gasp and spin around.

“Carlos!”

He didn’t flinch.

His dark eyes locked on yours, sharp and unreadable. Then, with a darkness you recognized, his gaze flicked to your lips and lingered.

Too long.

Your pulse stuttered.

“Carlos,” you warned, softer this time.

He didn’t move. Neither did you.

And then it happened.

His mouth crashed into yours, hot and demanding.

You barely had time to gasp before his arms wrapped around your waist, yanking you flush against him.

For a moment, the world dissolved. The waves, the sun, the beach. All of it disappeared beneath the heat of his kiss.

And then he pulled back, breaking the moment with a frustrated groan.

“We can’t do this,” Carlos said, his hands still gripping your waist.

“Sure we can.” You grinned, breathless, leaning closer. “We’re already doing it.”

His grip tightened as if he was trying to anchor himself. “I’m too old for this. For you.”

You rolled your eyes. “Oh, please. You’re thirty, not eighty.”

“That’s not the point,” he snapped, his voice rough. “You… You deserve someone younger. Someone who-”

“Someone who what?” you interrupted, your eyes narrowing. “Someone who’s scared of me? Who wouldn’t be able to handle me?”

“Someone who doesn’t know better,” he said quietly, his gaze dropping to your lips again.

You softened, leaning closer. “Maybe I don’t want someone who doesn’t know better.”

Carlos let out a strangled laugh, shaking his head. “You’re going to ruin me, you know that?”

“Good,” you whispered, brushing your lips against his.

For a moment, he gave in, his mouth claiming yours again, desperate and unrelenting.

But then he tore himself away, his chest heaving as he stepped back, the water lapping at his thighs.

“This is a bad idea,” he said, his voice rough.

“Carlos,” you said softly, stepping toward him.

His hands came up, stopping you. “You don’t get it. I can’t just-” He gestured between the two of you, struggling to find the words. “If this goes wrong…”

“It won’t,” you said firmly. “You’re overthinking it.”

For a long moment, he just stared at you, torn between caution and temptation.

“God help me,” he muttered before pulling you back into his arms, kissing you like he’d never stop.

“Oh, please. You like it.”

That did it.

Carlos groaned, a raw, frustrated sound, and suddenly his hand was in yours, gripping tight.

“Come on.”

“Where are we-?”

“Somewhere with fewer witnesses.”

You laughed, breathless and exhilarated, stumbling after him as he dragged you toward the rocky outcropping at the edge of the beach.

“Oh, now you’re worried about witnesses?”

Carlos shot you a look over his shoulder. “Yeah, well, I’m not tying your bikini back on twice.”

You snorted. “Coward.”

“Keep talking, and I’ll leave you naked out here.”

“Oh, threats!” You giggled, letting him pull you behind the rocks, the world disappearing behind towering stone and crashing waves.

And then he was on you again.

No hesitation, no teasing.

Pinned against the rough stone, your body trembling in Carlos’s firm grip, his mouth crushed against yours with a ferocity that left you breathless.

His hands slid over your waist, pulling you flush against him, the heat of his body searing into yours.

He kissed like he had all the time in the world. Like he was determined to take every last bit of air from your lungs.

You gasped, fingers clutching at his shoulders as he backed you harder into the rock, the scrape of it barely registering against the dizzying sensations he drew from you.

His lips left yours, trailing down your jaw, to the tender spot just below your ear, and you shivered as his teeth scraped lightly over your skin.

“God, Carlos-” you whispered, but the words broke off into a gasp when his hands slid under your thighs, lifting you higher against him.

“Mm.” His lips curved against your throat, and he hummed low, a sound filled with lazy amusement. His mouth worked along your neck, deliberate and unhurried, leaving your skin flushed and tingling.

When he finally pulled back, his eyes roamed over you.

Your swollen lips, your heaving chest, your thighs trembling where they rested against his hips. He tilted his head, the corner of his mouth curving up, the faintest smirk playing on his lips.

“Has anyone ever made you come with their mouth before?” he asked though he looked as though he already knew the answer.

The heat in your face intensified, your breath catching as his hands wandered down your thighs, teasing the edge of your bikini bottoms.

You tried to respond, but the words stuck in your throat, and all you managed was a small shake of your head.

His smirk deepened, a low chuckle escaping him as he brushed his thumb over your flushed cheek. “Didn’t think so,” he murmured. “You’re so damn pretty when you’re flustered. Cute.”

Your hips instinctively arched toward him, but he didn’t rush. He held you steady, hands firm but gentle, guiding you with a patience that only heightened the ache between your legs.

His lips found your collarbone, kissing and nipping lightly, as though savoring every inch of you.

When he finally moved between your legs, the sight of him looking up at you from between your thighs sent a fresh wave of heat crashing through you.

His hands spreaded you open with a careful precision that made your heart race. Carlos nudged you higher against the rock, shifting you into position, gaze sweeping over you like he was memorizing every detail.

“You’re shaking already,” he said softly, his voice edged with amusement as he pressed a kiss to the inside of your thigh. “Relax, baby. I’ve got you.”

You whimpered, fingers tangling in his dark hair as his lips moved closer, teasing, never quite giving you what you wanted.

His stubble scraped lightly against your sensitive skin, making you shiver, and when his breath fanned over your core, you nearly bucked against him.

“Please,” you whispered, your voice trembling, desperate.

Carlos’s low hum vibrated against your skin, and he pressed another kiss to your inner thigh, his smirk audible in his tone. “So needy,” he murmured, almost to himself.

Then, without warning, his mouth was on you.

The first long, deliberate swipe of his tongue over your clit drew a sharp cry from your lips, your back arching off the rock.

He didn’t falter. His tongue worked you with slow, measured precision, every flick and circle designed to draw you closer to the edge.

You tried to move, to grind against him, but his grip on your thighs tightened, holding you firmly in place.

He was relentless, alternating between soft, teasing licks and harder, more focused strokes that made your vision blur.

“Oh, f-fuck-” you gasped, your voice breaking, your fingers tugging harder at his hair.

He didn’t respond, didn’t lift his head, just let out a soft, pleased sound that sent vibrations through you, his mouth working you even harder. His fingers joined in, slipping inside you with ease, curling just right, hitting a spot that made you cry out.

The tension coiled tight in your belly, your entire body trembling as he brought you closer and closer. It wasn’t rushed, wasn’t frantic. Just steady, unshakable control, like he knew exactly what you needed before you did.

It was overwhelming.

The pressure, the heat, the way his tongue and fingers worked together. It all built into something you couldn’t stop, couldn’t hold back even if you tried.

Your body tensed, and with a broken moan, the wave crashed over you, leaving you shuddering, your thighs clamping around his head as he worked you through it.

Carlos didn’t stop until you were nothing but a trembling, breathless mess, every last tremor wrung from you.

Only then did he pull back, his lips glistening, his chin wet with you.

He lifted his head, hands brushing gently over your thighs as if to ground you.

He leaned in, his mouth finding yours in a slow, deliberate kiss that left you dizzy all over again. The taste of yourself on his lips only heightened the intimacy, the rawness of it.

“First time for everything, huh?” he murmured against your mouth, his tone low and teasing, though his eyes were warm, almost soft.

Your breath came in shallow gasps, your body still trembling, and as you looked at him, at the way he gazed at you with that infuriating, knowing smirk, you knew you were ruined.

You barely recognized your own voice when you whispered, “Fuck me.”

His eyes found yours, dark and hungry, his control fraying at the edges. For a brief moment, he stayed still, as though restraining himself, the tendons in his neck taut, his jaw clenched.

Carlos had you against the rock again in seconds, his hands firm on your thighs, his body pressing into yours with a force that left no room for hesitation. He moved without teasing this time, his lips crashing into yours.

Your fingers gripped his shoulders, your nails biting into the hard muscle beneath his skin as he angled you higher against the rock.

The rough scrape of it bit into your back, but the discomfort was drowned out by the searing warmth of him, his mouth moving down your jaw to your neck.

You tried to gasp his name but he didn’t give you time to finish.

He lifted you higher, spreading your thighs wider around his hips. The strength in his hands was almost dizzying, his grip unyielding as he shifted your body to his liking. When his lips trailed down your throat, sucking hard enough to leave marks, your head fell back, exposing more of your skin to him.

His swim trunks were gone in a moment, and when you glanced down, your breath hitched at the sight of him.

Thick, hard, and impossibly big, he stood there like he was made to ruin you. The sheer size of him sent a shiver through your body, heat pooling low in your belly as your thighs clenched involuntarily.

“You’re shaking,” he murmured, his tone low but soft, the edge of a smile playing at his lips as he reached for you again. “Relax, baby. I’ll make it fit.”

Your breath stuttered, your fingers clutching his shoulders as he lined himself up, the head of his cock pressing insistently against your entrance. The first push was slow, almost gentle, but the stretch was immediate, sharp, and overwhelming.

“Carlos,” you gasped, your voice breaking as your body struggled to take him.

“You can take it.” His jaw clenched as he pushed in another inch. “Just breathe, baby. Let me in.”

You did, your breaths coming in shallow pants as he fed you inch by inch. The stretch was nearly unbearable, your body clenching around him as if trying to resist.

He groaned, forehead dropping to your shoulder, hands steady on your hips as he worked himself deeper.

“You’re so tight,” he muttered, his voice strained as though the effort of holding back was physically painful. “So perfect.”

The fullness was overwhelming, the sheer size of him stretching you beyond anything you thought possible. He didn’t rush, didn’t force it, but every inch was a challenge, your body trembling as it adjusted to him.

Finally, he was fully seated inside you, the press of his hips against yours sending a jolt of pleasure and relief through your body. For a moment, he stayed still, his chest heaving against yours, his hands gripping your thighs so tightly you knew you’d feel the bruises later.

“Fuck,” he growled, his voice rough, his breath hot against your ear. “You’re so perfect. Made for me.”

You couldn’t speak, couldn’t think.

Your body stretched and full in a way that left you dizzy.

The ache was sharp but fading quickly, replaced by the thrum of pleasure that sparked with every small movement.

Then he began to move.

His hips pulled back slowly, the thick length of him dragging against your walls before he thrust forward again, burying himself deep.

The sensation was electrifying, your body tightening around him as he set a steady, deliberate rhythm.

Each thrust was measured, controlled, as though he was determined to make you feel every inch of him.

The pressure was unrelenting, his cock hitting spots inside you that sent waves of pleasure rippling through your body.

You clung to him, your nails digging into his back as his pace quickened, the strength of his thrusts leaving you gasping.

The rock behind you scraped against your skin with every movement, but the sting was nothing compared to the pleasure building inside you.

Carlos shifted, lifting you higher against him, angling his hips to drive deeper. The new position made you cry out, your head falling back as the sensations intensified, every nerve ending in your body alight.

“You’re incredible,” he murmured, his voice thick and rough, his hands tightening on your hips as he moved faster, harder.

The fullness, the stretch, the relentless rhythm. It was too much and not enough all at once. Your body trembled, your thighs shaking around his waist as the tension inside you coiled tighter, threatening to snap.

“Carlos,” you gasped, your voice breaking as your hands fisted in his hair, desperate for something to hold onto.

“Come for me,” he growled, his hips slamming into yours with unrelenting force. “Come on, be a good girl and come for me.”

His words sent you spiraling. The wave of pleasure crashed over you, your entire body trembling as you shattered around him.

Your cries filled the air, your walls clenching tight around him as the release ripped through you.

Carlos groaned, his rhythm faltering as he chased his own release. His thrusts turned erratic, desperate, and with a final, shuddering moan, he buried himself deep, his release spilling into you in a rush of heat.

For a moment, there was only the sound of your ragged breathing, the crash of the waves a distant echo.

His forehead rested against yours, his hands gentle now as they smoothed over your thighs, grounding you.

“Are you okay?” he asked softly.

You nodded faintly, your lips curving into a small, breathless smile. “I’m perfect,” you whispered.

He chuckled, his arms tightening around you as he pressed a soft kiss to your temple. “You’re going to be the death of me,” he muttered, his voice tinged with both amusement and awe.

“Then you’ll die happy,” you teased, your fingers brushing lightly over his jaw.

He smiled, his lips finding yours in a kiss that was slow, tender, and unhurried.

—-

Carlos insisted on carrying you back to the villa, effortlessly lifting you into his arms and wrapping a towel around you to shield you from the cool evening air.

You tried to protest, laughing half-heartedly while squirming a little in his hold, but his arms only tightened around you, pulling you closer.

The warmth of his body against yours was a welcome contrast to the crisp early morning air, and despite your teasing resistance, you felt a pull of affection.

“Carlos, no, seriously. I’m fine,” you said, attempting to push lightly against his chest. “You don’t have to carry me like this.”

“Shh,” he murmured, adjusting his grip to make sure you were even more comfortable, a slight smile tugging at his lips. “You’re not fine. I just fucked you, and so I’m taking care of you. Aftercare, baby. So stop fussing.”

You rolled your eyes at the sentiment. “Carlos, seriously. Charles is going to murder you if he sees-”

Carlos’ grin only widened, a spark of mischief lighting up his eyes. You could feel the confidence radiating off of him as he held you effortlessly, his voice dropping lower, laced with amusement. “Charles already knows.”

Your brows shot up, a mix of surprise and confusion flooding through you. “Wait, what? He knows?”

Carlos’ grin softened slightly, the playful edge in his tone giving way to a hint of sheepishness. "Yeah… Poker night.”

You blinked, the realization dawning slowly but surely. “Poker night?” You almost laughed at the absurdity of it. “Oh my god, you told him?”

“Well, he kind of guessed. And then, the next morning, he gave me the talk.”

You stared at him for a moment, blinking as the full weight of the situation sank in. “The talk? That talk?”

“The one and only.”

You snorted. “I can't believe you let him talk to you like that.”

Carlos raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying the banter. “Trust me, I wasn’t about to argue with him.”

You nestled into his chest, feeling the warmth of his body, and smiled up at him. “You’re lucky I don’t have a talk with you myself.”

He raised an eyebrow, a playful glint in his eye. “Oh? You’d have the talk with me too?”

You leaned in closer. “Maybe later,” you said softly, the affection in your voice undeniable.

Carlos’ grin softened as he held you just a little tighter. “I’ll be waiting for it, cariño.”

—-

Hours later, Lando and Pierre stumbled into the living room, bleary-eyed and still caught in the haze of sleep.

They froze in the doorway, blinking in surprise at the sight before them.

You and Carlos were both fast asleep, tangled together on the couch, your head resting comfortably against his chest. His arms were draped around you, one hand resting lightly on your waist, the other tangled in your hair as you slept soundly.

Pierre raised an eyebrow, his lips twitching into a grin as he cast a glance at Charles, who was sprawled across the couch like he had nowhere else to be.

Charles didn’t even look up, clearly at ease with everything happening. Pierre nudged him lightly, amusement dancing in his eyes. “You’re okay with this?” he asked, voice low but tinged with disbelief. “I mean, just like that? No big deal?”

Charles didn’t stir, stretching out lazily as if the whole situation was perfectly normal.

He met Pierre’s gaze with a smirk, the kind that only came with complete indifference to drama. “Are you seriously asking me that?” he drawled, as if the question were almost laughable. “Better than any of you, I’ll tell you that much.”

Lando, however, was having none of it.

He threw his hands up in mock exasperation, his dramatic flair coming to the surface even as he tried to stifle a yawn. “Hold up, hold up!” He pointed an accusing finger at Carlos, his voice raising slightly, though still laden with sleepiness. “I can’t even flirt with her without getting death threats, but Mr. Smooth Operator here gets to just waltz in and- what? -sweep her off her feet? No questions asked?”

Carlos stirred slightly at the noise, his arms tightening around you instinctively as he shifted to get more comfortable. His voice was low, heavy with sleep, but there was an undeniable warmth to it as he spoke, still gazing down at you with affection. “That’s pretty much it,” he muttered, the hint of a lazy chuckle rumbling in his chest as he tightened his hold on you just a little more.

Pierre shook his head slowly, blinking as if he wasn’t sure he’d heard correctly. “So… this? This is serious?” he asked, voice almost whispering as though not wanting to disturb the peaceful moment.

Carlos let out a soft sigh, the sound barely audible as he pressed his cheek gently against your head, completely content in the quiet. His eyes fluttered open, and he met Pierre’s gaze with a slow, sleepy smile.

“Trust me,” he started, barely awake. “There’s more to figure out, but this?” He paused, glancing down at you, his eyes soft with affection. “This is happening.”

—-

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wintfleur · 1 year ago

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Hi can u write prompt 18 and 14 🪷 and [comfort] 🌷 with lando? With lando being the one who comforts?? Thank u sm I love u and ur works 💗💗💗💗

౨ৎ sleep darling

﹕─┈ pairings ( Lando norris x female! reader )

°. — summary ( a morning with lando after a restless night )

°. — details ( g; fluff, a pinch of angst? w; none that I know of. wc; 1.5k )

﹕─┈ prompt ~ hugging them tight without saying any words when they're having a hard time + they roll on top of you, cradling your head between their hands as they kiss your nose + a tender kiss to provide comfort or reassurance

˖ ་ 💭 roro’s notes ( Tysm for the request lovely & the kind words ! I love you too !!! I had so much fun writing this, it was an amazing request !!! I hope you like it, I tried fitting in the prompts together the best I could !!! Please don’t be a silent reader lovely’s, your thoughts are what keep me motivated to write !!! )

1k celly masterlist main masterlist F1 masterlist

Restless sighs and tired groans leave your lips as you roll over onto your side, now facing your large window that gives you a perfect view of the sunrise. Your eyes dropped down to the sleepy body next to you, he was laying on his stomach with both of his arms under the soft white pillow, the duvet being pulled up to his shoulders, protecting him from the breeze coming through the cracked open window. He looked so peaceful as he slept, that made you happy.

You missed him, lately he's been busy with getting ready for the start of the new f1 season and even though some days he came home early, you were too busy studying to really spend any time with him. For the past week, the two of you really only spent time together in bed, and most of the time lando was sleeping while you laid wide awake. You barely slept and when you did you woke up in cold sweats from the nightmares that plagued your mind.

The lack of sleep and the intense studying didn't help your mood, but your sweet boyfriend didn't let your mood get to him, he understands. You felt guilty, he was the absolute sweetest and so understanding, sending you sweet texts throughout the day, getting you flowers and ordering you your favorite food; knowing that you most likely forgot to eat. And yet you couldn't even spare the time to spend more time with him.

You watched as he scrunched his nose in annoyance and nuzzled his face deeper into the pillow as the sun shines on his face. You begin to feel restless as you continue to lay down, your mind not shutting off even though you've stayed up for the whole night. By the time you decided to stop studying, it was way past midnight and Lando was already asleep even though he tried to stay up for you.

You felt that guilt creep up and you let out a heavy sigh, you couldn't lay down anymore wasting time. You quietly sit up and move the blankets off your legs and move to get out of bed, but you pause when you hear a tired groan accompanied by your boyfriend's groggy voice “Where are you going?”

“To the bathroom, I'll be right back, go back to sleep baby” you spoke softly so you wouldn't pull him too much out of his sleep as you looked back at him. One of his hands was out from under the pillow as if he was reaching out from you to stop you from leaving, and that's what he intended to do, he was just far to sleep to open his eyes. Lando hummed sleepily “Mmkay hurry back . . . wanna cuddle.”

You leaned down and placed a soft but quick kiss on his forehead, a sleepy smile forming on his lips at the touch of your lips. You quickly leave the bed, knowing that if you stared at him any longer you wouldn't want to leave the bed. You quietly close the bathroom door behind you before turning on the light. You take your time brushing and flossing your teeth and brushing your hair out of your face, you try not to look at yourself for too long in the mirror. You could see that you were exhausted, the past week not only taking a toll on your mental state, but also your physical.

You can imagine Lando becoming impatient with how long you were taking in the bathroom if he hasn't fallen asleep yet, so you quickly finish up in the bathroom and shut off the light as you leave. You looked at your bed and for a second you believed Lando had fallen back asleep from how still he was, but you're proven wrong when he grabs the duvet and pulls it back for you, wanting you to lay next to him. Cute.

You fight the urge of wanting to escape to the living room to study and climb into bed, sliding under the blanket and right next to your sleepy boyfriend. You lay on your side, your hands under your face as you look at a barely awake lando. Lando pulls the blanket up to your shoulders and blinks the sleep out of his eyes, his eyes taking in every inch of your beauty. He could see your exhaustion in your eyes and face, but he thinks you're the prettiest girl ever.

Lando frowns and tucked the blanket under your neck, his thumb softly caressing your chin “You haven't slept.”

You didn't bother trying to lie, one you were too exhausted trying to come up with a good excuse and you also know it was no use too anyway. Lando knew you better than anyone else, sometimes even better than you. You sigh and break your eye contact before whispering “I tried.”

“You should have woken me up, I don't like that you were up alone” Lando continues to frown as he looks at you, feeling guilty because he wasn't up to help you. The thought of you lying awake all night made his heart hurt, he wished you woke him up and he wished he wasn't so tired last night and stayed up. He didn't care if the two of you laid in silence all night in each other's arms, because you would have done it together.

“I wasn't alone, i had you right next to me” you whispered sweetly as you pulled your hand out from under your face and pushed back his messy hair out of his eyes. A grin spreads across Lando's face at your romantic words and a cute giggle leaves his lips as he quickly moves forward, your body moving to lay on your back as he rolls on top of you. He settled comfortably between your legs, cradling your head with a gentle touch, leaning down and placing a soft kiss on your nose.

You giggle at the sudden change of position and scrunch your nose at the feeling of his soft lips on your nose, pecking it several times; he knew it made you ticklish. Your hands move up to hold his wrists as you look up into his beautiful eyes, your legs wrapping around his waist under the blanket. He holds your face softly, making sure you keep your eyes on him as he tries his best to make his voice sound stern “I’ll always be with you angel, but you need to rest. you've barely gotten any sleep all week.”

“I ⸺ “

“I'll help you study later; I promise. Just take a little nap with me . . . please” he quickly cut you off, his tone trailing off to a slight beg. He already knew what you were going to say, telling him how you desperately needed to study and that you couldn't waste any time. But he had full confidence in you, he knew you would do just fine in your exams, you were just psyching yourself out to an extreme.

Lando didn't break eye contact with you as he pulled out his secret weapon that always works on you, a small pout with his puppy dog eyes. You sigh as you look down at his lips, knowing what he was pulling on you and there was no way you could say no to those eyes, and you knew he wasn't going to stop until you agree “Hmm fine.”

Lando grins and kisses your nose one more time as he brings one of your hands down to pat your thigh, you unwrap your legs around his waist and sit up on your elbows as lando drops to your side, your body wanting to reach out for his warmth that you were already missing and craving. Lando lays on his back and opens his arms for you.

You scoot closer to lando and he pulls you into his arms and into a tight but comfortable hug, your head rests in the crook of his neck while you drape your leg over his midsection. Lando slips one of his hands under your shirt and starts rubbing your back, your eyes fluttering close at the soothing and comforting touch. Lando fights back a yawn and places a kiss on the top of your head before whispering, “I’ll be right here the whole time, i got you okay.”

You know what he meant, he wanted to let you know that you were safe in his arms, that you had nothing to fear, that he would protect you from your nightmares. Tears well in your eyes, because of the exhaustion or from the strong feeling of love you felt for him . . . you had a feeling it was the latter. You lean your head back, the movement catching lando’s attention and the two of you lock eyes as you spoke softly “I love you.”

Lando used his free hand that wasn't rubbing your back and gently grabbed your chin, tilting your head up more so he could lean down and take your lips into his for a slow but passionate kiss filled with love and reassurance. The kiss didn't last long but it took both of your breaths away. He slowly pulled away from your intoxicating lips and watched as you laid your head back on his chest, your body melting into his with tiredness. The sound of his heartbeat lulling you to sleep. He whispered breathlessly as his hold on you tightens, his own eyes closing.

“I love you more, now sleep darling.”

˖ ་ 💭 roro’s notes ( GAWD I HAVE SUCH A WEAKNESS FOR SWEET BF LANDO 😭 AND CONGRATS ON P3 LAN !!! )

°. — taglist ( @iloveyou3000morgan @copper-boom @cixrosie @partyinpitlane @ophcelia @toasttt11 )

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itoshiierae · 1 month ago

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Hii i LOVE ur writing sm ugh!!!! i also have a req so pls hmo.. (I thhink this would look good in headcanon format) so ur describing ur type to them(u both have crushes on each other) and its the exact opposite of them, but in the end u tell them u were just joking and that they are ur type

I rlly wanna see this with Bachira, Barou, Gagamaru, Chigiri and maybe pre wc Kunigami<33

˚₊۶ৎ˙⋆ not your type (except… maybe he is) 𓂃⋆.˚

──★ ˙🧷 ̟ !!

ᡣ𐭩 ft: bachira meguru, barou shoei, gagamaru gin, chigiri hyoma & (pre-wc)kunigami rensuke

ᡣ𐭩 notes: hii there and aww thank you!!! 🥹🩷 anyway, this was sooo much fun to write omg. i loved the chaos of making them spiral a little before giving them the relief they deserve HAHAH <33 btw i tried doing this in headcanon format like you requested!!! c:

ᡣ𐭩 cw: mutual pining, light angst ( but fluffy ending! ), light teasing, barou might seem ‘harsh’, mentions of body type and appearance preferences, eventual fluff

♡ BACHIRA MEGURU ♡

𖦹 you say it without thinking, “i like quiet, serious guys. y’know, mysterious types who barely smile.”

𖦹 and he just… freezes. like straight up stops swinging his legs, leans back slowly, blinks at you like you just insulted his entire bloodline.

𖦹 “so like… not me?” his voice goes all awkward and small, like he’s trying so hard to sound chill but he’s already spiraling inside.

𖦹 he starts sulking. draws a sad little monster on the table with his finger — doesn’t say anything. doesn’t make eye contact. just wilts in real time like you personally broke his spirit. won’t even look up when you call his name — just keeps doodling his tragic little guy, like he’s going through a breakup you didn’t know you were part of.

𖦹 so obviouslyyy, you push him a little further by saying: “no offense, but you literally talk to your shoes when you’re bored.”

𖦹 after hearing that, he looks genuinely offended. like his jaw slightly dropped, blinking at you as if you just told him his dog ran away and then he turns back to his little monster drawing & makes it even sadder.

𖦹 you let the tension simmer for just a second more, then finally crack a smile, laughter curling at the edges of your voice. “i’m just messing with you... you’re totally my type.”

𖦹 he pauses — stunned — like he seriously didn’t expect you to say that out loud. the sad monster he’d drawn???? now suddenly has hearts for its eyes. “you little liar,” he whispers, fighting a smile. “say it again.”

𖦹 and when you do??? he throws himself at you in a hug and won’t let go for like another 3 hours.

♡ BAROU SHOEI ♡

𖦹 it starts with a joke you didn’t mean to land: “… y’know i like laid-back guys who are chill & someone who doesn’t care too much about appearances.”

𖦹 he deadass stops mid-sip of his overpriced protein shake and just blinks at you like you spoke a forbidden language.

𖦹 his eye twitches like you’ve just personally disrespected his gym splits, his skincare, and the 17-step hair routine he claims he doesn’t have. “…what the hell did you just say?”

𖦹 “wait so… you seriously want a guy who doesn’t groom himself!!?” he mutters, practically spiraling, listing off how those kinds of men probably don’t floss, don’t moisturize, and — with full offense — are just plain disgusting. “low standards,” he scoffs, as if you were the one who needed to reevaluate your life.

𖦹 he’s seething on the outside, sulking on the inside — muttering that ‘you just don’t know what’s good for you.’

𖦹 so after dragging it out justtt enough, you laugh and reassure him, “i’m joking. i actually like guys who take care of themselves…. that means you’re exactly my type, barou...”

𖦹 he immediately scoffs. clicks his tongue and then glares at you before saying, “tch... you better not say stupid shit like that again.”

𖦹 but he’s blushing all the way down to his collarbone. half-hiding behind his protein shake like it could shield his pride. you could tell that his entire mental system just crashed, and you know he’s probably gonna replay this moment mid-set at the gym later, scowling while angrily curling dumbbells.

♡ GAGAMARU GIN ♡

𖦹 “i like pretty boys... yknow, those that are skinny, delicate, almost as if the wind could carry them away….” it slips out mid-convo, lighthearted and harmless

𖦹 or so you think. you don’t mean it seriously. it’s just a throwaway preference, a passing comment you figured he wouldn’t take personally

𖦹 but gagamaru pauses mid-sip of his drink and then glances down at his six-foot-something wall of a body, the kind that could body slam a tree and he’d probably win.

𖦹 then he looks at his hands — big, calloused, rough — almost as if they’ve betrayed him. you watch in real time as his soul briefly leaves his body.

𖦹 and worst of all? he’s not even sulking. he’s just… solemn. he stares straight into the void and mutters under his breath, “guess i’ll go learn ballet or something…”

𖦹 you panic because no way??? he’s not even joking. the man is spiraling, full gentle-giant overthinking mode unlocked, and you’re scrambling to stop him before he ACTUALLY signs up for a modern dance elective.

𖦹 you laugh, reach for his hand, and lean in just enough to murmur,“…gagamaru, no. i was only teasing… you’re exactly my type.”

𖦹 he immediately freezes like someone just pressed pause on him. and then, slowly, the softest smile unfurls across his face. it’s not his usual blank-faced calm — this one’s hopeful, warm, basically the kind that makes you want to melt into his hoodie and never leave.

𖦹 his voice cracks faintly. “you’re serious?” like he’s trying to hold back the smile tugging at his lips, just in case it’s a joke.

𖦹 afterwards he lets out a breath you didn’t realize he’d been holding, then starts grinning — all goofy charm and too-big emotions crammed into one oversized frame. “okay. good. ’cause i was about to buy eyeliner.”

♡ CHIGIRI HYOMA ♡

𖦹 “i’m into super tall, muscular guys. yknow like those bodybuilder types….” you say it without thinking — casual, teasing, maybe even just to see his reaction. but the moment those words leave your mouth??? oh, you’ve just triggered something in him.

𖦹 chigiri immediately stopped whatever he was doing initially. his expression doesn’t even change at first — he just freezes. and then: “…so you’re saying… you want a guy who can squat me?”

𖦹 his voice came out flat. unimpressed. offended on behalf of every race he’s ever run. “yeah, basically,” you say, just to be annoying.

𖦹 he side-eyes his own legs like they’ve failed him. and the fact that they’ve carried him through national matches & broken records — but apparently, they’re not ‘squat-my-girl’ worthy. “i could sprint you into the next century,” he mutters under his breath, “but okay.”

𖦹 he starts tying and untying his ponytail, trying to look all unbothered — but you can clearly see the crack in his cool facade. the silent fluster. the subtle pout. the internal monologue of ‘so what if i’m not six-foot-five? i have definition. i have stamina. i have quads built by god.’

𖦹 “… you really like those types, huh?” he asks it too casually — like a test. almost as if he wants to see if you’ll actually say it again.

𖦹 satisfied with his reaction, that’s when you finally lean in and say: “not really... i actually like pretty, fast guys with killer legs… so you’re literally my type, hyoma.”

𖦹 he malfunctions on the spot. tries to play it cool, but fails miserably. then he mumbles something like, “…tch. whatever.” but his ears??? red. his neck??? flushed. his hands??? suddenly became too fidgety… and the second you’re not looking? he’s smiling to himself like an idiot the entire day.

𖦹 later that night, he sends you a post-workout mirror selfie. shirt half-damp, towel slung over his shoulder, muscles flexing just right with the caption that reads “still not tall enough?”

𖦹 and you???? you almost combust on the spot.

♡ KUNIGAMI RENSUKE ♡

𖦹 “…honestly, i like bad boys. cocky, unhinged, the kind that makes your friends worry.” you say it with a grin — playful, but laced with just enough bite to make him pause. and kunigami???? oh, he takes it personally.

𖦹 “so someone like… barou?” he doesn’t even say it sarcastically. it’s genuine confusion like he’s already doing mental gymnastics trying to understand how you ended up liking the complete opposite of everything he is. and then it begins — the spiral.

𖦹 he starts listing his own good qualities like you’re about to file a complaint: “i cook. i clean. i floss. i don’t fight strangers unless i’m legally allowed to. i hold doors open for people—”

𖦹 and then his voice just trails off and he immediately goes quiet like something in him just deflated a little.

𖦹 “…guess i’m not your type, then.” he says it so softly it actually hurts a little.

𖦹 until you lean in and say with a small, almost mischievous smile, “nah… i was just messing with you.” and then — without even letting him recover — you drop the real one: “i actually like guys with strong morals. and a killer body. and guess what???? that’s literally you.”

𖦹 you could’ve SWEAR that the sunlight got brighter after that. he blinks at you — once, twice, mouth slightly parted like he genuinely didn’t expect that coming from you.

𖦹 “…wait. wait you’re serious?”

𖦹 you nod, and that’s when he turns red. not just a light blush — but full on red, ears and neck included. he immediately looks away, trying to hide it by adjusting his hoodie like it’s a shield.

𖦹 “…thanks.” he mumbles. “that means a lot.” and for the rest of the day, his smile got a little brighter. and he also flexes his biceps a bit more than usual during workouts. just in case you’re still watching (which you are.)

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radiohao · 8 days ago

Text

princess treatment with nct wish (but it's stupid)

pairings: nct wish hyung line x f!reader

warnings: jokes abt hitting someone, fluff, crack, pinching riku's ear bc he's loud as hell

wc: 671 (haha six seeven)

oh sion:

SPRINTS to any door while cackling like a maniac because he knows you get embarrassed when he opens doors for you

"m'lady," he says while tipping an imaginary hat, trying SO HARD not to laugh

"oh sion, i'm going to smACK you across the head."

holds all your purses and bags for you and pretends like they're dumbbells, lifting them up while unnecessarily shaking

"babe, make sure to spot me!" his biceps are flexing as if the bags are heavy... and did some sweat just roll down his temple??

"let's go HOME, sion."

"no, wait! just four more reps!'

"H O M E."

"I NEED TO BEAT MY PR!!!"

what a drama queen oh my god

you pretend you don't know him in public

boyfriend? you don't have one

always keeps an extra pair of footwear in his car just in case your feet start hurting, but sometimes he forgets so instead he piggybacks you

"don't worry babe, i always come prepared!" he opens the trunk of his car and there are no shoes in sight

"...well not today bUT i can just carry you!" he says proudly, but the sheepish smile on his face gives him away

"it's okay babe, i'll just go barefoot" you suggest

"what? NO! yOU CANT WHAT IF SOMETHING PRICKS YOUR FOOT-"

"we'll be walking on sand, sion."

"nonono, i'll carry you. i insist."

"we can't enjoy a stroll along the beach when you have to carry my weight on your back" you deadpan

"who said we can't?"

you sigh, but the smile on your face betrays you anyway

turns out he was right, you can enjoy walks on the beach even while sion piggybacks you

maeda riku

kisses the back of your hand before a date like you're a disney princess

"you look absolutely dashing tonight, my love," he coos while he presses kisses to your knuckles

"okay, prince charming," you say with a laugh

makes you link arms with him when out in public

he's literally TERRIFIED to lose you in the crowd even though you're grown

when you let go his breaths get short and he starts sweating and he feels like he's getting pale

but in reality you're literally in the next aisle like girl bye

"honey??? WHERE'D YOU GO??? HONEEYY-"

"MAEDA RIKU STOP SCREAMING!!"

"PRINCESS WHERE ARE YOU COME BACK!!?!!?"

you RUN to the aisle where riku is and pinch his ear before linking your arm with his

"oh, there you are."

"i'm never coming to this store again, they're gonna think i have a crazy ass boyfriend."

ties your shoes for you all the time. and i mean ALL the time.

"baby wait, your shoes are untied."

"huh? but i'm wearing heels?" you question

he kneels down and literally ties imaginary shoelaces

keep in mind this is all in a public server

you grAB riku's arm and pull him up

"you just love embarrassing me, don't you?"

he gives you the signature grandpa laugh and you can't help but laugh back

"always."

tokuno yushi

pays for everything no matter how stupidly low or high the price is

"allow me," yushi says as he pulls out his card

"...these are floss picks? that are 3 bucks????"

"allow me." he repeats

"oh my god- i literally have my card out already-" you push his arm and begin to insert your card into the reader

ur bf basically SNATCHES it out without saying a word and puts his own card in

"doesn't matter, i'm paying anyway."

lets you decorate all his things

ALL his things

one day he goes to brush his teeth

um why does his toothbrush have stickers on them??

"love? did you put these on here?"

"noooo..." you say while holding the sticker sheet behind you

he laughs and rolls his eyes playfully

"it's cute. i like it. it's cute."

"you said 'it's cute' twice."

"i take it back, it's hideous."

has a lot of your frequently used products on hand

"crap, i forgot my dry shampoo!" he shoves the mini dry shampoo bottle into your face

"oh! thanks, baby. what the hell? where did my brush go-"

"here." "thank you! ugh, you're an angel. i keep losing my stuff!"

he totally does NOT take your essentials out of your bag so he can be the one to provide

haha that would be weird

(yushi took it all out before you left the house)

author's note: WOOO HAPPY 10 FOLLOWERS EVERYONE 🥳🥳🥳🥳 thank you for all the love on my other posts i cannot believe the amount of likes i'm getting!! again, please feel free to send requestsss!! like or reblog if you enjoyed! i love you all soooo much and have a good night! :))

#nct wish #nct wish imagines #nct wish x reader #tokuno yushi #fluff #maeda riku #oh sion #sion fluff #riku fluff #yushi fluff #x reader #fanfic #kpop #nct wish scenarios #nct wish drabbles

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holy-puckslibrary · 1 year ago

Text

─ 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐭'𝐬 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐜.

pairing(s) — fwb!MATTHEW TKACHUK x reader wc — 3.2k synopsis — best not-boyfriend boyfriend ever! (read the request here) note — bestie, your brain? marvelous! this was an absolute joy to write, and i hope this captures your vision!!! thank you for the request <3

main masterlist

content warnings under the cut.

cw — hints of a debut-inspired ensemble; complicated, grossly intimate situationship + emotional constipation; angst (not really) to fluffy fluffy; tswizzle references; suggestive section: "heavy petting" but nothing explicit / fade to black; brief alcohol mention + consumption; brief mention of food (no specifics); and ~emotions~

I. it’s getting so much clearer…

Matthew regrets making you a key.

Majorly.

If he’d known the can of worms he was opening when he unceremoniously dropped them in your lap one night, he would’ve listened to his brother; you don’t give girlfriend privileges to women who aren’t your girlfriend. It only leads to hurt feelings, broken console controllers, and unnecessary trouble.

However, it’s highly unlikely this is the “trouble” to which Brady was referring.

Rooted in the entryway, he surveys the damage.

Beads of all shapes, sizes, and colors sit in a sea of jars. Some have spilled out under the coffee table and couch, others have made it all the way into the kitchen. Knotted balls of elastic are sprinkled throughout the chaos, as are multiple pairs of scissors, skeins of embroidery floss, and shards of construction paper. There are markers everywhere, but for some unknown reason, the crayons and sticker sheets are in nice, neat piles. A white feather boa is draped over the entertainment center and there’s a pink one curled by his feet. And, in the eye of the storm, is an anxious lump frantically stringing together DIY jewelry and muttering along to the megamix blaring through the room; he doubts you even heard him come home.

“Sweetheart, is there a reason it looks like a craft store threw up everywhere?” Matthew shouts as he gingerly braves the hurricane.

Something crunches under his shoe, and from the sound alone, he knows it would’ve been worse than stepping on a Lego if his feet were bare.

He also knows that if the music were even a decibel lower, you would be pissed beyond belief. How dare he move freely through his own home without first checking for rogue pieces of plastic? His ears are ringing, but he’s grateful for it. From many years of mistakes and misadventures, he's learned you won’t get on top if you’re mad, regardless of how much groveling he does. And he's got one foot in the doghouse after last weekend as it is.

“T-minus two days ’til Taylor, Matthew,” you grumble from the floor. “What do you think?”

You’ve been at this for weeks. It gets worse the closer the concert gets. The mess and your mood.

Matthew isn’t stupid, and he knows you better than he lets on. You panic under the weight of your own (often unrealistic) expectations. You need everything to be perfect, or the entire world crumbles. This, Night One of the Florida dates of the Eras Tour, is, understandably, no exception. If anything, the pressure’s dialed up to eleven.

In stressing over every little detail, you’ve made yourself miserable. Watching you unravel makes his chest feel strange.

You won’t ask for help. You don’t want it, either.

But, he can’t let you flounder. For his own sanity, he can’t do it. And he does care about you. Maybe not in the way everyone assumes or hopes, but he does. He’d do almost anything to lighten your load.

Yet, Matthew treads lightly. If he’s too forthcoming, you could get the wrong idea. He doesn’t want to spook you, and he can’t have any wires getting crossed. What’s so good about your situation is how markedly uncomplicated it’s been. He refuses to be the one who fucks it up for everyone.

So, he does what he can, and he does it without making a big deal about it.

After a quick shower and a change of clothes, he sinks down onto the floor beside you. You’re perched on one of the obnoxious throw pillows you insisted he order to “spruce up” the space and make it look less “bachelor pad-y." As if that’s not exactly what it is. He takes this as rare permission to do the same, placing one under his hips and cuddling another to his chest as he stretches out on his stomach, phone in hand.

Well, as stretched as a person can be in the middle of an obstacle course.

Between the second play of “cowboy like me” and the third of “Tim McGraw,” his various feeds dry up, and he’s spammed his contacts into oblivion. You're still chugging along, like a Sad Girl automaton locked in an endless glittery assembly line.

At one point, you murmur, “Give me your wrist."

And he does.

Matthew’s taken aback when you loop elastic around it to get a measurement.

He’s confused, but not for the reason one might assume. He’s painfully familiar with the friendship bracelet phenomenon and the giddy exchanges, having been force-fed hours' worth of tour content over the past year, but he never thought you’d rope him into it.

The buzz under his skin is oddly auspicious, watching you clip the appropriate length before reaching for the pile laid out near his head.

It’s not long before you make the same request again. However, this time, you slide on a custom creation. You fiddle with it for a moment, then turn back to your station to begin the next one on the list.

“And in which era does she cosplay as a camp counselor?” Matthew teases as he thumbs the letter beads.

They spell out a moniker he’d honestly find offensive if you hadn’t looped the song one too many times. He wonders if you’ve made yourself the matching one.

You emit a sound that haunts his nightmares and side-eye him in a way that would’ve made a lesser man disintegrate.

“If you don’t want it, give it back so I can give it to someone who will appreciate my time and effort,” you bite with your hand outstretched, palm up and open expectantly.

Matthew shoves it away, suddenly defensive. “I never said that.”

The sun slips behind the fence an hour later, and the sky bathes the house in purple-pink hues. As he gathers ingredients in the kitchen, Matthew watches the slow-moving clouds absentmindedly. He hasn't felt this content in a while.

Arms full, he wades through the arts and crafts on the way to the backyard.

You’re still in the den, still hunched over in the same place he found you in. He shakes his head when he passes you, knowing he’s got an hour (at least) moonlighting as a masseuse in his future.

You don’t startle or acknowledge him until the grill set you bought for his birthday clatters to the floor.

“Why’re there two cowboy hats getting glitter all over my patio?” he asks, despite knowing the answer. And hating it. Vehemently.

You fix him with an unamused glare. Your brow quirks, and your hands still. Then, you blink at him very slowly. Like he’s an idiot. Like he just asked a stupid question—because he did.

Matthew’s head wags so intensely that his neck cracks.

“Oh, hell no.”

II. it’s coming undone…

Matthew scowls at his reflection.

“—looks so fucking stupid.”

He can’t tell if he looks worse with or without the fur-trimmed, shimmery cowboy hat. And, honestly, it's a little distressing. After temporarily ditching it, he tugs at his curls. Then, the hem of the jersey.

Resigned, he reaches across the bed for the homemade accessory. Wearing it will make you smile—and it gives his dignity something to hide behind.

Twitter’s going to have a fucking field day.

Your panicked voice spills out from the hotel bathroom, “Really?”

“Of course, it fucking do—”

His tirade of vanity grinds to a screeching halt at the sight of you, backlit and wilting.

“That’s not—ah, fuck.” Matthew digs the heels of his palms into his eyes. “What I meant was—me, it looks stupid on me. Not you. On you, it looks… It looks…”

“It looks, what?”

It looks like he’s glad none of your friends were available because he won’t have to pretend you’re less than you are.

No lectures, no goading, no scrutiny. Just you.

“Right.” That’s the word he settles for. “It looks right.”

The emphasis chips away at what little believability the underwhelming affirmation had. That much is evident from the insecurity bleeding through your makeup.

“Right,” you parrot. Skeptically, you drag out the vowel long enough that it disappears into the bathroom with you.

Before the door clicks shut, Matthew’s already berating himself for whatever just happened. For acting like a complete doofus with a foot shoved down his throat.

His mind is as quick as his tongue is sharp. He’s got confidence for days and a cocky demeanor primed and on-call, one that most women find endearing. Yourself included. He’s never had an issue dishing out pretty words or flirting before, especially not with you.

With you, banter came easy. Sweet or salacious, it didn’t matter. The bob and weave, from platonic chatter to something charged and suggestive, is effortless. And it’s been that way for as long as he can remember. It's innate. He should be able to uphold his reputation in his sleep.

What’s gotten into him?

(You’d say the power of Taylor Swift, or some shit. Which is why he doesn’t open the floor for discussion. Among other reasons.)

Matthew makes the executive decision to put things right. To redeem himself, to feel more like himself.

His palms are hot and tingling as he sets off to do what he does best. Something fool-proof. Something that’ll erase the past ten minutes from the collective consciousness. Something to scratch an itch...

He won't make it through three and a half hours without catching a public indecency charge.

Not with you looking like that.

“I was thinking,” Matthew trails off as he comes up behind you in the en suite bathroom. His hands land on the counter, one on either side of you. “We should fool around a little bit before we leave.”

With his chest flush to your back and his chin propped on your shoulder, he blatantly checks you out.

You, albeit begrudgingly, find it flattering. On principle, you roll your eyes.

You snort. “Funny."

Sarcasm pinches his face as he unintelligibly mocks you.

Whatever witty retort he had died on his tongue when you lean forward to put some eyeliner in your waterline, inadvertently pushing the curve of your backside right into his growing bulge.

Matthew turns you to face him without warning.

The kohl pencil goes flying, dotting the pristine space as it tumbles to the floor. Its final resting place is unknown; you’ll follow the smudge-crumbs later.

Later, when he doesn’t have you pressed tight between the harsh edge of the counter and his chest.

Later, when the dull ache in your arched back dissipates.

Later, when his attraction isn’t so painfully tangible.

Later, when he isn’t looking at you the way he is now.

You’re sinking in a shade of blue you don’t recognize. It’s stormy, vast and disquieting. Like any collision, you’re unable to tear your eyes away even though you know you should. It betrays an aura of foreboding, yet somehow, Matthew’s charged gaze carries a soothing effect. It's hypnotic in an stomach-twisting way.

“I’m not laughing, sweetheart.” He breathes the words through the slight part in your lips, his voice rich and thick like honey.

“W-We need to be quick—”

Matthew buries his face in the sweet-smelling crook of your neck. Intent on shutting you up, he succeeds with infuriating ease once he’s latched onto your throat. He nips and sucks whenever you protest, and soon, you don’t even bother trying anymore.

Why lie and deny when what you want feels this fucking good?

When your nails dig impatient little half-moons into his forearms, Matthew bares his teeth with a triumphant hiss.

He grins against your skin, humming atop your erratic pulse.

“Better hurry up and spread ‘em, then.”

Matthew’s between your dangling boots as soon as you’ve hoisted yourself onto the counter. Kneading the soft skin of your thighs, inching up and in with eager hands, he doesn’t slow or stop until the white Self-Titled sundress is bunched up in the hinge of your hips.

“That’s my girl.”

III. it’s delicate…

“All Tequila, No Crime” isn’t as diabolical of a cocktail as it sounds.

Spending $100+ to taste test it and three other signature mixed drinks is.

A robbery, if you ask him.

What's downright criminal, though, is your inability to finish a single one. A “Last Great American G&T” with a few sips missing, a half-finished “Midnight Mule,” and a watered-down “Blue Debut” sit abandoned amongst an assortment of sweet treats and small bites.

As he waits for what he ordered, Matthew picks at the vibrant fruit salad. He’s about to pluck a honeydew star from the pile stacked high in a bowl fashioned from a watermelon rind when the back of his neck prickles.

“Knock it off.”

You blink, bemused.

Matthew, having watched your reaction in a reflection, rolls his eyes.

Back still to you, he clarifies. “You promised you wouldn’t make this a whole thing.”

“I'm not.”

“You've never been a good liar.”

“Isn't that a good thing?” you deflect.

You turn your attention back to the lively stadium, watching as it fills with laughter and anticipation. You're hoping he'll take the hint and drop it, that he won't pull the night apart at the seams.

He abandons the sprawling buffet table in favor of the plush recliner beside yours. Once settled, Matthew slides a plate of your favorites across the small table between you.

“Don't change the subject.”

The cement under your boots makes for a captive audience as you sail into dicey weather. “I know—I know what I said, and I'm really trying my best, but can you blame me? I mean, c’mon, Matty. Look where we are.”

“A Taylor Swift concert?” Matthew does what he does best.

You know his tells and his tricks. You indulge neither.

“My first Taylor Swift concert. Ever. I came out of The Queue From Hell empty-handed and shit out of luck, yet here we are. The Eras Tour. And not way up the nosebleeds or side-stage with an obstructed view. A suite. A private, fifteen-person suite—for just us. You did that.”

Matthew shifts uncomfortably. He scratches the shadow clinging to his jaw. He looks everywhere, at everything. Everything except you.

“So?”

The probe is firm yet reluctant but not inherently dismissive.

“So,” you heave a labored sigh of unease. “—so, how could I not? This ‘whole thing’ is the kindest, most thoughtful gesture anyone’s ever done for me. It means the absolute world, and I know you know that.”

A thick, paralyzing quiet descends on the balcony.

He does know that, which is what makes it so terrible. He knows, he knows, he knows. Matthew knows; he wishes he didn’t. For years, he successfully kept it at bay because… because you can’t just un-know something like that. Even entertaining the thought felt too big a risk. It jeopardizes the delicate peace only willful ignorance can safeguard.

“Alright, alright. Jesus, sweetheart. Can't have you emptying the tank before the show even starts,” Matthew teases as he thumbs the tears away. “How d’ya know I didn’t pull some strings just to put an end to your perpetual pity party?”

He’s trying to lighten the mood. Hoping to inch away from the emotionally dense zone of uncharted territory, hoping you’ll have mercy—or take pity—on him and his plight of avoidance.

And you do.

Ever the benevolent people-pleaser.

You take your foot off the gas. You retreat to the status quo. You yield, but for a good cause.

Good and right aren’t synonymous. And we can’t will them to be. So, instead, we choose our battles and bide our time.

There’s no reason to rain on tonight’s parade.

“Thank you,” you acquiesce.

Mathew smiles.

This ceasefire, this tacit truce, is as fragile as rice paper. It feels as though, if someone pushed too hard from either side, they'd go right through it unchallenged. But, for now, it's enough.

He takes your hand and squeezes. “And for the hundredth time, you’re welcome.”

IV. it’s been a long time coming…

He gets it now.

Truthfully, he understood after the very first bridge of the night. There’s just something about the intimacy of the spectacle; it's… indescribable. With thousands from all walks of life gathered in a single stadium to celebrate nearly two decades of singing, crying, and growing up together, it wasn't difficult to get swept up in the magic.

For someone who’d consider themselves fan-adjacent at best, he wasn’t expecting to feel much of anything, let alone goosebumps, misty-eyed.

He can’t even imagine how extraordinarily special it must’ve been for you, a lifelong fan, to partake in the world’s most cinematic sing-along. To luck out with your opener of choice, to be surprised with your favorite song during the acoustic set—you could probably die happy. Matthew can still feel your tear-streaked cheek against his shoulder and your shakey hand clasped in his. And he’ll remember the warmth of your joy for the rest of his life.

He, however, doesn't have to imagine how much the experience took out of you.

“Hey, hey. Don’t pass out on me yet, sweetheart.”

You’re one minute into a five-minute Uber ride, and he’s already had to nudge you twice.

Curled against the cool window like a cat, you groggily protest, “I’m not. My mind is alive, promise.”

He snorts. “Then why’re your eyes shut?”

“They aren’t!”

They absolutely are.

Matthew tugs you across his lap with a smile pulling at his cheeks.

“Sounds like you need to get yours checked, Matthew Brendan,” you quip into his chest before drowning the backseat in delirious giggles.

In the golden glow of the streetlamps, his smirk rests against your temple.

Here is the moment. There have been hundreds like it in the years since you met. Lighthearted banter and late night laughter spill over into the early morning hours, all of it utter nonsense he wouldn’t trade for anything. It should be perfectly ordinary, but it's music to his ears.

The cowboy boots he swore he wouldn’t carry home rest against his similarly sore calves. The ziplock bag, once bursting at the seams with bracelets, is empty and folded in his back pocket, and his arm is full from elbow to wrist. The glitter he contested clings to him like a second skin, there to stay.

And he doesn’t hate it.

💌 if you liked it, pls lmk! 💌

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justsomerandomfanfic · 5 months ago

Text

Cold Hands - David Powers X GN Reader

Title: Cold Hands

David Powers X GN Reader

Additional Characters: Marko, Paul, and Dwanye (Mentioned)

WC: 3,294

Warnings: Mentions of smoking/cigarettes (Not by Reader), love at first sight?, italics, banter, flirting, teasing, one curse word, kind of soft David, suggestive, blood-drinking mentioned, suggestive blood-drinking mentioned, and fluff

Leaning up against the wooden rails of the boardwalk, you wrapped your arms around yourself; a breeze flying past you, sending a chill down your spine. Beside you, David stood. Cigarette loosely sitting between his lips, his ice-blue eyes wandered from person to person. The boardwalk was not as crowded as it usually was - a few groups of people here and there - but you didn't really care. You just wanted to be alone with David for a while. No offense to Marko, Paul, and Dwanye, but they could be quite the handful after a while, and it was nice to just be able to have some alone time with David; even for a little bit.

You met David - and Marko, Paul, and Dwayne - on the very same boardwalk. You were supposed to meet up with friends and go to some party that was going on, but you weren't really in the partying mood that night. Instead, you found yourself on the boardwalk, taking in the sights and smells of the boardwalk amusement park. You had already had yourself a bit of fun, going on the carousel twice, and trying your luck at a rigged game, but it was nearing the time when you'd head home for the night. But, that night, you decided to stay out just a little bit later than usual.

That was when you met David.

You could hear motorcycles roaring over the sound of children's laughter and the people's screams on the roller coaster. You followed the sound, spotting the four bikes racing down the boardwalk, weaving past other pedestrians who were too busy laughing or talking to pay attention. Thankfully, no one got hit or run over, and the first thought that came into your mind was just how dangerous they were all being.

You moved back a bit when you noticed that the four of them were coming your way, and as the first bike sped past, your eyes locked onto its rider. The bleach-blonde's head turned, his piercing blue eyes meeting yours, and for that split second, the world seemed to go by in slow-motion. His gaze was so intense, you felt your breath catch in your throat as he passed by.

But then the moment ended and you blinked, your mind racing - as was your heart. You had heard about the punk bike riders, but even though you had lived in Santa Carla for years at this point, you had never seen them up close before; even for just a split second.

It wasn't until later in that week that you saw him again. You found yourself back on the boardwalk, with some pink cotton candy in your hand. Was it crazy that you came back multiple times and stayed up later than you usually did to try and catch a glimpse of him again? Maybe, but you just couldn't get him out of your head. Not because you were interested in him - you definitely were. Not because he fascinated you - you were absolutely fascinated. But because you wanted to know more about him. He was definitely just some bad boy, wanna-be gangster. But who was he? Did he always wear that leather jacket? What was his name? How did he get his hair like that? And for the life of you, you couldn't figure out from that one split-second encounter why you had such an interest in him.

Walking down the boardwalk, you occasionally pulled at the candy floss, the sweet fake strawberry taste coated your tongue; you liked the way it melted. Your mind was elsewhere, debating on whether or not you'd get funnel cake the next time you visited the food booth. Sidestepping around another group of people, you made your way out of the amusement park. The boardwalk was crowded, as it usually was, so it was only a matter of time until either you bumped into someone, or someone bumped into you.

And you must have jinxed yourself because a few moments later, a small group of children ran past you, laughing and giggling as they made their way into the park. The last child, stumbling behind, ran right into your side, making you lose your balance and stagger to the side and right into someone's chest. Two hands wrapped around your waist, stabilizing you.

Finding your footing, you felt warmth rise up in your cheeks and ears from embarrassment, "I am so sorry-" You looked up, your eyes meeting those of the person who saved your ass. You paused, staring at his face, at his eyes, and you realized that it wasn't just any random stranger standing in front of you. It was him. "It's you..." You spoke softly, and the bleach-blonde in front of you smirked, letting out a small 'humph.'

"Me?" He asked, seemingly amused as the two of the three young men behind him echoed that chuckle - also seemingly amused by the situation.

At their laughter, and the realization that his hands were still on your waist, you cleared your throat and took a step back - his hands fell to his side. "I- Nevermind, thanks for catching me." You spoke nervously, but you couldn't look away from him, no matter how embarrassed you were. There was this odd tension in the air, and you had to admit you weren't sure what to make of it. Yes, you found him incredibly attractive. That bleached-blonde hair, light stubble across his chin, and those blue eyes of his, but somehow... He- He just felt different. He was different in a way you couldn't explain. A sense of familiarity mixed with uncertainty, and something else you couldn't even begin to describe.

The bleach-blonde - the leader of the small group, you had assumed - didn't say anything for a moment, and his smirk never faded, his eyes scanning over your form with those eyes of his, a shiver ran down your spine. "What's your name?"

"Y/N. What's yours?" You responded, and you were glad you remembered to respond.

"David." He answered, before gesturing to the three behind him, "And this is Marko, Paul, and Dwayne."

'David.' You thought, 'So that's his name...'

From behind David, the blonde - Paul - smiled and waved at you, "Hello!"

"Are you new?" Marko then asked, leaning around Paul to ask, "I don't think we've seen you before."

You shook your head, "No, uh, I just don't come to the boardwalk that often." You answered, and David let out another soft 'humph.'

"Well, that explains it then," He spoke, and once more, your attention was brought right back to him. That grin was still present on his lips. You swallowed hard and averted your gaze briefly, the moon was high in the sky; you should be heading home. David continued to watch you, intrigued. He watched as you shifted your weight slightly, as the lights from the amusement park sign danced across your features, and reflected off your hair. He remembered you, for a few nights prior. He had rode past you. He let out one last amused 'humph', your eyes leaving the moon and once more meeting his. He then began to walk around you; like a wild animal stalking around its prey. "Come on, boys." He spoke as his gloved hand raised to take a few strands of your hair, letting it slide through his leather-gloved fingers. With one last look, he left, his friends following behind him, but not before Marko grabbed a piece from your cotton candy.

Your eyes followed after him, watching as he disappeared in the crowd, and once he was finally out of your sight you let out the breath you didn't even realize you were holding. Your feet then led you back to your house in a daze. You - again - couldn't stop thinking about him. Your mind would wander, yes, but then it would go straight back into thinking about him. You replayed your first conversation with him over and over again in your head, and for some reason, you knew that this was not going to be your last encounter with him.

~~~

Another breeze ruffled your hair, tickling your cheeks as you let out a small sigh. You did not expect the night to get so chilly, and you began to regret not wearing a thicker jacket. But, your thoughts on how cold the night was quickly left your mind as you felt David's arm wrap around your shoulders; tugging you into his side. You looked up, and the first thing you saw was his bright, icy blue eyes staring right back into yours.

"Cold?" He spoke as if he read your mind. The thought made you mentally laugh.

"Yeah... Cold." You replied, your voice barely louder than a whisper, but he heard it nevertheless. "But, I’m okay."

He looked back at the people walking past, "Hmm," He pulled the cigarette from his lips, breathing the smoke out into the air, before turning to look at you fully; leaning his side against the wood. His arm around your shoulders raised, cupping your cheek to caress it with the padded leather of his thumb gently. His stare was intense - as always - as his eyes searched yours, looking for what exactly, you could not tell, but you found yourself unable to look away either. After a few moments of silence, he leaned forward ever so slightly and pressed his lips against your forehead. Another breeze shot by, and you shuffled closer to him as goosebumps erupted all over your arms and neck. Slipping your arms around David's waist, your hands slipping under his leather jacket, you buried your face into his shoulder. "You're really cold." He spoke, and you hummed, shutting your eyes.

"Yeah," You nuzzled your cheek into the space between his neck and shoulder. "I'm fine, though."

"Liar." He muttered, feeling how cold your nose was as you nuzzled further into him. "We can wait for the boys back at the cave." His arms wrapped around you, holding you to him.

You knew that Paul, Marko, and Dwayne would be fine. But, deep down, you hoped that they got your usual order at the nearby Chinese restaurant right; your stomach rumbled. Sighing, you tightened your hold around him, reluctant to let go, but you did, "Okay."

~~~

Upon arriving at the cave hideout, you quickly made your way inside. Seeing your throw blanket that you brought from home on the back of the tattered couch, you quickly grabbed it; wrapping it around yourself the best you could before sitting down on the said couch. David eventually made his way over, plopping down beside you, and immediately pulling you into his lap; like he usually did.

With the corners of the soft throw blanket curled in your fists, you wrap your arms around his neck, covering both of you in a cocoon of warmth. Your head rested on his shoulder before letting out a sigh. Again, it was nice to have the chance to spend some alone time with him.

David - though usually arrogant and obviously dangerous around others - was actually soft and gentle when it came to you. When it came to you... Well, he'd probably do anything for you. Honestly, who knew that he was such a cuddly bear? A cuddly dangerous bear with razor-sharp teeth to anyone who gets on his bad side.

Shifting slightly, you slipped your hands into your lap, the blanket thankfully staying around the two of you as you pressed your cheek into the cool leather of his shoulder. "They're gonna forget about my sweet and sour pork, aren't they?" You asked quietly, not really wanting to disrupt the silence, but you felt the need to talk.

"Probably." He spoke, his words low and husky; you didn't have to look up at him to know that he was probably grinning. Slipping back into the comfortable silence, you sighed once more, your fingers subconsciously fidgeting with the leather fabric of his arm wrapped around your stomach in front of you. Lifting the arm from around your stomach, you began to play with the leather-gloved hand.

David watched as you did so, watching as you fiddled with his fingers, bending them, or tracing the stitches along the side of the glove. You did this often, and David had no idea why you were so... Obsessed with his hands. And he never asked you why, but curiosity was almost burning a hole through him. Not to mention, his ego grew knowing that you were so obsessed with his hands.

Silently, without a word, he took his hand from your curious ones. You were about to say something but in awe, you watched as he raised a hand to his mouth. Your lips fell agape, your eyes trained on him - on his hand, lips, eyes - as he bit down on the tip of his gloved pointer finger. David’s eyes never left you as he slid off the glove in one agonizingly slow pull. Was it mighty attractive? The way he stared at you, the way his somewhat pointed canines peeked out between his lips as he bit into his glove… Yes, and it almost distracted you from the fact that he took his glove off. Your eyes dropped from his lips and soon found themselves solely trained on his ungloved hand. His pale skin looked so smooth, his fingers long and slender.

And like a fly to a bright light, you were captivated. Slowly, carefully, you reached out, and the moment your skin touched his, you felt a warm sensation rush throughout your body. His skin was cold to the touch, but you didn't mind it. And as you did with his gloved hand, you began to trace lines along the inside of his palm with your fingertips.

David's eyes stayed focused on you; his brow furrowed slightly, but he remained silent as you traced over the lines of his skin. And then, slowly, he lifted his hand from yours, his thumb coming up to cup your chin; gently lifting your head to look at him. Your heart skipped a beat when your eyes met his, once more the intensity of his stare sent shivers down your spine.

He didn't say anything, no, only brushing the pad of his thumb against your bottom lip, before leaning down to capture your lips with his. The kiss itself was soft, tender; which was rare. You were so used to him being rough around the edges, rough and addicting. Taking your lips into his, devouring you. You always liked it, the feel of his lips, his tongue, and even his leather-gloved hands on your skin. But tonight, it was different. It was slow, deliberate. It was as if he was trying to memorize the very taste and shape of your lips.

You loved the rough, mischievous sides of David, but you also loved the soft and loving side that he possessed.

As his lips fell from yours, you let out a breath, and opened your eyes; immediately you noticed the shift in David’s demeanor. His usually bright, mischievous gaze had darkened, his pupils blown wide, and the faint shimmer of his fangs peeked out from under his lips. His bare hand, which had been gently resting on the back of your neck, twitched almost involuntarily, the grip tightening ever so slightly as if he were holding back.

It only took a moment to understand. Once fixated on yours, his eyes slowly drifted lower, lingering at the curve of your throat, his gaze becoming more intense. You knew that look - dark and hungry.

His fingers brushed through your hair, slowly tucking the strands away from your neck, exposing the skin he so craved. You could feel his breath on your throat, hot and deliberate, sending shivers down your spine. You weren’t scared. He’d bitten you before; you had faint marks from the previous blood-sucking events. Though, you would never admit it, there was something about the way it felt - intimate, addicting - that you found yourself... Enjoying it.

You sighed softly, tilting your head just enough to meet his eyes. “David… Are you hungry?”

A smirk tugged at the corner of his lips, his eyes gleaming with that dangerous edge you’d come to love. His voice dropped, low and seductive. “You know me all too well, love.” His thumb grazed your neck, teasing the skin as he continued, “I could never hide it from you, could I?” His words hung in the air, thick with desire and danger, that smirk only deepening as he leaned in, lips ghosting over your pulse. "The real question is… Are you going to stop me?" His tone was playful, but beneath it, there was that unmistakable hunger. And you knew you wouldn’t stop him. You never did.

His lips hovered just above your pulse, the warmth of his breath brushing against your skin. You could feel the tension in the air, thick and electric, as David’s hand slowly curled tighter at the back of your neck, holding you in place, though you weren’t planning on moving. His smirk lingered as he pressed a featherlight kiss to the side of your throat, the contrast between the softness of his lips and the sharpness of his intentions sending your heart racing.

"I haven't stopped you before..." You muttered, your eyes slipping shut as he continued trailing kisses.

“Such a sweet little thing,” He murmured against your skin, dripping with vampiric desire.

His fangs, now fully visible, glinted in the soft light of the cave as he pulled back just enough for you to see the hunger in his eyes. Their darkness had deepened, and his pupils were blown wide, swallowing the usual teasing glint that danced there. You felt your blood pounding in your chest and throbbing at your throat - exactly where he wanted it.

David’s hand slid from your neck to your waist, pulling you flush against him, his other hand threading into your hair. He tipped your head to the side, exposing the curve of your neck fully to him, his eyes following the path of your pulse like a predator watching its prey. His lips ghosted over your skin, and you could feel the sharp points of his fangs just grazing your flesh.

You swallowed hard, the mix of fear and excitement coursing through you like adrenaline. “I won't stop you,” You whispered, your voice breathy as your hands gripped the fabric of his leather jacket.

A dark chuckle escaped him, the sound vibrating against your throat. “I know you won’t,” He replied, his voice dangerously smooth; sinful. “You like this… Don’t you?” But, before you could answer, you heard Paul and Marko’s laughter.

David sighed heavily, as did you, his face digging into your neck, his eyes shutting. There goes your moment…

“Guess who brought dinner!?” Paul yelled out, dragging along some guy’s almost dead body along the cave floor. Behind him, Marko had a grin on his face, noticing how he and the other two boys had unintentionally ruined your private moment together.

David raised his head, his usual stoic expression appearing on his face, his hands gripping your waist in annoyance. “You did save some for the rest of us, right?” He asked, tilting his head, and Paul nodded his head.

“Yeah, there’s enough for all of us,” Paul huffed, nudging the unconscious body with his foot.

David hummed, before gently scooting you to sit on the couch as he stood. You let out a sigh, crossing your arms as Marko, Paul, and David began to dig in. Dwayne came over to you, silent and quiet as always, carrying a bag of Chinese takeout. With an appreciative smile, you thanked him, taking your food.

At least you got your sweet and sour pork…

~~~

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hoonieyun · 1 month ago

Text

decisions must be made

welcome to, "is he mr. right?", the dating game! where a lucky girl who is looking for love has the opportunity to go on a date with four handsome and eager bachelor's who are also looking for love.

this is an interactive dating show au where the readers can vote on "yn's" decisions, ultimately leading to who she will be with at the end... but more on that later!

heeseung 𐐪♡𐑂 jongseong 𐐪♡𐑂 jaeyun 𐐪♡𐑂 sunghoon

warnings: some profanity but not much i don't think! pls lmk if i need to add any, 18+ and not proofread hehe

wc: 6583

episode seven: decisions must be made

“wow! we’re merely just a few days away from our dove, yn, choosing her mr. right.” the love magician smiles into the camera as she addresses viewers at home and those in the studio for live filming.

today would mark the second to last episode of your season and the closer it gets to the finale, the harder it becomes to choose who you’d like to be your mr. right. granted, it wasn’t like anything had to be official after the season ended, but you did come here to find love so you’d hope it would be something you got by the end of it.

“alright, before we introduce our dove and the bachelor’s we’ve got a special treat for all of you. this season has brought on the best moments that have gone viral on the internet! we’ve also reached a new level of viewership– wow! you guys love this cast because our views increased by 86% in comparison from the last season.

sorry to the people of last season..” she says sheepishly with a small grin.

“as a special gift, we’ve compiled some moments from each date that didn’t make the final cut. this way, you all can see more about each date and bachelor so that when the live voting begins, you can have more information to sway your decision.”

the crowd cheers at the news, all the while the staff is setting up the stage to display the never before seen clips, the love magician moves to the side and allows the audience to take it all in. the lights get low and in just a few seconds, jake appears on the screen; showing a scene from your date that they didn’t air.

-`♡´-

the camera man follows you two as you walk through the amusement park, you have two stuffed animals in your arms and jake is snacking on some cotton candy. “hmm?” he hums as he offers you some of his sweet and sugary floss, you nod in response and open your mouth slightly as jake pulls a piece off of the pink and blue fluff and gently places it in your mouth.

it instantly melts inside your mouth and the simple moment melts your heart as it brings you back to the several times jake used to feed you when you were dating. “yn! look!” jake says, wide eyed and smiles even wider as he points and runs to a different game.

you laugh at his excited demeanor and follow him to wherever he had run off to. come to find him handing the staff in charge of the game some money so he could play; the game was something simple– pop all of the balloons with only 3 tries, if you achieve this then you get awarded a large stuffed animal of your choice.

jake was always really good at all of these types of things, carnival games, crane games, whatever it was; he was good at it. it reminded you of when you were on a date with jake at an arcade and the staff had to ask you all to stop playing the crane game because jake had won 7 plushies from one machine.

“watch and learn, princess. i’ll get you one of the big ones.” jake says, bragging and not even realizing that he just called you the nickname he always did when you were dating. you watch him with a small smile, one that you try to hide with one of the large plushies in your arms; you can’t lie… jake looked insanely cute and those feelings you felt during your first date were all starting to return.

just as expected, jake wins the game much to the staff member’s disappointment. jake looks at you with a large smile as he waves you to come closer, “which one do you want?” he asks but before you can even choose a small boy gets your attention. you watch him shrug and drop his head low as he slouches– saddened because he didn’t win.

you nudge jake who was intensely looking at the variety of plushies, bottom lip jutting out as you get his attention– pointing him to the little boy. jake’s expression softens instantly and you both have an unspoken agreement.

jake crouches down to the boy’s height and asks him which stuffed animal he wanted, “that one?” jake asks, confirming with the small boy and he nods shyly. jake politely asks the worker for the large golden retriever stuffed animal. he takes it into his arms and crouches back down to the boy and hands it to him; the stuffed animal being almost twice the boy’s size.

“really?” he asks, bright eyed and now a smile on his face.

jake nods, “yeah, you earned it, bud.” he says, patting the boys head and slightly ruffling it.

“thank you, mister! mom! look!” the boy says, running off to his mom who watched him with a smile as her son runs with glee, the giant plushie bouncing in his small arms.

the moment is tender in your heart and it instantly makes you forget about all of the nerves you had having to go on a date with your ex on television.

-`♡´-

the camera cuts briefly and returns, now showing you and jay sitting with one another; his guitar in your arms as he gently wraps his around you.

“like this?” you ask, fingers awkwardly fidgeting with the strings.

jay smiles to himself as he continues to guide you, “almost..” he mutters close to your ear. goosebumps rising on your neck from the feeling of his breath but also the closeness in proximity that you were both in.

his hands are soft and gentle and you can’t help but melt into the warmth radiating off of him; you look up at jay as he’s focused on your fingers, taking the moment to admire his features– “do i have something on my face?” jay says, suddenly turning to look at you and catching your gaze.

you stutter a small no before turning away, hoping that the heat rising to your cheeks went unnoticed by jay.

it doesn’t.

jay continues to show you how to play some of the guitar, occasionally complimenting him and thanking him.

“okay, show me what i taught you.” jay says, pulling himself away from you to watch and although he doesn’t want to move away; he must so he can fully enjoy the view of you playing his guitar.

you place your fingers on the correct frets and strings, looking up at jay through your lashes for approval and jay sends you a warm smile and nods. the smile melts your heart and you almost forget that you were supposed to play the guitar for a moment. you clear your throat before strumming the guitar– a beautiful humming sound emerges from the instrument and although you accidentally move to an incorrect chord, jay’s smile doesn’t falter once as he watches you play.

it felt so intimate for jay to watch you play his guitar because that guitar was like his baby, he didn’t even let his parents or best friends play it, but seeing you with his guitar just looked like it was meant to be.

“how was that?” you ask as you finish playing, biting your bottom lip as you wait for his response.

“you’re perfect..” he breathes out, not realizing that he commented on you instead of how well you played the guitar.

-`♡´-

like clockwork, when the scene ends the other soon starts after. sunghoon is gliding around the ice gracefully as he holds your hand– slightly afraid that you might fall over.

“sunghoon, i’m literally going to die!!” you say dramatically as your eyes are glued to the floor, afraid that you’ll eventually be coming in contact with it. sunghoon gently glides the two of you from the center of the ice to the edges so you’re able to hold onto the railing.

“can you like– i don’t know.. just show me some cool tricks while i catch my breath. i feel like i’m going to faint.” you breathe out, an exhausted but exaggerated expression on your face.

“fine. fine.. but don’t worry– if you faint, i’ll catch you.” sunghoon assures you with a warm smile, opposite of the cold air surrounding you both. you look away as his gaze was too intense, making you blush shyly.

sunghoon eventually skates just a few feet away to show you some tricks, a triple axel, a leap, anything he could do to impress you– but in all honesty, just being able to skate and not trip or fall was impressive enough. he had such a natural talent for this that you couldn’t help but feel honored to watch him in his craft.

you admired sunghoon’s grace and beauty as he skated across the ice. it was a magical sight, the ice breaking creating small particles that seemed to float and follow him like there were whimsical fragments of light as if was the prince in a fairytale.

he wasn’t far from it.

sunghoon looked over to you any time he did something special, after his triple axel; his eyes went to you to see your reaction. a leap across the ice? his eyes were watching you the whole time, a sense of confidence surrounding him like he didn’t even need to watch where he was going to know that he’d land perfectly.

it wasn’t until he was coming back to you that his graceful and magical demeanor ended. sunghoon had found himself all the way on the other end of the ice rink so he skated back to you, a smile on his face as he looked at you cheering and applauding him and before he knew it, his eyes were suddenly staring at the ceiling several yards above him and his back was now flat on the ice.

a gasp escapes your lips as you watch sunghoon trip and fall, a surge of energy shoots through your body and your previous inability to skate by yourself further than a few feet has long gone as you sped over to him but your ice skating abilities catch up to you and just as you’re about to crouch down and ask if sunghoon was okay, your legs become animated like a cartoon character– going back and forth as you try to fight for balance and eventually land on the ice, bottom first.

it was quite embarrassing but because you and sunghoon had practically fallen next to each other, the two of you couldn’t do anything but laugh as you both sat on the ice.

“that was…” you start, your nose and cheeks a bright shade of pink.

“cute..” sunghoon finishes, standing up on his skates with no problem as he picks you up off the ice. your hand in his feels comfortable, familiar even, and your eyes lock and time seems to slow down the longer the two of you stare into each other’s eyes.

all the while, the camera zooms in on sunghoon’s eyes trailing from your eyes, down your nose, and stopping at your lips.

-`♡´-

it was early on in your date with heeseung, the clip they were currently showing, the sun was just beginning to set as it paints the atmosphere in beautiful warm tones of pink and orange. you wished that you could see a sunset like this every night but because you knew you couldn’t you wanted to bask in all of it’s beauty. taking it in, letting your eyes shut for a moment as the light breeze sweeps across your face.

until a shriek breaks you out of the serenity you were swimming in, heeseung frantically flailing his arms around like he was one of the inflatable balloon people at a car dealership.

“what’s wrong! are you okay??” you ask, eyes wide with worry.

“bee!!” heeseung shouts and your vision narrows on the tiny insect currently tormenting your date. you couldn’t help but laugh to yourself at heeseung’s cute expression and actions. he was much taller than you but right now it was like the bee was three times his size as he hunches over, eyes shut and lips pursed, while he swats his hands haphazardly in hopes of getting rid of the annoying bug.

you take it upon yourself to save him and in one quick moment, you swat the bee with minimal effort and it seems to just fly away– no longer finding interest in heeseung.

“hee– heeseung! it’s gone.” you say, trying to get his attention while he was still panicked.

heeseung peeks one of his eyes open and when he doesn’t see or hear the bee anymore, he opens them both and straightens himself out– acting as if nothing had happened. heeseung clears his throat and tousled his hair before speaking, “lets act like that didn’t happen..” he says but you can’t help but laugh, to which heeseung pouts.

“hey..” he says in a sulky tone.

“don’t worry, heeseung. your knight in shining armor is here.” you say, placing your right hand over your chest like a noble knight, earning a laugh from heeseung and eventually you as the two of you talk about how silly he must’ve looked– heeseung trying– and failing, to defend himself.

“hey… what can i say i’m sweet like honey.” he says, playing it off coolly in a nonchalant manner as if he wasn’t just panicking like a small child. his remark was corny but you still find yourself swooning and laughing at him but not before a playful eye roll.

-`♡´-

after the clip with heeseung ends, the audience are roaring with laughter and applause as the lights slowly turn back on in the studio with the love magician taking her place on stage just as the camera’s are about to pan in on her.

“aww– aren’t our little lovebirds cute!” she begins.

“i don’t about you guys but i think our little yn has a big decision on her hands but i do know this! she is lucky to choose any of these guys and the guys are even luckier if she chooses them.

i hope you all enjoyed those never before seen clips!”

the audience roars in applause and cheer once again, it was so loud you could hear it from your dressing room.

“speaking of our lovebirds, let’s bring them out!

he’s the ice prince of this season, mixing his striking features, his olympic level figuring skating abilities, and a transformation from shy boy to cool guy; everyone please cheer for sunghoon!”

the crowd cheers for sunghoon as he steps from behind the sugar wall. he flashes his bright smile and waves back to the crowd and takes a spot next to the love magician.

“sunghoon, how are you feeling?” she asks.

“i’m thrilled, thank you for the introduction by the way.” he says, giving her a small wink. “i’m glad to be known as the cool guy now.” sunghoon adds, lightly brushing his hand through his hair.

“i mean, you are very cool– just look at this outfit!”

the stylists had done a really great job of creating an ensemble of outfits that look cohesive but not identical. sunghoon was wearing a stylish black adidas track jacket over a baby blue button up with matching black tie and slacks. he looked effortlessly cool in his outfit that combines the best parts of a strong athletic guy with classic influences.

“thank you! you know our stylists work really hard to make us look good– i just so happen to make it easy to look really good.” he jokes, surprising the host and audience by his remark as they all swoon for this “cool guy” persona he was putting on.

“up next! we’ve got a first of the season. this sweet boy brought a shock as being the ex of our very own dove. he’s got a silky smooth australian accent that makes us all swoon paired with irresistible puppy eyes. please give a warm welcome to jake!”

jake’s smile was bright enough to outshine all of the studio lights as he waved and approached the host, giving her a small bow and hug. the crowd adored jake and were rooting for him especially after hearing the story about your history with each other.

he places his hand over his chest with a pout at the overwhelming cheers of the crowd when he appeared. he claps his hand together, thanking the audience for their support. “jake! my, oh my! how are you?”

“i’m great.” he says, australian accent charming as ever. “the crowd is so welcoming and nice, it feels so good. thank you everyone, really!” he adds.

the crowd cheers again, seemingly in love with jake no matter what he did.

“you feel great and look even better!” she compliments him and jake blushes momentarily.

he was wearing a leather biker jacket with black, white, and blue details. a white cloudy hoodie underneath that makes him look equally stylish and cuddly as the large hoodie swallows him up like it was a soft blanket.

jake had the ability to make anything he wears look cute and cool, an effortless talent.

“now, this next bachelor surprised us all with his honey-like vocals and incredible talent for the guitar. he’s got a strong aura but is a softie at heart; the very first bachelor of this season who set the tone and gave the rest of the guys big shoes to fill– put your hands together for jay!”

jay saunters over to the host with a gravitating aura surrounding him. no matter who was around him, it was inevitable that all eyes would be on him at some point. his looked handsome as ever he subtly shows off his sharp features, eyes that pierces through the soul, lips ever so plump, and sculpted jaw on display.

“wow, jay! you’re looking good, how are you feeling, excited?”

“very! you know this experience was extremely exciting and i’m a bit sad it’s coming to an end soon.”

the crowd coos at his response, all eyes on him as he continues his conversation with the host.

“you look handsome by the way, i mean you always do– all of our bachelor’s do, don’t you guys think?” the love magician says, hyping up the crowd.

jay thanks her for the compliment and briefly straightens out his coat.

he was wearing an all black outfit that outlined his body in the best way possible; highlighting his broad shoulders and strong stature. jay had this ability of drawing attention no matter where he went, the astounding energy in this room proves that.

“i’m so happy to be here, thank you for having me.” he says, flashing his smile with his cute dimple before taking a seat next to the two other bachelor’s.

“our last bachelor showed us that coming in last doesn’t matter when you have charisma and charm. his thoughtful and beautiful date with our dove made us swoon, laugh, and fall in love with him– he’s red hot with fiery hair and a killer smile; let’s give a warm welcome to heeseung!

the applause for heeseung was so loud he’s briefly startled, eyes wide and lips in a small pout as he reacts to all of the cheers for him. people in the crowd going as far as barking at him, to which he shyly laughs at– covering his face with a chuckle.

“heeseung! welcome! how do you do?”

“i’m so good! you know i think i heard some barking– i’m not completely sure what it means but i’ll take it.” he responds, smiling at the host and the crowd. his smile was bright but eyes brighter as he took it all in. heeseung knew he came off a bit standoff-ish during the second episode so he worked extra hard to redeem himself to show that he wasn’t actually like that.

“now… heeseung– don’t be alarmed but there’s a bee!” the host teases and heeseung pretends to be scared, hiding behind the host as a joke, garnering laughs from everyone in the room including the three bachelor’s behind him.

heeseung’s outfit was a mixture of streetwear and grunge with modern elements of classicware– he looked like he had just stepped out of a magazine with the way he effortlessly modeled the clothes.

the host thanks him for his time and he cutely trots over to his seat next to the rest of the guys.

“now, i know these guys are all handsome and cute but let’s be real– we’ve all been waiting for this very special girl. she needs no introduction as she’s been an all time favorite across the internet, you know her as the sweet girl who wears her heart on her sleeve and spreads love everywhere she goes– please give a huge round of applause for our dove: YN!”

at this point, nerves barely existed for you anymore as you grew more and more comfortable on the stage and in front of the crowd and audience.

their cheers however, was something you could never get used to.

your smile warmed the room as you walked from behind the sugar wall, dress bouncing with each step and hair flowing behind you. everyone in the audience had their eyes on you but all you could feel was the gaze of the four boys as you walked by them.

jake seemingly looks like he was seeing you again for the first time, deja vu of love at first sight.

heeseung cheers and hollers for you, clapping as loud as he can.

sunghoon smiles at you the way he smiles at everything he adores and loves, eyes crinkling.

and jay had his eyes glue on you from the moment you appeared, eyes trailing your figure up and down; bottom lip shortly caught in between his teeth that certainly doesn’t go unnoticed by the cameras.

“my god, yn.. you look stunning– i mean.. just wow!”

“thank you, you know i try to look my best because i know you’re gonna be here.” you say, playfully flirting with her. “oh stop… no– keep going.”

the audience laughs at your little banter, all the while you could still feel the gaze of the boys behind you like their vision was shooting heat lasers into your back. you quickly look back at all of them with a small smile and they all look away as if they had just got caught doing something they shouldn’t.

your dress was one of your favorites that you had worn all season long. you didn’t really know how to describe it because it combined so many styles of fashion and blended them in ways that made you feel so confident and beautiful in a way that you hadn’t felt prior. you had an off the shoulder sleeve made up of a blue gingham button up but the rest of the dress bloomed at your hips with a corset taking you in at the waist.

the outfit was constructed so well and you couldn’t thank the stylists enough. you take a seat in the final chair on the lineup as the love magician addresses the audience and explains what the next portion of the episode would be about. all eyes were on the host as she went into the next segment.

“alright, folks. this part of the episode will feature our audience question and answer! we’ve asked you all to submit some questions from our live studio audience and those at home and we’ve hand selected a few to ask our lovebirds.”

she goes on to say that they’ve selected one question for each of you and that she’d be starting with you, your eyes widen at her statement but you nod and smile nonetheless.

“yn, what was the best part of each date?”

you ponder on your response as the crowd erupts with an “ooh” as they hear the question. the events of each date replay in your mind and you smile to yourself as you recall everything, the audience and the love magician get excited for your response as they watch you. “i think each date was really nice and it truly made me happy how each of them put so much effort into each one. each date was so special so it’s really hard to choose the best part but i think from first date to the last date: the best part of the date with jay was watching him talk about his love for playing guitar and cooking. i think it’s such a simple conversation between us but the way he had so much passion for these things warmed my heart because i could tell how much it meant to him and it felt really endearing that he shared those types of things with me on that date when he made me a song and taught me some of it on the guitar and even chose a restaurant that he knew i’d enjoy even though he didn’t know a lot about me. for my date with jake,i think shocking would be a good word to describe it because i really wasn’t expecting to see him. the best part of the date was going on the ferris wheel. i think the moment i shared with jake up there was really special because it made me forget that the cameras were there and it felt like it was just the two of us. sunghoon’s date was really fun, falling on my ass was definitely hilarious but i’m glad to share that moment with him and with all of you– although i didn’t know they were going to air that moment! the best part is definitely going to be whenever sunghoon showed off a bit to impress me– i don’t know! i think i just really like it when a guy is confident in himself and can show that without coming off as cocky or aggressive in some way. with heeseung, honestly, that date was really really good– it was a lot of something i had never done before, especially the lantern making. i know a picnic date is really simple but the way everything came together made it even more special and the lanterns were just so beautiful i think the best part was just watching heeseung make it because he was so determined to make it look beautiful for me.” the crowd goes wild at your thoughtful response and all of the guys do their best to act like they weren’t falling deeper and deeper for you with every word that left your lips.

“jay! how did it feel going first and do you think you left a strong enough impression?”

“going first is for sure a bit nerve-wracking but i was confident in myself that i had prepared a really exciting and special date for yn. everything i did had her in mind and i threw aspects of myself into it because i wanted to show her parts of me instead of just saying it. i definitely think i left a strong impression because, this is exclusive news, i’ve heard several staff humming the song i wrote so i definitely think i left a great impression.” you nod and laugh to the side in agreement, you’d be lying if you said that jay’s song hasn’t been stuck in your head since you first heard it.

“this one is for jake: how did it feel knowing she was your ex when you both saw each other and do you think your past will play a role in the results?”

the question comes as surprise to jake as it does to you but he doesn’t let it show, the slightest change in his expression is only noticed by you. “you know.. i came on this show for love– as we all did i think. but um, it was really surprising, for sure. we hadn’t seen each other in a while and it hit me really hard to see her but there was this warm feeling in my chest. before that i was really nervous to meet her but when i saw her and it was yn, my ex, the nerves were replaced with relief. i’m not sure why but yeah– i also think that our past and present doesn’t determine anything and i will respect yn’s choices in the end no matter what.”

“for sunghoon, how did you overcome your shyness and do you think your shyness helped or hindered you on this show?”

“i’m really not that shy, i think i was just a bit self preserved because the experience was new to me but i knew that i’d warm up eventually which is good because i got to show yn who i really was. honestly, i didn’t think i was being that shy during the question and answer but watching it back i definitely was a bit timid. maybe my shyness helped because i was able to show a new side of me to yn and im just happy to have impressed her and made her laugh so much.”

“and finally, heeseung! how did it feel to go last and also have to change your date because someone already did what you wanted to do?”

“haha, it wasn’t scary at all to go last. i think it was really nice because we kind of got to close out that portion of the show together, the sunset was so beautiful the cameras don’t do it justice. as for changing my date, i was pretty surprised that someone else had the idea of making a song which is really cool because music is really powerful– jay, your song was wonderful i’m glad you got to share it, man.”

-`♡´-

the crowd cheered for all of you responses, everyone falling in love with all of you with each answer but it only made it even harder for the viewers on who they wanted you to end up with. you were in deep thought whenever one of the guys answered their question, taking everything into consideration for your final decision.

all of this was really fun but it was getting harder to focus as the reality of the show was getting closer and closer, after today, you were going to need to make a decision and choose one of the four guys as your “mr. right.” was the pressure getting to you, just a bit.

but you weren’t going to let that prevent you from enjoying everything this show had to offer.

-`♡´-

the next portion of the episode was a quick round compatibility test between you and the boys, the host would rapid fire say announce an opinion of some sort and you’d have to state your opinion and see which of the boys share the same opinion.

“okay, first one: mint chocolate ice cream, yes or no?”

all of the boys scrunched their faces when they heard the question but your face lit up, smiling at the words of your favorite ice cream. it was 1:4 when it came to your singular yes to mint chocolate and a no from each boy. “looks like you’re the only one who likes mint chocolate ice cream, yn..” your mouth falls open in shock, rolling your eyes at the boys and teasing them that they have bad taste in ice cream but at least they have good taste in something else, alluding that you were talking about yourself. the crowd loves your little remark and loves even more that you’re not afraid to banter with the boys.

“looks or personality?”

to which you all choose personality. “honestly, good question! that was a little test for you boys.” you added, laughing at their answers as the crowd joins in on the laughter.

“is fighting healthy in a relationship?”

the answer was two yes’ and three no’s. the crowd releases interjections of “oohs” and “aahs” when they see the answers. you and jake both had said no while all of the other boys said yes. the host doesn’t give you time to elaborate or explain your answers but you and jake both had a silent agreement on why your answers ended up the same. your relationship with each other was beautiful and it was filled with happiness but you and jake just couldn’t come to an agreement on where your relationship was going. one wanted something and the other wanted something else– eventually ending in a breakup.

“date night in or date night out?”

everyone but heeseung chooses a date night in, to which he explains that, “what can i say, i like being about and about.” he says, shrugging with a small pout– puffing up his cheeks like a cute hamster.

-`♡´-

“that concludes our rapid fire compatibility portion, out of the four boys, the one who matched the most answers with the ever so lovely, yn, is…”

she pauses for dramatic effect and a low drumroll emerges through the speakers of the studio, “with 3 matching answers… is jake!” the crowd cheers at her announcement and both you and jake have identical reactions when you hear her.

you shyly cover your face and jake just bites his lip in response, tongue briefly slipping out of his mouth to moisten his lips.

there was a mutual understanding between everyone on why jake out of all four boys happened to pass the compatability test. he was your ex after all.

“as we go into the last section of today’s episode, here is your reminder that voting will end in 30 minutes meaning that the live voting for who you think should be mr. right will close and any votes after it closes will not count! remember… your vote doesn’t mean that the boy with the most votes will become mr. right– it merely just shows yn and everyone else on who you all think best suits our dove.

now, let’s get into our final segment before we announce who won the public vote.”

she goes onto to explain that the last segment will be fairly short as all of the boys will “plead their case” hence, explain to you in a short answer on why they should be your mr. right. when you said the nerves had left your body because you were enjoying the show, you weren’t lying, but right now; the nerves have definitely come back.

“okay, boys– please stand next time and we’ll go down the line and have each of you explain why you should be yn’s mr. right.”

jay: yn, thank you for the time we’ve shared together. i’m your mr. right because i’m a caring person and i’ve shown that to you in the short amount of time we’ve had together. i’ll only go on into the future to show you how much i will care for you, i’ll follow you to the edges of the earth and i’ll be your biggest support in anything you do.

jake: yn, we have a long history together and i think this moment has brought us back together because of fate. i’m your mr. right because reuniting with you after so long and finding each other again shows how strong our bond is– like the universe is giving us a sign and i’ll be the first to say that i want to rebuild our bond and grow stronger… together.

sunghoon: hi yn, i know this is probably a lot for you so i just want you to know that any decision you make is the right decision and i think i can speak for all of us when i saw that we’ll all be happy with any decision. i’m your mr. right because i think we’re the most similar, being with you is so easy and whenever i’m with you i feel like i don’t have to be anyone but me. you make me feel so comfortable and happy and i want to you to be able to feel the way you’ve made me feel.

heeseung: being around you is like being with your best friend at all times and i think we’ll also be able to challenge each other to do new and scary things but as long as we’re by each other’s side then we’ll know everything will be alright. i'm your mr. right because we bring out the best in one another.

all of their responses were so heartfelt and did not help you make any decision. it may sound crazy to say but you truly had a spot for each of these boys in your heart and it was going to be a tough decision to make until the very end. you even found yourself wiping a tear from your eyes as you listened to their answers– their well thought out responses melted your heart.

“these boys really know how to make a girl feel special!” the host says.

“now… voting has closed and i will now announce the ranking of each bachelor based on live voting on who you all think should be mr. right.”

the crowd cheers and hypes up the anctipation as the boys take their spots next to you, two boys on each side of you as you wait for the results. you were barely paying any attention because all you could think about was the fact that you had to make a really important choice in the next 48 hours.

“woah.. in last place we have two boys sharing the 3rd spot, with a 12% in voting is jake and jay!” the crowd cheers regardless of their placement in voting and the boys show their gratitude as they know the voting is the personal opinion of viewers and in all honesty, they valued your opinion the most.

“now our second and first place with 32% and 44%, respectively… in second place is sunghoon which means heeseung has gained the most votes when it comes to who the public thinks should be mr. right!”

heeseung is shocked at the news as he wasn’t sure if he was able to redeem this persona he had early on in the season but it seems he was able to win people over so it was good to know that he was first in voting, all he could think about, however, was if that was enough for you to choose him.

sunghoon on the other hand hasn’t stopped smiling as he hears the results of his peers. he was genuinely happy to be there amongst them and even happier to have been able to share these moments with you.

he wasn’t lying when he said he’d be happy regardless of your decision because all of this was truly special to him and he’d never forget any of it.

“we’ll see you all next week when we announce the winner of this season where our lovely dove, yn, will decide who she chooses as her mr. right! say goodnight love birds!”

you all shout “goodnight lovebirds” in unison while waving to the audience and cameras, smiles on each of your faces except yours. you’re smiling, however, it doesn’t reach your eyes as your mind begins to do gymnastics on how you were going to come up with a decision. you thought that the voting would help in some way but it only made things harder as you go over the new information to consider.

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hoonieyun notes: eee!! second to last chapter of my 1k special!! i can't believe it's almost over i've gained so much followers since then so thank you all so much TT thank you for voting on the poll from last week!! i know this chapter is somewhat of a filler chapter but it turned out pretty hefty lol but trust and believe i'll be working on the last chapter to make it extra juicy for you guys like they do it for real reality tv hehe also pls vote in the poll below i want to personally see who you think i've chosen as the winner!

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