#'if I just make him be here it's fine right?'

[shawtuzi]

STRETCH YOU OUT

pairing: ex boyfriend! toji x reader/// cw include: porn with plot, toji is pathetic but in a hot way, a little angst, oral f receiving, good ole make up sex, really really soft sex that eventually gets rough, unprotected sex, breeding kink, creampie obvi, a smidge of aftercare, rushed but happy ending!! edit: i finally proofread this i didn’t realize there were so many mistakes so sorry bout that!!

˚ʚ♡ɞ

“y/nnnn! baby please talk to me! i see you looking at through the curtain!” you jumped back, closing the curtain with quickness. you rubbed your temples, letting out a deep sigh.

toji was back trying to win your forgiveness. again. for the third time that week.

after a very heated argument that involved him calling you a bitch you sent that man packing, not even looking back as you slammed the door in his face.

toji could be a good boyfriend when he felt like it, which was a problem for you. you wanted stability, someone you could depend on, have children with—but you just weren’t sure toji wanted the same thing. his promises felt empty, like he was only saying it to make you happy and that’s what pissed you off more than anything. him calling you a bitch was just the icing on top of the worlds shittiest cake

you could still remember the look of shock on his face as you told him to get the fuck on and never come back.

yet here he was for the third night in a row—sitting outside your apartment blasting ‘fallin’ by alicia keys from his car with the most beat up looking bouquet of flowers you’ve ever seen in his arms.

you suddenly heard a loud knock at your door, making you jump. you looked through the peephole, sighing when you saw your neighbor suguru, a very agitated look on his face.

“can i help you?” you asked cracking the door open, already knowing he was about to give you an earful about toji.

“this is the third time that guy has shown up here blasting that loud ass music, and he keeps yelling your name. you gonna do something about?” he asked, cocking an eyebrow. you kissed your teeth, opening the door wider, “i don’t know what the hell you expect me to do? he’s a grown ass man—”

“a grown ass man that has ties to you! fix it y/n or i won’t be so nice asking next time—” geto was cut off by you slamming the door in his face, letting out a sound of surprise. “bitch…” he muttered, walking back to his apartment.

you sighed once more, letting your forehead fall against the door. “fucking toji,” you growled, pushing off the door, walking over the window where you were watching toji. you yanked open the curtains, met once again with sight of toji belting out whatever r&b song was playing in his car.

you opened the window, sticking your head out the slightest bit. “y/n, baby! you came back!” he let out a sound of relief. you shook your head in annoyance, “turn that shit off and go home toji,” you hissed, making him frown and shake his head. you narrowed your eyes at the man, giving him the best death glare you could manage.

although you did put a little fear in his body, toji stood his ground, taking it a step further by turning up the stereo in his car. “i’m not leaving till we talk and baby you know i got time,” he glared right back at you, smirking because he knew that you knew he was indeed right. your nostrils flared in anger, your fist closing up ready to straight up punch this man in his jaw.

“ugh fine just turn that shit off before anyone complains,” you slammed your window shut, irritation radiating off every inch of your body. wow did this man had a lot of fucking nerve, but it’s okay you were ready to let him have it the second he stepped into your apartment.

it didn’t take long for toji to make it to your apartment, breathless and jittery but nonetheless excited to finally be in your presence again. you slowly opened the door, a frown etched onto your pretty, plump lips.

“hi baby….can i come in?” you didn’t say anything, instead you just stepped aside allowing him into the warmth of your apartment. the smell of caramel and honey hit his nose, relaxing him the tiniest bit.

it was silent for a few moments, no one saying anything until toji finally broke the silence. “before you go off on me just hear me out okay? sit. please,” toji ushered you over to the couch, his heart tightening when you shook his touch off.

“you know i don’t think you’re no bitch right? i’m sorry i even said it i hope we can move past it…” you looked at him, your brows furrowing, waiting for him to continue with his “apology”. when nothing else was said you couldn’t help but shake your head and laugh.

“toji…you think i kicked you out all because you called me a bitch….nothing else?” you were laughing but nothing was funny and that’s what was freaking toji the fuck out. he didn’t say anything which was just pissing you off even more.

“i kicked your ass out because i don’t even know what we’re doing anymore toji! you come and go as you please, you don’t talk to me and i mean really talk to me about shit like our future or if you even see a future with me. this relationship feels one sided whether you believe it and i’m sick of it—i don’t even believe you anymore whenever you say you love me. you haven’t touched me in god knows how long— *hiccup*

you hadn’t even realized you started crying till you felt little salty droplets fall on your thighs. you squeezed your eyes shut, bowing your head down as you tried to control your breathing.

“an—and now you got me fucking c-crying and shit—i hate you, i hate you so much,” you wiped your tears with the back of your hand but they just kept falling. toji’s eyes were wide as he watched you cry—over him of all fucking people. his chest felt impossibly tight, his throat feeling as if it would close up any minute.

you suddenly jumped up, “are you even gonna say anything?!” the volume of your voice took him by surprise, making him flinch. toji quickly stood up, resting his hands on your shoulders but you only pushed him away. toji took a deep breath, muttering out a small ‘sorry’ before pulling you into his arms.

“let go of me toji, jus’ leave,” but toji only shushed your cries, hugging you to his chest tighter—not tight enough to hurt you of course. he pressed multiple kisses to the crown of your head, rocking the two of you side to side while you silently cried into his shirt.

he cracked the tiniest smile when he finally felt you clutch onto his shirt, your nose nuzzling more into his chest. “just breathe and listen to me okay?” toji waited for you to verbally answer before speaking once more.

“i do love you y/n, there is no one else for me but you. it’s just—whenever you talk about that stuff i get scared shitless. i never pictured myself as the husband type or the dad type until just recently and even then i feel like id be shit at it. then you’d eventually realize you could do better n’ leave me,” he said the last part so quietly you almost didn’t hear it. panic washed over toji’s face when you began to cry harder.

“that’s why you need to talk to me, if i would’ve known it spooked you i wouldn’t have kept pushing the idea,” you were so annoyed at him, but you definitely couldn’t ignore the way your heart swelled at his words. toji rested his cheek on the crown of your head, shutting his eyes, “i’m a fucking idiot. the biggest fucking idiot there ever were.”

“yeah you are,” you let out a tiny laugh, lifting your head up to get a good look at toji. his eyes were sad and cloudy, something you’ve never seen before, it made you wanna start bawling your eyes out all over again.

“i’m sorry baby, forgive me. please.” he pressed his forehead against yours, frowning when you wouldn’t meet his gaze. “why won’t you look at me? look at me please y/n.” still nothing.

you let out a noise of surprise when toji suddenly fell on his knees, his big hands clutching onto the soft fabric of your his pajama pants. you finally made eye contact with him, your eyes already brimming with hot tears once more.

“forgive me. i’ll do anything—anything you ask of me. just let me come back and love you the right way—the way i should’ve been doing all this time,” he wrapped his arms around your waist, burying his face in softness of your tummy. you ran your fingers through his hair, little hums of content leaving toji’s lips.

“fine. i forgive you toji.”

toji tilted his head up, his lips curling into a sad smile. you smiled back at him, giving his forehead three kisses before pushing him back. “now get your ass up you have a lot of making up to do,” you made your way to your bedroom, shedding your clothes on the way.

toji’s mouth was dropped in awe, his dick already twitching at the thought of finally being inside you again. he stood up on shaky legs, his eyes immediately locking on your discarded panties. he snatched them up and shamelessly took a look sniff, his eyes closing in utter bliss.

“what a fucking woman.”

“toji! bring your ass.”

“coming!”

˚ʚ♡ɞ

“a-ah! tojiii,” you mewled, yanking on toji’s jet black locks as he tongue fucked your pussy with everything he had in him. he had your knees pushed to your chest, securing them both with his large hands.

toji moaned into your pussy, swaying his head back and forth as he slurped up every drop you had to offer him. “s’fuckin’ good,” he slurred into your pussy, his dick jumping in his pants when he felt a gush of your wetness his his tongue.

he pushed his tongue into your clenching hole once more, his nose bumping into your clit each time his head moved. your toes curled in ecstasy as your second orgasm washed over you. “goddamn baby you tryna baptize me?” toji chuckled, giving your pussy three quick slaps.

“fuck you,” you mewled in overstimulation when you felt toji shove two fingers in your pussy, curling them just right. toji kissed his way up your body, stopping to give you a sloppy kiss.

“i intend to but i gotta stretch you out first if i wanna fit all the way in,” toji hummed, adding a third finger, his thumb quickly finding your clit to ease the stretch. you wrapped your arms around his neck, your whines and whimpers sounding like a symphony in his ears.

“feels so good toji,” you sighed dreamily, pressing your manicured toes against his hard on. toji hissed, his teeth catching onto his bottom lip hard enough to draw blood. “s’about to feel even better honey, open your legs,” toji swiftly removed his fingers from your cunt, a deep groan rumbling in his chest watching the way you clenched around nothing.

he pulled his sweats low enough for his dick to spring out but that wasn’t enough for you. “everything. take it all off, w’nna feel you against me,” your voice was so sweet and gentle compared to how it was earlier. it brought his heart so much peace knowing your words towards him were no longer full of anger and annoyance.

toji obeyed your wishes and removed everything. he pulled your body to the edge of the bed, pushing your knees to your chest once more. he tapped his dick against your pussy, fighting the urge to bust already just from how fucking wet your pussy sounded.

“ready for me baby?” his tone was soft as he slowly pushed the tip in. you nodded, your breath hitching when he pushed more in. it stayed like that for a moment—toji softly praising you as he slowly pushed all eight and a half inches of him inside you.

there we go—hah!” you both gasped in unison when he pushed himself in to the hilt. you feet knocked against his back, your body squirming at the feeling of being completely stuffed. “too big toji! it’s too much!” you tried to control you breathing you really did, but the way you could feel the thick veins on him throbbing against your walls had your mind already scrambled.

toji took in a long breath, attempting to get his thoughts together. this was about you not him. he was determined to make you see stars.

“you can take it baby—i know you can take it. gonna take me like a good girl like all those other times yeah? you wanna make me proud don’t you?” his thumbs caressed at your cheeks as he whispered sweet nothings in your ear. he finally felt your pussy ease up, allowing him to draw his hips back, then forward.

your eyes rolled into the back of your head, mouth dropping open as toji fucked you with every ounce of love he had to offer. “fell s’good around me baby, kept this pussy nice and tight for me. you knew i’d be back didn’t you?” both his strong arms caged your head, blocking you from seeing anything in the room but him. toji drew his hips back all the way before slamming back in, hissing when he felt your manicured fingers dig into his biceps.

“a-answer me y/n, answer me right now or m’gonna fucking pull out,” it was an empty threat, you both knew that, but that didn’t stop you from scrambling to find the words to answer him. “yessss yes i knew you’d be back! i— ah my god! i w-was waiting for an excuse to let you come in and i’m so hap—happy it happened!” even though your brain told itself multiple times to not let this man back into your life you heart was saying a whole nother thing. of course love always triumphs which is why toji’s got you folded like a damn pretzel, fucking into you so hard your body was sliding up the bed.

˚ʚ♡ɞ

“thas’ right baby take that fucking dick, take my cum so i can make you a pretty mommy,” toji growled pushing your face further into your pillows, drool and tears falling freely onto the soft cotton.

you’d lost track of how many rounds you’ve gone, your brain sounding like nothing but static. your hands that were once pushing against toji’s pelvis to slow his movements were now pinned to your back. you were filled with so much cum you almost felt bloated, but you didn’t care—not when toji was making the sweetest promises about making you a mother.

each time he came inside you he pushed any excess back into your spent pussy, and each time his dick got hard causing him to beg you for yet another round that you simply couldn’t refuse. this time around though you could tell he was tired, the way his thrusts went from sloppy to straight up grinding, the way he wasn’t even trying to contain his moans anymore—my mans was tired okay.

“i’m—i’m gonna cum again daddy, feels like a lot,” you clutched onto your pillow for dear life, your knees feeling like they were about to give out any second. one particular roll of his hips finally triggered your orgasm, making your eyes cross and your legs finally give out from beneath you.

that didn’t stop toji in fact it even encouraged him to be rougher, his thighs clapping against the backs of yours they were turning a light shade of pink. “f-fuck are you still fucking cumming? you’re soaking me doll,” he grunted, mesmerized by the way waves of cum leaked from your pussy each time he pulled out.

with one last thrust toji finished inside you with a deep groan, his chest rumbling against your back. toji sat back on his knees, whistling at the way his cum flooded out of your swollen pussy, staining your sheets even more. he kissed his way up your back, stopping at your neck to litter it with wet kisses.

“you okay mama?” he laid next you, pulling your limp body into his arms. you couldn’t respond—like actually you were entirely too fucking tired, so you settled on a loving pat on his chest along with a kiss to his jaw. toji chuckled, tilting his head to give your forehead three kisses.

as you dozed off to sleep in his arms toji took this time to admire you in your relaxed state. that furrow between your brows was no longer there, along with that oh so cute pout you were sporting when he first came inside your apartment.

“i’m gonna do right by you i promise y/n, i promise.”

[sergeantbarnessdoll]

Mornings With All Of You » Bucky Barnes/Winter Soldier

Pairings: Husband/Dad!Bucky x Wife/Mom/Pregnant!Reader with kids Becca and James Jr

Summary: Bucky enjoys his morning with his wife and kids.

Warnings: Fluff, language, kissing, nicknames/pet names

A/N: Thank you @buckys-wintersoldier for brainstorming ideas with me🥰🩵

Written on my phone. My apologies for any mistakes.

Header made by @buckys-wintersoldier

“Mommy said to not wake up daddy.” Yours and Bucky’s 4 year old daughter, Becca says to her 2 year old brother James Jr.

“Dada.” James Jr says, pointing at the closed bedroom door.

Bucky just got home from a two week long mission and you’re letting him sleep in. You told the kids to let their daddy sleep, but they didn’t listen. They just want daddy’s attention and lovings.

Becca is the smart one. She gets that from you. She knows it’s bad to disobey what you tell her and her brother, but she’s a total daddy’s girl. If she wants to see her daddy, she’ll see her daddy.

She walked to the closed bedroom door and stood on her tippy toes to open it. She held onto the wall so she didn’t fall. She opened the door with ease and pushed it open. Becca turned to James Jr and put a finger against her lips, telling him to be quiet as they walked in the bedroom where their daddy is sleeping.

Bucky may have enhanced hearing, but surprisingly he didn’t hear the door open and his kids walk in the room. They somehow to manage to climb up the side of the bed to get on top of it. They crawled to him and snuggled themselves under the blanket and against Bucky’s sides.

They couldn’t hold their giggles in. Bucky’s eyes fluttered open when he heard his kids’ giggles. He looked on both sides of him, seeing them laying next to him.

“Good morning, daddy.” They say at the same time.

“Good morning, munchkins.” Bucky says happily.

Bucky sat up, leaning his back against the headboard of the bed.

“Where’s mommy?” He asks.

“Cooking and baking room.” Becca answers.

That’s what she calls the kitchen.

“Mommy make muffins.” Jame Jr tells him.

“What kind?” He asks.

“Chocolate chip blueberry!” Becca answers.

“Ooh, sounds good!” Bucky says.

Bucky got out of bed and carefully picked up his son and daughter in each arm, making them giggle uncontrollably. You put a tray of muffins on the kitchen counter and looked up when you heard the sound of giggles entering the kitchen. You smiled when you seen your husband and kids.

“I told them not to wake you up.” You say, kissing Bucky good morning.

“It’s fine, doll.” Bucky carefully placed them on the floor and they ran to the living room to watch cartoons. “I love it when they wake me up.” He says.

Bucky put his hands on your sides, rubbing them up and down. His hands slowly made their way to your 2 month pregnant belly, caressing it. He looked down at your belly with the look of love and adoration on his face.

“I can’t believe we have third one on the way.” He muses.

“You better believe it cause she’ll be here before we know it.” You mused with him, putting your hands on top of his.

“She?” Bucky playfully raised an eyebrow at you. “I think we’re going to have another boy.” He says.

“You just like to be right, don’t you, Sarge?” You giggled.

“I was right with James Jr.” He says with a proud smile.

You playfully rolled your eyes at your husband and kissed him. You wrapped your arms around his waist, wanting him to be close to you.

“Do you have to go to the compound today?” You asked.

“Nope.” Bucky answers. “Steve gave me the next couple of days off to spend with you and the kids.” He tells you.

“That’s good, because I missed you.” You put your chin on his chest, looking up at him. “I think the kids missed you more than me though.” You say.

“Our kids always find a way to out rank us.” He says.

You giggled softly. Bucky kissed your forehead, making you smile. As you two were pulling away from each other, the kids came running in the kitchen.

“Are the muffins done?” Becca asks, looking up at you.

“Yes.” You confirmed with a smile.

The kids cheered happily and excitedly, making you and Bucky smile down at the two little creations you two brought into this world. Bucky got the kids seated at the table in the dining room while you took breakfast in there. During breakfast, the kids told you and Bucky what they want to do today. Bucky listened to everything his son and daughter said with the look of adoration on his face.

After breakfast, you cleaned up while Bucky cleaned the kids up. They’re messy eaters. He got them dressed and then got himself dressed. He walked back in the kitchen at the same time you were finishing up with washing the dishes. He walked up behind you, wrapping his arms around you from behind and put his hands on your belly. You smiled and leaned into his touch.

“Do you know how much I love you?” Bucky asks softly, leaning his chin on your shoulder.

“You tell me about a billion times a day.” You say with a smile.

Bucky carefully spun you around so you were facing him. His hands were now on your waist, pulling you against his body.

“Let me tell you a billion times more.” He murmurs softly.

You wrapped your arms around his neck when he kissed you softly and sweetly. You two couldn’t help but smile against each other’s lips.

“Hey!” You and Bucky heard a small high pitched voice, already knowing it’s Becca.

You and Bucky laughed lightly and pulled away to see what she needed.

“That’s how you get cooties!” Becca exclaims.

“Me and daddy can’t get cooties, because we’re married.” You explained to your daughter. “Plus, daddy is a Super Soldier so it won’t affect him at all.” You tell her.

Becca stared at you like you just said the most interesting thing in the world. You walked past her and playfully ruffled her hair and went to the bedroom to get dressed. Becca didn’t miss the way Bucky was looking at you as you were walking away. He had the look of love and adoration on his face. She was curious to know why he was looking at you like that.

“Daddy?” Becca taps on Bucky’s leg to get his attention.

“Yes, sweetheart?” Bucky asks, picking her up and walked to the living room to sit down on the couch.

“Why do you look at mommy like that?” She asks curiously.

“Mommy is my wife and the love of my life. I love her with all of my heart. She makes me so happy.” He explains. “You and your brother make happy and I love you two as well.” He says, kissing her forehead.

“What about the baby in mommy’s belly?” She asks.

“I love the baby in mommy’s belly too. He or she is going to make me happy too.” He says happily.

You walked in the living room with James Jr in your arms and sat down on the couch next to Bucky and Becca.

“Daddy love you!” Becca blurts out.

“Oh, he does, does he?” You say.

“He said you’re his wife.” She says.

“He’s right. I am his wife.” You smile widely. “And I wouldn’t change it for the world.” You say, kissing Bucky’s cheek.

Becca and James Jr carefully slid off of yours and Bucky’s lap to play with their toys on the floor while cartoons played on the TV. You slid closer to Bucky, snuggling yourself against his side. Bucky wrapped his arm around you, gently rubbing your belly with his hand.

“I love mornings with all of you.” Bucky says softly and happily.

“Me too.” You say softly, leaning up to kiss him sweetly.

James Jr threw a stuffed animal at you and Bucky when he seen you two kissing.

“Yucky!” James Jr shouts loudly, making you and Bucky laugh.

🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵

-Bucky’s Doll

[viiioca]

i love heavensward: a series of bulletin points

your last ally in all the city-states is an elf who would unironically lick the sweat from your armpits in front of the entire congregation. he begs his dad to let you couch surf. one of his brothers admits to your face that he wished you would die

two members of the swiss guard arrest your children so you punch them in the neck until the judge says you're free to go. the pope personally calls you to apologize for the trouble

ilberd tries and fails to hotbox you to death

a hot elf wife takes you on vacation to a nest full of cool bugs

anytime there's a serious moment estinien challenges the tone of the scene by pulling a giant novelty eyeball out of his pants which is played 100% straight every single time. not a single soul questions this or reacts in surprise

the prettiest elf in the world gets arrested trying to yell at his dad

Occupy The Vatican Right Fucking Now!!!!

the pope stances on the deck of an airship and flies away into the sunset after his eunuch traumatizes you

the emperor of garlemald shows up to call you a dipshit, leaves, and then you don't see him personally again for 1.5 expansion packs

we summon a naked catgirl and the first thing tataru does is give her a pair of louboutins and put a bow on her little kitty tail. she is the most deadly serious person in the entire organization

you take a quick detour to visit the angriest woman who's ever lived who calls you and everyone you're with a pointless dumbfuck moron shit idiot (affectionate). then she gives you a gun she invented that sharlayan banned for being too cool

theres a flying allagan war crimes factory full of broken robots who think you're stupid. an entire legion of garleans are abandoned here to form a feral colony with the escaped lab animals. the robots make fun of them

the dad of all the dragons on the whole planet calls you his favorite in front of his real child who he hasnt talked to in 4000 years

an evil wizard tries to get revenge on you for killing his cousin but the pope loads his soul into a bong and takes the fattest rip. the next time you meet him you mostly learn about how much his wife bullied him

estinien picks up a second eyeball. surprise development!: there is an angry dragon ghost living in the eyeballs

thancred gets punched in the face

you watch two dragon brothers fight because one called the other's dead wife a foul and trifling hoe

you save your friend through the power of friendship, and littering. as soon as he feels better he jumps out of a window and doesnt talk to you for two years

the guy from the box art wont stop trying to kill you because he is actually john videogames: astral traveler

after 15 hours of wondering what happened to all the scions and learning just the ones you've been able to FIND were flung into the afterlife, you discover lyse and papalymo are fine. they werent even hurt. they have been playing desert dress up with the ala mhigans while youve been freezing your pussy off trying to end a multigenerational religious war with the dragons and depose a corrupt head of state. they tried to send one letter and then gave up

the consequences of littering catch up with you. in eorzea, the fine is $Giant Dragon

[bloatedandalone04]

Don’t Ever Leave My Side

➪the one where you finally let jake take you out on a date after countless rejections, but it turns out that the guy you convinced yourself he was, isn’t who he is at all.

Warnings: smut, fluff, pda, unprotected sex, swearing, pining, oral (f receiving), jake being whipped bc i missed writing for him

Word Count: 4.7k

Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine ♡

You weren’t sure why you had reapplied your makeup for the third time now after deciding that it didn’t look good enough. And you opted to leave your hair how it normally looked right after a shower and to not touch it, but here you were, hastily curling it as you checked the time on your phone for the fourth time since plugging in the curling iron. 

None of it mattered at all. It was just a stupid date. One stupid date you promised Jake Seresin you’d go on with him, that was it. 

The guy had been asking you out for months now, and you’ve shut him down every time since you knew how he was with the women who frequented the Hard Deck. He was a player, in the sky and on the ground, and you wanted nothing to do with it, which is why you’ve rejected him more times than you can count on both hands. 

Yet he was persistent, the fucker. To get him to stop, you agreed to go out with him the last time you bumped into him, and that date was scheduled for tonight. In exactly four minutes, but you were planning on being late just to fuck with him, because there was no way you were going on a second date with him. No way. No.

You just finished your hair when your phone went off with a text, and you glanced down at it as you unplugged the curler and set it down on the counter. 

Jake Seresin: I’m here, gorgeous. Hope you’re prepared for tonight ;)

For some reason, reading that gave you butterflies in your stomach, and you quickly typed out a response before setting your phone down and pulling on the simple black dress you picked out for tonight.

Nice. I’m not ready yet.

The dress was tight around your torso area but got looser around your thighs, and the straps were so thin, you had to wear a strapless bra so it didn’t look dumb. The hem around your chest was lace and provided a small amount of cleavage that left nothing to the imagination, so yeah. It was very simple. 

After checking yourself a respectable three times, you slide on your ankle boots and grab your purse. 

You wondered if Jake was annoyed that you took so long to get ready since he read your text but never responded to it, but you were wrong as you opened your front door and saw him leaning against the passenger side of his truck with a stupid fucking smile on his face. “Hey, sweetheart,” he greeted as you huffed and turned to lock the door. When you made your way over to him, Jake moved out of the way and opened the passenger door for you. “You look stunning.”

“Thanks,” you drag the word out a bit as you hop up onto the seat and place your hands on your lap as he shuts the door behind you. A few seconds later, he was sitting beside you in the driver’s seat as he put the truck into drive. “Where are we going?”

Jake grinned over at you as he flicked the radio on, and some country song began playing quietly through the speakers as he answered, “It’s a surprise. Shocking, I know, but if I’m only getting one shot at this, I’m gonna do it right,”

“Great, I love surprises,” you mumbled, looking out the window before quickly looking back at him once you further processed his words. “And there’s no if, Jake. You are only getting one shot at this.”

You weren’t sure whose head you were trying to get that through at this point. 

But Jake wasn’t fazed as his grin grew. “Better make sure I don’t fuck this up then,” he said, glancing over at you. “I promise, I’ll make it count.”

He sounded so excited and he looked hot in his jeans and button up and jacket. You hated it, because you’ve seen him with other girls before, and he never put on this nice of an outfit, and he never gave them the amount of attention he’s already given you since you left your house. 

And you were even more annoyed when he pulled into a parking spot right outside your favorite Italian restaurant ten minutes later. You looked at the bright sign that said the name of the restaurant with squinted eyes before looking over at Jake. “Why are we here?”

Jake looked a bit panicked for a second as he paused mid-way through taking off his seatbelt. “Is this not…I thought this was your favorite place to eat at,” he sounded nervous now and you loosened up a bit as you took off your own seatbelt. 

“It is,” you confirmed, “But how did you know that?”

Jake looked more relaxed as he finally let his seatbelt go and opened the door. “Bird Boy told me,” he said and you groaned. 

“Damnit, Rooster,” you muttered as you grabbed your bag and reached for the handle, but Jake was already there and opening the door for you. “I’m going to yell at him the next time I see him.” You state as you get out of the truck.

Bradley was your best friend, and the guy who had witnessed a lot of your rejections to Jake firsthand. You weren’t all that surprised that he felt a little bad for the blond and helped him out with this, because your best friend was a decent guy and one of your favorite people. But you were still going to yell at him.

“Really?” Jake laughed as he placed his hand on the small of your back and led you towards the doors of the restaurant. “Because I can’t stop thanking the guy, and that’s kind of a big deal for me.”  

You huffed out a laugh in return as he guided you inside, and a few minutes later you were sitting at a booth with him with your drinks placed in front of you. Your menu was flat on the table while he held his up, his eyes flickering over the options as you subtly watched him. 

“What’s good here?” He asked, “This is my first time in this place.”

You picked up your margarita with a shrug, “Everything, from what I can tell,”

Jake glanced at you over the top of his menu, his brows furrowing as he realized that you didn’t even look at your own. “What are you doing? What’s wrong?”

You set your drink down and leaned back against the booth. “I know what I’m getting. I get it every time,”

Jake’s lips turned upwards at that as he set the menu down and slid his water closer to him on the table. “Oh, you’re one of those people, huh?” He asked with a smirk as he sipped a bit of the bland drink. “You don’t like, I don’t know, trying something different?”

“If it’s not broken, don’t fix it?” You offer with a raised brow as you watch him set the water back down. “You’re seriously not drinking tonight?”

He shook his head as he closed the menu and pushed both yours and his to the edge of the table. “No. I want to be sober the whole time so I can remember this night with vivid detail. I think you deserve that,”

Your face heated up as you cleared your throat, his words doing a number on you as you sat up a bit. “What are you getting?” You quickly change the subject as you felt the sudden urge to kiss the guy you’ve been avoiding for months now. 

“What are you getting?” He asked back and you narrowed your eyes as you told him your usual order. “Perfect, I’ll get that too. Maybe I’ll like it enough to order it every time I come here.”

And that was how you found yourself eating identical meals not long after, and a blush seemed to be stuck on your face as you answered every single question he had for you. Your favorite color, your favorite song, the teacher you hated most in high school, your worst dating experience, all of it.

For some reason, this wasn’t bad. This wasn’t bad at all. Talking with Jake felt easy, like you could do it all the time and never complain about it. Why was this shaping out to be kind of the perfect first date? Why was he kind of being the perfect gentleman? 

He seemed so interested in you, like how he was during the build ups to him eventually asking you out. You were beginning to feel bad about constantly saying no, because you were actually having a really good time with him. 

“Well?” You started as Jake asked for the bill. “How was it? Will you be returning just to order that every time?” You gestured to the empty plates in front of you and Jake shrugged as he took out his wallet. 

“It wasn’t bad. Your taste in food is pretty decent,” he hummed as the waitress, who had been checking Jake out the whole night and who hadn’t been looked at by him for more than a total of six seconds, placed the bill on the table. You reached for your own wallet but he stopped you and handed you his keys instead. “Don’t worry about it, sweetheart. Wait in the truck for me, okay?”

You take the keys from him and give the waitress a soft smirk as you stand up, noticing the scowl that had formed on her face as she heard the affectionate nickname Jake gave you. 

Less than a minute later, Jake was beside you in his truck again as he backed out of the parking space with one hand. You were feeling a bit shy now as you looked over at him and took in just how handsome he actually is. “Thanks for tonight,” you say quietly as he pulls out onto the road. “It was kinda…it was fun.”

“You think it’s over?” He laughed softly as he glanced over at you in the dark truck. “I only get you to myself for one night, you really think I’m just taking you out to dinner?”

Your face heated up for the hundredth time tonight as you quickly broke eye contact. “Oh…where else are we going?”

Jake looked back at the road as he drove with one hand, and you were sure he wasn’t aware of just how hot that was. “To the place we first met,” he answered simply and your eyes widened a bit as you laughed.

“The Hard Deck?”

“Yeah,” he grinned over at you. “I have to show at least one person from work that I actually managed to get you to go out with me. And Bird Boy doesn’t count.”

You weren’t entirely sure why, but that had you smiling like a love struck teenager the whole ride, and when you arrived at the Hard Deck, you allowed Jake to lead you inside with his hand placed firmly on your hip. 

A few of his coworkers smirked at him, a few looked beyond shocked, and then there was Bradley, who avoided eye contact with you as soon as you entered the bar. Okay, so maybe you wouldn’t be yelling at him later. 

The Hard Deck was rowdy as usual, but Jake wasn’t paying attention to anyone but you, and you realized just how much you liked being the center of his attention. 

And he was completely sober as he held you in his arms as the two of you swayed to an old song playing on the jukebox. He looked content and so handsome, you had to look away as you mumbled, “Okay, so maybe this isn’t so bad after all,” and pressed the side of your face against his chest. “You kind of planned the most perfect first date, Jake. I’m actually so surprised.”

Your head vibrated a bit when he laughed and tightened his hold on you as if he was scared to let you go. “Well, when you’re determined to make someone fall head over heels for you, you’ve got to put in a bit of effort,” he said and your whole body heated up in a blush. “So, uh…does this mean there’s gonna be a second date?”

You pull back slightly and look up at him. “That depends on you,” came your quiet response as you slid your hands up his back. “You’ve been the most perfect gentleman tonight, and you’ve been so sweet, but will it be like this every time? Or was this just a show for tonight?”

Jake lifted a hand and brushed some of your hair behind your ear, his thumb stroking your cheek after. “You deserve to be treated right, and I want to be the person to do that. I want to be the perfect guy for you, Y/n. You’re special to me,” he said and sounded so genuine, you had no choice but to believe his words. “Give me a chance to show you that I’m not the stuck up ladies man you think I am. I’m falling for you…and I don’t want to mess this up.”

There it was. Jake had just put his heart on his sleeve for you, and now it was completely up to you what happened next. 

You press your lips together and look down at the wooden floor of the bar. “I was wrong about you. You’re not the player I thought you were. And honestly, I don’t care about how many women you’ve been with. The guy you’ve been tonight…it’s a different side of you, Jake. Or maybe it’s who you’ve been this whole time and I’ve just been too stubborn to see it,” you murmur and place your hands flat on his chest as you look back up at him. “The guy you are right now, I can see myself with him. With you. Tonight has been…perfect, in every single way. You’ve been perfect, Jake.”

There was your own confession that, early this morning, you would’ve never said out loud, but things had clearly changed. 

Jake smiled and leaned down to brush his lips against yours in a teasing kiss. “You haven’t seen anything yet, sweetheart,” he whispered against your mouth before pulling back to look into your eyes. “So why don’t we skip right to the part where you agree to a second date?” He asked in a deep voice as he wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you closer to him.

You laughed, looking up at him with unguarded eyes. “I think it’s safe to say you got that second date. And the third. And the fourth,” you grinned, curling your fingers around his jacket as your gaze intensified a bit. “Tell me something, does the perfect gentleman kiss on the first date? Because that teaser you just gave me wasn’t nearly enough to satisfy what I’m feeling right now.”

Jake’s smile grows before he leans down and presses his lips to yours in a searing kiss. It starts off somewhat soft, and he lets you take the lead as you kiss him a bit deeper, and then his tongue was pushing past your lips and brushing against yours. 

It was clear from the kiss that he had been holding back his desire for you for months, and you suddenly didn’t regret pushing him away so much, because it allowed you to feel every inch of his want for you with every brush of his mouth against yours. 

After a few more seconds, he breaks the kiss. “There you go,” he murmured, his thumb brushing against your puffy bottom lip. “But that’s just one of many. I plan on kissing the fuck out of you on every single one of those future dates.”

A content hum leaves your lips, a feeling of excitement for the future settling in your bones as you lean up and kiss him again. Soon enough you’d become addicted. You were sure of it. 

Your fingers slide into his hair as the music continues to play and the patrons of the bar chat amongst themselves, not paying either of you any attention as you lose yourselves in each other. 

Jake’s hands grip your waist tighter, pulling your chest against his. “You’re mine now, Y/n,” he mumbled when he finally broke the kiss after a few minutes, and you held back a squeal at just how good that sounded. “I’ll make you happy, I swear it.” 

You bite down on your lip and trace the sides of his face with your fingers. “Any chance the perfect gentleman takes me to bed on the first date?” You playfully asked, but you were also very serious, even if you thought that you should probably wait to have sex. Maybe until the second date. That seemed long enough. 

“Patience, baby,” he rasped, tugging at your bottom lip with his thumb. “A perfect gentleman knows how to build anticipation.”

He tucks a few strands of hair behind your ear as you hum quietly, threading your fingers through the hair on the back of his neck as you try not to squeal again at the cute pet name. 

“Besides, I have a feeling you’re going to be worth the wait. I know it’ll be…fucking amazing between us,” he added, brushing another soft kiss to your lips. “Don’t worry, but by the end of our second date, I’ll give it to you so good, you’ll still be sore when we go on our third date.” 

You grin excitedly and nod. “It’s okay,” you whisper, “I can wait. I know that now, Jake. You’re worth the wait.”

Jake smiled down at you before kissing you one last time then taking your hand and leading you towards the bar. 

-

A couple weeks, and several dates later, you and Jake are officially together and crazy in love with each other. 

The realization that you had only pushed him away for so long because you were so into him was a tough pill to swallow, but when you finally got it down, you threw yourself headfirst into this relationship with him, and neither of you planned to look back. 

It became official shortly after the first date, where he drove you home, kissed you sweetly, then left you wanting more. By the end of the second date, Jake stayed true to his promise and fucked you so good into his mattress, you were addicted by the time the sun came up. 

You’d both been insatiable since then, which wasn’t all that surprising. The chemistry between you two had been undeniable from the start, so of course the sex was fucking amazing. 

Now, having just gotten back to his place after your eighth date, you and he can’t keep your hands off one another as you stumble through his front door, your mouths connected and your hands all over each other. 

You pull off his jacket and let it fall to the floor of the entryway while he helps you slide off your heels, your mouths meshing noisily together. He kicks the door shut before reaching down to grab the backs of your thighs, never breaking the kiss as he lifts you into his arms. He begins to walk towards his bedroom, his hands gripping your thighs tightly as he pulls away. “I’m gonna take you slow and deep tonight,” he mumbled against your lips. “Wanna drag it out this time.”

He was referring to the previous date, when he fucked you hard and fast into his couch while you screamed your throat raw, and the reminder of it just turned you on even more. 

Jake lays you down on his bed before standing back up and working on ridding himself of his belt. You lean back on the bed, pulling your dress off to leave you in a matching black lace lingerie set that paired sinfully well with your thigh high stockings. 

Leaning back on your elbows, you spread your thighs and beckon him to you with a curl of your finger. “Come here,”

Jake’s eyes darken as he takes in the sight of you. He’s seen you naked countless of times by now, but seeing you in something so effortlessly hot was something else, especially since he knew exactly what the black fabric was hiding from him. 

His hands reach down to pull off his belt and he shrugs off his clothes, leaving on his boxer briefs for now and showing off just how hard you made him through the thin material. 

Crawling onto the bed, he positions himself between your thighs, his lips peppering kisses along your stomach as his fingers tease the edge of your panties. “God, you’re fucking stunning,” he mumbled, running his fingers over the flimsy fabric. “Tell me, baby, were these expensive?”

You hum, looking down at him as you shrug. “A little, but not too bad,”

Jake smirked, mumbling a quick, “Good,” before he ripped the delicate fabric and tossed it aside, revealing your slick folds to his needy eyes. 

“Jake!” You gasped, your eyes widening as his big hands gripped the backs of your thighs and spread your legs a bit wider. 

“I’ll buy you more, one in every color,” he promised, grinning up at you before looking back down at your heat. He runs his fingers through your wetness, a satisfied hum leaving his mouth, “You’re so wet for me, baby. All for me.”

Then he was burying his face between your thighs, his tongue poking out to lick a stripe up your entrance before sucking on your clit. “Oh, fuck,” you whined and he groaned, sending a jolt of pleasure up your body. You shuddered, your muscles tightening as you reached down to tangle your fingers in his hair. “Just like that, Jake. Feels so good.”

Jake’s tongue pressed more firmly against your clit while his fingers gathered more of your wetness before sinking knuckle-deep inside you. He fucks them in and out of you as his teeth gently nip at your sensitive bundle of nerves, and you fell back onto his pillow as he devoured you. 

The sight of you looking already so fucked out with your hair draped across his pillow had him refraining from bucking his hips against the bed, because it was something he had been dreaming about seeing for months. He was still kind of shocked that he could now see it whenever he wanted.

“Fuck,” you gasped, arching your back as he guided your legs to rest over his shoulders. Your fingers were pulling on his hair pretty hard, and he fucking loved it. He loved every single second he spent with you, and he couldn’t get enough of your sweet taste, your soft moans and the fact that you had finally, finally given him the chance he’s been craving for so long. 

You were finally his, and he was never letting you go. 

“Cum for me,” he mumbled, flicking your clit with his tongue as he curled his fingers deep inside you. “Cum all over my face, baby. Let me taste it.”

If there was one thing Jake knew how to do, it was to spew the most filthy fucking things to you. And he knew you loved it. He found that out pretty quickly the first time he took you to bed, and he was more than willing to delve into your desire for dirty talk. 

Like he suspected, your mouth parted in a loud moan as you tugged harshly on his hair, and a second later you were coming on his tongue and fingers. “Jake…holy fuck, baby,” you moaned as you writhed against his face. “Fuck…feels so fucking good.”

The taste of you on his tongue makes him groan, and he continues to ravish your pussy until you’re shaking and whimpering incoherently. Once you settled a bit, Jake lifted his head, his lips and chin soaked with your release as he grins up at you and begins to place kisses along your stomach while he pushes his boxers down. 

He hovers over you, his hands squeezing your breasts through your bra as he teases your quivering heat with the tip of his cock. “I need you, baby,” he mumbled, reaching down to grip his base as he coats himself in your arousal before slowly pushing inside you. “Fuck, you’re tight.” He groaned, dropping his head to your shoulder as he started to slowly rock into you.

His hand moves from your chest to grip your hips as he picks up the speed a bit, his body fitting perfectly against yours with each deep thrust,

“There you go,” he rasped, kissing along your neck. “Take it all, baby, every inch.”

You moan loudly as you arch your back, and you guide his hands around you to the clasp of your bra. “Fuck, Jake, you feel so good,” you whimpered, wrapping your legs tightly around his waist. 

Jake hums, expertly unclasping your bra before guiding the straps down your arms, all while keeping the pace of his thrusts. His eyes immediately lock onto your breasts, now bare to his dark eyes as they bounce with every movement. “You’re a fucking dream,” he mumbled, leaning down to wrap his lips around one of your nipples as he rocks his hips against yours. “You make me lose control, every single time.” He grunted through ragged breaths, his cock brushing against every hidden spot deep inside you. 

“Jake,” you moan desperately, guiding his mouth to yours in a messy kiss. “I love you.”

He groans, kissing you again as he feels himself close to coming already because you felt that fucking good. “I love you, too,” he rasped, his words muffled against your mouth. “So fucking much.”

You moaned, tugging on his hair as you lazily met his thrusts halfway. “I’m close,” you mumbled and he groaned in both pleasure and relief as he reached down to rub circles against your clit. 

“Me too,” he muttered, pinching and pulling at your bundle of nerves. “Cum with me, baby. Let go for me.”

A few seconds later, you were coming for a second time, but on his cock, and a couple thrusts later, he was too. He filled you up as his body shuddered, his lips pressing soft kisses to your neck as he fucked his seed deep inside you. 

Once you were both spent, he collapsed gently on top of you, keeping his cock lodged inside you as he cuddled you against his chest. “Stay with me tonight,” he begged quietly, turning you both on your sides and tucking your head under his chin. 

You smiled, nuzzling against his sweaty chest. “Where else would I be?”

Jake smiled back, pulling you impossibly closer. “What about tomorrow? Will you stay here tomorrow, too? We can have breakfast in bed,” he offered with a teasing grin on his lips. 

You hummed, pressing a kiss to his jaw. “Pancakes or waffles?” You ask instead of answering him, confirming that you will be staying at his place for the remainder of the weekend. 

“Pancakes,” he replied, pulling back to press a chaste kiss to your lips. “And bacon. A fuckton of it.”

Even though this wasn’t the first time you would be spending the night in his arms, Jake still felt beyond happy that, after months of pining over you, he was given the chance to experience life with you. He was also really fucking excited to spend tomorrow morning with you in his bed. 

“I’ve wanted this for so long,” he mumbled, holding you a bit tighter. “Wanted you.”

You go silent for a few seconds before pulling back to press a soft kiss to his lips. “I’m sorry I made you wait so long,” you whispered, tracing the curve of his bottom lip with your finger. “Truthfully, I didn’t think it could be this good. I was so wrong.”

Jake shakes his head, taking your hand in his and pressing a few kisses to your knuckles. “Don’t be sorry,” he said quietly. “It was worth it, all of it, if it meant we’d end up like this. Together.”

He leaned down to kiss you deeply, and you returned it instantly. “I love you,” you mumbled against his lips as you gently gripped his face. 

“I love you, too,” he said back and meant it with his whole heart as he rolled you onto your back again and settled on top of you.

Because without a doubt, his heart had been entirely yours since the second he saw you, and he knew that, he was just finally able to make you see it too.

[its-avalon-08]

im not giving up on you (dr3)

after the singapore gp, i was sobbing. danny, our sunshine danny might be leaving us and that broke my heart so entirely. here is to out honey badger, you made me love this sport, seeing your smile was the only light on some dark days. you made it, you lived your formula one dream and you will always be able to say that. for always making us laugh and find joy in the butterflies, we thank you daniel <3

✦ pairing - daniel ricciardo x female!reader

✦ genre - angst, losing his seat, tears, fluffy ending

The Singapore night was thick with humidity, the scent of burning rubber still clinging to the air long after the race had ended. Daniel Ricciardo walked through the now-empty paddock, the silence overwhelming. The once-vibrant energy that pulsed through the grounds was now replaced with nothing but the dull hum of the lights, casting long shadows that made the place feel eerily lonely.

Daniel had always been good at putting on a strong face. Smiling, joking, pretending everything was fine. He had perfected it over the years. But tonight, the facade had cracks — deep, painful cracks that threatened to break him entirely.

After the Singapore GP, the world knew. The news had broken: Daniel was losing his seat at V-CARB. Another seat lost. Another chapter closing. And it felt as though he had lost everything again. He couldn’t bear to face his team, his friends. Not even Max. So he stayed in the paddock long after everyone had left, sitting alone on a stack of tires, his head in his hands.

He didn’t hear the footsteps at first.

"Daniel?"

The voice was soft, familiar, and full of concern. He looked up, blinking through the blur of tears that stung his eyes. There she was — Y/N Verstappen. Max’s little sister.

She had always been around, always there, a comforting presence from the days when he and Max were teammates. She had been his friend, but it was so much more than that. They had danced around their feelings for years, never daring to speak the truth, both afraid of what it might mean.

Daniel quickly wiped his eyes, trying to pull himself together. "Hey," he said, his voice strained, cracking under the weight of his emotions. "What are you doing here?"

"I should ask you the same," Y/N replied softly, stepping closer. "It’s late."

"I couldn’t leave," he admitted, his eyes staring at the ground, unable to meet hers. "It’s just… a lot."

Y/N stood in front of him, her eyes searching his face. She could see right through him. "You don’t have to pretend with me, Daniel."

"I’m not pretending," he lied, letting out a shaky laugh. "I’m fine. It’s just another bump in the road, right? I’ll bounce back. I always do."

But even as he spoke, his voice trembled, and Y/N could hear the pain beneath his words. She sat down beside him on the tires, close enough to feel the heat radiating off him in the humid night air, but still hesitant to touch him.

"It’s okay to not be fine," she whispered, her voice barely above a breath.

Daniel’s jaw tightened as he looked away, blinking rapidly. He didn’t want her to see him like this. He had always been the strong one, the happy-go-lucky guy who could handle anything. But tonight, the weight of everything was crushing him.

"I feel like I’m losing everything," he finally admitted, his voice breaking. "Like no matter what I do, no matter how hard I fight, it’s never enough. I’m never enough."

Y/N’s heart ached at the sight of him like this — so vulnerable, so raw. She reached out hesitantly, her hand gently resting on his arm. "Daniel… you’re more than enough. You’ve always been more than enough."

He shook his head, biting down on his lip as tears welled up in his eyes again. "I don’t know how to keep going. Everyone keeps telling me to just keep my head up, keep smiling. But I’m tired, Y/N. I’m so tired."

Her hand tightened around his arm, the warmth of her touch grounding him in that moment. "You don’t have to do this alone."

Daniel’s shoulders shook as he exhaled a deep, shaky breath. He didn’t have the strength to pretend anymore. The tears he had been holding back for so long finally fell, spilling down his cheeks as he covered his face with his hands, his body trembling with silent sobs.

Y/N felt her own tears start to fall as she watched him break down, the sight of him so utterly heartbroken making her chest ache. She couldn’t hold back any longer. Without thinking, she pulled him into her arms, wrapping him in a tight embrace.

"I’ve got you," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. "I’ve always got you."

Daniel buried his face in her shoulder, his arms wrapping around her waist as he clung to her, the dam of emotions finally breaking. He sobbed into her neck, all the pain, frustration, and helplessness pouring out of him. And Y/N held him, stroking his hair, whispering soothing words in his ear.

"I don’t know what to do, Y/N," Daniel choked out between sobs. "I feel like I’ve failed. Again."

"You haven’t failed," she insisted, pulling back just enough to look at him, her hands cupping his tear-streaked face. "You’ve given everything, Daniel. You’ve fought so hard. You’re one of the best drivers out there, and no seat can take that away from you. Not now, not ever."

Daniel let out a long sigh, pulling away slightly from Y/N’s embrace, wiping at his eyes with the back of his hand. His voice was quieter now, but it carried a weight that hadn’t been there before, like he was finally allowing himself to speak the truth that had been buried deep inside for years.

"You know," he began, staring out at the empty paddock, "when I left Red Bull, I thought I was making the best decision of my life. I really did. I thought… this was it, you know? My time. I didn’t want to be second to Max — your brother’s an incredible driver, you know that. But I couldn’t sit there anymore, watching everyone around me believe I’d always be the second-best. I wanted to be number one. I wanted my own team to back me, to believe in me. And at the time, Renault seemed like that opportunity, like I could prove I could lead a team, that I could fight for championships."

He laughed bitterly, running a hand through his hair. "God, I was so naïve. I thought leaving Red Bull would be the start of my rise, not the beginning of my fall. Renault wasn’t easy, but I stuck it out. Then McLaren came calling, and I thought that was my shot. It was McLaren, you know? One of the biggest names in Formula 1. I thought I was stepping into greatness."

He paused, his voice trembling. "And then everything fell apart. From the start, it felt wrong. Like I didn’t belong there. I tried so damn hard, Y/N. I worked my ass off, but nothing clicked. No matter what I did, how much time I put in, it never worked. Every race, every session, I felt like I was slipping further away from the driver I used to be. And it wasn’t just the car — it was everything. The pressure, the doubts, the whispers that I’d lost it, that I wasn’t the driver I once was."

He swallowed hard, the pain of those years written across his face. "They treated me like I was broken. Like I was damaged goods. And I started to believe it. Every time I got into that car, I felt like a shadow of myself. They replaced me without a second thought, like I was disposable. And I tried to be strong, you know? I tried to tell myself that it didn’t matter, that I’d bounce back. But deep down, it hurt. It hurt more than anything."

Y/N squeezed his hand, her heart aching for him, but she stayed silent, letting him speak.

"And then this year," he continued, his voice cracking. "I thought coming back to V-CARB was going to be my redemption. That this was finally going to be the moment where I’d prove to everyone that I still had it. But now… now I’m losing my seat again. And it just feels like the world’s telling me I’m not wanted. That no one believes in me anymore. Every time I think I’m getting back on my feet, I just get knocked down again. It’s like no matter what I do, no one sees me. Not as I am, not for what I can be. They just see what they think I’ve become — a has-been."

Daniel’s voice grew quieter, almost a whisper. "I feel… I feel like I’m unwanted, Y/N. Like I don’t belong anywhere anymore. I used to love this sport so much. It was everything to me. But now it feels like it’s slipping away, like I’m being pushed out, and I don’t know what to do."

He ran his hands over his face, the weight of his journey pressing down on him like a heavy burden. "I’ve given everything to this sport. Years of my life, my heart, my soul. I sacrificed everything to chase this dream. And now… I’m just scared, Y/N. I’m scared that no matter how hard I try, I’ll never be enough. I’ll never get back to where I once was."

There was a long pause, the silence between them thick with emotion. Daniel’s chest rose and fell as he tried to steady his breathing, but his eyes were red, his cheeks stained with tears.

"I just… I don’t know how to stop feeling like I’m failing. Like I’ve lost everything that mattered. And it’s killing me, Y/N. I don’t know if I can keep pretending like I’m okay, when inside, I’m falling apart."

Y/N couldn’t take it anymore. She wrapped her arms around him tightly, pulling him close. "Daniel, you’ve never been a failure. Not to me. You’re the strongest person I know, and no matter what happens, no seat, no team, no damn race can take away who you are. You’ve always been enough."

And this time, Daniel didn’t pull away. He sank into her embrace, the tears falling once again, but this time, it felt different. He wasn’t alone.

His eyes searched hers, filled with so much pain, so much doubt. "What if this is it? What if this is the end for me?"

"It’s not the end," Y/N said firmly, her thumbs brushing away the tears on his cheeks. "And even if it were, you’d still be Daniel Ricciardo — the man I…"

She stopped, the words hanging in the air between them, unspoken for years.

Daniel’s breath hitched as he realized what she was about to say. "Y/N…"

She looked away, her own tears threatening to spill over. "I’ve loved you for so long, Daniel. And I hate seeing you like this. I hate that you’re hurting, and I hate that I never told you sooner because maybe… maybe you wouldn’t have to go through this alone."

Daniel was silent for a moment, his mind racing as her words sank in. He had always known. Deep down, he had always known. But hearing it, finally hearing it… it shattered something inside him.

"I’ve loved you too," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "I’ve loved you since… since forever, Y/N. But I was scared. I didn’t want to lose you. I couldn’t lose you."

She looked at him, her heart breaking at the sight of the tears in his eyes. "You could never lose me."

Daniel leaned his forehead against hers, his breath shaky as they both cried, the weight of their unspoken feelings finally crashing down on them.

"I need you," he whispered, his voice barely audible.

"I’m here," she replied, her arms wrapping around him again, holding him as if she would never let go.

They stayed like that for a long time, clinging to each other, their tears mingling in the humid night air. And when the exhaustion finally overtook them, Daniel shifted, pulling Y/N down with him onto the bench beside the tires. He wrapped his arms around her, holding her close, their bodies fitting together perfectly as they lay there in the silence of the paddock.

Y/N rested her head on his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat as they both closed their eyes, the weight of the world fading away for a little while.

And in the stillness of the night, they finally found peace in each other’s arms, their unspoken love wrapped around them like a blanket, protecting them from the world outside.

the next day

The next morning, the sun filtered through the windows of the small café tucked away from the hustle and bustle of the paddock. Daniel felt lighter today. His heart still ached, the reality of his situation hadn't magically disappeared overnight, but there was something different. A quiet peace had settled inside him. Maybe it was because, for the first time in a long time, he wasn’t carrying his burdens alone.

He glanced at Y/N across the table. She was scrolling through her phone, a soft smile tugging at her lips as she absentmindedly tapped her fingers against the table. His chest warmed at the sight of her. Y/N was always there, had always been there, but now it was different. Last night changed everything.

They hadn’t said much that morning, but they didn’t need to. She had been a constant presence at his side, making him feel like, no matter what, he’d be okay.

“So,” Y/N said, breaking the comfortable silence. “You ready for this?”

Daniel chuckled, taking a sip of his coffee. "Depends. Is Max going to kill me or just be incredibly smug?"

Y/N laughed, and Daniel could swear it was his favorite sound in the world. “He’ll be a bit of both, probably. But definitely more smug. He’s been calling this for years.”

As if on cue, Max Verstappen walked into the café, spotting them immediately. He made a beeline for their table, his signature serious expression betraying just the faintest hint of amusement. He slid into the seat across from them, a wry smile on his face.

"Morning," Max said, folding his arms across his chest, eyes flicking between the two of them. "Well, well, well. Look what we have here."

Daniel groaned playfully, rubbing the back of his neck. "Go on, get it out of your system."

Max leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms, and grinned. "I knew it. I’ve known it since, what, the first year we were teammates? You two were practically inseparable. The way you used to look at each other…" He shook his head, pretending to be exasperated. "I can’t believe it took you this long."

Y/N blushed, rolling her eyes. "Alright, Max, don’t be so dramatic. It wasn’t that obvious."

Max raised an eyebrow. "Y/N, you’re my sister. You think I didn’t notice how every time Daniel was around, you’d act different? Or how he was always finding some excuse to come over when you were visiting?"

Daniel groaned again, leaning back in his chair. "Okay, okay, you were right. Is that what you want to hear?"

Max smirked, taking a long sip of his coffee. "Yes. Yes, it is." He paused, then his expression softened, his teasing giving way to something more sincere. "But seriously, I’m happy for you both. You’re good together."

Daniel felt his heart swell at that. Max wasn’t the type to dish out compliments easily, especially when it came to his sister. He knew how protective Max was of Y/N, and hearing those words meant more than he could express.

"Thanks, mate," Daniel said quietly, meeting Max’s gaze. "It means a lot."

Max gave a small nod before turning his attention to Y/N. "Just promise me one thing — if he does anything stupid, you’ll let me know so I can give him hell for it."

Y/N laughed, giving her brother a playful shove. "I’m pretty sure I can handle him, Max."

Max grinned. "I have no doubt."

The three of them fell into an easy rhythm after that, the conversation light, the teasing back and forth, just like old times. For a brief moment, it felt like everything was as it should be — like the weight of the past few months had lifted, even if just for a little while.

As Max droned on about the next race and the changes to his car, Daniel glanced at Y/N, who was laughing at something Max had said. She caught his gaze, her smile softening, and in that moment, Daniel realized that no matter what happened next — no matter how uncertain the future felt — he wasn’t alone.

For the first time in a long time, he felt like he belonged. Not just in the sport or on the track, but with Y/N by his side. And whatever came next, they’d face it together.

"So," Max said suddenly, breaking through Daniel’s thoughts. "You’re both officially a thing now?"

Daniel smirked, his hand finding Y/N’s under the table. "Yeah, Max. We’re a thing."

Max raised his coffee cup in a mock toast. "Finally."

Y/N giggled, squeezing Daniel’s hand as they exchanged a knowing look.

Finally.

[paddockletters]

learning to drive | charles leclerc

paring: charles leclerc x reader summary: Charles decides it's time to teach you how to drive, leading to playful teasing, a heartwarming day filled with laughter, and ove author's note: none, just my request are open

Ever since I casually mentioned over dinner that I’d never learned to drive, Charles has been on a mission to poke fun at me whenever he gets the chance.

“Babe, how do you plan on surviving in Monaco without driving? The buses are not exactly your style,” he’d tease, a playful smirk tugging at his lips.

“I survive just fine with you as my chauffeur,” I always shot back, rolling my eyes but secretly loving the attention.

But today, he was determined to change that.

We were sitting at home, the sunlight streaming through the windows, when he suddenly jumped off the couch with a burst of energy.

“Alright, that’s it. We’re fixing this today,” Charles announced, grabbing his car keys.

“What? Fixing what?” I asked, confused but also slightly amused.

“Your inability to drive,” he said, flashing that cheeky grin I couldn’t resist.

“Oh no, Charles, I don’t think—”

Before I could protest, he grabbed my hand and dragged me out the door. Next thing I knew, I was sitting in the driver’s seat of his fancy sports car, feeling both excited and terrified. The leather seats smelled brand new, and everything about the car screamed speed, wealth, and Charles.

“I can’t believe I’m letting you teach me how to drive in this car,” I muttered, gripping the steering wheel.

“Relax, it’s just a car,” he said casually, sliding into the passenger seat with a smirk. “Besides, I trust you.”

His words should’ve been comforting, but when the car was worth more than an apartment in Monaco, that trust felt like a lot of pressure.

“Okay,” he started, hands gesturing to the pedals, “this is the accelerator, this is the brake. You’ve seen me do it a thousand times.”

“I know how cars work, Charles,” I retorted, giving him a playful glare. “I’m just... not sure I want to wreck this one.”

“Good, good, just checking,” he smirked. “Now, gently press on the gas…”

I did as he said, and the car jerked forward slightly. I could hear him stifling a laugh next to me.

“Smooth,” he teased. “Real smooth.”

I glared at him. “This is harder than it looks!”

“Babe, you’re driving at like, 2 km/h. We’re gonna be here all day at this rate,” he said, his tone playful.

“Do you want to walk home?” I shot back, trying to focus on keeping the car steady.

He chuckled. “Alright, alright. Let’s take it easy. You’re doing great. We’ll get you to 10 km/h in no time.”

I hesitantly pressed the accelerator, and the car jolted forward—too quickly for my liking. Charles stifled a laugh beside me, covering his mouth with his hand.

“Oh my God, don’t laugh!” I groaned, feeling heat rush to my cheeks.

“I’m not laughing, I swear!” he said, clearly lying but trying to hold it together. “You’re doing great.”

We crept forward at a snail’s pace, Charles offering pointers every few minutes. But it didn’t take long for him to start making jokes again.

“Maybe we should install a ‘Learner Driver’ sign on the back,” he teased, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

He grinned and leaned back in his seat, clearly enjoying this way too much.

“You know, for someone who’s never driven before, you’re doing surprisingly well. Maybe you’re a natural. Leclerc blood rubbing off on you.”

I couldn’t help the smile that crept onto my face. Maybe I was doing okay after all.

“Okay, let’s try turning,” he said, gesturing toward the wheel. “You can turn, right?”

“Oh, shut up,” I laughed, gripping the wheel a little too tightly as I made the slowest turn in history.

“Wow, look at that! You’re a natural!” he said, clapping his hands in mock celebration. “Next stop: the Monaco Grand Prix.”

After a few laps around the parking lot, Charles leaned over, his voice softer now. “Alright, ready for a challenge?”

I raised an eyebrow. “What kind of challenge?”

“Parking,” he said, pointing to an empty spot nearby. “Right there. Show me what you’ve got.”

I glanced at the spot. It looked impossibly small, though I knew it wasn’t. I shot him a skeptical look.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?”

“It’s the perfect idea,” he said with a wink. “And if you nail it, I’ll buy you whatever dessert you want tonight.”

“Oh, now you’re bribing me,” I muttered, rolling my eyes. But I couldn’t deny the extra motivation it gave me.

“Alright,” I said, taking a deep breath. “I’ve got this.”

Slowly, I started to pull into the spot. The car edged forward, my hands gripping the wheel tightly, my eyes focused on the lines. And then… the car stopped.

“You stalled it,” he said, his voice barely containing his amusement.

“I know!” I groaned, slumping in my seat as he burst into laughter.

“Hey, don’t worry. Even F1 drivers stall sometimes,” he said between chuckles. “But, uh, maybe not in parking lots.”

I shot him a look. “You’re the worst teacher ever.”

“But the best driver you know,” he winked, before giving me a quick kiss on the cheek.

“You were so close!” Charles exclaimed, laughing. “Come on, you’ve got this.”

I groaned, slumping back in my seat. “I’m never going to be good at this.”

He reached over, placing a hand on mine.

“Hey, you’re doing amazing. This is your first time. Do you know how many parking tickets I got when I was learning? My mom was not happy.”

I couldn’t help but laugh at the image of a younger Charles struggling with parking, despite now being one of the best drivers in the world. “Really?”

“Oh yeah. She threatened to stop letting me borrow her car if I didn’t learn to park properly,” he chuckled.

That gave me a bit more confidence. I took a deep breath and tried again, this time managing to park the car (sort of) successfully. It wasn’t perfect, but it wasn’t terrible either.

Charles grinned proudly. “There you go. I knew you had it in you.”

“Yeah, yeah, Mr. F1 driver,” I said, rolling my eyes but smiling.

He laughed and leaned over to kiss my cheek. “Next time, we’ll take you out on the road.”

My eyes widened. “You’re joking, right?”

“Nope,” he said with a grin. “But don’t worry, I’ll be right here the whole time, making fun of you.”

I laughed, feeling a mixture of excitement and terror at the idea of driving on actual streets. But with Charles by my side, I figured I might just survive.

As we sat in the car, a comfortable silence settled between us. My thoughts drifted back to when Charles had just started in Formula 1. I remember how nervous he was before his first race in Australia. He tried to hide it, but I could see right through him.

“I was so scared back then,” he admitted, reading my mind. “I was terrified I’d mess it up.”

“But you didn’t,” I said, smiling softly at him. “You were incredible.”

“I had you there,” he said, glancing over at me. “That helped.”

I blushed slightly, remembering how I’d stayed up with him the night before his first race, talking about anything and everything to calm his nerves. We talked about his childhood, how he used to race go-karts with his dad, and how much it meant to him to follow in Jules Bianchi’s footsteps.

“Do you ever miss those days?” I asked, curious.

“Sometimes,” he said, nodding. “Things were simpler then. Less pressure. But I wouldn’t trade where I am now for anything.”

“Not even for fewer teasing moments like this?” I joked.

He laughed, shaking his head. “Not even for that.”

[tetsuissohot]

Lice?!

☆summary. you check their head for lice!

☆warning/tags: fem!reader, mostly crack, fluff, jkk men with lice?

☆word count: 1.3k

☆a/n: I don't know how I came up with these, but I still hope you enjoy and that this brings a smile to your face!

Nanami Kento | Gojo Satoru | Toji Fushiguro | Geto Suguro | Choso

Nanami approached you in the living room, looking uncharacteristically flustered. He adjusted his tie for the third time in two minutes, clearly uncomfortable.

"Y/N," he said, voice calm but with an underlying urgency, "I need you to check my head."

You blinked, setting down the book you were reading. "Uh, what?"

Nanami sighed, running a hand through his perfectly styled blond hair. "It’s nothing serious... well, probably nothing. But I’ve noticed I’ve been itching. A lot. I can’t afford to be distracted on the next mission, so just... check."

You suppressed a smile, biting your lip. Seeing the always-composed Nanami unsettled by something as simple as an itchy scalp was too adorable.

“Sure thing,” you said, standing up and motioning for him to sit on the couch. “Come here, let me take a look.”

Nanami sat down, stiff as a board, his back straight and eyes fixed ahead as if preparing for battle. You took a seat behind him, fingers gently parting his hair.

After a few moments, you broke the silence. “So, should I call Satoru if I find anything? Maybe he’ll bring you a lice comb—”

“No.” Nanami cut you off instantly, his voice firm. “Under no circumstances should Gojo find out about this.”

You chuckled, leaning forward to kiss his cheek. “Relax. No lice. You’re clear.”

Nanami visibly relaxed. "Thank you." He stood up, adjusting his suit once more. "But remember, we never speak of this again."

"Agreed," you said with a grin. "But if you’re ever itching to come back for a check-up, let me know."

He shot you a deadpan look. “Not funny, Y/N.”

Gojo waltzed into the room with his usual swagger, but something was off. He scratched his head casually, trying to make it seem like he wasn’t bothered, but you caught the third scratch in as many minutes.

“Babe,” he began, a playful grin tugging at his lips, “you wouldn’t mind checking my head for lice, would you?”

You looked up at him, raising an eyebrow. “Lice? Satoru, you literally have Infinity. What, did they evolve to pass through it?”

Gojo plopped down on the couch beside you, leaning in close. “Listen, Infinity protects against curses, not tiny, itchy creatures. They might be cleverer than we think. I can’t risk this perfect hair being infested.”

You snorted, grabbing the comb from the table. “You really think you’ve got lice?”

Gojo gave you a dramatic shrug, scratching his head again. “Well, if you loved me, you’d check and make sure. You wouldn’t want the strongest sorcerer being brought down by some tiny bugs, right?”

You rolled your eyes, but part of you found his vulnerability oddly endearing. “Fine, hold still. Let me make sure your Infinity isn’t on vacation.”

You ran the comb through his hair while he hummed, grinning all the while. “You know, I could get used to this. You, doting on me, fingers in my hair. It’s pretty romantic if you think about it.”

“Keep talking and I’ll start charging you for this,” you teased. “Also, no lice. Your perfect hair is safe for now.”

Gojo beamed and leaned back, dramatically throwing an arm over his eyes. “Ah, wonderful! I guess I’ll have to come up with a new excuse for you to pamper me next time.”

You playfully pushed his shoulder. “Get out of here, drama king.”

Toji barged into the room with his usual swagger, but the moment he started scratching the back of his head, you knew something was up.

“Toji?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

He scratched again and grunted. “Yeah, yeah. I know how this looks.”

You blinked. “Like you need some flea powder?”

Toji shot you a glare but then sighed, leaning against the wall. “Look, I’ve been itchy, okay? Maybe it’s nothing, but I need you to check my hair. Make sure I don’t have any of those... lice things.”

You had to stifle a laugh. Toji Fushiguro, the man who took down powerful sorcerers and curses, was worried about lice.

“You? Lice?” You chuckled, motioning for him to sit. “Aren’t you supposed to be too tough for something like that?”

He scowled, sitting down with a huff. “Just check. I don’t want to be distracted on a job.”

You grabbed the comb, shaking your head as you began parting his hair. “This might be the first time I’ve seen you worried about something so... small.”

Toji grumbled. “I’m not worried, I’m just... irritated.”

After a minute or so of combing through his thick, dark hair, you grinned. “No lice. You’re good. Maybe you’re just allergic to being so grumpy.”

Toji looked over his shoulder, his smirk returning. “If you’re done messing with me, maybe you can help me... de-stress.”

You flicked his ear and laughed. “Sure, but next time, try not to come in here scratching like a stray dog.”

You were chilling in the couch when Geto came in, looking suspiciously thoughtful. He sat down beside you, scratching his head absentmindedly.

"Y/N," he started, his voice soft but curious, "do you know what’s causing this? I’ve been itching for days."

You tilted your head, looking at him with amusement. “Scratching your head a lot lately, huh? Want me to check for lice?”

Geto chuckled, raising an eyebrow. “Lice? Really? That’s your diagnosis?”

You shrugged, already grabbing the comb. “Well, you’ve been scratching a lot, and lice don’t care how strong a sorcerer is.”

Geto leaned back slightly, allowing you to start combing through his long black hair. “I’ve exorcised curses and fought cursed spirits my whole life, but I never thought I’d need protection from something so... mundane.”

You laughed softly. “Well, even sorcerers can’t escape normal human problems.”

Geto closed his eyes, a smile tugging at his lips. “I suppose that’s what I have you for. Keep me grounded in the world of lice and hair care.”

You chuckled, running the comb gently through his hair. “Exactly. Someone has to make sure you don’t lose your head over a few itchy spots.”

After a few moments, you gave him a pat on the shoulder. “All clear. No lice.”

Geto smiled, his eyes soft as he glanced over at you. “Thank you, my love. I feel much more at peace now.”

You kissed his cheek. “Glad I could help. Anything else bothering you? Maybe you’re allergic to all that long hair.”

Geto grinned. “Perhaps... or maybe it’s just an excuse to have you take care of me.

Choso shuffled into the room, looking slightly unsure of himself. He scratched his head awkwardly, avoiding your gaze.

“Y/N,” he started slowly, “I... think I might have lice.”

You blinked at him, surprised by the blunt admission. “Wait, what? Why would you think that?”

He scratched again, looking down at his feet. “I’ve been itching a lot, and I heard some people say that could mean... lice. I’m not sure, but it’s starting to worry me.”

You smiled softly, walking over to him. “Hey, it’s okay. Sit down, I’ll check for you.”

Choso obediently sat down, his shoulders tense as you grabbed the comb and began parting his hair. His usually calm demeanor was replaced by visible uncertainty.

“I’m not familiar with this... lice thing,” he admitted quietly, glancing up at you. “But it doesn’t sound good.”

You chuckled softly. “It’s just tiny bugs that can live in your hair. Annoying, but not dangerous. And don’t worry, if you’ve got them, I’ll help you get rid of them.”

Choso relaxed a bit under your touch, his tense shoulders lowering. “I’m glad you’re here. I’d have no idea how to handle something like this.”

You finished checking his hair and smiled. “Good news, Choso—no lice. You’re safe.”

Choso looked up at you, visibly relieved. “Thank you. I feel much better now.”

You ruffled his hair affectionately. “Next time you’re itching, just come to me. I’ll make sure it’s nothing serious.”

He smiled softly, his eyes warm. “I’ll remember that.”

MASTERLIST

Thank you for reading until the end! I hope you enjoyed it. This piece was more of a spontaneous writing, so there may be some imperfections in the scenario. I just had these ideas and wanted to put them down quickly. xoxo

[lycheeloving]

Why is there almost no Lex Luthor content... I saw him in Young Justice and immediately got inspired lol

Anyways, here's a yandere!Lex Luthor fic, with Superman and Batman rescuing you, but do they have good intentions? 👀 (gender neutral reader ofc)

Warnings for mind controlling/altering devices & substances ✌️ and general yandere stuff ofc

You're not the biggest fan of big events with many people, but with Lex at your side, you find you don't really mind anything, even the gala you're currently at.

Holding his hand, you happily watch him as he talks to rich people you couldn't care less about, when he turns to look at you.

You perk up as he presses a kiss to the corner of your mouth. You try to lean into it, but he pulls away too fast for your liking. At least you catch a whiff of his scent, he always smells so good...

"Be a doll and get yourself a drink at the bar, would you?"

Ah.

That's code for "we're going to talk about confidential business stuff". Sure. You can spend some time away from him, even if it makes you feel a bit uncomfortable. You'll do it for him!

You silently nod, reluctantly let go of his hand and start making your way across the room towards the bar.

As you're leaving, you make out the word "Justice League". They have been giving him trouble recently, is that what their conversation is about? You can never remember what exactly their issue is with him... He's just a CEO!

Unfortunately the bar is out of earshot, so you can't keep listening, which is exactly why he sent you away in the first place, but you sit on a stool from which you can still easily see him.

He always says that you shouldn't worry your pretty little head about his boring business stuff, so you don't, but he always looks so good when talking about it! So serious and in charge...

After ordering a fun looking cocktail you sigh, already missing him.

You didn't use to like alcohol, but everything tastes better now that you know him, so you indulge in the occasional drink.

You catch yourself staring at Lex. Maybe you shouldn't look at him this much? What if people think he's weird for dating someone who's this obsessed with him? You don't want that for him, he has so much to deal with already... Swishing your drink around, you try to tear your eyes away from him.

You sigh again.

Somebody slides onto the stool next to you and orders a fancy sounding drink. He turns to you.

"Are you ok? I could hear you sighing from across the room."

"I'm fine... I just miss my boyfriend." You hold back another sigh and absentmindedly trace the rim of your glass.

"Oh, so you came here alone?"

"No, he's over there." You subtly point at him. "He's just talking about some important business stuff without me right now."

"Lex Luthor?" He pulls a face as you nod.

"So you're..." He says your name. Apparently people know you! Huh. You hadn't realized.

"I'm Bruce Wayne, by the way."

Now that he mentions it, you don't know how you didn't notice it before. He is quite famous. You probably should have recognized him, but you were too distracted by how dreamy Lex looks...

"What are you doing with him? I mean, he's not known for being fun. Or kind."

He sounds like he's joking, but you don't think it's funny. Your face turns serious.

"You must not know him very well, then."

He holds up his hands in defense. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to offend you or anything. Or him, I guess..." He trails off.

Changing the topic with a grin, he says: "I'm guessing that means I don't have a chance with you?"

You shake your head. He can't be serious.

"...What if I shave my head? Would you consider leaving Luthor for me if I was bald?"

You crack a little smile at that. But your answer remains the same.

"No, I wouldn't leave my Lexie for anyone."

His eyes widen. "Oh, wow, so your relationship is pretty serious, then?"

Why would he even ask that?

"Of course it's serious, I love him!"

He pauses for a moment, seemingly contemplating something.

"...and does he love you?"

You gently touch the spot where Lex last pressed a kiss to your face and look in his direction, only to find he's already looking right back at you. You smile.

"He does." You're sure of it.

Bruce gets up from his chair as Lex starts making his way towards you. "Well, it's been fun, but I'm going to go find someone I actually have a chance with." And avoid a confrontation with Lex.

He winks at you. "Bye!"

You don't say anything back as he leaves, because you're too busy looking at Lex, who's now standing right in front of you. He puts his hands on the bar behind you, caging you in with his arms.

"What did Wayne want from you?"

"Oh, I don't know, nothing important." Already distracted, you reach up to play with his tie.

He raises an eyebrow. "Were you not paying attention to him? Good. Can't have you leaving me for him."

Your eyes widen and you shake your head, even though you know he's just teasing you.

You would never! He smirks as if he can read your mind.

"Well, I have some more business to attend to. I have informed our driver that he is to take you home whenever you wish, while I will be returning to the office."

You pout at him. "I know your work is important, but please don't take too long. I'll miss you..."

He smirks. "I know, darling. I will hurry back to you."

The kiss he presses to your lips is eagerly reciprocated by you, before he gently pulls your hand away from his tie and goes back to the people he was talking to earlier, vanishing through the door.

No reason to stay here now that he's gone, right? You finish your drink and leave the building, but as you turn to look for your driver, you bump into someone.

You go to apologize, but the other guy is faster.

"Sorry! I'm sorry. I didn't mean to-"

His eyes widen and he straightens his glasses.

"Wait! You're Lex Luthors significant other, right?"

You nod with a smile. How lovely that this is what people know you as!

"I'm Clark Kent, with the Daily Planet. I've been meaning to talk to you about-"

Your smile vanishes. "No comment."

Lex told you that no matter what you say, reporters twist it in a way that makes you look bad, and that it's best not to engage.

He seems a bit disappointed at your quick response. "That's fair. But off the record, can I just ask how you met him? As far as I know, you weren't a part of these circles before you showed up on his arm one day."

"Off record?"

He nods.

You think you can trust him, at least with some of it.

"We met at my workplace. I used to be a barista."

Not knowing how to make it sound nice, you leave out the part where you thought he was rude to your coworker and reprimanded him, and how you only grudgingly agreed to go on a date with him because he cornered you after work and threatened to get your coworker fired if you refused.

But it was all a big misunderstanding! During that first date you realized that you really like him and that he's a really good guy!

He just didn't know how else you'd agree to go out with him after you were so angry at the beginning!

"So it was love at first sight?" Kent questions.

"Not first sight, maybe, but I knew he was the one during our first date. It just... felt so right."

Lex, of course, did know at first sight, but he's always been smarter than you, so it's not a surprise that he caught on more quickly.

"Well, thanks for the conversation. I'm going to find someone I can actually interview now, so my boss doesn't get too mad at me. Bye!"

He stumbles towards the building, bumping into someone else. What a clumsy guy! You catch him looking at you again before he enters through the door.

You finally make your way to the driver and get into the limo, driving home in silence.

Time for a lonely night without Lex...

After you get home and get ready for bed, you put on one of his shirts and go to sleep on his side of the bed.

That way you'll definitely wake up when he returns, because he refuses to sleep on your side. He'll have to get you out of the way somehow, probably pick you up...

Burying your face in his pillow where his scent is the strongest, you fall asleep.

A noise from the direction of Lex's home office wakes you up.

You're still on his side of the bed. Did he come home and keep working? Seriously? Maybe he'll let you sit in his lap while he finishes whatever he's doing...

Quietly walking towards his room, you hear low voices. Is Lex on a call? In the middle of the night?

As you make it to the entrance, you can finally make out words. It's not Lex.

"-only let you come because you said you could be stealthy. If I knew you'd be this loud, I would have come here alone."

You sneak a look around the door. Is that Batman? And-

"This is my city, and I know Luthor better than anyone, that's why I came along. Besides, I didn't make that much noise!"

-Superman!

You take a step back. Where is the button that alarms security again...? Next to the bed, right? You start making your way back to the bedroom, but...

"We have company."

You're almost at the button, try to start running towards it, but Superman is in front of you before you can blink. Shit.

"Sorry, can't let you inform anyone that we're here, we still haven't gotten everything we came for!"

He actually looks apologetic. What is wrong with him? Breaking into your home, but pretending to feel bad about it?

He holds onto both of your arms and leads you back into the office, where Batman is tinkering with Lex's computer. What could they be looking for?

"Well, if you're here already, we might as well ask you directly. What do you know about Luthor's mind-controlling technology?" Batman asks you.

Mind-controlling? What would Lex need that for?

"I- I think you've got the wrong person. I have no idea what you're talking about."

"People who usually would never cooperate with Luthor have started working for him, so I got suspicious. After some research I was able to figure out that he uses microchips to control them. But we haven't been able to figure out how to extract them without causing damage to the person they've been installed in."

Batman takes a step towards you.

"So I'll ask one more time. What do you know?"

You really have no idea what he's talking about.

"Wh- What would Lex even use that for? I don't understand!"

"Batman, are you sure they know anything? We're already 99% sure there's a chip inside of them as well, maybe one of its effects is not remembering anything about the chips?"

"It was worth a try." Batman turns to look at Superman. "I assume this means you haven't checked for a chip yet? Make yourself useful and use your x-ray vision."

"Oh, right! Right..." Superman mumbles. "No need to be rude about it."

He focuses his gaze on you. It's pretty unnerving, knowing he's looking inside of you. There's nothing you could hide from him, nothing you could do to make him stop looking at you. You hope he's really only looking inside of you...

After looking at you for too long for comfort, he chimes up: "Yep, there's a chip! Right in the shoulder."

Of course there's a chip in your shoulder, but that doesn't mean you're being controlled!

"That's just a tracker! Lex put it there in case I'm ever kidnapped or something, so he'll immediately know where I am!"

"...You let him put a tracker in you? Voluntarily?" Superman seems confused.

"Yeah? Why wouldn't I?" You're confused as well. Why wouldn't you let him? He did it because he loves you! To take care of you!

Batman doesn't seem to care, only humming in acknowledgement and going back to fiddling with the computer.

That reminds you that Lex put another gadget on you...

Your necklace (beautiful, expensive, and of the letters "LL") sends him a discreet emergency signal as soon as you take it off! You just need to be able to reach it...

"Um... Superman?" You crane your neck to look up at him.

"Do you have to hold onto me like that? I mean, just, what could I do to get away, right?"

You look up at him and try to look as confused and innocent as possible.

You glance at Batman. He seems to not be interested in your conversation at all, instead focusing on the computer. Good.

"You're fast enough to immediately catch me, before I could even take a tiny step! Just- This position is kind of awkward to be in, right?"

Please fall for it, please fall for it...

"Sure, you've been pretty cooperative so far, I don't think we have anything to worry about with you..."

He chuckles, almost embarrassed, then reluctantly lets go of his hold on your arms, flexing his hands.

Holy shit. It worked.

"Nice, thanks!" You smile. What an idiot.

Now you just have to play it cool...

Act natural and normal and not like you're up to anything...

You reach up to rub your neck, as if having turned it to look up at Superman strained it.

Well, it did, but you're mostly doing it to get your hands near the necklace. And now you just have to-

The necklace opens with a quiet click, followed by an alarm sounding from the computer.

Right. You forgot it sends a signal to all of Lex's technology, including the computer in this room. Oops.

Oh well, doesn't really make a difference if they're aware that you alarmed Lex or not. What could they do about it now?

Both Superman's and Batman's heads snap towards you. You smile. Lex should be on his way now.

"Superman, why would you let go of-" Batman cuts himself off. "Doesn't matter. I have the information we came here for. Let's go."

"Are we just going to leave them here?" Superman sounds concerned.

Batman walks towards you, holding something up to your face. "No."

It smells weird, what is that? You feel dizzy, try to pull your head away from it, but Batman is holding onto you, you can't move.

Then, everything goes black.

You wake up on a bed in a bright, unfamiliar room with an ache in your shoulder.

There's a bandage in the spot where your tracker is. Or, used to be, you assume.

Rude of them, to dig around in your body without your permission.

Lex will freak out when he hears about this. He must be looking for you already.

What is this, some kind of infirmary? Where exactly are you?

Just when you decide to get up and try to leave or find out more about where you are, Superman enters the room.

"Oh, you're awake!" He gently pushes you to lie back down. You don't object, you know how strong he is, even if he is being careful right now.

"You shouldn't get up yet, your body should still be adjusting to the chip being gone."

He looks at you with curiosity. Or with hope? You can't quite tell what his expression means.

"Which, by the way, do you feel any different? About Luthor? Any memories popping up that you couldn't remember before?"

Now that he mentions it, some of your time with Lex seems... clearer. You suddenly remember the whole chip thing. And that he's constantly trying to fight (and kill) Superman and the rest of the Justice League. And a bunch of immoral business choices. And villain stuff.

But you still love him.

"I don't feel any different."

Lex must have had a good reason to block those memories from your mind.

Maybe it was for exactly this scenario, so that if the Justice League kidnapped you, you wouldn't be able to tell them anything! Unfortunately they were able to restore those memories, but that doesn't mean that you have to tell them that and make it easier for them!

Superman looks disappointed. "Oh... That's unfortunate."

Why does he seem to be so invested in this? Just because he hates Lex? What does he care if Lex is in a relationship, that shouldn't concern him at all!

"So can I go now?" You throw your legs over the side of the bed and sit up again.

"I mean, now that you know that I wasn't influenced by that chip? You can't keep me here, that would be kidnapping!"

It already is kidnapping, technically.

"Sorry, I can't let you leave." He doesn't look super apologetic about this.

"Batman is still working on something."

"I'm done working on it, actually," Batman responds.

Wait, when did Batman get here? You didn't hear him enter the room...

Superman perks up. "And did you find anything?"

"I did." Batman turns to you, his expression even more serious than usual.

"Blood tests revealed that you are affected by a toxin that messes with your pheromones. After digging through more information on Luthors computer, I was able to find correspondence between him and Poison Ivy. Apparently they made a concoction that is specific to your dna, meaning only you are affected by it, and it causes you to be attracted to him alone. He must have used it as an aftershave or perfume, but it seems pretty long lasting. The effects should last up to a month after exposure."

No. That can't be true.

"You're lying. Lex wouldn't do that. He had no reason to do that, I love him!"

Batman ignores you. "Luckily I was able to synthesize an antidote. Hold still."

You don't hold still, of course, trying to scramble off of the bed, but Superman holds onto you.

"Shhhh, calm down. You'll feel better soon," he whispers, his mouth unnervingly close to your ear.

Batman gets closer to you with a syringe, preparing to inject you with a green liquid.

"This is going to hurt."

"Wait!" you try to protest, but-

-you feel the syringe enter your skin, and then you feel pain. In your entire body.

It hurts! Why does it hurt so much!

You squirm in Superman's grip. Your head feels like it's going to explode.

There's nothing but pain for a few seconds that feel like eternity.

But then- nothing.

You feel nothing. No pain. And-

"Holy shit." You blink.

"Holy SHIT."

What did that fucker do to you?

"I was in a relationship with Lex Luthor? Why did nobody stop me! What is wrong with everyone!"

You blink again.

"I mean, I guess you stopped me. So... thank you?"

Superman lets go of you, seemingly content that you've come to your senses.

Batman seems to be holding back a smirk.

You're not done processing everything yet.

"Why would he-"

You forget what you were going to say and gasp, distracted by a new thought.

"Wait, what the fuck am I going to do now! Where can I go? I moved in with him and he made me break off contact with all of my friends! I don't have an apartment anymore or friends to stay with!"

You look at the two heroes. "D- Do you think he'll look for me? Probably, right? I mean, we were going to get married."

You feel sick.

"Wait, is an engagement legally binding? Fuck. Can I just leave? We didn't make it public yet, but that doesn't make a difference, right? Fuck!"

Superman puts his hand on your shoulder. "Don't worry, we'll take care of all of that. We won't allow him anywhere near you ever again."

Batman adds on: "And you can stay in the Watchtower for now. That's the safest place for you. He won't manage to get in here."

You frown. "Are you sure that's ok? I don't want to be a burden..."

Superman's smile gets wider, it's almost creepy.

Batman moves closer to you, putting his hand on your other shoulder. You're starting to feel a bit smothered.

"We'll gladly take care of you. For however long it takes."

You wonder if that means forever.

[earthchica]

never lose me | 2

Terry richmond x black fem! reader

summary: Terry takes you out on a date and, afterward, makes passionate love to you.

warning: explicit smut (18+), fluff, oral (f), unprotected sex, sweet talking, creampie, slight daddy kink, foreplay, pet names (baby girl, baby, etc.)

note: thank you all for the incredible love you've shown for the first part. There are a lot more Terry fanfics on the way. 😝💗

part two of ( never lose me )

-

It was date night with Terry, and this date was supposedly going to be different from your previous dates, which were pretty low-key but fun.

You were checking yourself out in the mirror, admiring how the satin backless dress hugged your body in all the right places and beautifully color complemented your lovely brown skin.

A soft knock echoed through the hallway; quickly, you brushed a few stray curls away from your face before you hurried to the door and eagerly swung it open.

You were met with the sight of Terry, who stood tall and imposing. He wore a short-sleeved, black button-up shirt, black pants, and dress shoes.

Both of you let out a synchronized "Damn!" as eyes roamed from each other's heads to toes, resulting in a burst of shared laughter.

"Baby girl," Terry's deep voice was passionate as he entered your apartment.

"You look stunning in that dress," Terry expressed with a charming grin, gently placing his hand on your hip.

The warmth of his compliments never failed to bring a wide, lovesick smile to your face. Oh, the effect this man has on you.

"Thank you, Terry. You look mighty fine," you said, touching his shirt and admiring his handsome appearance.

With a confident grin, he replied, "Well, they don't call me playa, playa for nothing" while popping his collar.

You rolled your eyes and playfully hit him on the chest which made him chuckle.

"I'm just playing. Thanks, baby...Oh, shit, I almost forgot, these are for you," he revealed, presenting a bouquet of your favorite flowers from behind his back.

You took the bouquet of flowers with a genuine smile illuminating your face. Reflecting on your past relationships, you realize this was the first time anyone had given you flowers.

"Aww, Terry, thank you. They're absolutely gorgeous," You gently rose up on your tiptoes, leaning in to give him a quick, sweet peck on the lips.

After placing the flowers in a vase with water, you grabbed your purse and keys and left your apartment together.

-

"So…where are you taking me tonight, handsome?" You inquired, observing him start the car before turning to look at you.

"You'll find out soon, baby. Be patient," he replied, flashing that charming smile that always made your heart flutter.

You gasped when you arrived at your all-time favorite jazz club. It offered delicious food, a live jazz band, and a dance floor. 

You used to sing here every friday night with the live band, and Terry would always come and support you; sadly, your dreams of becoming a singer never came true.

It had been a while since you last visited. You turned to Terry in surprise; he simply smiled and held your hand as you entered.

A rush of memories flooded back; this place was like a forgotten dream from the past. 

The serene ambiance, the captivating live music, and the sight of people dancing felt like magic rekindled.

You both settled at a candlelit table, ordered some wine, and savored the moment until the waitress approached to take an order.

"I think I'll go for the grilled chicken with rice," You mentioned, browsing the menu as she jotted it down, then turned to Terry.

"I'll have the steak with mashed potatoes and broccoli," He announced, returning the menu to the waitress.

"Great, I'll get the orders in right away," She said with a slight smile, and you both expressed gratitude as she walked off.

With confidence, he said, "I know, I know. I did the damn thang, huh?" and you couldn't help but laugh as you placed your hand on his.

"You did, Terry. Thank you, baby." You expressed your joy with a warm smile.

"Good! Cause all I ever wanted is to bring happiness to your life and see your beautiful smile," he said sincerely.

You gently assured Terry, caressing his cheek as he looked at you with deep love and sweetness, "As long as I'm with you, I'm happy."

"I know, baby girl," he murmured, gently pressing his lips against your hand, eliciting an even brighter smile from you.

You never thought you would see Terry's romantic side, but you were happy you did. He was so gentle and sweet; you only knew his tough and rough side.

The waiter brought the steaming, flavorful dishes to the table. As you two savored each bite, engaged in lively conversation, discussing everything and anything.

The live band began to play a cherished, familiar tune that resonated deeply with you. Observing your delight in the soft melody, Terry realized it was the perfect moment for a dance.

"Would you like to dance?" he asked, a warm smile on his face. He gracefully stood up and extended his hand towards you, inviting you to join him on the dance floor.

With a smile, you replied, "Yeah," as you placed your hand in his. He tenderly kissed your hand before guiding you to the dance floor.

Terry's warm hands rested gently on your waist as your hands were on his broad, steady shoulders.

The two of you swayed in perfect harmony with the music, completely absorbed in each other's eyes.

In that magical moment, it felt as though a captivating energy enveloped the two of you.

Transporting you both into a world where it was just two of you, dancing in a blissful cloud of love.

You never imagined experiencing love like this; for the past weeks, Terry made you feel incredibly loved and cherished.

You fell even more deeply in love with him with this entirely new and captivating side of him.

With a graceful movement, Terry spun you around and drew you close, planting a passionate and tender kiss on your lips.

You both savored a passionate minute of kissing, lost in the moment before reluctantly drawing back to catch your breath.

You gazed at him with so much love and desire, while his gaze reciprocated the same feelings.

Terry's voice was tender as he asked, "Does my baby need me?" He gently rested his hand on your cheek, his touch as soft as a whisper.

He possessed an intimate understanding of you; not a single word needed to be spoken.

“Mmm, come on, baby girl. Tell me what you need.” He whispered so profoundly and sensually.  

“Yes, I need you…Terry,” You whispered desperately, your fingers gripping his shoulder ferociously as if your life depended on it.

"Okay, baby," he grinned, his warm hand enveloping yours as you both strolled back to your table to pay the bill.

-

The drive back to your apartment felt like an eternity, and as you sat in the car, a wave of overwhelming lust made it seem like you were on the brink of losing your mind.

Terry wasn't help with stroking your leg. His touch was delicate, yet it had the power to get your panties soaked.

He was fully aware of his impact on you and wielded that knowledge precisely.

You were first to enter your apartment, the familiar scent enveloping you. The door clicks shut behind you, and before you can react, Terry presses you firmly against the wall.

A moan escapes your lips as his tender kisses trace a path along your neck, sending shivers down your spine.

You both moved across the room to your bedroom and slowly shed each other's clothes.

“Terry…I need you.” You let out a gentle moan, slowly pulled away from the tender kiss, and then started to softly stroke his dick, but he stopped you. 

“Shh, I got you, baby—such a needy little thang," he says with a chuckle before continuing to talk.

"I’m going to eat that pussy first and then going to make love to you,” He spoke, carefully lowering you onto the soft bed.

Terry took his precious time, though. He began trailing a path of soft, tender kisses to your neck all down to your stomach, hands grasping your tits for a second.

You were so eager for more that Terry found it amusing how you couldn't hide your impatience and irritation.

Terry let out a deep chuckle as he shifted slightly to get a better view of the adorable little pout on your face.

"It's not funny, Daddy. I need you so bad; please stop teasing," You said, feeling like you were about to cry.

"How much do you need me, baby?" He asked, deeply kissing your inner thigh.

"So much, Daddy. I need you; I need you to eat my pussy, please," You begged.

"Mmmm, so wet and needy for Daddy. I'm giving you what you need, baby" he said, watching him spread your legs out a little wider before diving into you.

You gasped, placing your hand on the top of his head while the other was gripping the sheets. His tongue was magically sliding through your wet folds, swirling around your clit.

“Terry,” you whimper his name, and eyes roll in the back of your head, hitching your hips up an inch to get a little bit more.

Terry let out a little muffled growl, gripping your legs to rock your hips against his face, soaking his nose and mouth.

“So feels good,” You cried in pleasure, which was always music to his ears. 

He loved hearing how he made you feel good and the pleasure he gave you. Your eyes rolled in the back of your head again when you felt his tongue hit an excellent sweet spot. 

“Mmm, you taste so good, baby.” He declares so deeply, voice sending shanks down your spine to your dripping cunt.

Terry dives back in, tongue dipping in and out of your hole at an unforgiving pace.

“Yes, yes, just like that daddy.” You moaned, feeling him begin to finger you while continuing to suck the soul out of you. 

He lifted a finger to your mouth, and you quickly sucked your juice on his finger, moaning, loving every minute of that. 

“Fuck...that’s my good girl,” He said with a little moan, pulling his finger out of your mouth, which made you whine.

He diving his tongue in and out of your pussy. Your legs began shaking and tense.

The dirty sounds of wet slurping mixed with the squelching of his fingers were...

“I’m so close, Terry…can I cum, please?” you whimpered, voice wavering more and more.

“Cum for me, baby,” he ordered, lips detaching as his fingers pressed hard and deep against that sweet spot.

You cried out his name, shaking from the great release. You lay there panting heavily, trying to get yourself together. 

Terry began kissing up your body to your lips, and you moaned, tasting your sweetness on his tongue. 

"You good, baby?" His voice barely above a whisper, he gently caresses your face, locking eyes with yours in a tender gaze.

"Shit...yeah!" You manage to say the words with a little chuckle. He responds with a grin, leaning in to plant another tender kiss on your lips.

Terry pulls away for a second to grasp his big, erect dick to fill you up perfectly. He groans at the feeling of you wrapped around him tight.

He leaned his forehead against your forehead, pulling out a little bit before thrusting back in, which made you gasp.

You were both in love, lost in the intensity of each other 's eyes as you began this passionate lovemaking. 

His thrusts were slowly and gently, the moans between you two were soft, and the holding of each other was so tight. 

"Shit," Terry groans deeply, throwing his face into your neck for a second before moving back up to fasten the pace a little bit. 

You loved feeling every inch of his dick slowly moving in and out of you. You may be a rough kind of girl, but this slow, gentleness was doing many things for you.

“Ah…you're so beautiful, baby. My girl, you're my girl, right baby?.” Terry gently asked while tenderly placing a kiss on your neck.

 “Yes, I’m your girl, Daddy,” you whispered, looking deeply into his beautiful eyes. 

Terry's strong arms effortlessly lift you, cradling you securely as you instinctively wrap one arm around his broad shoulders.

"Fuck, I love you baby." He moans, leaning his forehead against yours, thrusting up a little faster, setting a steady rhythm. 

"Ah…Terry….I love you, I love so fucking much," You moaned, feeling your pussy clenching around his dick. 

Terry pushed a few curls out of your face before kissing you, gripping your waist tighter. 

You pulled away with a moan, feeling yourself getting ready to cum. Terry immediately could tell by the expression on your face.

"Cum baby. I'm right there with you," He whispers in your ear, which is all you need to go over the edge.

"TERRY!" You cried his name, orgasming intensely. He moaned with a firm grip, seizing the back of your neck while shooting his load inside you.

The two of you remained in that position for a brief moment until Terry gently guided you down to the soft pillows before slowly pulling out of you. 

"Damn, look at that" He smirks proudly, glancing down at his cum dripping out of your pussy. 

Your intense high begins to fade while Terry goes to get a soft washcloth to clean you up.

The two of you settle into a warm cuddle now, and you nestle your head and hand against his chest.

His strong arms wrapped around you, as his hands tenderly caressed your arms.

Both of you were filled with happiness and satisfaction, basking in the afterglow of a deeply fulfilling moment.

[yan-randomfandom]

First of all, I REALLY LOVE YOUR YANDERE WRITING (especially Yandere gravity falls),I would like to make a request (if I don't order from you), could you make a Stanley Yandere headcanon with more details? 🥹, I really love this old scammer

Stanley Pines x Wealthy!Reader

warnings: slightly disturbing body description at the end?

I finally wrote a long drabble for Stan... Here's a quick one before I get ready for college (I'm already late) Enjoy!! [Words: 1201] supposed to be Mullet Stan, or js younger EDIT: I JUST REALIZED YOU SAID HEADCANONS. UM UHHHHHH I'LL DO THAT TOO

💰

Somehow, Stanley Pines managed to get an extremely rich partner. The highest class of the higher class in the social system.

It only took him two dates. The fact that you agreed to a second date was disturbing, especially considering how disastrous the first one had been. He fully expected you to ditch him just for laughs. You didn't, and actually showed up.

Stan seriously wondered if there was something wrong with you. Were you that desperately lonely? Willing to date a broke, unemployed man? Pick up the first person you find?

Yet you showered him with gifts he has never had before in his entire life. You gave him unlimited food. You gave him money and a house.

Guess his flirting skills were just that good. He liked you too, to some extent, but he suspected it's mostly because you're rich.

But, strangely enough, after your two dates, you never really gave him attention again. You were almost never home.

Very rarely you gave him affection like a significant other is supposed to do.

That was fine with him; he didn’t really expect the relationship to last like any of his others. The whole situation was weird enough as it is. As long as he got a roof over his head, he really shouldn't be one to complain... Just make sure it's not a car roof.

It's honestly all just confusing, at most.

And so, he wholeheartedly enjoyed your money, trying to double it and invest as much as he could. Hey, it's free stuff! Not like it'd backfire or anything! If you ignore fumbling that one lottery win because he got disqualified...

Then, one day, Stanley got sick.

You stayed home that same day.

He felt his body shivering, wrapping himself around his blanket like his life depended on it. Head pounding, body shaking, skin sweating. Everything was so uncomfortable.

"You're really burning up, Stan," you murmured, clicking your tongue as you read his temperature. Higher than the usual fever.

Grabbing a cup of water, you tapped him over his layer of blanket. "Please sit up and drink this. I'll give you medicine."

It was too hard for him to move. You gently pulled the blanket from him. When it reached his nose, he made eye contact with you. His eyes were glazed and half-lidded from exhaustion.

"Why are you here?" he grunted, sitting up eventually. "Thought ya forgot about me."

You stared as he drank his water. "What?"

He wiped his mouth. "Eh, nothin'. Must be busy being rich."

"..." You quietly passed him his medicine.

After he took it, Stan ignored your silence and laid back on the bed. Once again, he buried himself under his comforter.

You frowned. "After our second date, I didn't expect my schedule to be so filled. I thought I'd make it up to you by giving you gifts."

A deep chuckle rumbled from the blanket. "It's alright, toots, I'm more curious on why you bothered anyway."

"Why?" you parroted, blinking. "...Oh, Stan."

Stan felt his comforter get pulled again, turning to see your expression. It was quite unreadable, to his dismay.

He almost stopped breathing when you put a gentle hand on his cheek.

"Believe it or not, I do like you," you rubbed a thumb across his hot skin, "I'm so sorry. We'll have more bonding time when you get better, okay? I dropped everything today to take care of you, and I promise I'll do it again."

Stan's vision blurred. He quickly blinked away the tears, trying to turn away from you.

"I don't deserve that. You do know I was after your money, right?"

You chuckled. "I knew that. Don't we all?"

He pursed his lips. "Wait, seriously? Then why'd you date me?"

"I don't know," you shrugged, pulling your hand away from him. He missed your touch already. "But I don't regret it."

"What do you even see in me? I sure as hell don't know. Unless..." his eyes widened, "You're trying to—"

Your face heated up immensely with furrowed eyebrows, shaking your head. "Of course not! I would never! Please don't ever mention that again??"

He laughed, yet it sounded throaty and scratchy. You smiled anyway at the fact he got to smile.

...

"...Permission to kiss you?" you asked.

...

You cringed internally. Terrible timing to ask that question.

But Stan had different thoughts... He didn't even know if he loved you like that. Your relationship moved too fast, and now you're here, taking care of him while he's sick. Sure, you're both in a relationship, but he knew this was wrong, because it felt wrong.

But... ah, he can't think straight.

"Yes," he breathed, desperately. Almost starved. Needy.

He reveled in the feeling of both your hands resting on his cheeks, only to feel slightly dejected when you kissed his forehead.

Guess even you're aware of your relationship right now. That's nice to know. Still, he liked the sentiment to the point that a smile is threatening to go out. "You're gonna, uh... steal my fever because of this."

A chuckle left your lips. "Then I'll trust you to take care of me next."

Trust.

Stan had never trusted anyone again after the incident, and no one else had any reason to trust him either.

He raised his hands and placed them over yours, which were still on his cheeks. You watched as he brushed his nose against your hand, giving you soft, ghostly kisses with his lips.

You smiled. "During our first date, I knew you were more than what you let on. Sure, you're charming and funny, but then I saw you staring at that family with kids, and I definitely noticed when you helped that old lady with the door."

Stan stared at you.

"And I really appreciated how hard you tried to make me comfortable," your smile widened. "I think that's the main reason that made me go on a second date with you."

He coughed, looking away. "Hey. I seem to be... in need of a warm body beside me. On the bed. Because I'm sick. And in need of emotional support."

"Sure," you chuckled. "Worth the risk."

He snuggled up to you as soon as you laid beside him, wrapping his arms around your waist. It was cold, yet so warm.

You played with his hair, combing your fingers through it.

The longer you stayed with him, his warm body pressed against yours, the more he became addicted to the feeling.

The feeling of having someone by his side. Someone who actually understands him.

His eyes closed, indulging himself with your presence and warmth, trying to press himself further into you.

The fever made him feel as if he would melt into you, his flesh becoming one with yours, and everything in his body merging beneath your skin.

If he didn't love you just a few minutes ago, then he certainly does now.

And he's never letting you go.

BONUS:

"Noooooo. Please come back. I need you," he sobbed, actual tears leaking from his eyes. Your lips twitched; at least now you knew he has intense mood swings when he's sick.

You twisted the towel you had just soaked in water. "This will be quick. It'll seep the fever out of you."

"Nooo."

[lupinqs]

CHAPTER SIX ━━ Shattered Glass

☆ ━ pairing: hopkins!paige x oc (dani callan)

☆ ━ word count: 3.8K

☆ ━ warnings: mentions of conversion therapy

☆ ━ links: my masterlist, take me to church masterlist

☆ ━ author’s note: finally bro

DANI STANDS in the dimly lit darkroom, watching the chemicals slowly bring her latest batch of photos to life. The soft red glow of the safelights fill the room, casting long shadows across the black-and-white prints hanging on the drying line. The hum of the machines and the faint smell of chemicals are oddly calming, giving her a momentary escape from the chaotic mess her life has become. She likes it here. The darkroom is one of the few places that still feels like her own—maybe her safe space.

She adjusts the print in the developer tray, her hands moving automatically as her mind wanders. It’s hard not to think about the other night, about Paige’s basket. The note stays with her, a flicker of warmth that she hasn’t felt in a long time. She wishes Paige hadn’t done it. She wishes she could’ve just stewed in her misery, in the mess she’s made. It would be easier that way.

Now, Dani can’t stop thinking about it. Paige is always there, lurking at the edges of her thoughts, no matter how much Dani tries to push her away.

It’s frustrating and comforting at the same time.

The door to the darkroom swings open, flooding the room with harsh light from the hallway. Dani blinks against it, silently cursing as Serena Corren struts in. The blonde cheerleader makes no effort to close the door softly, the bang of it slamming shut making Dani wince. Serena isn’t supposed to be here, at least not right now, but here she is anyway, crashing into Dani’s quiet space like she always seems to do.

“Hey, Dani.” Serena drops her yearbook materials on the counter with a loud thunk, her sharp voice cutting through the low hum of the room.

“Hey,” Dani mutters, her eyes fixed on the developing photo, hoping Serena will take the hint and keep her distance. But that isn’t how Serena works. She never really does subtle.

Serena leans over, peering at the picture. “You’re still working on that football game? Don’t you have, like, a thousand of those already?”

Dani shrugs, her jaw tight. “I’m trying to be thorough.”

Serena scoffs. “No, I think you’re trying to be alone in here, avoiding everyone.” She straightens, fixing Dani with a pointed look pursing her lips into a line. “You’ve been weird lately, you know that?”

Dani’s shoulders tense. She knows where this is going and she doesn’t want to deal with it. “I’m fine, Serena.”

“Yeah, sure,” the blonde drawls, pulling up a stool and plopping down on it without asking. “That’s why Beau’s been bitching to everyone about you. Says you’ve been acting all ‘distant.’”

Dani doesn’t say anything, keeping her eyes locked on her work. Beau. Of course, it’s about Beau. Everything is always about him—her boyfriend, her obligation. The person she’s supposed to care about. Except she doesn’t. Not really.

Serena crosses her arms, eyeing Dani with a mix of disdain and curiosity. “You’re lucky, you know that? Beau’s, like, the hottest guy in school, and you’ve been treating him like shit recently. So, spill, and tell me what your deal is.”

Dani’s grip tightens on the edge of the counter, knuckles turning white. “I’ve just been dealing with stuff,” she mumbles.

“Right, ‘stuff.’” Serena’s tone drips with sarcasm, her eyes narrowing. “You’ve got everyone worried, Dani. Not just Beau—though, let’s be real, he’s the only one actually trying. The rest of us? We don’t know why you even bother hanging out anymore if you’re gonna be so… ugh.”

Dani’s stomach twists, but she keeps her mouth shut. Of course, Beau’s trying. That’s the narrative. That’s always the narrative. But neither him or Serena or any of their other friends are ever actually trying to help. The blonde isn’t even asking if Dani was okay. She’s here to make a point, to make sure Dani knows she’s out of line for daring to withdraw from the group.

Serena’s lips curl in a half-smile, her eyes sharp. “Look, I get it. Maybe you’re going through something or whatever, but seriously? You’re not the only one with problems, Dani. Beau’s been putting up with a lot from you.”

Dani lets out a short, bitter laugh before she can stop herself. “Putting up with me? Are you serious?”

Serena’s smile falters for a second before she narrows her eyes. “Yeah, I am. You’ve been flaking on him for weeks, acting all moody, and he’s still there. Most guys wouldn’t stick around if their girlfriend was being such a—” Serena throws her hands up in the air, searching for a word, “—headcase!”

Dani’s vision blurs with irritation, but she swallows it down. It isn’t worth it, arguing with Serena. Sure, the girl was nice and welcoming at first, but it didn’t take Dani much time to realize just how fake Sersna can be. By now, Dani can hardly stand her, but she’s inevitable—Serena’s a part of Beau’s circle, part of this whole sick, suffocating dynamic Dani’s been shoved into. At this point, she has to hang out with them, even though Serena and the others have no idea what’s really going on, and even if they did, they wouldn’t care. They’d probably just mock her even more.

She can’t explain why she’s acting “weird.” She can’t explain why the thought of being around Beau makes her feel like her skin is crawling. She can’t explain how much she hates who she’s become since she got back from camp. She can’t explain that the more she’s sucked into this straight girl, quarterback’s girlfriend, Catholic princess persona, the more she feels the girl underneath it slipping away, caught in between two worlds that don’t meet.

Serena’s still watching her, waiting for a response, her lips frowning in faux concern. “You’re lucky he hasn’t dumped you yet.”

Dani grits her teeth. Lucky. She’s not lucky; she’d be much more lucky if he dumped her. Beau’s controlling, selfish, and she knows he’s never given a damn about what she wants or how she might feel. He’s only gotten worse lately too, like a few nights ago—leaving her stranded, making her walk home alone in the dark while he drove off, doing who-knows-what.

But none of that matters, because in Serena’s world, Beau can do no wrong. In fact, Dani wouldn’t even be surprised if the two of them have fucked by now. “Maybe I don’t care if he dumps me,” the brunette mutters under her breath.

Serena snorts, “Yeah, right. Please. You’d be miserable without him, Dani. You wouldn’t have anyone left.”

That is what hits Dani hard, the words sinking into her like ice. She wants to that Serena’s wrong, but the fear is there, gnawing at her. Because who will she have without Beau, without this group she’s been forced into? She’s already lost her real friends, the ones who actually matter. Paige, Thaliah, Jalen.

“Look,” Serena continues, her voice smug, “just stop acting like this. Whatever this moody, weird thing you’ve got going on? It’s not cute. We’re all getting tired of it.”

Dani feels the anger bubbling up again, sharp and hot in her chest. She can’t do this anymore—can’t sit here and listen to Serena drone on about something that doesn’t even really fucking involve her. “I don’t care if you’re tired of it, Serena. You know what? Maybe I’m the one tired of it, tired of hanging around all of you, tired of hearing you bitching, and tired of the fact that none of you have a nice fucking bone in your body!”

Serena’s eyes flash with surprise, but she quickly covers it with a smirk. “Wow, okay. You’ve been one of ‘us’ for months now. So what the fuck does that say about you then, hmm?” She pauses, letting the words sink in, before continuing, “You’re just like the rest of us. And if you’re really gonna throw away everything just because you’re in one of your moods, then I guess I thought you were smarter than you really are.”

Dani’s heart pounds in her chest, her hands shaking slightly as she turns back to her photos. She doesn’t respond. She refuses. Because if she does, she isn’t sure what will come out—whether it would be anger or something worse. She doesn’t want to cry in front of Serena. She refuses to give her that satisfaction.

After a long, tense silence, Serena stands, brushing invisible dust off her skirt. “Whatever, Dani. Keep being weird if that’s what you want. Just don’t be surprised when Beau gets tired of your shit and moves on. You’re replaceable, you know.”

Dani bites the inside of her lip at the venom in Serena’s words, but she doesn’t look up. She doesn’t let herself react, no matter how badly she wants to lash out.

The door to the darkroom creaks open again as Serena leaves, slamming it shut behind her.

PAIGE HASN’T heard a single word her financial algebra teacher has said the entire class period. Her foot taps against the floor incessantly, the low thud thud thud filling her head. She’s restless—scratch that, obsessed. Her is was stuck in one place, on one person.

Dani.

Dani, Dani, Dani, Dani, Dani, Dani, Dani.

Paige has been like this since Halloween, unable to focus on anything except the basket she left on the girl’s porch, hoping it would be some kind of olive branch. She’s spent the last few days replaying every interaction in her mind, trying to decipher Dani’s walls, to figure out what exactly is going on inside her head.

For how well and how long Paige has known the brunette, she simply can’t tell. She’s tried—but she has no idea what’s swirling in her ex-best friend’s mind that prompted her to create this entire situation. But what Paige does know is that she can’t keep sitting in this classroom pretending to care about math when all she wants to do is get Dani to talk to her. Really talk to her.

She lets out a sigh, barely noticing the way the teacher glances up from her notes. Paige bites her lip, her foot tapping even faster now, her knee bouncing. She can’t take it anymore.

Shooting her hand up, Paige catches the teacher’s attention. “Ms. Greene?” she asks, her voice a little shaky.

Ms. Greene, who’s in the middle of explaining some equation Paige can’t even begin to follow, stops mid-sentence, raising an eyebrow. “Yes, Paige?”

Paige swallows, feigning discomfort. “I don’t feel well. Can I go to the nurse?”

Ms. Greene studies her for a moment, clearly weighing how bad Paige looks. Then, she nods. “Sure. Go ahead.”

Paige quickly packs up her stuff, barely caring about leaving her things behind, and bolts out of the classroom. She isn’t going to the nurse. She has somewhere else to be—somewhere Dani would be.

She hates to admit it, but she knows Dani’s schedule like the back of her hand. It isn’t like she meant to memorize it; it just kind of happened over time. Call her a stalker—maybe she is—but she’s always paid attention to Dani, even now when they aren’t even friends anymore.

And she knows exactly where Dani is during this period: the darkroom. Paige has seen her slip into it on more than one occasion during this period. Paige has been in there herself several times, all with Dani, all last year. She’d sit on one of the stools and watch Dani work, infatuated like she always seems to be by the brunette. She misses it. She misses everything.

And she can’t stand it anymore. She has to get through to Dani. Today.

The hallways are mostly empty as Paige strides down them, her heartbeat quickening with every step. She isn’t sure what she’s planning to say, but she knows she has to say something. If she can just get Dani to open up—to explain why she’s shutting everyone out, why she’s pushed Paige away so violently—then maybe, just maybe, things can go back to how they used to be.

As Paige turns the corner, she slows her pace, watching someone step out of the darkroom. Serena Corren struts out, her face twisted in an annoyed scowl. The cheerleader’s blonde hair whips behind her as she slams the door with enough force to make Paige raise her eyebrows.  Serena’s eyes flick up as she passes the basketball player, and for a brief moment, their gazes meet. Paige can see the disdain in Serena’s eyes—she looks irritated, almost as if she’s blaming Paige for something, but neither of them say anything. The silent exchange is fleeting and Paige thinks it’s a little odd, too.

Paige reaches the door of the darkroom, her heart thudding in her chest. She doesn’t hesitate, doesn’t knock. She just pushes the door open. The low red light of the darkroom washes over her like a wave of unease, the smell of developing chemicals hangs in the air, and the soft hum of the machines fill the silence.

Before Paige can even step fully inside, Dani’s voice cuts through the air, sharp and biting. “God, if you’re gonna keep berating me about this—” Dani snaps, her tone dripping with irritation, clearly mistaking Paige for Serena.

But when Dani spins around, her words die on her lips. The fiery annoyance in her eyes quickly evaporates, replaced with shock. “Paige,” she breathes, like the wind has been knocked out of her. She blinks, her body stiffening. “What are you doing here?”

Paige steps further into the room, letting the door click shut behind her. She swallows, her heart racing as she locks eyes with Dani. “I’m here because we need to talk,” she says steadily.

Dani’s face hardens. She turns back to her photos, ignoring Paige like she isn’t even there. “There’s nothing to talk about,” Dani mutters, flat and dismissive.

“Yes, there is,” Paige responds firmly. She refuses to let Dani shut this down again. “You know there is.”

Dani quickly turns back toward Paige, a faux smile on her face. “You’re so right, Paige, we do need to talk,” she says, her tone sickly sweet. “Thank you for the basket, I appreciated it.” And then she turns right back to the photos.

Paige clenches her fists, frustration boiling up inside her. She’s spent months tiptoeing around Dani’s moods, giving her space, hoping she’ll come around on her own. But that isn’t working. She isn’t going to stand by while Dani pushes her further away, destroying herself in the process.

“Stop it,” Paige replies, shaking her head. “You know that’s not what I’m talking about. I’m not leaving until you tell me what’s wrong, what exactly has been going on with you.”

Dani scoffs, shaking her head as she continues to work, refusing to look at Paige. “What, you’re just going to barge in here and demand I spill my guts?” she asks incredulously. “That’s not how this works, Paige.”

Paige steps closer, her voice firm but pleading. “I’m not trying to make demands. I just… I need to understand why you’ve been acting like this. Why you’ve been pushing me away. You don’t even look at me anymore, Dani. And I—” Paige’s voice cracks, and she swallows hard, fighting the emotion rising in her throat. “I don’t understand what I did wrong.”

Dani’s hands still over the photo paper, her fingers trembling slightly, though she quickly balls them into fists to hide it. She doesn’t respond, but Paige can see the tension radiating from her.

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” Dani finally mutters under her breath, her voice barely audible.

Paige’s heart clenches. “Then why are you pushing me away?”

“I’m not,” Dani rebuttals, though both of them know she’s lying. “I just—I can’t do this right now, okay? You should go.”

“No,” Paige says, shaking her head, her voice ready to rise at any second because she’s tired of this. “You don’t get to do that. You don’t get to shut me out like this after everything we’ve been through, and then lie and say that you aren’t. I care about you, Dan. I always have. And I know you care about me, too. So, why are you doing this?”

Dani shakes her head profusely, almost like she’s trying to shake something out of her brain. “You wouldn’t get it.”

“Try me,” Paige shoots back, her frustration rising. She can feel the walls between them, the weight of everything Dani isn’t saying, and it’s suffocating. “I’ve been your best friend since we were kids. You can’t just cut me out of your life without an explanation. I know something happened over the summer. Something had to have happened, because I know you wouldn’t do this without reason I know it. But I don’t know why you won’t let me in. Why you won’t even talk to me.”

“No!” Dani responds, her voice rising slightly to meet Paige’s. She stays stubborn, not breaking. “You won’t understand.”

“Then make me understand!” Paige bursts out, her frustration finally spilling over. She throws her hands up in the air in disbelief. “God, Dani, I’m trying so hard to be here for you, but you’re making it impossible. Why won’t you just talk to me?”

Dani slams her hand down on the counter, making Paige jump. “Because talking won’t fix anything!” she snaps, turning to face Paige. The blonde can see the tears glistening in Dani’s eyes. “You think this is all about you, don’t you? That I’m pushing you away because of something you did. But it’s not about you. It’s about me. It’s about everything I’ve been through, everything I’m still going through. And you can’t fix that.”

Paige’s heart clenches at the sight of Dani’s tear-filled eyes, but she doesn’t stop. She steps closer once more, her voice soft but firm. “Maybe I can’t fix it. But I can be there for you. I can help you if you just let me. Please, Dani. Just tell me what’s going on.”

Dani shakes her head, her hands trembling. She averts her eyes, looking at the corner of the wall, refusing to meet Paige’s gaze. “I—I can’t,” she whispers, her voice cracking. “You don’t know what it was like…”

Paige’s breath hitches. Dani’s breaking, right in front of her, and Paige can feel it—the dam about to burst.

“What what was like?” Paige asks gently, her heart pounding in her chest. Her voice drops to a low murmur. “What happened, Dani?”

Dani stares at the ground, eyes shimmering with unshed tears. Paige watches as Dani digs her nails into her thigh and she fights the urge to take the brunette’s hand in her own. “My dad…” the Callan girl starts, hardly a whisper. “He—on the Ring doorbell—he saw us kiss. You know how he is. You know what he believes in. He couldn’t accept the fact that his daughter liked other girls. So, he sent me to camp. And—and it wasn’t just any camp…” she pauses, finally meeting eyes with Paige. The blonde watches as her tears begin to spill, and she feels her own heart break with every word that comes out of Dani’s mouth. Dani shrugs, “It was conversion therapy.”

Paige freezes. “What?” Her mind reels, the words not fully sinking in at first. “You… you went to—”

“Yeah,” Dani laughs bitterly, her voice thick with tears. “All summer. While you were at basketball camps, traveling, I was stuck in that place. Being told every day that who I am is wrong. That what I feel is… is disgusting. That I was disgusting.”

Paige feels like the ground has been ripped out from under her. She stumbles forward, her hand reaching out to touch Dani’s arm, but Dani flinches away.

“Dani…” Paige’s voice is shaky, her heart aching. “I—I had no idea. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I couldn’t,” Dani whispers, and her voice breaks with a sob. “I couldn’t tell you, Paige. I wanted to. You don’t know how much I wanted to. But—y’know, I felt ashamed of the fact that I loved you just as much when I left camp as I did when I got there, even after everything they put me through. And I—I wanted to protect you from all my problems.” She pauses, sniffling slightly, trying to wipe her tears with the back of her hand. It doesn’t matter; they keep coming. “My dad, too. He’s friends with Beau’s parents. They started it—the thing with Beau and I. It made my dad happy; that’s all I really wanted. I’ve never wanted or liked Beau, Paige.”

Paige stares at her, eyes flitting across her face. She wants so badly to reach out and touch Dani, hold her. But she doesn’t want to scare her away. So, instead, she asks, “You never did? Not at all?” She thinks she already knows the answer, and she feels almost guilty for being relieved at it.

“Never,” Dani confirms, her arms wrapping around herself, probably trying to stem the sobs. “I wanted someone else.”

Paige’s heart skips a beat.

“But my dad,” the brunette chokes out, “he told me that if he ever saw us together again, that he’d send me back.” Dani looks up at Paige once more, her eyes bloodshot and filled with more fear than Paige has ever seen. Dani shakes her head, sobbing as she says, “Paige, I don’t wanna go back.”

Paige feels her heart shatter at the sight of Dani’s pain finally laid out before her. The blonde takes the final step forward, her hands going to cup Dani’s cheeks, making Dani look at her. Paige says firmly, feeling more protective of the girl before her than anything else in her entire life, “You’re not gonna go back, okay? He can’t you send you back. I won’t let him.”

Dani sobs again, and Paige pulls her in closer, was wrapping her arms around Dani into a tight hug. She holds her so tightly that it feels like they might both stop breathing, but Paige doesn’t care. She isn’t letting go. Not now. Not ever.

“I’m so sorry,” Dani whispers through her tears, clinging to Paige like she’s the only thing keeping her grounded. “I’m so sorry, P. I—I didn’t want to push you away, but I was so scared. I still am.”

“You don’t have to be scared anymore,” Paige murmurs, her own tears slipping down her cheeks as she holds Dani even tighter. “I’m here. I’ll always be here. Everything’s gonna be okay, I promise.”

They stay like that, locked in each other’s arms, both of them crying, both of them holding on like the world is falling apart around them.

Because maybe it is.

But for the first time in months, they aren’t facing it alone.

[wonsdoll]

( ✉️ ) CLEAR HEART ✷ 니키

PREC𝓲S ｡｡ 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖻𝗈𝗒𝖿𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗇𝖽 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝖿𝗈𝗋𝗍𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖺𝖿𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝖺 𝗅𝗈𝗇𝗀 𝖽𝖺𝗒

니키 ／⠀ female reader ── fluff + non idol au ｡｡ ⠀for my sia bia ps: i love u :( @elysianiki !! . . . more

the door creaked open as you stepped inside your apartment. exhaustion weighing down on you like a heavy brick. it had been a long day, the kind of day that drains you, leaving you in your thoughts, feeling a mix of different emotions.

school had been rough—an overwhelming amount of work, too many people, and zero patients to deal with it. as well as home, it hadn’t been any easier. you felt alone in your thoughts, felt as if they weren’t anyone to comfort you within this hard time.

you sighed loudly, kicking off your shoes and dropping your bag in its usual corner. you weren’t expecting any company today—especially not your boyfriend riki.

“baby?” his voice startled you a little. riki’s voice was soft, full of concern.

you walk into the living room to see him sitting back on the couch. riki’s face softened as he sees you, a huge smile on his face. his eyes quickly take in your expressions and without another word, he gets up from the couch, wrapping you into his embrace.

riki didn’t say anything at first, he just held you. his arms were strong yet gentle, his chin rested on the top of your head as you buried your face in his chest. somehow, everything about riki’s presence made you feel a little lighter. the weight of your hard day wasn’t entirely yours to carry anymore.

“you don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to, baby.” riki whispers softly into your ear, his fingers gently run through your soft hair, leaving you feeling relaxed. “but i’m here, okay?”

you nodded against him. it felt as if the whole day was bubbling under your skin, too heavy to even place into words.

when you finally pulled back, riki tucks a few strands of hair behind your ear. “rough day?” he asks, his voice barely below a whisper, as if he didn’t want to break the fraglie air between the two of you.

“yeah.” you admitted softly, your voice a bit shaky. “school was awful.. and the rest of my day just got worse.”

riki frowned, concern filling his eyes. “i’m so sorry baby..”

you shook your head. “it’s fine.. i just don’t want to even think about it anymore.”

“then don’t.” he says simply, his lips curling into a smile. “let’s forget about today okay? now come here.”

riki leads you over to the couch, pulling you gently down with him until you were both laying together. your head rested near his chest, hearing every beat of his heart. riki adjusts a blanket over you both, wrapping you in more warmth. one of his hands stroke your back soothingly.

“it’s alright baby.” he murmurs, his voice soft and steady. “you’ve had a rough day and it’s okay, i’ve got you now.”

you closed your eyes, feeling yourself relax after hearing his words. his heartbeat was steady and very soothing to hear after a long, tiring day. riki didn’t even need to say much; just being this close to him made everything better.

“i love you.. you know that right?” riki whispers against your smooth hair.

“i know.” you smile, softly.

“and you’re amazing. even on days like today, when the world feels like it’s against you, you’re still the strongest person i know.”

you snuggled closer to him, allowing his words to wrap around you. “thank you for making it all better..” you smile, a smile quickly falling onto his face.

riki laughs lightly, pulling you closer to him. “you never have to thank me baby, i’m always here.”

you and riki laid on the couch for some time, his soft hums sending you into a light sleep. as you slept, his hands rested gently on your back, holding you from harm’s way and protecting you.

“tomorrow will be a better day baby, i promise.” riki whispers softly against your ear, wrapping his arms around you a little more tighter before closing his own eyes.

💌 : for my sia, i love you always my love 💗 && the rest of my 3ki if you ever need comfort !! two posts in 24 hours? i’m on a roll (not for long)

[klemen-tine]

Please Please Please (Mom! Reader x Batfam)

Don't prove I'm right~ I love that song so much. Anyways! Not extreme Yandere, but part 2 will have some. This is just the setting up for it. Also, while writing I won't lie, I forgot about Damien, so he will have a lot of showtime in the next part. FYI

TW: Cheating, slapping (Reader slaps Bruce), Reader also throws something at Bruce.

In now way do I condone partner violence. no matter how mad you get, you should never hit or throw something at your partner.

@Rosecentury 

@Problematicreblogger

@Kurai-hono-blog 

@Lunaluz432

Y/N had put her life on pause for Bruce and his hero complex. She is a top-model. A supermodel that is still being asked to do photoshoots, make guest appearances, and dominate the runway despite her time away from it. The strict workout regime was still her daily exercise, and she still was conscious of what she ate. Age had not affected her the way it has to some of her friends because Y/N lived to be a model. 

Yet, she had put that on the backburner for her husband and kids. She forced her attention onto the scarred and vibrant children that her traumatized husband brought in like strays. Y/N raised them, alongside Alfred. It’s because of them that their sons and daughters did not turn out as crooked as Bruce Wayne. A man that was full of jagged and sharp pieces, piercing the skin of whoever got close. 

E/C eyes rolled nearly out her socket, taking a sip of the morning coffee and waiting for her youngest to come down. She ignored the nervous glances being sent her way from her sons, and instead pulled out her phone to look for a familiar contact. 

“None of you have anything I need to be here for, do you?” Tim and Jason quickly shook their heads, and Dick gave a nervous smile, “Not really… although it would be nice if you stayed here though.” Y/N raised a delicate eyebrow, and a sharp smile formed on her lips as she pressed ‘call,’ “Ah, don’t worry Dickie, I’ll come back. I’m just going on a trip.” 

The person answered, and before they could start spewing curses, Y/N greeted them, “Hey, Jackie! It’s Y/N.” 

“E-Y/N! What’s going on?” 

“Remember those gigs you were telling me about?” 

“Yeah?” 

“Book them.” The boys stood up while her manager on the other line sputtered in excitement, “Really?! Oh my gosh Y/N this is so exciting! Which ones do you want? I know you want to stay close to Gotham -heaven knows why- but I can find some in-” 

“All of them.” 

“...what?” 

“Book all of them.” Jackie hummed, “Some are out of the country though.” 

“Even better! Pack your bags Jackie, we are gonna be gone for a while. Bring Stella too, I’ll pay for both of your tickets and lodgings.” Jackie was stuttering, “The-the first gig in a week is Venice, Italy! Is that enough time for you to-” 

“Let's leave tonight.” 

“Tonight?!” Everyone screeched, and Y/N gave her sons an annoyed look, “Yes, tonight. Let's enjoy Venice like when we were young, and show Stella around. I’m sure the two of you could use a vacation anyways.” 

“....Y/N, is everything okay?” 

“Peachy. See you tonight.” Y/N hung up, and threw her phone on the opposite end of the couch, continuing to sip her cup of coffee as the news reporter continued to talk about Batman and his risky rendezvous with Catwoman. The perfect love story. 

The pursuer and the pursued. The cop and robber. Batman, the man of justice, and Catwoman, a thief. 

Her jaw clenched, and her fingers tightened around the handle of the mug. The air around her was full of jitters and Dick was basically vibrating with worry, Jason focused intensely on his phone, and Tim was drinking even more coffee. 

“Um, mom, are you… is this…” Dick was fumbling, trying to find the words, and Y/N smiled, “C’mon on Dickie. It’s been a while since I went on the runway, or even in front of a camera outside of Gotham. You’re all old enough now, it’s fine.” 

“What about Dami?” Y/N smiled sadly, “Dami will be fine. Hell, today I’ll have him help me choose the jewelry and clothes that I will be packing.”

“You’re gonna have him help you pack your bags to leave?” Tim wondered, and Y/N flinched out how terrible that sounded, “Not like that. It’s a trip. A fashion trip and a girls trip.” Jason scrunched his nose, “Ma, fucking Bruce just go caught cheating and was broadcasted across the NEWs, and you’re now leaving for a trip. Do you think Dami will understand that?” 

Y/N took a sip of her coffee, “He will. It’ll be a conversation but it will be reiterated as many times as he needs to hear it. Plus, it’s not like you guys can’t call me.” Damien came stomping down the stairs, dressed in the Gotham Academy Uniform, and Y/N threw on a smile that would have had actresses crying, “Dami! I need your help today, so nevermind school.” Green eyes blinked in shock, his gaze taking in every one in the room before landing back on her, “Are you needing my assistance in packing?” 

“Only for a trip. So there’s no need to pack everything.” Damien nodded, “Fine. I will assist you. You have an abysmal amount of jewelry and some of them are simply deplorable.” Y/N chuckled, “Thanks Dami.” He went back up the stars to change, and Y/N turned back to the NEWs where they were finally talking about something different. 

Sighing, Y/N stood up from the couch, “I’ll be in my room packing if anyone needs anything.” Silence followed her, and once she was out of earshot, Dick proceeded to panic even more. 

+++

She’s in Greece now. After spending a week in Italy, a week in Iceland, two weeks in France, and now four days in Zakynthos, Greece, she knows her vacation time is limited. Y/N has been using Bruce’s card to pay for the three luxury hotel rooms, one for herself (obviously), Jackie, and Stella. She’s used them for the plane flight in first class, the first class train ride, the yacht to get to this island, the fancy dinners, shopping sprees, any time that she needed to put money down she was using his card. 

Bruce is a billionaire, he doesn’t care and Y/N is also a billionaire, but this is her way of being petty. Why would she waste her money? 

A delicate eyebrow raised at the man in the mirror, followed by two of their sons and a butler dressed in a Hawaiian shirt. 

“Lady Y/N, it is great to see you.” 

“Hey Alfie, vacation looks good on you. I highly recommend the mimosa’s here, none of them have been bad.” 

“Hi Ma, you look relaxed.” Jason walked further into the room, taking a seat on the plush chair and grabbing a grape, and tossing some to Dick. Their oldest son smiled and waved, “C’mon mom, I know you’ve been here before, but you could at least try and look like a tourist.” Y/N rolled her eyes, smiling lovingly and flicking her hair over her shoulder. She leaned close to the mirror again, rubbing sunscreen on her face and massaging it into her skin. 

Her husband made his way a little closer as the family spread out in the room. Jason sitting in the chair, Dick on the bed, and Alfred standing near the door. Y/N sneered at Bruce through the mirror, “Bringing the kids to see you get humiliated is something I would have never thought you’d do.” 

Bruce sighed heavily, and Y/N wiped her hands on the towel and sipped her mimosa. Piercing blue eyes, filled with exhaustion and guilt, met hers, “Y/N, how much longer are you scheduled for?” 

“Hmm, for a while Bruce,” She pretended to think, “After all, I’ve been wanting to get back into modeling now that most of the kids are becoming independent, and what better way to announce to the world that I am back than a hard launch.” Bruce raised an eyebrow at her, “Will it be my card you’ll continue to use.”

“Of course! It's the least my darling, idiotic, and hormone-rivaling-a-teenager husband can do after that stunt, right?” The room got colder and Dick sat up straighter at the tension between his two parental figures. Y/N has always had a sharp tongue and quick wit, one she used on Bruce a lot. Rarely ever was it aimed to be hurtful though. 

“Y/N, temper.” Dick’s jaw opened and Jason made an exaggerated gasp. Alfred looked pained as Y/N whirled around and seethed at Bruce, “Temper? Temper?! Who the hell are you to tell me to watch my temper when you can’t even control your own hormones? 

“If you wanted to see my temper you just had to fucking say so!” Dick turned to Alfred, trying to see if there was anything he could do, but at the resigned look the man gave him, the oldest son choked on a noise, “This is a new side of mom.” 

“Lady Y/N has always had a temper, one that rivals Master Bruce.” She looked like a puffed up cat while Bruce was cowing like a dog with puppy eyes, “When they were younger, she would put even the adults in their place.” Her hand grabbed the now cold coffee pot, and Dick feels like it was only because Bruce was used to stuff being thrown at him and catching things that he was able to grab the projectile before it landed on the walls and carpet. Alfred raised a brow, “Sometimes that temper bleeds into other things.” 

Their mother was seething in front of Bruce, looking like a bull and was ready to charge into a china shop. While Bruce may not be as delicate as one, Dick has money on Y/N still doing a lot of damage if she were to charge. Metaphorically and physically.  

“Y/N, please.” Bruce tried again, only to see her get more angry. His hands were up in a placating manner, and Y/N held her own hands tense and ready to swing if he came closer. 

“Y/N, it genuinely was an accident.” 

“ ‘it genuinely was an accident’–” She mocked, purposefully making her voice annoying “-fuck off! Like your tongue going down her throat is an accident. Didn’t know that could happen!” Y/N looked around again for something to chuck, while Bruce closed the space between them inch by inch. 

“What’s next? Are you going to trip and accidentally find yourself between her legs with your pants down?” Jason and Dick blanched at the imagery. 

��Over a decade of marriage, of me playing the perfect ex-model-arm-candy wife for Bruce Wayne just for you dressed in a fucking furry suit to go and makeout with another fucking furry! 

“Like! I know we weren’t in this for love, but there. Are. Still. Standards!” She enunciated each word with a swat of her hand on Bruce’s shoulder. 

“I still have standards! You don’t see me making out with anyone else do you? Even as I’m playing Supermodel Y/N, dressed to the millions and making everyone drool, I don’t go making out with them!” 

“How could Batman, of all persona’s you wish to play, do that? I expected that from Brucie, not Batman, defender of Justice or whatever bullshit you spew when dressed in that gothic suit.” 

Bruce sighed, “Y/N, it was bad timing.” He gave her a hard look, “Justice and this are different. You cannot compare the two.” The man knew he messed up once the words left his mouth and he closed his eyes in regret. 

Jason saw the slap coming and he braced himself for the impact it would have. Bruce didn’t catch it, despite him being fully capable of it, and when it landed everyone winced at the sound and the red mark. 

“Well this is my justice. Now go away. I have a photoshoot to get ready for and you are just pissing me off!” The hand print was immaculate. One that had Jason biting back a laugh and Dick looking horrified. Y/N whirled back around to face her vanity, where all her jewelry laid on the surface, and her attention was focused back on picking which one would go with her outfit to the shoot. 

Jason whistled when Bruce turned around to face his kids and Butler, “Good hit Ma. You should hit the other side to even it out.” Y/N gave a laugh, picking up the pearl earrings encased with gold, and she continued to pick out a necklace. 

“Jay, help me out here please.” Rough hands replaced her’s, and green eyes met furious E/C though the mirror. Using the safety of her son’s larger frame to hide herself, Y/N slowly let herself crumble a little bit. Jason could see the anger, hurt, and sadness that was slowly turning the sclera red from holding back tears. There was a subtle shake in her shoulders and the trembling of lips, but Y/N held it together. She was holding onto it by the seams, desperately waiting for the man causing her pain to be gone. 

When the gold clasped, Y/N reached over for her large hat and sunglasses, “Enjoy the beach. Alfie, you especially should enjoy this vacation. Don’t let this  stupid, untrustworthy, and manwhore of a furry disrupt it.” With that, she slammed her hotel room door on her way out, and they all listened as her heels clicked down the hall until they were out of ear shot. 

Alfred glanced at his ward, “Well, I am not one for violence when there are disputes between partners, but I will say that one slap was well deserved, Master Bruce.” The man sighed, slightly rubbing his cheek, “I think the last time she hit me that hard was when we were in grade school.” 

“She put all her body weight into that.” Dick glanced at the hand print, “Woah, I think you can see the ring too.” Jason whistled, and Bruce closed his eyes and took deep breaths to keep himself steady, reflecting on the conversation and where exactly he messed up. 

“I think this is the third time she’s slapped me…” 

“Fourth, sir.” Bruce nodded, remembering the third time. Jason raised an eyebrow, “I only know of the time you were both 6, and you said something mean so she hit you.” Dick pouted, “I know of the one in Middle School, when you were once accused of touching her butt.” 

Alfred raised a brow, “The third time was when she dropped you off at the manor after a long night of drinking and you—” 

“Thanks Alfred, there’s no need to tell that story.” Bruce’s cheeks were now flushed from embarrassment rather than the slap on his cheek.  Y/N truly has seen him through it all. When he got into fights in school, it was always her eyes he sought out after each one. Bored E/C eyes, framed by thick lashes and elegant eyeliner, always watching with a blank expression. Bruce Wayne rarely phased Y/N L/N. When he was younger, he noticed how his last name made people stumble or stutter when talking to him, allowing him to say whatever he wanted. It did nothing to Y/N, who met his gaze and taunts head on with her own witty comebacks that stuck at parts of Bruce that had him fumbling. 

He can remember his dad, Thomas Wayne, laughing when he caught Y/N’s sly comeback directed at Bruce after he said something about her dress. Y/N’s own parents looked mortified. 

Y/N L/N-Wayne was a flame that never wavered. It’s what made her successful at modeling, and a supermodel in her first two years. That flame is what had photographers, stylists, fashion designers, and make up artists still call her up, begging for her to come back. A force of nature that had only paused for Bruce and their children. 

“C’mon, Y/N. Even you can see the benefits of this.” The woman raised her brow at a younger Bruce, who was smiling at her. 

“Your life does not pause, and now with the Wayne name as yours, your options are endless.” 

“And what about you?” 

“This means I no longer have to play as a playboy in public and everyone will stop asking me to marry them or their daughters.” Y/N laughed, “Nah, you’ll still get them. They’ll just now be whispered behind closed doors.” 

Bruce smiled, “The standards of a regular marriage will still apply. Obviously not the sex part or anything, but everything else will. Think of it like living with roommates.

“This will work for the both of us, Y/N.” The woman smiled into the rim of her cup, red lips leaving an imprint on the glass. 

It took him five tries for her to finally agree. There might have been some manipulation on his side of things, but he got that ring on her finger, and 2 months later she was walking down the aisle in a wedding dress that was deemed ‘The Dress of the Century.’ She was beautiful, even more so than usual. 

Dick glanced at him, “So, what’s the plan?” Bruce sighed, “Just make sure she doesn’t get hurt.” 

++++

It took 4 months for Y/N to come back to the manor. Within those 4 months, one of them were always with her. Switching off when they hit a new city, and each one had tried their charm on having her come back to the mansion. Bruce was going crazy, therefore Batman was more brutal than usual, and that the meant the other birds had to pick up the slack when it came to emotions. Bruce had all but shut down every other part that wasn’t Batman. 

However, nothing returned to normal once she was back. Her and Bruce were rarely in each other’s presence, and she refused to see or do anything about Batman. Y/N was trying to remove herself from Bruce Wayne completely, and no one liked that. 

Bruce and Y/N may claim that they were never in love, and that they only married for convenience. However, Dick will always remember watching Bruce and Y/N dancing in the main hall of the manor. He was hanging onto the chandelier, not yet noticed by either, as a song began playing and they both began dancing. 

They had been dressed in casual clothes, which consisted of dark blue jeans and nice tops and shoes. Dick’s young eyes watched as the two of them swayed and twirled around each other, Y/N laughing at the whispered words Bruce would share, and the stern man relaxing for the duration of the time. 

They were far from the perfect couple. Their parenting styles were different, and it took a while for Y/N to warm up to Dick. She was never cold or malicious, but just like Dick and everyone else, she was lost. However, it was her awkward arms he sought after when he had a bad day, or when Bruce got on his nerves. It was her eyes he always seeked approval for. 

When she caught him hastily packing, dying to get away from the man that had his rules tighter than the Robin suit, she helped. Y/N had folded his clothes, snuck a bottle of Smirnoff and Titos into his luggage, because moving required at least two bottles of alcohol, and she hugged him goodbye. 

Every member of this family has a memory tied to Y/N. A gentle one. 

Damian had kind memories, where Y/N smiled at him for no reason. She did not expect perfection, and one time she stated how she wished Damian would fail sometimes. It was something that had him seething and jumping to defend himself, but Y/N laughed, “Failure is our best teacher, Damian. What better time to fail then when you knwo you have people willing to help you up?” 

Jason remembers peeking on Y/N when he was younger. Watching through the cracks of the door as she and Bruce swayed to music, laughed at old memories, or simply sat around each other and read a book. Sometimes, he’d catch her trying on her jewelry, or reorganizing her perfume. Every now and then she would go through her closet and donate clothes she no longer wanted or needed. 

He watched how Dick, would seek her out whenever he and Bruce argued. When Jason finally allowed himself to be wrapped in those arms– arms that always had Bruce looking ready to sacrifice everything, that had Dick relaxing, and Alfred smiling endearingly– and he can see why they did so. It's different from Bruce, because Bruce makes you feel protected. In Bruce’s arms, Jason knows that there is almost nothing that can harm him. 

In Y/N’s embrace, Jason feels at peace. There’s no need to worry about protection because he’s in a place that does not need it. When he dances with Y/N, to their song nonetheless, there is nothing that can ever disrupt the moment. Y/N stares at him with adoration, just how she does with Dick, only her attention is on him. Him! A street rat from Dowry, Crime Alley, and he has the attention of the woman that is Bruce’s equal in the highest social circles. 

Those soft E/C eyes, that always stared at them with warmth and love, stared back at him through the mirror. He and Tim, because Timmy loved her just as much as he did, watched as Y/N emptied another glass of the Rose, and how the exhaustion from all the shows, photoshoots, flashing cameras, and the ordeal with Bruce seeped into her bones. 

“Hey Ma, let's get some sleep.” Jason walked closer, carefully minding the scattered jewelry that looked more expensive than any of his weapons, and Tim, who was forever on the same wavelength as Jason, scampered over to the large bed and lit the diffuser. 

Y/N hummed, running her hands through her hair, before tilting her head back and looking at Jason once more, “You both shouldn’t be here. I can handle this myself.” Y/N never liked it when any of the kids saw her less than presentable. She was always dressed in nice clothes, with nice jewelry, and makeup even at the manor. It's one of the worries of being a model, she had told Dick, always scared that the nosey paparazzi will catch you at your worst and share it with an even crueler audience. 

Jason had once confided in her about Willis Todd, and how he hated it when she drank in front of him. Whether it was scotch or champagne. 

After that, Y/N always drank in her room. 

The thing is, that Jason knows Y/N wouldn’t ever hurt him. She’s not like Willis who purposefully seeked out to hurt someone smaller. Jason knows that no matter how mad she got at him, she wouldn’t do anything (unlike what she would do to Bruce).

This is why, despite all the trauma he has with alcohol and people being intoxicated, he can confidently move the bottle away and the glass. Noting how both were empty. 

Tim strolled over, and gave a small smile through the mirror, “I’ll brush your hair, Mom. Then you should sleep.” Y/N tried to wave him off, “Don’t bother. I can do it myself. You both should go.” She sluggishly reached out for the vintage decorated paddle brush, only for Tim to snatch it before she could. 

“I want to do it. Besides, if it bothers you, think of it as me returning the favor.” The confused look Y/N gave him had him smiling patiently as he stood behind her and gently began to brush the locks of hair. Y/N sighed, “This is embarrassing. My kids should not be taking care of me.” 

“I’m an adult.” 

“CEO of Wayne Enterprises as well. Taking care of you when you are in a low spot is the least I could do.” Lord knows how many times Y/N has cared for them at their lowest. When Tim believed that Bruce was stuck in the Time Stream, Y/N didn’t seem all that confident in it, but she still believed him and helped him narrow down locations. She kept the press busy while he went out and searched. 

He heard later that she refused to talk to Dick when she found out they wanted to put Tim in Arkham. She shook her head in disappointment when Dick told her that Damien is now Robin. Tim always thought Dick was a bit stupid on that part. Parading Damien, a child from another woman, around and in front of Y/N nonetheless. Yes, thankfully Y/N warmed up to Damien and vice versa (although for Damien it took longer),  but that could have gone bad in so many ways. 

“Still my kids.” Jason pulled a chair next to her, so they could all be in the view of the mirror, and in a rare show of affection that is only reserved for Alfred and Y/N, he rested his head on her shoulder as Tim continued to work the brush carefully through her hair. Y/N’s shoulders sagged and her back hunched a bit, and for the first time in a while, Y/N let herself look how she felt. Exhausted. Utterly and completely exhausted. 

Tim can see the dark circles under her red rimmed eyes, and the way her skin looked duller than usual. Granted, she finished a long gig, working tirelessly for months posing, getting dressed up, and traveling around the world to forget Bruce’s infidelity. 

‘Standards,’ she said in response to his excuse. Tim isn’t stupid to believe that neither Bruce or Y/N have feelings for the other. He’s seen it. It's in the way that Bruce concedes in arguments, or the flowers and necklaces he buys her when he’s apologetic, how the harsh glare that was directed at Tim when he first became Robin eased the moment Y/N pulled the boy close to her. Acting as a shield and sword for him. 

Her message was clear, and Bruce decided to read it. 

Y/N on the other hand lessened Bruce’s stress when he was CEO, the breaks from brooding to dance in the main hall to their song, or even acting as the sound of reason for him. She keeps him tethered to Earth, never letting his thoughts stray too far from reality. 

They may not be in love, but they still liked each other. Enough so that Bruce went along with her whims, just how she does with him. Enough so for Bruce to chase her across the world. Looking at it, perhaps Bruce was the one in love. 

“Jason, can you pass me the scrunchie?” He grabbed the silk scrunchie from large hands, and began braiding his mom’s hair. 

“You guys are being so silly,” Y/N huffed, and Jason beamed at her, giving her a boyish smile that he never shows anymore, “Anything for ya, Ma.” She subtly shook her head, a smile on her face as she looked back into the mirror. 

“Is this still about Bruce?” Tim kept his eyes on the braid, but from the tension in her shoulders, he hit the jackpot. Y/N brought her hand up to rub her forehead, “That idiot…” 

“Join the club, Ma.” Y/N took a deep breath, “He’s so stupid. It’s one thing to kiss another woman, which is fine. Do what you want to do, it’s not like we married for love.” A glare formed on her face, “But to get caught is another thing. Fucking idiot, he can only think with his hormones like a teenager. Even Dami isn’t like that, thank god.” 

Tim tied off the braid with the silk scrunchie, watching Y/N get heated again, “I hate him.” Except it was said with no bite, and the way Y/N’s lip wobbled had Tim hearing other words alongside the ones she mumbled. Jason leaned into her, offering her comfort while Tim watched from the reflection in the mirror.

Y/N to Tim was what Janet Drake had failed to be. He learned a lot from both of them, and it helped that both women were huge players in their social circles and socialites. They both taught him how to play with people’s perception of someone. Only Janet taught him to keep a straight face and not show emotion, while Y/N taught him that with a correct smile and a well placed chuckle, someone can be eating out of the palm of their hands. Both women approached the world with different weapons and tools, and both women used and taught them to him. 

Only Y/N also knew when it was time to put down the mask and become a reliable person for Tim, while Janet continued to only be Janet to Tim. 

He loves them both. Except, with Y/N he felt that if she were to ever leave him the way Janet did then he would have no choice but to follow and bring her back. Wherever Y/N goes, Tim will follow. 

“Boys.” Jason and Tim snapped their attention to the door, and Bruce was standing there, menacingly longingly. His face in an unusual expression, but one he’s worn a lot throughout the time Y/N was gone. An expression all the boys have gotten to know. Tim escaped, saying goodnight to both parental figures, before leaving for the cave. 

Jason pecked Y/N’s cheek, whispering good night and glaring at Bruce, “Don’t fuck this up old man.” To which Bruce sighed and nodded, closing the door after Jason. For the first time in months, it was just Y/N and Bruce. Alone with each other’s company and Bruce knows that if she could, she’d probably be strangling him right now. 

With great hesitancy, one that he could never show as Batman, he sat on the bed about a foot away from her. 

“I paused my life for you.” Y/N glared into blue eyes, “I paused almost everything, for you. For your mission. For the children you brought into our home, without asking me about it beforehand, may I remind you. I love them, and don’t you dare twist that, but I would have liked to have been consulted about it first.” Y/N didn’t want to be a mother. It was never in the cards for her, and yet here she is having more children than she had ever dreamt of. 

She loves them. She’d die and kill for them, but they were never in the cards of life she wanted dealt to her. 

“I paused so much, just for you to go and.. And… and do that.” Bruce winced at that, and Y/N felt happy that he did. Gritting her teeth, Y/N turned her attention to look at the fire. The heat of it reminds her of her own rage and the coldness she feels when in the presence of Bruce. 

Sighing heavily, she closed her eyes and bit back a groan, “And once I start getting my life started again, having fun, going on the runway and magazines, here you come storming back.” 

“You looked like you needed the break.” Y/N shook her head, “Did you know, that that is one of your worst habits. Always making yourself out to be the hero.” She took a glass of wine and watched the liquid swirl in the glass, “Of course, you let me have that moment. Of course you were thinking of me, and my happiness. How kind of you.” 

Bruce sighed, watching her sip the alcohol that left a red stain on her lips. He can remember the first time he saw her in red lipstick. Shockingly, it was in-person and the red made her skin look warm and teeth appear even whiter despite the knowledge that red lipstick can make your teeth look yellower. It was a beautiful shade, matched by her dress. 

She was beautiful. Breathtakingly so. Even as time progressed and she and he got older, Y/N remained beautiful. Defying the laws time and age as she remained ethereal. Unfairly so. 

Bruce had wanted to preserve that beauty, in the same way that many tried to preserve the flowers from the garden and the expensive smelling perfume. He wanted nothing more than for Y/N to continue smiling and for the fire to remain bright. 

To do that, he had to stay away. He could not allow himself to love her, because if he fell then he would drag her through the mud with him. Yet, here he is on the other side of that cold look, one that had him hesitating. That kiss with Selena was terrible timing all around. She had caught him in a moment of weakness, and someone just so happened to be there at the worst moment to catch it all. 

Staying away proved to be ineffective when here she is drinking wine with red-rimmed eyes and anger in her brows. 

“This marriage was never one for love, but there are standards. Ones we talked about beforehand.” 

“I know.” Y/N pursed her lips, tilting her head to the left and watching Bruce with distrustful eyes. The man sighed heavily and he sat in front of her, taking his own glass and pouring himself some wine. He didn’t like this type of wine, and from the very small scrunch in her nose Y/N didn’t like it either. 

The more he stared at her, taking in her still youthful features and eyes that burned bright, the more he could feel his emotions rising to the surface. Feelings and emotions he long tried to bury, but never quite succeeded. He had hoped that kissing Selena would just prove that he is only missing her as a sexual partner, and it only confirmed for him that he was in love with her. 

He is in love with Y/N L/N-Wayne. His kids are in love with Y/N. Alfred loves Y/N. The whole Wayne family, extended and all, are in love with this woman. This woman has nothing to do with their vigilantism, but instead reminds them that they are also normal and exist outside of masks and costume. That they are human and not shadows of the night. 

That they are the Wayne family. 

God, he loves her so much. So much. She is his weakness, his strength, his everything. The fancy cufflinks that are only brought out for special occasions, the expensive wine cracked open for celebrations, the pearl earring worn for the best performances. Y/N is the treasure of the Wayne family. 

Carefully, he wrapped an arm around her waist, slowly inching his way around her, testing the waters to see if she would shake him off or hiss at him. When there was no sign of that, he tightened his hold only slightly and pressed his forehead into her shoulder, gently laying a kiss on the joint, “Like I said, it was an accident. She caught me at a bad time, and I wasn’t expecting her to do that.” 

Y/N released a heavy sigh, and Bruce hugged her tighter, “I swear. It wasn’t consensual.” She rubbed her forehead, and Bruce watched how the lines slowly faded and melted back into her skin. Y/N never wore exhaustion well, which was why on mornings she had early photoshoots, she would sleep in her room instead of Bruce’s. She always woke up when he would stalk in and climb under the sheets with her. 

“Please, Y/N. Give me a chance. Let me take care of you the way you should be.” Y/N chuckled at that, “Careful Bruce, keep saying stuff like that and I might start to believe you have feelings for me.” Ice blue met E/C, and Y/N hesitated for a moment. Something chilling going down her spine, “I guess, I should start saying it more often then.” 

“Bruce…” He pecked her cheek, careful of the fire he was playing with, and carefully watching her reactions. His arms encircled her tighter, and he kissed her shoulder. Bruce watched, and observed how the tension slowly left her and reluctant acceptance came across her face. His arms tightened, and Bruce fought back a smile. 

“Ever the charmer,” She mumbled. Bruce huffed a laugh, and Y/N shook her head, “If I catch you with your mouth on anyone else’s but mine, I’m going to sick the kids on you.” An image of four rabid dogs, followed by a few more, filled his mind. Bruce grimaced as he remembered the tongue lashing he got from everyone, “Noted.” 

Y/N chuckled, and Bruce smiled, throwing his weight back on the pillows, bringing Y/N with him. His arms still tight around her waist, and a promise on his lips. 

‘I’ll never let you go again.’ 

________________________________________________

Not super Yandere, but it is getting there.

[menagerofmischief]

shrimp cocktail, cold appetizer, lobster, coca-cola, yes dessert, served by oscar piastri

Dia's Diner Menu

shrimp cocktail rivals to lovers cold appetizer rough sex lobster "I love watching my cum leak out of your pussy" coca-cola somnophillia dessert aftercare

Oscar Piastri x Ferrari!driver!reader

TW: one bed trope, unprotected sex (wrap you willy please), sleep dry humping

WC: 2k

A/N: I enjoyed writing this one a lot. Also I wanted to say I'm so thankful to all of you that sent requests and that I can't wait to write all of them but you'll maybe have to be patient with me because I'm a student and am pretty busy with school. I hope y'all are gonna enjoy this one.

Some bigger force, God or karma or fate or whatever else there is, was definitely out to get me. Because this had to be the worst fucking night of my life. I’m not being dramatic when I say that.

Why was this the worst night of my life?

We just made it to Singapore for the upcoming Grand Prix and went straight to our hotel. The whole grid was staying at the same place since it made things more convenient. I go up to the reception to check in and get the key to my room, all but ready to collapse into the mattress and sleep the jet lag off. 

“I’m so sorry Miss,” the receptionist says, tapping her fingers against the keyboard, glancing up at me every few seconds. Finally she looks up, her expression apologetic. “It seems there was a mistake with the booking and we double booked your room.”

I fight off the urge to groan and roll my eyes, instead plastering a smile on my face. “It’s fine, it’s not that big of a deal. Just put me in whatever room is available.”

She makes a face, looking down at the computer again and then returning her gaze to mine. “I really am sorry but there are no other rooms available right now.”

Now I really did groan. “Fantastic. Can I know who the other person occupying the room will be?”

Before the receptionist had the chance to answer, my worst nightmare in human form came up to the desk, standing right next to me. “Hello. I’m here to check in - it’s under Oscar Piastri.”

The woman - I finally glanced at her name tag, seeing her name was Alice - looked between us, then down at the computer before looking at us again. “Sir, as I was just explaining to the lady here, the hotel double booked your room by accident.”

“It’s fine just put me in a -”

“There’s no available rooms.” I cut him off. “Just the one.”

Oscar looked at me, narrowing his eyes. McLaren’s golden boy, affectionately nicknamed ‘the polite cat’ by the fans was the biggest thorn in my side for a long while now. Everything started back in F2 with our on track rivalry which grew with each race. Then I signed into F1, fulfilling my childhood dreams of racing in red and thought I escaped him. I thought too soon apparently because after my announcement post, his followed soon and I was once again back on track with him.

Did I have a reason to hate him? Absolutely! Was it awfully petty and possibly over-dramatic? Very likely. It was my first race in F2, I was about to finish P2 it was amazing. Then he crashed into me and drove us both into the wall, causing us both to DNF and lose out on a podium.

We have hated each other ever since.

“It’s okay - we’ll share.” Oscar’s voice brought me out of my thoughts, quickly turning my head to look at him.

“What!?”

Oscar took the key from Alice and dangled it in front of me, a smirk on his face. “I said we’re gonna be bunking.” He pulled the handle of his suitcase, “Come on then, Y/n”

✿ ✿ ✿

“You stay on your side of the room,” I said, putting the chair in the middle of the room to make it a half marker. “And I’ll stay on mine.” The one queen size bed would definitely be a problem as well, but one I would mention later.

“And how are you gonna go the bathroom since it’s on my side?” He asked, his voice holding a teasing tone.

“Bathroom if free ground, hallway too” I stated, crossing my arms over my chest.

Oscar’s gaze dropped down, stayed for a few seconds and then his eyes met mine again. He hummed, “And if I wanna open the window then what? Since it’s on your side.”

“Don’t act smart,” I told him. “It doesn’t suit you.”

“You wound me!” He gasped, pressing a hand over his heart.

“Shame it’s not fatal.”

✿ ✿ ✿

This was definitely the weirdest night of my life.

With only one bed in the room, no couch and neither of us willing to put our body in uncomfortable positions sleeping on the chair or on the floor, night before practice - Oscar and I made an agreement to share the bed.

One of the extra blankets from the closet was bunched up and put down the middle of the bed separating the two us. Not that it served much purpose considering that it was kicked down and off the bed while we were sleeping.

I woke up, rubbing my eyes to adjust to the dark and then I felt it. The slow, yet desperately feral rolls, the pressure and the pleasure. I had to press a hand against my mouth to stop myself from moaning, taking in deep harsh breaths through my nose.

I came to a realization about three things, so goes:

Oscar had moved a bigger part of his body onto my side of the bed.

He had pulled me close and caged me in his arms sometimes during the night.

He was grinding his very much hard cock into me -  in his sleep.

My cheeks were on fire and it felt like the rest of my body was too. The pajamas, which I purposely picked out because of how light they were, felt suffocating now.

I didn’t even realize what I was doing until it was done, my body moving on its own. One leg pushing slightly forward, opening just enough space for Oscar’s hips to chase mine and my ass slowly barely grinding back into him.

I was enjoying this much more than I should have and it was wrong. God, it was so wrong. But when his erection was rubbing so perfectly against me, I couldn’t bring myself to care.

I was wet, I knew I was. I could feel how soaked my panties had gotten and the uncomfortable feel of my slick underwear did not escape me. As the pressure increased I couldn’t help but let out a moan.

The noise felt deafening in the silent room and my eyes widened. Oscar’s body stilled and my breath caught in my throat, the dread of having woken him with my moans taking over me.

A moment passed, two moments passed. Then Oscar’s hands tightened around my body, pulling me even closer to him, my ass pressed just against the outline of his dick. One of his hands moved down my stomach, dipping into the waistband of my sleeping shorts and going straight down into my panties.

He ran a finger through my folds, coating it in my slick and it took everything in me not to moan. “You’re fucking dripping,” his voice in my ear made me freeze. Awake afterall. “This wet from me humping you? And here I thought you hated me.”

The pad of his finger touched my clit, a gasp falling from my lips at the pleasurable feeling. “Did you enjoy me rutting into you while I was sleeping, you dirty dirty girl?” He added more pressure, rubbing circles on my clit and this time I didn’t hold my moans back. “Woke up halfway through, when you started grinding your ass on me like a bitch in heat. You seemed so into it, I thought I’d just keep going.”

“Wasn’t,” I whispered.

“What was that?” He growled into my ear.

“Wasn’t grinding on you,” I said, through gritted teeth.

His fingers pinched my clit and my whole body surged forward, mouth falling open to let out a loud moan. “Don’t lie,” he said, the tone of his voice leaving no room for argument.

“Fuck you.”

“Oh don’t worry sweetheart, you will.”

Oscar pulled his fingers out of my panties, making me whine at the loss of friction on my clit. His chuckle vibrated through the room. He got up onto his knees on the bed, arms coming forward to grab my shoulders, and pulled me roughly so I was laying on my back.

I couldn’t help but look at him above me. His eyes were full of lust, pupils blown wide and cheeks red. As much as I didn’t want to admit it to myself, he looked absolutely ethereal. 

“Tell me to stop,” he said, fingers hooking into the waistband of my sleeping shorts.

I held his gaze, a shaky breath falling from my mouth. “Don’t stop.”

In one move he pulled down both my shorts and my panties, throwing them behind him without a care. Then he took off his own shorts, followed by his boxers - that ended up being thrown somewhere too. He pulled me up enough to take my top off, and then pushed me down again, leaving me completely bare. 

Oscar leaned over me, his mouth drawn in a smirk, his breath hot on my face. “Tell me not to kiss you.”

“Kiss me,” I whispered. He didn’t waste a second, as soon as the words were out of my mouth he was surging forward, his lips pressing harshly against mine, tongue pushing into my mouth. He pulled slightly back, my lip caught before his teeth and he gently bit down, making me whine into his mouth.

“Fuck me,” I panted into his mouth. “Please just -”

I didn’t get to finish what I was saying as he pushed himself into me fully in one go, making me scream. His hand pressed against my mouth, muffling the noises I was making. “Do you want to wake the whole hotel up?” He asked as he began thrusting, pulling himself out until only the tic was still in me and then forcefully pushing back in again. “Some people came here to sleep, not to listen to you moaning like a whore on my cock.”

His other hand went between us to rub my clit. I was practically sobbing as he worked his fingers in fast circles around my clit while roughly thrusting into me. My vision was blurred with tears that were spilling from the corners on my eyes.

Oscar’s hand moved only a little, leaving room for me to speak but close enough for my lips to brush against his palm with each word. “Cum,” I babbled. “Gonna cum! Oscar, please!”

“Yeah?” He asked, his voice hoarse. “Gonna cum for me like a good little slut? Go on then - cum”

I came with a moan, wrapping my legs around his waist and caging him in. Oscar fucked me trough my orgasm, his own following. He twitched inside of me before cumming, painting my walls and making me whine at how full I felt.

He pulled out of me slowly and went to the bathroom to clean himself up. After a moment he returned with a wet, probably warm, towel in his hands. He kneeled on the bed and gently spread my legs with his hands.

“Fuck,” Oscar groaned. “I love watching my cum leak out of your pussy.” His fingers dipped to collect some of his cum which had spilled out of me and was slowly dripping towards my ass, and pushed it back into me, causing me to gasp.

He leaned forward and placed a kiss on my forehead and somehow my cheeks burned ever hotter. After he gently cleaned me up and terrorized me to drink water, he laid down in bed next to me and pulled my body into his, arms wrapping around me.

“Are you finally going to let me take you out to dinner?” He asked, his voice husky and breath hot against the side of my face.

I hummed, my eyes barely open and already feeling sleepy. “Don’t crash into me while I’m winning on Sunday and we’ll see.”

“That was one time!”

I chuckled, placing my hands over his hand on my stomach. “Yeah, I’ll let you take me out to dinner.”

Believe it or not this might have actually turned out to be one of the best nights of my life.

[shrimpybbq]

season 1 rafe with his gf & son

i have to be sooo truthful here in that rafe is like 90% the actual worst during the events of season 1 to high school gf!

he's still doing drugs and going to parties, never coming home until the early morning if at all

maybe he was on better terms with his gf for a while, but everyone on the island knows that the pair are always on-and-off

when they are good, rafe is surprisingly sweet to her. he's always opening doors and looking after their son so she can rest. rafe is so much more physically affectionate too during these times, with his hands always on her, stroking her hip or playing with her hair

and then when they fight, it's like all that goes away and he's back to ignoring her

she lives in the main house now as that's where their son's nursery is, but most of the time she's sleeping in the guest room after they argue

rafe's idea of family bonding is going to the country club, drinking his expensive whiskey and eating overpriced food. he likes seeing his son look around wide-eyed at the new sights and new people, and he enjoys having his son sit in his lap while he drinks, mumbling nonsense to see his little smile

he tries to take his son out golfing once only to realise that he couldn't be away from his mother for so long, much to his annoyance. it's fine though bc he's insisting they all go together next time - problem solved in his mind

rafe and high school gf! go to midsummer's together as each others dates. rafe wouldn't have let her go with anyone else anyway, but he likes the display of having her on his arm. he matches his suit to the floral design of her gown to make the statement even clearer (they have a child together and he's worried about people knowing she's his???)

he manages to hide a lot of the events that go on from his gf, but some of them still reach her ears courtesy of sarah, and he can't stand the disappointed look she gives him. sometimes though, he makes her sit down and listen to his explanation, trying to get her to see his side. he's so relieved when she nods and no longer looks at him in that way (but she still doesn't tell him he was right, he always notes)

when barry burns rafe, he's knocking on the door of the guest room with tears in his eyes, clutching his badly burnt arm to his chest. gf just looks at him wide-eyed, telling him to sit on her bed while she grabs the first aid kit. rafe can't help but let the tears stream down his face as she cleans, his head coming to rest on her shoulder as he sobs. that night is the first time he sleeps with her in the guest room, his head nuzzled into her chest as she cradles him

ok but if barry ever threatens his girl and kid rafe won't let it go. he's landing a punch on the drug dealer's face immediately, his rage spiking instantaneously. barry learns not to threaten them again after the second time he wore purple bruises on his chin

oh, sweet pretty gf has no idea what rafe has done to the sheriff, and he plans to keep it that way. he wanted to protect his dad, but he absolutely refuses to let anything happen to his own family. she's so shocked when he tells her of john b's actions, the boy having lived down the hall from them, and rafe plays into the role of protector again. he's got her in his arms as she cries about how he was around their son, and rafe just hums and tells her "i would never let someone hurt either of you, you know that right?". it warms his heart to see her nod into his chest.

sometimes his gf walks into the nursery only to see her son not in his crib, but she knows exactly where he is. pushing open rafe's door she sees the two of them in bed, her sweet baby cuddled up on rafe's bare chest as they both sleep. he needs to be with his son when he has a bad day, which seems to be more often than not nowadays

rafe is rapidly growing more mentally unwell and the only thing that seems to soothe him is his gf and son, and he spends as much time as he can with them. the little baby is always in his arms as he coos down at him, watching his kid's eyes brighten at the sight of his dada. rafe reasons with himself that everything he does is to protect his family and that he couldn't be wrong then, could he?

Oh this was a bit of a novel, but rafe truly has so many facets to explore, let alone once you give him a big motivator like a kid!

*i think i'm going to expand on high school gf! looking after rafe and his burn bc its such a vulnerable moment for him

[lulujeno]

crush culture — lee jeno ᡣ𐭩

summary : liking jeno was a mistake. kissing him didn't make it any better.

warnings : mentions of alcohol/drinking, kissing, cusswords, angst!! (this does not portray how the idols are irl, all the things here are written to match the song crush culture by conan gray!!)

wc : 6.3k

a/n : reader uses she/her pronouns !! jerk!jeno and bestfriend!mark :D thank u for 100+ followers ~~ cant believe i managed to pull out more than 5k words out of my ass >< my finals are currently happening so that's why i've been ia for soooo long :( i promise when i'm done i'll be clearing out both my drafts and requests ^^

Seeing your best friend, Belle, flirt with Jeno on your couch hit harder than you ever expected. The way they leaned into each other, laughter spilling from their lips like a sweet melody, made your stomach churn in a way that felt foreign and unwelcome. You had no right to feel this way, not when you knew about her crush on him. You had even agreed to be her wingman tonight, setting up this moment so she could finally have her chance. But somehow, along the way, you fell for him too, your heart weaving itself into a tapestry of unspoken feelings and bitter regret.

You should feel happy for her, after all her efforts to catch his attention, but the tight knot in your chest made it impossible to be anything but miserable. “It’s fine. Be happy. It’s your birthday, after all,” you whispered under your breath, trying to convince yourself. The words felt heavy, lacking the enthusiasm they were meant to carry. You exhaled a shaky breath before heading to the kitchen, desperate to escape the sight of them together.

The kitchen was warm, filled with the faint scent of alcohol and fruity punch hanging in the air like an unwelcoming fog. Mark stood by the counter, effortlessly mixing drinks with an ease that told you he’d done this a hundred times before. He glanced up as you entered, and a flicker of concern passed over his face when he caught sight of your downcast expression. He flicked his eyes toward the living room, and you knew he had noticed. Most of your friends knew about your crush on Jeno. It wasn’t something you talked about much, but the way your eyes lingered on him said enough.

“You okay?” Mark asked, his voice low, but the concern was clear, filling the space between you like a fragile glass.

You could only shrug, unsure of how to explain the whirlpool of emotions churning within your chest. It felt too complicated to articulate.

Without a word, he whipped up a drink, something colourful and sweet, and handed it to you. The condensation from the glass cooled your palm, but it did little to soothe the fire raging inside. The drink looked vibrant, but you could already tell it was just a disguise for the hollowness you felt.

“She’s kind of a bitch for doing that in front of you,” Mark muttered, glancing back at the couch, his fingers absentmindedly wiping down the counter. His words hung in the air like a lifebuoy tossed your way, and for a moment, it felt like they were offering you a chance to vent, to express all the things you were holding back. But you shook your head, pushing the thoughts down.

“Not really,” you sighed, taking a sip of the drink. The sweetness coated your tongue, but it tasted like nothing, a mere distraction. “I’m the bitch here. Liking the same guy as my best friend, after she tells me she likes him, that kind of thing breaks girl code.”

Mark furrowed his eyebrows, his confusion evident. “Girl code? Really?” He scoffed softly, shaking his head. “Come on, Belle falls for every guy who looks her way. Everyone knows that. Besides, you actually have a better shot, Jeno knows you, trusts you. You should go for it.”

You nearly choked on your drink, laughter bubbling up despite your mood. “Yeah, and get a reputation for stealing my friends’ crushes? No thanks, Mark. I’ll pass.” You handed him the empty glass, watching as he refilled it, his movements swift and practiced. The glint of the alcohol under the dim kitchen lights reflected how your emotions felt; messy and swirling, a whirlpool threatening to pull you under.

Mark sighed, exasperated. “It’s your party. Don’t let them get in your head. Go have some fun.” He handed you the new drink with a smile, but before you could take another sip, he added, “And don’t drink too much. You can’t handle it, and we both know it.”

But after two glasses, fun was the last thing you felt. The sight of Jeno and Belle still played in your mind, a vivid loop that made the alcohol churn uncomfortably in your stomach. You tried to find Belle in the crowded room, but she was nowhere to be seen. After asking around and realising Jeno wasn’t there either, the pit in your stomach grew deeper. You knew what that probably meant.

You found yourself wandering back to the kitchen, your mind foggy but determined to drown out the ache with another drink. Mark raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised to see you again. When you asked for yet another glass, he sighed deeply, a mixture of concern and frustration in his expression.

“This is your last one,” he warned, handing you the drink reluctantly. “You can’t handle much. I don’t want to have to carry you out of your own party.”

But Mark’s warning felt like a distant echo in your ears. By the time you were begging for a fourth drink, all caution had slipped away, and you couldn’t care less about the consequences. The music in the living room was thumping, laughter echoing like a cruel reminder of your current situation, and all you could feel was the weight of everything you couldn’t have — Jeno, your peace, the ability to not care.

“I already told you, no more drinks. You’re cut off,” Mark said, frustration clear in his voice. “I’ll get you some water instead.”

As he turned to open the fridge, you took your chance. The cold metal of a beer can brushed against your fingertips as you snatched it from the counter. You were so focused on your mission to drown out the pain that you didn’t notice Mark turning back toward you.

“y/n,” he snapped, his tone stern, “let go of the can. You’re going to regret this.”

You raised the can to your lips, but Mark was quicker. His hand reached out to grab it from you, and in the struggle, the can slipped from your grasp. The beer splashed everywhere — over your shirt, dripping down your arms, and pooling on the floor. The cold liquid seeped through your clothes, clinging to your skin, making you gasp at the sudden chill. Mark groaned, grabbing a napkin from the counter as you stood there, drenched, with a look of defiance still written across your face.

Undeterred, you tried to tilt the can toward your mouth, desperate to drink whatever was left inside, despite the mess. “Come on, y/n, you’re making this harder than it needs to be,” Mark sighed, exasperation laced in his tone as he managed to pry the can away for good this time.

The alcohol-soaked shirt clung to your body, the sticky sensation uncomfortable, but you were too far gone to care. The frustration bubbling inside wasn’t going to be soothed by just a drink anymore. You were angry, angry at Belle, at Jeno, at the fact that you had let yourself feel anything at all.

Before you could make another move, a strong hand wrapped around your wrist, prying you away from the counter. You froze, looking up into the familiar dark eyes you’d been avoiding all night — Jeno.

The world felt like it stopped as Jeno glanced from you to Mark, his brows furrowed in mild concern. “Help me out here, Jen. She’s had too much already, and she won’t listen to me,” Mark said, his voice weary but relieved that someone else could take over.

Jeno’s gaze softened as he looked down at your soaked shirt, a mixture of amusement and concern crossing his face. He let out a small sigh, his grip gentle but firm as he took the can from your hand and replaced it with a bottle of water. “You’re done with the drinks for tonight, okay?” he said softly, his voice holding the same care you’d heard earlier.

Before you could protest, Jeno wrapped his arm around you, guiding you out of the kitchen, away from the noise and the eyes of your curious friends. The walk to your room was a blur, but the warmth of his hand on your waist kept you grounded, even as the alcohol swirled in your system.

The sight of Belle sobbing into someone’s shoulder as you passed through the hallway barely registered in your hazy mind. You were too focused on the warmth of Jeno’s presence beside you, the way his touch lingered longer than necessary, as if he was anchoring you.

Once in your room, Jeno gently guided you to sit on the edge of your bed, his touch careful as if he was afraid you might fall over. His eyes roamed over your beer-soaked clothes, a soft chuckle escaping him. “You’re a mess,” he teased, though his voice held no judgment. If anything, it was laced with concern, the kind of worry that felt warm and comforting instead of scolding.

You glanced down at yourself, wincing as you finally took in the state of your shirt. The beer stains were obvious now, dark patches clinging to the fabric and sticking to your skin in an uncomfortable way. You grimaced, the sticky sensation making you feel even more self-conscious. The alcohol had dulled the sharpness of your embarrassment, but not entirely. A faint blush crept up your cheeks as you mumbled, “I should change…”

You attempted to push yourself off the bed, but your limbs were heavy, sluggish from the alcohol coursing through your system. Your balance wavered, and you nearly stumbled forward before Jeno’s hand gently pressed on your shoulder, keeping you steady.

Without saying a word, he crossed the room to your closet, rummaging through the clothes until he found one of your oversized t-shirts. He walked back to you with that same quiet focus, kneeling down to your level, holding the clean shirt in his hands. His gaze met yours for a moment, and something in his expression made your heart skip a beat.

“Here,” Jeno said softly, his voice just above a whisper. “Let me help.”

Your breath caught in your throat as his fingers reached for the hem of your beer-stained shirt. He moved slowly, giving you plenty of time to object, to stop him. But you didn’t. You couldn’t. The closeness of him, the way his eyes held nothing but tenderness. It was like the rest of the world had disappeared, leaving just the two of you in this charged, intimate bubble.

Jeno’s hands were careful as he lifted the fabric, peeling it away from your sticky skin with a precision that made your pulse quicken. The cool air hit you, contrasting the warmth of his touch. Every time his fingers brushed your arms, it sent shivers through you. It wasn’t overtly intimate, but the care he took in making sure you were comfortable made the moment feel far more meaningful than it should have.

Once your shirt was off, he handed you the fresh one, his eyes deliberately focused anywhere but your body, giving you the privacy to finish. You quickly pulled the oversized shirt over your head, feeling the soft cotton fabric glide down. Your cheeks burned, not from the alcohol, but from the way Jeno’s thoughtfulness had disarmed you, leaving your heart racing in its wake.

When you were finally settled in your clean shirt, Jeno took a step back, his hands awkwardly fumbling at his sides, unsure of what to do next. “Better?” he asked, his voice quiet but sincere.

You nodded, not trusting your voice. The warmth pooling in your chest wasn’t just from the remnants of alcohol, but from the way Jeno had cared for you, so gentle and attentive. The kindness in his actions made your emotions swirl even more intensely.

For a moment, neither of you spoke, the air between you heavy with something unspoken. The room felt smaller with Jeno in it, the atmosphere charged with a new kind of tension. It wasn’t uncomfortable though. If anything, it felt safe. Like he was there to make sure you were okay, to take care of you, in a way that made your heart feel lighter despite the whirlwind of the night.

Jeno’s eyes flicked from the bed to you, a soft concern still lacing his gaze. “You should get some rest. It’s been a long night.”

You climbed under the covers, feeling the exhaustion settling into your bones now that the noise of the party was long behind you. As you laid down, Jeno lingered by your side for a moment, his hand briefly brushing your shoulder before he moved to sit at your desk. His presence filled the room, grounding you in a way you hadn’t expected.

“Jeno?” your voice came out as a soft murmur, barely loud enough to reach him, but he turned to you right away.

“Yeah?”

You hesitated for a moment before whispering, “Thanks… for everything.”

A small smile pulled at the corner of his lips, the soft light in your room making his features look even kinder than usual. “Get some sleep, y/n. I’ll be here if you need anything.”

You closed your eyes for a brief second, trying to process what was happening. Jeno was in your room. The Jeno. The one who was always surrounded by friends, admired by so many. The same Jeno your best friend had been talking about for months, and the one you, slowly but surely, had found yourself falling for.

The alcohol still buzzed in your veins, loosening your inhibitions just enough to make you bolder than usual. This was your chance, maybe Mark had been right all along. Jeno was here, with you, taking care of you in ways that felt like more than just friendly concern. Maybe, just maybe, you weren’t imagining the way he stayed close tonight, the way his eyes lingered a little longer.

It was now or never.

The air in the room felt heavy, thick with unspoken words and lingering tension. Jeno sat at your desk, his steady gaze unreadable as you shifted under the covers, a mix of nervousness and warmth blooming in your chest. The alcohol had numbed your inhibitions, but the electricity between you both was impossible to ignore.

You pulled the blanket tighter around yourself, trying to ground yourself in the fabric, though it did little to help. “It’s cold,” you mumbled, barely audible, your voice betraying the hint of vulnerability you didn’t want to show. In truth, the room was a bit chilly, but more than anything, you longed for his presence next to you. The space between you felt far too wide, like an unspoken barrier you didn’t know how to cross without risking everything.

Jeno’s eyes flickered toward you, his hesitation lingering in the silence that stretched between you. After a beat, he stood up from the desk, his movements slow and deliberate, as if carefully weighing each step. Your breath hitched as he approached, and your heart pounded in your chest, anticipation curling in your stomach.

Wordlessly, Jeno slid under the covers beside you, his warmth instantly chasing away the cold. His scent, a comforting mix of cologne and something undeniably him, wrapped around you, making your head spin. Instinctively, you leaned into him, your head finding its place against his chest. His arm moved naturally around you, pulling you closer, and you melted into the embrace, feeling his heartbeat against your cheek.

With Jeno’s warmth cocooning you, the outside world felt like a distant dream. The party’s once-loud music had faded into a faint murmur, barely audible over the sound of his steady breathing. Every now and then, his breath grazed your hair, sending tiny shivers down your spine. You stayed perfectly still, afraid that even the slightest movement would break this fragile moment, this perfect stillness.

“Is it still cold?” Jeno’s voice was low, a gentle murmur that seemed to sink into your very bones.

A small smile tugged at your lips, and you pressed yourself closer to him, allowing the exhaustion of the night to wash over you. “Not anymore,” you whispered, your voice barely a breath. His arm tightened around you in response, as if silently saying that he wasn’t going anywhere. That, even just for tonight, you had him.

The soft light from the bedside lamp cast a warm glow over the room, its dim shadows creating a cozy, intimate space that felt removed from reality. The world beyond your bedroom door seemed to slow, leaving only the two of you in this quiet bubble, suspended in time. You found yourself wishing that you could capture this feeling forever, keep this warmth and peace bottled up in your heart.

Jeno’s hand rested on your waist, his fingers moving in slow, absentminded circles over the fabric of your shirt. His touch was so gentle, so careful, that it sent little sparks dancing across your skin. It wasn’t just the alcohol making you dizzy; it was the tenderness in every brush of his fingers, the way he held you like you were something delicate.

“You’re always running around, taking care of everyone,” he murmured softly, his words carrying a weight that tugged at your heart. “Who takes care of you, y/n?”

His question hung in the air, the raw sincerity in his voice cutting through you. A lump formed in your throat, and you blinked rapidly to keep the sudden tears at bay. You hadn’t expected him to say something like that. Who did take care of you? For as long as you could remember, you were the one who held everything together, the one who put everyone else’s needs before your own. But in this moment, with Jeno’s arms wrapped around you, it felt like someone was finally seeing past all of that—seeing you.

“I… I don’t know,” you whispered, your voice trembling as you admitted the truth aloud. “I guess I’m just used to it.”

Jeno shifted beside you, his body pressing closer, his breath now warm against your ear. “You deserve more than that,” he said softly, his voice low and earnest, each word landing like a promise. “You deserve someone who’ll take care of you, too.”

Tears pricked at your eyes, and you swallowed hard, trying to hold back the surge of emotions threatening to overwhelm you. His words felt too good, too perfect, and a part of you was afraid to believe them. Afraid to believe that someone like Jeno could really see you like that, could want to take care of you.

Still, in this moment, wrapped in his warmth, you allowed yourself to pretend — to imagine, if only for tonight, that this could be your reality. That Jeno could be yours.

His thumb traced another slow circle on your side, his touch so gentle it was almost hypnotic. “I don’t want you to forget tonight,” he whispered, his voice even quieter now, like he was sharing a secret meant just for you.

You turned in his arms, your breath catching in your throat as your eyes locked with his. There was something in his gaze, something soft and unspoken, that made your heart race. His face was inches from yours, his breath warm on your skin, and for a brief moment, time seemed to stop altogether.

You swallowed, the words escaping you before you could think twice. “What if I do?”

For a moment, Jeno’s expression darkened, his gaze flicking down to your lips before meeting your eyes again. Then, in a movement so gentle it felt like a dream, he leaned in, brushing his lips against yours in a soft, lingering kiss. The contact sent a shiver through you, your whole body reacting to the warmth of his touch.

“Then I’ll remind you,” he murmured against your lips, his voice barely above a whisper.

The night blurred into a series of quiet moments. Soft touches, shared whispers, and a closeness that felt too tender, too fragile to belong to the real world. You could have stayed in that moment forever, tangled in Jeno’s warmth, pretending that the world outside didn’t exist.

But, as always, reality had a way of creeping back in.

Jeno’s phone buzzed on the desk beside him, the soft vibrations shattering the stillness. He sighed, his arm loosening from around you as he reached for the phone, the glow of the screen illuminating his face. You watched as his brows furrowed, his expression tense as he scrolled through the dozens of missed calls and messages.

“Shit,” he muttered, sitting up, his warmth slipping away from you entirely.

The cold rushed in immediately, filling the space where Jeno had been, and your heart sank. You knew what was coming next.

“What’s wrong?” you asked, already knowing the answer but dreading hearing it aloud.

Jeno ran a hand through his hair, frustration evident in the set of his jaw. “The guys… They’ve been calling me nonstop. I told them I’d leave with them, they’re my only ride home.” His voice was tinged with regret, but beneath it, you could sense the guilt.

You forced a smile, trying to mask the disappointment that was tightening in your chest. “It’s fine,” you lied, propping yourself up on your elbow. “You should go.”

Jeno glanced down at his phone again, then back at you, his jaw tightening as he hesitated. “I don’t want to leave you alone,” he said quietly, his voice thick with the conflict swirling inside him.

You shook your head, the ache in your chest growing. “I’ll be okay,” you whispered, your words feeling hollow. “Really. Go.”

For a fleeting moment, you held onto the hope that Jeno might stay. The way he looked at you, his eyes searching your face with an intensity that made your heart race, felt like a promise unspoken. But then the phone buzzed again, shattering the delicate moment. You watched as his resolve shifted, the warmth in his gaze giving way to a distant sadness.

With a heavy sigh, he rose from the bed, the fabric of the moment tearing slightly as he slipped his phone into his pocket. The air around you felt colder, thick with unspoken words and lingering emotions, as if the very room held its breath. Just before he reached the door, he hesitated, turning back to you one last time. His eyes softened as they met yours, and he stepped back toward the bed, leaning down to press a tender kiss to your lips. It was soft and lingering, yet it carried the weight of finality.

“I’ll see you on Monday,” he whispered, his breath brushing against your skin, leaving a warmth that contrasted the chill that enveloped you after he left.

And then, he was gone.

The weekend stretched endlessly, an expanse of silence that felt like an aching void where his presence had been. No calls. No texts. Just the stark absence of his warmth and the echo of the night you had shared. With each passing hour, the memory of Jeno’s embrace faded, leaving you alone with your swirling thoughts and an unsettling sense of regret.

You spent the next two days trapped in a loop of memories, replaying every moment over and over. The way he looked at you with such intensity, the way he held you close, the sincerity in his voice when he told you that you deserved better. You ached to reach out to him, to check if he still remembered the fleeting magic of that night. But every time you reached for your phone, a wave of fear stopped you cold. The thought of his response, what he might say or, worse, what he might not say, paralyzed you.

By the time Monday rolled around, you had convinced yourself that maybe it was better this way. Pretending nothing had happened would be the safest path. After all, he would slip back into his life with friends, back to the way things were before, and you would have to bear the weight of your choices alone.

As you stepped through the school doors, you immediately felt the weight of stares bearing down on you. Whispers trailed you down the hall like a shadow, and you quickly pieced together the rumors that had spread like wildfire. Word had gotten out about you and Jeno, and Belle had undoubtedly heard every detail.

It wasn’t long before she found you. Standing by your locker, arms crossed and eyes narrowed, her glare twisted your stomach into knots.

“I can’t believe you, Y/N,” Belle hissed, her voice sharp and full of venom. “You promised me you’d be there for me. You said you’d help me with Jeno, and instead, you—” She cut herself off, her voice trembling with barely contained fury.

You swallowed hard, guilt and shame coiling tightly in your chest. “Belle, I—”

“No,” she interrupted, her eyes flashing with hurt. “Don’t. Don’t act like you didn’t know. Everyone’s talking about how you left the party together. You think I didn’t see the way he looks at you?”

Your heart plummeted, a heavy weight in your stomach. You longed to explain, to articulate that it hadn’t been what it looked like, that you hadn’t intended for any of it to happen. But deep down, you knew the truth: you had crossed a line, and no amount of explanation would erase the breach of trust.

“I didn’t mean for this to happen,” you whispered, your voice barely above a breath.

“It’s not fair. I was so close to having him, Y/N. I was right there, and then you had to ruin it for me.” Belle’s eyes glistened with unshed tears, but her expression hardened like ice. “You’re a liar. You promised to help,” she spat coldly, turning away from you. “You’re no better than the rest of them. Maybe you should’ve tried harder not to ruin everything.”

And just like that, she walked away, leaving you with the sharp sting of her betrayal echoing in the silence behind her.

You stood there, frozen, as the world around you faded into a blurry haze of whispers and judgmental stares. The hallway stretched out longer than usual, each step feeling like an uphill battle against the suffocating air thick with unspoken words. You could almost see the rumours swirling like storm clouds, brewing around you as classmates shot knowing glances. Some gleeful, others disdainful, while they whispered behind your back, oblivious to the truth.

You made it through the day by shrinking into yourself, avoiding everyone as if they were fragments of glass waiting to cut you. Each laugh from a group nearby felt like a mockery, reminding you of how the moments you shared with Jeno now felt like scattered shards, impossible to clean up without inflicting wounds on your heart. Every time you caught a glimpse of him in the halls, your chest tightened as his eyes flicked toward you for just a fleeting second before looking away, as if that one shared night had evaporated into thin air. Maybe it had for him.

The days following that night passed under a strange, silent agreement between you and Jeno. Neither of you acknowledged what had happened. No messages. No lingering glances. No awkward conversations. It was as if you had both silently decided that pretending it hadn’t meant anything was the easiest way to cope. But you couldn't shake the feeling that, to him, it truly hadn’t.

At school, Jeno slipped seamlessly back into the rhythm of his life, surrounded by his friends, laughter pouring from their mouths as if nothing had changed. He blended effortlessly into the crowd of popular kids, exuding an air of confidence that was painfully absent in you. Later, you overheard snippets of their conversations, casual, dismissive remarks. “She’s not worth it, man. You could do way better,” Haechan chuckled, as if your very existence was a punchline. Jeno merely shrugged, his indifference cutting deeper than any blade. “It was nothing.”

The words pierced through your carefully constructed defences, more painful than you could have anticipated. They shouldn’t have stung; after all, you had spent the entire weekend convincing yourself that you didn’t care, that it was just a fleeting moment. But those three words echoed in your mind, a relentless mantra: It was nothing.

Still, you played your part. Whenever you passed him in the halls or found yourself near his group during lunch, you donned a mask of indifference so convincingly that you almost started to believe it yourself. You laughed with your other friends, pretended to focus in class, and convinced yourself that forgetting was the best option. You were adept at pretending, had to be, but that night continued to linger, haunting you like a bittersweet melody you couldn't silence.

The only person who seemed to peel back your façade was Mark. You never spoke about that night directly, but he could read between the lines. He noticed the way your gaze avoided Jeno, how your laughter felt forced, and how your smile no longer reached your eyes.

One afternoon, when the weight of everything felt too heavy to bear, you found yourself gravitating toward Mark. He sat on the grass at the edge of the soccer field, scribbling furiously in his notebook. You dropped down beside him, the warmth of the sun contrasting with the cold ache in your chest. He looked up, brow raised, but he didn’t say anything right away, giving you space to breathe.

“I don’t know what I’m doing anymore,” you finally admitted, staring into the distance as the horizon blurred with your emotions.

Mark closed his notebook, shifting his full attention to you. “Want to talk about it?”

You shook your head, frustration bubbling inside you. “Not really. Just… everything’s a mess.”

He didn’t press you, but his unwavering gaze bore into you, his concern palpable. “You don’t have to pretend with me. I can tell you’re not okay.”

The tightness in your chest intensified at his words, and you forced a laugh that felt hollow. “It’s not a big deal. I barely even remember that night, anyway.”

Mark didn’t buy it. He never did. “You don’t have to lie to me. But if you don’t want to talk about it, that’s okay too.”

The silence stretched between you, filled with all the unsaid things that hung heavy in the air. You stared at the ground, fighting the emotions that threatened to spill over.

“Jeno didn’t say anything, did he?” you asked, the question slipping out before you could hold it back.

Mark sighed, leaning back on his hands. “He’s pretending it never happened, too. His friends… Well, they’re being assholes, like always. Told him he could do better. You know how they are.”

You nodded, the weight of disappointment sinking deeper into your bones. Of course they would say that. Of course Jeno would follow their lead. It was easier to dismiss the connection you had shared, to act like you hadn’t been wrapped up in each other, sharing warmth and vulnerability in a way that felt almost sacred.

Sensing your shift in mood, Mark nudged your shoulder lightly, offering a small smile. “Look, I’m not gonna pretend to understand what’s going on in Jeno’s head. But you deserve better than this, better than being some secret he feels like he has to hide.”

His words wrapped around you like a comforting blanket, yet they only amplified the ache in your heart. You wished it didn’t hurt so much, wished you could just move on like Jeno seemed to. But the truth was, that night had meant something to you. Even if you shouldn’t have felt that way, even if you tried to convince yourself otherwise, it did.

It wasn’t just the gossip or the whispers that hurt; it was the entire situation. The reality that you had gotten swept up in something so fleeting, yet so consuming. You felt like you were living on a stage, where every move was scrutinised, turned into something larger than life. Belle, Jeno, his friends; they were all part of that act, and now, so were you. You thought back to the party, to the fragile intimacy you had shared with Jeno, the way you had intertwined your lives for a moment. But the harsh reality was that it hadn’t been real. Not for him.

When you got home, you collapsed onto your bed, staring up at the ceiling, its familiar texture suddenly feeling foreign and oppressive. The quiet of your room suffocated you, amplifying the echoes of whispers and judgment that had followed you all day. It should have been a relief to escape the chaos, but instead, it was a stark reminder of how alone you felt. Gone were the masks and the laughter; all that remained was the haunting silence, thick with unspoken words and unresolved feelings.

Your phone buzzed, and for a fleeting moment, hope flickered inside you. Maybe it was Jeno, maybe he finally had something to say, something that could bridge the chasm that had formed between you two. But as you glanced down, the screen illuminated a message from Mark instead.

Mark: How you holding up?

You stared at the words, the glow of the screen casting a pale light over your uncertainty. Mark had always been the one to see beyond your carefully constructed façade, the only person who didn’t press for answers you weren’t ready to give. His concern was palpable even through the digital barrier, but the weight of your own feelings made it hard to respond.

You: I don’t know.

The reply felt painfully inadequate, a thin veil over the storm churning inside you. You tossed your phone aside, pulling your knees up to your chest, as if trying to protect your heart from the world outside. What did you even want at this point? Jeno wasn’t coming back to fix things, and Belle was probably rehearsing her next round of accusations. You felt caught in a strange, uncomfortable limbo, yearning to forget while being unable to erase the vivid memories of that night.

In the days that followed, you had tried to convince yourself the night with Jeno was nothing more than a fleeting mistake, a moment spurred by alcohol and the warmth of the moment. But now, as the realization washed over you, it became painfully clear: you had wanted it to mean something more. You craved the way he looked at you that night—not with the haze of drunken affection, but with something deeper, something that could fill the void you felt inside.

But he didn’t. He never would.

You remained motionless on your bed, eyes fixed on the ceiling, feeling the silence stretch around you like a shroud. Your phone buzzed again, probably Mark checking in, but you couldn’t muster the energy to respond. The weight of your decisions pressed heavily on your chest, reminding you of the loss that had settled in your heart.

You had lost your best friend, sacrificed your bond with Belle for something ephemeral, and now, you were left to pick up the pieces alone. And maybe that was what hurt the most. The realization that in the end, none of it had felt real. Not the intimate moments shared with Jeno, not the friendship you had thought you could count on with Belle. Everything felt built on a shaky foundation, fragile and destined to crumble.

As you lay there, you reached for your phone, hoping to drown out the noise in your head with music. You scrolled through your playlist, searching for anything that could take you away from this moment. And then it started, the familiar notes of Crush Culture by Conan Gray filled the room, wrapping around you like a bittersweet embrace.

With each lyric, you felt a rush of recognition that hit you like a truck. Crush culture makes me wanna spill my guts out. The words resonated deeply, echoing the tumult of emotions swirling inside you. It was as if Conan had taken the scattered pieces of your heart and crafted them into a song, pulling at the very strings of your soul.

The lines about fleeting moments, unreciprocated feelings, and the pain of wanting something that was never truly yours surged through you. You closed your eyes, allowing the music to wash over you, each note igniting memories of that night with Jeno. The way he held you, the laughter you shared, the promises whispered in the dark. But with each line, the weight of reality crashed down harder, reminding you of the distance that had grown between you since then.

Tears prickled at the corners of your eyes, the catharsis almost overwhelming as the song played on. You could feel every word burrowing into your heart, every melody capturing the longing you tried to hide. This wasn’t just about Jeno; it was about everything you had lost, everything you had poured into moments that turned out to be nothing but illusions.

And in that moment, you felt a fragile clarity. You might be lost now, but you wouldn’t stay that way forever. The lyrics continued to echo around you, each syllable a promise that you would find a way through the pain, that you could reclaim your voice, your heart, and maybe, just maybe, discover what it meant to feel whole again.

As the song faded into silence, you lay back against your pillows, allowing the tears to flow freely. It was time to face the truth, to embrace the chaos of your emotions, and to start piecing together a new beginning. And with that thought, you closed your eyes, a flicker of hope igniting within you. A hope that lingered long after the last notes faded away.