#Bulls Eye Lyrics

[10969mfs-sinro]

I can't comprehend

The noise in my head

This nightmare will never end

(FIRST IMPACT)

The look in your eyes

The fire burns alive

A new hope will rise

(LAST TRIGGER)

Save me

[reyenii]

since edwin is very closed off, except for when he’s with his best friend, charles, costume designer kelli dunsmore reflected his buttoned-up mentality through his bespoke suit, complete with bowtie and collar. edwin’s outfit, along with charles’ period garb, were designed to help them stand out more in modern day port townsend. “i knew edwin would, because no one dresses like that now,” says dunsmore.

dunsmore wanted everything about charles to feel “a little bit cool and underground,” from his union jack and the who bull’s-eye patches to his checkerboard pins. his little cross earring and chain on the outside of his shirt are also meant to be homages to the ’80s.

in the show, crystal’s hero color is purple, which you’ll notice in her velvet coat and long silk letterman jacket, which dunsmore thought of as a psychic cloak with hand-embroidered patches, including the wilting rose of england.

her brown trench coat represents an explosion of everything going on in her mind. dunsmore decided the scribbled words and drawings are a result of crystal writing all over it to express her inner turmoil. there are even lyrics on there from the song she’s listening to on the tube when she meets the dead boys.

david’s connection with crystal seeps into her wardrobe, too. since david wears a flower shirt, dunsmore’s team hand-painted flowers onto crystal’s black boots. and niko is wearing a dark sweater with flowers on it when we first meet her, as an homage to crystal. the costume department also drew the same rune pattern the dead boys use to exorcise david in episode 1 onto crystal’s trench coat and on the tab of her wool bomber jacket. “so she’s always got some sort of protection,” says dunmore.

every color niko wears is inspired by what’s happening in that episode, from the green post-sprite exodus to blue when she’s feeling sad. niko only wears a white look, with nods to her japanese heritage, in the finale as a reset. the charms on her obi belt represent the colors she’s worn all season.

night nurse is someone who’s in control all the time and likes things to be in their proper place. dunsmore looked to vivienne westwood for inspiration, since everything in night nurse’s world is a bit exaggerated. (by the way, niko’s orange monochromatic look is a nod to her scenes with night nurse and night nurse’s red hair.)

since david is a demon, he finds a london boy that looks cool enough for crystal to find attractive. that meant dunsmore dressing him in a shearling jacket you’d find in “all the guy ritchie movies,” black pants and creeper shoes. the costumer’s mood board for “david the d” featured radiohead and amy winehouse and her husband blake, who often wore hats similar to the one you see david wearing in the show.

pay close attention to monty’s leather jacket and you just might spot an inlaid crow feather or two.

it’s not only esther who wears clothes with a gilt, old-gold color — cat king and night nurse also do as a nod to their villainy. (esther and cat king also have similar fur coats.) amidst her beauty, dunsmore wanted esther to be a little rough around the edges. she wears a cuff around her hand that’s adorned with a snake and a ring with teeth all around it to represent the teeth she’s collecting from all the little girls. her eye necklace is meant to be her witch pendant.

mischievous as ever, cat king has (cat) eyes everywhere and is aware of edwin’s affection for charles. so he wears charles’ socks the first time he meets edwin.

[aphrogeneias]

mad sounds

pairing: rockstar!eddie munson x fem!reader

warnings: smut (+18), floor sex, 69, dirty talk, eddie refers to himself once as "daddy" but no daddy kink, sappy ending.

The low light of the recording studio makes him glisten, catching on the thin sheen of sweat covering his tattooed chest, on the silver gleam of the ring on his nipple as he lays on the rug on the floor. His dark eyes are closed, reddened lips stuttering praises for your ears only.

Eddie wanted to show you a song, after the producer was satisfied with the day’s work and everyone was sent home to rest. You stayed behind, and he got more than just the pleasure of showing you his new lyric.

Your hands rested on his thighs while you took him in your mouth, breathing through your nose and savoring the taste of him. The tip of his cock hits the back of your throat as you hollow your cheeks, letting your tongue do the rest of the work.

He whimpers as you come back up, using your hand to stroke him and sucking on his leaking head, working

“Baby… Baby, please.” When you look up at him, he's looking right back at you, brown eyes turned black. Bull-eyed, his hair a dark crown of ivy around his head, your liberator. The altar on which you place your worship. “Just like that.”

Your mouth descends on him again, eager to please him. A hand that was dutifully placed on his side raises to grab your hair, guiding your mouth gently up and down his length, lazily fucking his hips up into you.

Your nails claw on the skin of his thighs as you let him your mouth, tears pooling in your eyes. He's whispering sweet nothings you can't really understand, blood pumping in your ears, focused on giving him what he wants, what he needs.

Eddie is speaking more loudly now, his voice clearer. “Come up here, honey. Please? Please, I need you. Need to taste you. Need that drooly pussy in my mouth, hm? Bring that cute little cunt to me, gotta have ‘er.”

He pulls you by the hair, off of his cock. You moan at the sensation, chest heaving with your labored breathing. You gather yourself for a second, wiping a little mixture of precum and spit from the corner of your mouth, and you can't help but smirk. “If you insist.”

You make quick work of your panties, feeling the sticky pool of wetness cling to your folds before you slide the lace down your thighs and off of your legs in a short moment, keeping your skirt on.

“C'mon, c’mere. Let me have you. Let me give it to you good, baby.”

His voice is raspy, deep and full of want. You can't deny him when he sounds like that — not that you ever do.

“So impatient.” You tease, but you turn around and maneuver yourself to straddle his face, one leg at a time. He hums deep in chest at the sight of you, right above his face.

“That’s it. Come to daddy.”

Strong, calloused hands grab the soft meat of your thighs to keep you in place, and as you lower yourself to take him in your mouth again, Eddie eagerly latches his lips on your pussy, using his tongue to kiss it as if he would your mouth.

You're biting back a moan as you lick him from his base to the tip, flattening your tongue and tasting him before wrapping your lips around him again. You work together in tandem, as he guides your hips to grind over his tongue, alternating between this and sucking on your clit, you take him fully, unable to moan as you choke on his cock.

Where there once was music, not the only sounds that echo through these walls are the wet sounds of your sex, and the muffled moans that vibrate through your skin. You feel him in every inch of your body, skin to skin, his skillful tongue and full lips bringing you to ecstasy, the delicious weight of him in your mouth.

It's overwhelming, when it washes over you. You hold him in your hand, pumping him slowly, almost missing your rhythm when you come, Eddie holding your spasming hips in place, drinking the honey that drips from your hole, clenching around nothing.

You keep working him through your orgasm, and it takes just a little more to bring him to the edge. You wish you could see him now, his head thrown back and his pale chest rising and falling rapidly, whimpering while you suck him as he comes, swallowing every drop he has to give you.

The two of you lay there as you come down from your highs, you head resting on his hip where you can see the lines tattooed there. He gives your ass a weak slap, and you giggle weakly as he watches it jiggle, rough hands massaging you right afterwards.

Rolling off of him, you don't waste too much energy crawling upwards, and cuddling to his side. The rug is a little rough on your heated, sensitive skin, but Eddie is warm and inviting beneath you, and his arms come around you the moment you settle in.

“Thank you.” You coo at him, eyes filled with affection. A small kiss to his nose is a token of your gratitude, and he knows you're not thanking him for the head spinning orgasm he just gave you.

“I'm the one who should be thanking you.” The rasp in his voice is not gone, and neither is the lovelorn look in his pupil-blown eyes.

“You know what I'm talking about. It's not everyday a girl gets a song written in her honor.”

All he does is smile, the lines on his face and his dimples capturing your whole attention. “Yeah, well… it's not everyday a guy like me gets a muse like you.”

[twice-inamillion]

Momo in the Studio

Smut (dirty talk, sex, penetration, creampie, sex crazy momo)

Chapter 216

1,570 Words

(OC and Momo spend some time in the studio. They work together on some lyrics but gets messy in the end. 😏)

After arriving in Korea, you have spent most of your time in the studio. The members use their time at the company for dance practice or to work on lyrics for songs they want to submit for the next album.

Momo is one of those who is excited to show you some lyrics she wrote for a potential song.

“Amazing work, Momo. How did you come up with this?”

“Really? It’s good?”

“Yeah, it gives a different vibe.”

“Thanks! Hmm… I went around and asked unnie for help.”

“Nayeon and Jeongyeon?”

“I can’t say, but they gave me some pointers.”

“Thank them because I can see this as a potential song.”

The two of you spent a couple of hours in the studio trying out some potential beats. Momo became interested in the process and stuck to you like glue. “So if you change this, it gives a different vibe to the song? It’s supposed to be a love and hate type of song, but it’s also kind of hot,” as Momo presses her breast to your arm.

“I think we can emphasize more on these words” as you mention the words “Love, I love you, love you, hate, foolish.”

“Yes, like you love someone and hate them too, seems like a hot way to have sex.”

“You must be sex crazy.”

Momo looks at you with lustful eyes, “It’s because I’ve only used my fingers and toys. You haven’t been filling me up as of lately.”

“You know how busy we’ve been. The wedding and the tour.”

She pushes your chair and gets on top of you, “Still, you could have given me a good fucking. Don’t think Jihyo would mind.” You know that she’s teasing you, and it’s working.

She notices you staring at her chest, “Wanna see my tits, Oppa?” Momo doesn’t wait for an answer and takes off her shirt, revealing her beautiful breasts held by a thin bra. She slowly undoes her bra and tosses it onto the nearby chair.

With her large nipple in front of you, it doesn’t take much for you to shove your face to her breast. You attach yourself to her nipple and suckle. Momo moans loudly and says, “Oppa, there’s no milk; I’m not Jihyo.”

You don’t respond and keep on focusing on her breast and move to the other. You place her nub between your teeth and give a slight bite. Momo cries from her nipple getting bitten and digs her nails into your arm.

After detaching yourself, Momo unbuttons your shirt and tosses it to the floor. She gets off of the chair, starts to undo the remainder of her clothes, and moves to remove your pants.

When she removes your boxers, your cock springs out hard. Momo looks at you with hunger in her eyes and says, “fuck, I missed your cock so much.” She gives it a few pumps and gets back on your lap.

You see Momo grab your cock and aligns it to her entrance. You ask, “No foreplay?” Momo looks at your crazed eyes, “No, I just want your cock in me, now,” and lowers herself to take in your head. She moans to the tip of your cock inside her, “Ooh, that feels so good, and it’s just the tip.” She lets the remaining of her weight go, and her cunt swallows your whole length.

“Fuck! You’re stretching me wide open!” Momo arches her back from the sudden pain of your massive cock invading her hungry womb.

She doesn’t hesitate to bounce on your cock aggressively. Momo grunts and moans loudly to your thick cock, spreading her walls wide open. “I hate you; you make me such a bad girl. You make me feel like I’m high.”

You notice her spouting out some of the lyrics of her songs as she rides you like a bull and you decide to tease her a bit. “Why do you hate me?”

Momo, with her hands fondling her massive breasts, yells, “I hate how Jihyo has you wrapped around her little fingers. She shouldn’t have you all for herself; she needs to share with the rest of us!”

She continues to ride your cock as you enjoy the show. Her perfect breast bounces right in front of you, “fuck, Momo. I love your breasts; I just want to milk them dry.”

“Only way you’ll get that is if you breed me,” giving you a smirk.

“You would want that, huh.”

“Yes! I enjoy the feeling of hot cum inside my womb.”

“I want to see you become a complete mess,” place your hands on her butt and stand up. With her arms wrapped around your neck, she holds on for dear life. You begin to fuck her in a stand-and-carry position as you walk to lock the door of the studio. You walk back and press the “recording in session” button to ensure that no one bothers the both of you.

“Make sure you fill me up real good, okay.”

You stand in the middle of the studio and fucking her mercilessly. Momo lets her full voice out as she grunts and moans loudly. “Just like that! Fuck me with your big, fat cock. Mess up that slutty pussy of mine.”

You give her a heavy slap on her ass and increase the pace of your thrusting. She digs her nails deep into your back, “Ahh… you’re going to make me addicted to your cock. Don’t stop, please.”

“Tell me where you like my cock.”

“Ahh… in my cunt.”

“Where?”

“I said in my cunt!

“I can’t hear you.”

“I said, I like it when you fuck me in my tight little cunt with that big fat cock of yours!”

“See it’s not so hard.”

You decide to change up the pace and let her do all the work. Momo uses her strength to bounce on your cock as she avoids falling. “Oppa, don’t let me do all the work; I’m about to fall.”

“You’re doing a good job, Momo. Just keep going, okay?” as you kiss her on the lips. She’s surprised from the sudden kiss and giggles, “Okay, but make sure you give me a reward after for doing all the work.”

Momo continues to bounce on you for what feels like an hour. As time goes by, her rhythm goes slowly, and her breathing becomes heavier. “Oppa, I can’t hold on anymore. My arms are about to give up.” She presses her head onto your chest and is entirely out of energy. You lift her up, pull out and reinsert your cock and do some slow but hard thrusts.

“In or out?”

She lifts her head and shyly whispers, “In.”

You walk towards the couch across the studio and slowly place on the sofa into a mating press. Standing in front of Momo, you get on your knees and tease her with your cock by tracing your head against her lips. With your cock in hand, you slap it on her cunt before inserting it back inside. You hold her legs up to her head and thrust yourself deep inside.

“Oh fuck!! Fuck… fuck… you’re too rough. You’re going to mess me up.”

“You told me to mess you up, so here it is. Take it like a good girl.”

Momo bites her lip as she feels the tip of your cock reaching the deepest part of her womb. She doesn’t resist and whines, “Cum inside me already; I want to feel it in my…”. You don’t let her finish her sentence as you pull out and slam yourself once more. Her eyes widen as she pulls her womb gets pumped with a large amount of thick hot cum.

“Hmm….fuck! Keep pouring that hot baby batter inside my slutty cunt!”

You watch as her belly grows bigger by the amount of cum you’re pouring inside of her. “You’re taking it like a good girl, Momo,” as you watch her satisfied face. You give her one last thrust before pulling out.

“Woah, you look so hot,” as you watch Momo’s creampie. “I really did a number on you,” as she lays on the couch with her legs spread wide open. You see a thick trail of cum oozing out and dripping onto the sofa and on the floor, creating a small puddle.

You walk to Momo and ask, “Hold a peace sign. I want to take a picture.” Momo holds a peace sign with both hands, sticks her tongue out, and rolls her eyes back.

“Haha, you really know how to turn on a guy, huh.”

Momo laughs at your comment, “I wouldn’t know. You’re the only guy I’ve been with.” You can’t help but smile and thank Jihyo for allowing you to play with her “sisters.”

You stare at Momo’s delicious body and see a slight bulge in her tummy. You give her belly a hard press and see a large amount of cum gush out of Momo’s used cunt.

With her two fingers, she traces her folds and collects as much cum as it can hold. She puts it in her mouth and says, “Tastes so good, it’s sweet,” as she licks her fingers clean.

[nikkento-writes]

Toro! Toro!

We're waking up the people down the hall, you're a bull and I can't help but say, "Toro! Toro!"

Pairing: Aoi Todo x f!reader

Rating: Explicit - MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Word Count: ~3.3k

cw: canon universe, popstar!reader (stage name Luna Lux), all characters are 18+, explicit language, explicit sexual content, smut – cunnilingus, blow job, vaginal fingering, nipple play, spit play, PIV sex – doggy, cowgirl, pet names, dirty talk, multiple orgasms, creampie

Summary: Breaking news! International up-and-coming pop princess Luna Lux is causing quite the stir with her alleged boyfriend! Witnesses say the two were having loud sex well into the night until hotel staff had to take matters into their own hands. But who is this mystery fellow? Despite multiple accounts of being heard doing the deed behind closed doors, the pop star’s supposed boy toy continues to elude being seen by both the media and even her own manager! With his knack for disappearing into thin air, it sounds like this stud is a real sorcerer!

Author's Note: Completely and unabashedly based on the song “Toro” by Remi Wolf. This SCREAMS Aoi Todo to me. This was so much fun to write! I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it! Divider credit to the wonderful @/cafekitsune.

It’s past midnight by the time you and your manager make it back to your hotel room, exhausted from tonight’s rehearsals. With only a protein bar and a few handfuls of popcorn as your dinner, you’re desperate for a proper meal before calling it a day. “Can we please, please order room service?” you beg her, collapsing onto the bed, too tired to change out of your sweaty clothes. “I’m starving and I won’t be able to sleep unless I get some real food in me.”

Kina doesn’t respond, the room phone already up to her ear, ordering the usual. When she hangs up, she snaps at you to get up, crinkling her nose. “You stink.”

“Aw, thanks K. Always the sweetest,” you grin at her, rolling on your stomach to rest your chin on your hands, kicking your feet back and forth in the air. 

She rolls her eyes, feigning annoyance as she retrieves one of the bath robes in the closet for you, laying it on the nearest armchair. “After we eat, you should shower then go straight to bed. You need all your rest for tomorrow’s show.” 

Manager K is right; it’s the last show and probably the most important. After tomorrow, you can officially say you’ve completed your first tour. It hasn’t been an easy journey; years and years of practicing your craft at malls, local fairs, small stages in front of people who had no clue nor cared who you were. You’re finally here with your best friend slash manager right alongside with you. Not only that, you’ve amassed quite the following of fans who cherish you, so much that they’ve made your debut tour a massive success. You appreciate every single one of them. 

However, there is one that you are particularly fond of, and his name is Aoi Todo. 

Todo’s been to almost every show since the start of the tour, with the exception to a few he absolutely couldn’t attend due to work obligations. He’s been to all of your meet-and-greets and is the current president of your fan club online. Most of his wardrobe is merchandise with your face on it, always proudly wearing it like a badge of honor. He even keeps a locket with your picture in it, next to a photo of his brother, Yuji, which you surprisingly find very endearing. 

It just so happens that he’s also your boyfriend. Your very hot, massively ripped boyfriend. 

You met a little over two years ago, when you were opening for your good friend Nobuko Takada, famously known in Japan as Tall-Idol Takada-Chan. At the time, Todo was her biggest fan, so much so that he considered her his future wife. Somehow, someway, he found his new obsession in you. You’d normally tend to avoid fans like this, but Todo is different. He’s the exception. You find his presence comforting. Even when you mess up the lyrics to a song, experience bouts of stage fright, miss a step in your choreography, Todo always gazes at you with the brightest stars in his eyes, as if you’re the most talented, beautiful person he’s ever seen. He loves you with every fiber of his being, whether you’re on stage as Luna Lux the popstar or offstage as you. And you love him right back. 

That being said, his prowess in the bedroom is an added bonus. He knows all the ways to help you relax after an especially grueling day of practice and rehearsals. Just like tonight. 

You’ve become notorious now for sneaking your boyfriend into your room when you’ve been explicitly told not to, specifically by Kina. It’s not that she dislikes him; in fact, she hasn’t even met him yet. You and Todo decided from the start that your relationship would remain a secret to protect his identity. Being a highly ranked Jujutsu Sorcerer already comes with its own risks and adding an extra spotlight on him will only cause more stress. Besides, it’s quite fun seeing how far you can push against the boundaries until you’re actually caught.  

On the other hand, Manager K doesn’t find it fun at all. Her expression is somber, voice stern when she states your real name, talking to you directly and not to your pop persona Luna Lux. That’s when you know she means business. “Do not meet with your boyfriend tonight. Understand?”

You knew this was going to come up. Playing dumb, you respond, “What boyfriend?”

One of her eyes twitch, clearly fed up with your antics. “I’m serious.”

She stares you down until you give in, flipping over on your back and groaning. “Why not?!” you whine, purposefully being an annoying little shit. “You know I perform way better after a good fuck.”

Kina makes a face, disgusted by your vulgarity. “Gross. Seriously, though. There are reporters all over this hotel, on this very floor even. They would have a field day with this.”

“Yeah. If we’re caught,” you add. “Which won’t happen.”

She crosses her arms over her chest, smirking. “You do realize how close you’ve been, right? The two of you have been getting more and more reckless. It’s bound to happen soon.”

You raise a brow at her. “Sounds like you’re hoping for it.”

She eases up, sitting at the edge of the bed beside you. “I’m getting real tired of running around and doing damage control for you two horny freaks. And I’ll admit, I’m curious. What’s so great about this guy that you can’t reveal his identity, even to me?”

You sit up, smiling at her. “Kina, as much as I want to tell you about how amazing he is, I just can’t. Not yet at least. I want to protect him from this craziness for as long as possible. You just have to trust me for now, okay?”

Kina has your best interest at heart, you know that. She wants to make sure that this guy is really worth it, is not some crazed fan only interested in Luna Lux and not the real person behind the popstar. At the same time, she can’t force you to give up his anonymity. She knows better than anybody how insane the other fans will get once he becomes known. So, she has no other choice but to relent. “Fine. But please, for the love of god, can you just keep it in your pants until tomorrow night, after the show is over?”

You give her a sly grin, wrapping your arms around her in a big hug. “Whatever you say, Manager K.” She’s totally unaware that you’ve got both your fingers crossed. 

After the two of you scarf down a late dinner, Kina bids you goodnight, warning you once more not to do anything reckless, though you have no intentions of following through with that plan. As soon as she disappears down the hallway into her own room, you lock the door and send out a text to Todo:

The hawk has left the nest.

Setting down your phone on the nightstand, you strip completely out of your sweaty clothes, leaving you stark naked, except for the locket around your neck. You feel it, tracing the edges before unclasping, laying it neatly on the bed. Leaving the robe Kina laid out for you on the armchair, you head straight for the bathroom, door ajar, running the shower on hot. 

Even with the loud splash of the shower, you hear the faint Boogie Woogie clap from outside the bathroom, the exact one you’ve been looking forward to all week. Smiling to yourself, you continue to lather soap onto your body, letting the water stream down to rinse off the suds. The creak of the door grabs your attention and through the shower’s glass, you see Todo walk in, wrapped in the robe that barely fits him. When he catches your eye, he smirks and the butterflies in your belly flutter. “Hey there, handsome,” you greet him, your pussy already throbbing with arousal.

“Hi, gorgeous.” He steps towards the shower, stopping to admire you, wet and dripping. 

You open the door for him, giving him a better view. “You look good in my hotel robe.”

“Yeah?” He’s practically drooling over your naked form.

Beckoning him in, you reply, “Yeah. But you’d look even better without it.”

He chuckles, slipping out of it, completely naked underneath. You move to one side of the shower, making just enough room for him. Water splashes off his massive chest, down his bulging biceps, dripping off his huge cock sprung hard against his six-pack. God, how you love having this himbo as your boyfriend. He watches silently you as you rub him with the bar of soap, lathering him up, a good reason to get your hands all over him. “How’s my baby doing tonight?” you ask him, spreading the suds across his shoulders.

“Fine. A bit tired from work. Missed you like hell.” His eyes follow your fingers as you graze his nipples. He holds you by the hips, pulling you closer. “How was rehearsals?”

“Exhausting.” You set the bar of soap aside, smiling as your hands travel farther, past his navel. “Luckily, I have a super sexy boyfriend to help me relax.” 

You surround his cock, slick and slippery with suds on the shaft. He shudders from your touch, grip tightening on your hips. “Fuck,” he mutters, looking down between you, resting his forehead on yours. “I’m the lucky one. So fucking lucky.”

You tip your head up to meet his lips for a kiss, cupping his balls and stroking his cock. He moans into your mouth, his fingers squeezing at your ass, spreading your cheeks apart. You turn around, teasing his cock between your butt, craning your neck to keep kissing him while he rubs at your clit, water still drizzling over the two of you. So clean and yet so dirty all at once. 

He makes you come with his fingers, tapping and massaging your sensitive bud until you’re gushing for him. “You want my cock now, baby?” he asks, mouth hot on your ear, his erection throbbing against you. His other hand plays with your nipples, pinching them with the precise amount of pressure to have you mewling.

As much as you’d love to get fucked in the shower, there’s simply no room for that with Todo’s massive body taking up nearly the entire space. It’s better for the two of you to move this onto the bed. You face him, shutting the shower off, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Let’s do it on the bed. More room for us to get nasty.”

He grins, lifting you up and hoisting you over his shoulder easily. “Got it, boss.” 

You giggle, punching his back playfully as he wipes you with a towel. “You’re a brute, you know that?”

When it’s dry, he slaps your ass, staring at it in the mirror as it jiggles from the contact. “You love it.” And he’s right, you do.

He carries you all the way to the bed, tossing you onto the mattress. As soon as you’re spread out for him, he positions himself between your thighs, eating you out sloppily, slipping two fingers in your wet cunt. “Fuck!” you whine, already sensitive from your first orgasm. He doesn’t relent, pumping his digits in and out of you while he flicks his tongue on your swollen bud, sending you into your second climax of the night, body in total bliss now, still greedy for more. “Fuck me, Aoi. Please,” you beg him. “Need your cock.”

“Not yet,” he muffles, sucking hard on your clit, causing you to cry out louder in pleasure. “One more for me, baby. I know you can do it.” He adds a third finger inside you, bucking his hips into the bed, desperate for any type of friction against his rock-hard cock. The sound of his fingers squelching with each pump is obscene. He hums into your skin, the vibrations adding to the sensation, encouraging you to give him another, which you do. 

You’re practically a puddle in the sheets now, your entire body slack, ecstasy coursing through you. He can do whatever he wants to you. You’d yield to his every desire, so fucked-out and intoxicated for him. Legs spread even wider, you reach for your pussy, spreading your cum on your clit. “More,” you whimper, touching yourself. 

“You’re extra greedy today,” he teases, pulling out of you to suck on his cum-coated fingers. He hawks a frothy wad of spit on your cunt, watching you rub it into your clit.

“It’s been a long day, I deserve it.” You stare at his cock, the tip leaking with precum now. “Can I get a taste, too?”

He obliges enthusiastically, moving up the bed to straddle your face, your favorite way to take his cock. You lick your lips, using your free hand to stroke him, taking his balls in your mouth first. “Fuck,” he curses, gripping onto the headboard. 

You smile, enjoying the way he’s unraveling above you. After a little more teasing, you guide the tip into your mouth, sucking on it. He swears again, his eyes shut, the sensation too much for him. You eventually make your way down the rest of his cock, taking him deeper until you’re to the hilt. 

“God, you’re so fucking sexy drooling all over my cock like that.” He slowly fucks your mouth, your lips smacked to the base of his dick with each thrust, swallowing him all the way down to the back of your throat. Your eyes water as you resist the gag reflex, too eager to satisfy him like this. When you reach your limit, he pulls out of you, panting softly as you guzzle all the saliva pooling in your mouth. Once you catch your breath, you give him a smile, pressing a gentle kiss to the tip. 

“You are such a dirty fucking girl,” he growls, crawling back down to peppers soft kisses along your body. “Sucking my cock while you touch yourself. What a naughty slut you are.” He pauses at your pussy once again, spreading his tongue on your clit for one more taste. You grab onto his hair, not bothering to contain the moans pouring out of your mouth. 

“Flip over,” he mumbles, eyes hazy with lust and desire. You can tell by the tremble in his voice that’s he’s trying his best to control himself from going absolutely feral on you, which makes you want to bring it out of him even more. 

You obey his command, yelping when drags you to the end of the bed, legs hanging off the edge, feet planted on the soft carpet. His thumb teases your slit, soaked and slippery from all of the previous orgasms. Carefully, he guides himself inside you, gradually making his way until he’s all in. “Fuck,” he purrs, staying still until you’ve fully adjusted to his size. “You feel so fucking good, sweetheart.”

It's like electricity all over your body to finally have him inside you like this, to be so full of him. You twist your neck to get a glimpse of him and when he meets your gaze, he grins. “Tell me what you want, baby.”

You smile back at him, clenching the sheets to brace yourself for the ride. “Fuck me hard.” 

Unlike before, he’s rough now, pounding into you like his fucking life depends on it. “Oh god, right there! Right there, fuck!” you encourage him, not bothering to cover your mouth. You’re sure by now the neighbors can hear, but you don’t care. All you care about is Todo and his cock pummeling into you. 

Once you come in this position, he slows the pace, increasing the severity of each thrust, fucking you so hard that the bedframe slams against the wall every time he plummets into you. “You love taking it like this, don’t you?”

“Yes!” you cry out, choking on your own spit as it dribbles out your mouth. You hear your phone start ringing on the nightstand; you ignore it, too lost in euphoria to give a damn.

Before you know it, Todo changes positions again, laying himself out on the bed. “Ride me, sweetie. Ride this fucking cock. Fuck me too.”

Desperate to be full of him again, you hop on top of him, teasing your pussy along his shaft before sinking down. He grips your hips firmly, rocking you back and forth on his lap until you’re able to muster the strength to ride him. You swallow thickly, finally able to speak coherently. “You should change your name from Todo to Toro,” you joke, grinding yourself against him.

“Huh? Like fatty tuna?” he asks, sweat dripping off his forehead, his expression genuinely confused.

“Toro is a bull in Spanish,” you explain, grinning at him, gyrating your hips for a deeper angle. “And you, big boy, are most definitely a toro with the way you’re pounding into me.”

He laughs, tightening his grip, wanting to regain control. “It’s fine, you can call me that if you want.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

You lean down to kiss him as he wraps his arms around you, planting his feet on the bed to fuck up into you. The phone keeps ringing beside you, and even through your incessant cries of “Toro! Toro!”, you can hear the buzz of excited chatter on the other side of the door. It’s the reporters Kina warned you about, getting another juicy story for the tabloids.

Todo continues to fuck you like this, his own moans louder now as he approaches his orgasm. The room phone starts to chime too, the staff trying to get a hold of you after noise complaints, something you’ve gotten used to since being with your incredibly sexy and voracious boyfriend. Still, no matter how hard they try to catch you in the act, they never will. And that’s what makes this so much fun. 

When he comes, you kiss him sloppily, clenching around his cock to keep his load inside you. You hear a familiar voice amidst the chaos on the other side of the door. Manager K shouts, “Luna Lux! Open the door. Now!”

Todo looks spent below you, in complete bliss, unfazed by the ratchet going on outside. “I should probably leave, huh?”

“I guess you should,” you pout, nuzzling your nose to his. “I miss you already.” 

“I miss you too. I’ll see you again in a few minutes,” he reassures you, caressing your cheek tenderly. “When the coast is clear.”

There’s pounding on the door, upper management getting involved to give you a stern talking to. “You better hurry back.” You lean closer, grazing his ear with your lips. “I want you to fuck more of your cum inside me.” 

He sucks in a breath, squeezing your ass cheeks with his big hands. “Fuck, baby. I promise I won’t make you wait long. Keep it in until then, okay?”

You kiss each other passionately one last time before he claps behind your back. Like magic, he’s gone, the shiny locket replacing him on the bed. 

The door opens, getting caught on the chain, your manager yelling your name through the tiny crack. “I know he’s in there! There’s no escape! I finally caught you two!”

You put on the locket then quickly slide into a robe, checking your reflection briskly in the mirror. Not that there’s anything that can reverse the damage done at this point. Reluctantly, you go to the door to unlock the chain. Kina barges in, staving off all the reporters and staff from bombarding you with questions. She searches the room for Todo, checking each nook and cranny for any sign of him, but no luck. Finally, she faces you, expression awe-struck. “Where is…how did he…?”

“I told you.” You flash her an innocent smile, crossing your legs and fiddling with the locket around your neck, fondly thinking about Todo who’s just two floors below you. “You just have to trust me.”

[a-roguish-gambit]

I don’t think I got across how smitten Morph was when they first saw Logan at the 1904 World’s fair so here ya go. It was….instantaneous. The poor nonbinary didn’t stand a chance the minute they saw him, riding a bucking and roaring bull like it was nothing at all, a steely focus in his eyes. Its like the essence of the wild old west and the raw fury of nature was captured and tempered into a single man, and it was the most beautiful thing kevin had ever seen.

Lyrics from “meet me at st louis” 1904

[helluvaoutlaw]

Gimme Shelter

((( Warning: The song Striker is singing in this post contains sensitive content. )))

Under the dim, smoky lights of the Sugar Buzzed club, Striker stood on the small, worn stage, gripping his electric guitar. Usually filled with vibrant neon hues, the club had dimmed its lights tonight to recreate a Wrathian country blues atmosphere. The crowd, a mix of regulars and curious newcomers, buzzed with anticipation. Striker's outfit was a blend of vintage charm and rugged style:

Brown trousers, black suspenders, an old mauve-colored shirt with its sleeves rolled up, and a black vest that completed the ensemble. He was enjoying a cigar while arranging his guitar and giving time to the other musicians to prepare themselves.

The two Hellhound vocalists (recommended by Queen Bee herself), were more than excited to perform with him, given the two girls were giggling and whispering to each other, probably commenting his physique.

He adjusted the microphone stand, its metal frame barely reflecting the subdued glow. The club’s atmosphere was thick with the scent of spilled drinks and the low hum of conversation.

He drew one last smoke from the cigar, before putting it out in a metal ashtray.

The cowboy nodded at the rest of the group, before starting to play.

Striker's fingers danced across the guitar strings, coaxing out a raw, soulful riff that immediately quieted the crowd.

"Ooooh, a storm is threat'ning

Myyy very life today

If I don't get some shelter,

Ooh yeah, I'm gonna fade away...

Waaar, children,

it's just a shot away

It's just a shot away

Waaar, children, it's just a shot away

It's just a shot away."

His voice, deep and gritty, cut through the room as he began to sing a blues rock tune, each word dripping with emotion and authenticity.

"Ooooh, see the fire is sweepin'

Myyy very street today

Buuurns like a red coal carpet,

Mad bull lost its way...

Waaar, children, it's just a shot away

It's just a shot away

Waaar, children, it's just a shot away

It's just a shot away

It's just a shot away

It's just a shot away

It's just a shot away

It's just a shot away..."

The guitar came alive, electrifying the room. Striker's skills were evident in every note, his fingers moving with precision and passion.

"Look out!

Raaaape, murder!

It's just a shot away

It's just a shot away

Raaaape, murder!

It's just a shot away

It's just a shot away

Raaaape, murder!

It's just a shot away

It's just a shot away..."

The crowd swayed and nodded, some with eyes closed, lost in the music. The rhythm section backed him with a steady, driving beat that resonated in the chest of every listener.

The vocalists were doing a splendid job, enhancing the feeling of the song with their honeyed voices.

"Ooooh the floods is threat'ning

Myyy very life today

Gimme, gimme shelter!

Or I'm gonna fade away..."

Striker’s performance was a blend of raw talent and heartfelt emotion, the kind that left an indelible mark on everyone present.

True, the song wasn't exactly a cheerful one, but he didn't care. They came to feel the true Wrathian spirit tonight, which was anything but sweet and joyful.

It was crude, merciless and painful, delivering the harsh truth of life.

"Waaar, children, it's just a shot away

It's just a shot away

It's just a shot away

It's just a shot away

It's just a shot away

I tell you love, sister,

it's just a kiss away

It's just a kiss away

It's just a kiss away

It's just a kiss away

It's just a kiss away

Kiss away, kiss away..."

His voice rose and fell, his eyes closed as he sang every lyric with ardor, his mind miles away.

As the final notes echoed through the club, the audience erupted into applause, the sound filling the small space with a wave of appreciation.

Striker grinned, nodded, and thanked the public, letting the band to take care of providing ambience music as he left the stage to get a drink.

He would've sang again a bit later, but for now he just wanted to enjoy a glass of bourbon.

(((Song: )))

(((Art belongs to: )))

[valyrfia]

f1 drivers as tracks from the tortured poets department: a very abridged and very biased list.

DISCLAIMER: this is all for fun and should be taken very lightheartedly. Not all drivers were included, but I am open to suggestions as well as constructive criticism.

Without further ado:

CHARLES LECLERC - I Can Do It With A Broken Heart

Absolutely suicidal lyrics that should be mildly concerning but all in all very upbeat and makes you want to run around doing side quests. Such as write an album, or open an ice cream shop. I'm thinking this is specifically 2022 Charles when he trusted no one at Ferrari, or mid-2023 when everyone was calling him washed and calling for his teammate to be n1 driver, and then he proceeded to put it on pole in a tractor multiple times and still hasn't finished outside the top 5 since. Either way, I am looking forward how this song will hit when Charles gets his eventual championship.

MAX VERSTAPPEN - Who's Afraid of Little Old Me?

This one is for Mad Max, who was thrust onto the world stage as an untested young prodigy at seventeen, who was called too young and immature and proceeded to win a GP upon debut in a top team, who was called Crashtappen from 2015-2019 and labelled as overly aggressive to his detriment, who was painted as a villain by every media outlet and documentary and DTS episode, who said "fuck the haters" and won championships anyway, who broke records, and made his own national anthem the expected song for every podium. A driver who is fast approaching greatest of all time status, for his win streaks alone. A driver that most others now just shrug about, because there's no shame in not choosing to fight the inevitable.

LEWIS HAMILTON - So Long, London

Ah, the heart-wrenching track of letting go of your long-term British relationship that doesn't serve you anymore. So many lyrics from here I could apply to the rumoured break down of amicable relations between Lewis and Mercedes, the team he won six championships with. From "My spine split from carrying us up the hill" to "I didn't opt in to be your odd man out. I founded the club she's heard great things about" to "you say I abandoned the ship But I was going down with it. My white-knuckle dying grip. Holding tight to your quiet resentment". Honestly, I could copy and paste all the lyrics here and they would apply to Lewis' Merc swan song. Taylor wrote "you swore that you loved me but where were the clues, I died on the altar waiting for the proof." about Abu Dhabi 2021.

CARLOS SAINZ - The Prophecy

Carlos has been delivering some of the best drives of his career this season, but it doesn't matter because he's not the chosen one, he's not il predestinato, he's not the son of Maranello. No matter what he does, he would never have kept that Ferrari seat over the mythos of Charles Leclerc. "Let it once be me. Who do I have to speak to, to redo the prophecy?"

LANDO NORRIS - Guilty as Sin?

Specifically given for half-flirting with Red Bull for most of last season, only to shake himself out of it and re-sign with McLaren, but I have one eye on him, not entirely sure he's given up on the Red Bull daydream, and Red Bull have been open about wanting to get him, if they can. It's all on Lando to stay faithful.

OSCAR PIASTRI - Fresh Out the Slammer

Piastrigate continues to inspire and compel an entire generation of F1 fans, and as such should form the basis of Oscar's song selection. What was the promises that Alpine made him, if not "Gray and blue and fights and tunnels Handcuffed to the spell I was under For just one hour of sunshine"

FERNANDO ALONSO - Florida!!!

Florida!!! is a big and powerful song about being a Shakespearean villain with a History and questionable morals and motives. Who is that if not Fernando Alonso? "Tell me I'm despicable, say it's unforgivable." "Is that a bad thing to say in a song?"

LANCE STROLL - But Daddy I Love Him

Yeah this one is self-indulgent and too good to resist. He's singing it about Fernando btw. Next.

DANIEL RICCIARDO - Chloe or Sam or Sophia or Marcus

Someone is getting that Red Bull seat next year, and every name is on the list except Daniel Ricciardo. "As the decade played us for fools, you saw my bones out with somebody new." Who knows what would have happened if Daniel hadn't left Red Bull, all those years ago? "Just say you loved me the way you were" Oof. We could spend years living in the What Ifs of it all.

[callsign-mayhem]

to the moon and back

Pairing: Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x Mitchell!Reader Word Count: 5.2k

You are the daughter of Pete ‘Maverick’ Mitchell and the lifelong best friend of Bradley Bradshaw. Nothing has ever been able to get in between the two of you, not even the feelings you’ve been harbouring for him for as long as you can remember. But when you both get called to Top Gun for what seems to be a suicide mission, you realise that life is too short to keep your love for him a secret.

Y/CS - your call sign

Use of Y/N but no description of reader

You couldn’t remember the last time you laid eyes on Bradley Bradshaw, and if you’d known you would be this affected by the mere sight of him then you would have better prepared yourself. He was in his rightful place behind the piano at The Hard Deck, performing ‘Great Balls of Fire’ with all his usual enthusiasm, and then some. His infectious personality had every person in the bar gravitating towards him, belting out the lyrics along with him as though their lives depended on it. You had to draw from every reserve of strength you had so as not to march right up to him and kiss him senseless. You’d missed him so much.

Being deployed had been difficult for you and had felt like exactly the wrong thing at the time, but eventually you realised that it was what you needed. If you’d stayed, it would have only been a matter of time until you spilt your guts to Bradley about the feelings you’d been harbouring for him since you were teenagers.

The song was almost over and so was your time for composing yourself. It was ridiculously warm in the packed bar, so taking a deep breath was no good. You resigned yourself to a few shots of something strong - liquid courage if you will - and headed to the bar to speak to Penny.

‘Y/N!’ she exclaimed, ‘what are you doing here?’ ‘I have no idea,’ you told her, ‘an assignment of some sort. I find out more tomorrow,’ you gestured to Bradley and a few of your other friends from the academy, ‘and apparently I’m not the only one they called. I don’t know whether I should be worried or relieved.’ ‘Your dad was just in here. He know you’re back?’ ‘Yeah, I haven’t seen him yet though,’ you gestured to the bottle of Jack behind her, ‘can I get one of those, please? Or three?’ Penny reached for the bottle and a shot glass. ‘Not wasting any time, huh?’ You glanced behind you to where Phoenix was patting Bradley on the back and getting everyone to cheer for him, ‘It’s been a while since I’ve seen these guys.’ ‘You mean it’s been a while since you saw Rooster,’ she smiled knowingly. You downed your shot and slammed the tiny glass back down. Penny refilled it immediately, ‘That too,’ you admitted with a wince. ‘You already know what I’m going to say.’ ‘Yes, and you already know why I can’t tell him.’

You downed your second shot and just as you were about to do your third, someone covered your eyes with their hand. You knew who it was without having to hear him speak or look at his face because you’d know him deaf and blind. Hell, you’d know him in death.

The familiar rumble of his voice in your ear set your entire nervous system alight: ‘Guess who.’ ‘Hmm,’ you pretended to think, ‘I don’t know. Hangman?’ Rooster scoffed, ‘I haven’t seen you in two years and the first thing you do is insult me? Glad to know some things never change, Y/CS.’

You spun around and looped your arms around his neck, pressing your face into the side of his. He lifted you off the floor and spun you around with all the grace of a bull in a china shop, laughing like a little kid. It felt like no time at all had passed.

‘And you’re still shooting whiskey like it’s water,’ he noted, setting you down gently, ‘so you definitely haven’t changed.’

You drank him in hungrily, trying to act like you weren’t totally out of control on the inside. In one of his dad’s old Hawaiian shirts with his aviators perched on the tip of his nose, he wasn’t exactly a brand new man. Something about him was different, though, but you couldn’t quite put your finger on it. Even as the two of you had gotten older, you’d always seen him as the goofy kid in the cowboy hat that could make you laugh on the darkest days. Throughout high school and your time at the academy, he’d been the person you confided in about everything, and the only secret you’d ever kept from him was your ever-growing feelings for him. But now, after just over two years apart, he felt more like a stranger than ever before. Nothing had changed, but everything had changed, and you were struggling to figure out how that could be.

‘You want a beer?’ you asked. ‘Sure, but no more shots for you. We gotta be up early and I know if you carry on drinking like that you won’t get out of bed.’ ‘When you’re right, you’re right.’

You got Rooster a beer and a JD and coke for yourself before heading over to the rest of the group. There were a few people whose reputations preceded them but you’d never met in real life, and then there was Phoenix, one of your closest friends from the academy. When she saw you she practically jumped on you and Rooster had to take your drink from your hand so it didn’t spill everywhere.

‘Y/CS!’ ‘Hey,’ you giggled, ‘Phoenix, it’s great to see you too but I can’t breathe.’ ‘Sorry, sorry,’ she relented, ‘how’ve you been? I haven’t seen you since your deployment. When did you get back?’ ‘Couple of months ago,’ you told her, ‘I’ve been in South Carolina.’ ‘You’ve been back months?’ Rooster cut in, ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’ ‘You know how it is, Roo,’ you said, ‘you get deployed, come home and your whole life is upside down for a while. By the time you’ve settled back in, weeks have gone by and you still haven’t had a chance to see anyone.’

He nodded, but his hurt was apparent. Hangman sidled up next to you and you’d never been more relieved by his incredibly annoying presence. He wrapped an arm around your shoulder, hugging you tight. He was a massive ass, but you’d somehow ended up friends while being stationed together a few years ago. A lot of his bravado was an act, and when he let his guard down he was actually a great person to talk to.

‘Y/N Mitchell,’ he said, ‘Long time no see.’ ‘Can’t say I’m mad about that.’ His usual shit-eating grin was plastered across his face, ‘You and I both know that’s a lie.’ ‘Whatever helps you sleep at night, Seresin.’

Everyone makes small talk for a while and those who have never met before are introduced. You pull a barstool over and sit next to Bob, Phoenix’s new back-seater. She’s the first one to point out the elephant in the room.

‘So anybody know what this ‘special detachment’s’ all about?’ ‘A mission’s a mission,’ Hangman replies, ‘They don’t confront me. What I wanna know is who’s team leader. And which’a ya’ll have what it takes to follow me?’ Hangman winks at Rooster, needling him, ‘Hangman, the only place you’ll ever lead anyone is an early grave.’ Hangman looks up from his next shot and walks over to Rooster until they’re standing face to face. ‘Anyone follows you is just gonna… run outta fuel. But then that’s you all over, ain’t it, Rooster? Snug on your perch, waitin’ for juuuuust the right moment. That never comes.’ Rooster tenses visibly and you grab his arm, ‘Hey, you wanna get another drink? Feel like we’ve got some catching up to do.’

You leave the rest of the group to their game and grab a couple more drinks before heading outside. The Bronco is parked out front looking prettier than ever, paintwork glinting in the late-evening sunlight. If you had a dollar for the amount of late-night drives you and Bradley had taken in that thing, you’d be a billionaire.

You intended to sit at one of the tables outside The Hard Deck, but Rooster had other ideas. You ignored the swarm of butterflies in your stomach when he took your hand and led you down towards the beach and reminded yourself that you had no reason to be nervous; he was your best friend, he didn’t know about your feelings and nothing had changed.

‘I still can’t believe you’ve been back months and you didn’t tell me.’ You cringed, ‘I’m sorry, Bradley. I should’ve called, I know.’ ‘Mav know you’re back?’ Yeah, he’s here too.’

Your father was a touchy conversation subject and you tried to avoid talking about him as much as possible. Once you’d eventually realised that there was no way of convincing Rooster that everything he’d done had come from a place of love and concern, you’d given up trying to keep the peace. It was difficult, letting him fester in his own anger, but it wasn’t your fight. However, you’d be lying if you said you weren’t still holding out hope that things would go back to the way they used to be someday.

‘How’ve you been, anyway?’ you asked, swiftly changing the subject, ‘What’s new in your life?’ ‘The usual. Getting called down here is the most exciting thing that’s happened to me in months.’ You laughed, ‘That can’t be true. What happened to the girl you were dating?’ ‘Molly? Jesus Christ, that was over as quickly as it started. I stopped seeing her not long after you left,’ he sipped his beer, ‘what about you? Meet your future husband while you were away?’ ‘Nope,’ you sighed, ‘starting to think I’m destined to be alone forever.’ ‘What about Hangman?’ Rooster asked, Jake’s callsign sounding like ashes in his mouth.

To call your brief fling with Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin a mistake would have been putting it lightly. You’d been stationed together in Alabama for a little while and he was the only familiar person there so, naturally, you’d gravitated towards him and him to you. After getting to know each other better, one thing had led to another and you’d ended up sleeping together after one too many JD and cokes. That one night had led to another and another until you were pretty much dating, although neither of you had ever mentioned putting any kind of label on whatever it was the two of you had going on. Rooster had been up in arms when he found out, yelling at you down the phone that Jake was a complete and total asshole and that you deserved so much better, leading to the worst - and only - fight you’d ever had.

While getting involved with Jake was definitely a mistake and you didn’t plan on walking down that particular path ever again, you still stood by what you said in his defence: you have to get to know him in order to understand him.

‘You already know that’s over.’

Rooster looked at you and you had to remind yourself to breathe. You’d never wanted to kiss him more in your entire life.

‘I’ve got no idea why we’re here,’ he said, ‘but I’m glad you’re with me, Y/N.’ ‘Me too, Bradley. Me too.’

-

The special detachment, as it turned out, was a suicide mission. There was no other way of putting it. Your dad was immensely proud of you and your accomplishments and had never once doubted your abilities as a pilot, but he wasn’t happy that you were on this particular mission. He wasn’t happy that Rooster was on it either. After your first day of training, you went to dinner with your old man so you could catch up and talk about what you’d be in for over the course of the next couple of weeks. You hadn’t realised just how much you’d missed him until you were sitting in front of him, but part of you wished it was under different circumstances.

‘Surely me being part of the team you’re training goes against some kind of rule,’ you said around a mouthful of steak. ‘The stakes are so high, I think mostly every rule has already gone out the window.’ ‘I haven’t been this scared since I climbed in a cockpit for the first time,’ you admitted, ‘but I’ve also never wanted to be on a mission more.’ Your dad smiled, but there was fear in his eyes, ‘I don’t like that look, Y/N.’ ‘It’s the only one I got, Dad, and I got it from you.’ ‘Yeah, that’s what I’m worried about.’

-

White hot rage blinded you like a fire poker between your eyes. The minute Rooster walked through the doors you were racing up to him. Jake had to grab both of your arms and pull you off him to prevent you from swinging at him.

‘What the fuck was that Bradshaw?!’ you roared, ‘You got a fucking death wish?!’

He ran a hand through his hair, face flushed from the heat and the adrenaline coursing through his veins. You weren’t just angry at him for endangering his life, or your dad’s, for that matter, you were angry because you understood why he’d done it. And you knew that if you were in his shoes and you were up there with something to prove, you’d have done the exact same thing.

‘Can we not do this here?’

You shrugged Jake off and straightened out your flight suit, leading Bradley out of the room. He followed you outside into the blazing heat of the San Diego sun where you preceded to turn around and punch him so hard in the shoulder that he took a step back.

‘Jesus, Y/N,’ he huffed, ‘was that really necessary?’ ‘I don’t know, was nearly killing yourself and my dad really necessary?’ ‘I had it under control!’ You laughed humourlessly,  ‘Yeah, it looked like it.’ ‘I’m not gonna have this fight with you,’ he said matter-of-factly, ‘I’m sorry for scaring you, but you have to understand-’ ‘I do understand!’ you screamed, ‘But just because I understand, doesn’t mean I can’t be pissed as hell!’

He pulled you flush against his chest and you softened immediately, unable to resist the comfort and security that came with one of Bradley’s bear hugs. If you had it your way, you’d stay in his arms like this for the rest of time.

‘You really need to have it out with Mav,’ you mumbled into his flight suit, ‘this is getting beyond ridiculous - it’s dangerous.’ He kissed the top of your head, ‘I know.’

-

You had to admit, dog fight football was a stroke of genius on your dad’s part. It was the perfect way to relieve any tensions between the team and also take everyone’s minds off the upcoming mission. Jake and Bradley - the two team captains - tossed a coin to decide who would pick first, and Jake ended up picking you. You suspected he did it just to get underneath Bradley’s skin, and judging by the set of his jaw as you marched over to Jake, his plan worked.

You also had Payback on your team, and between the two of you, you were carrying the whole game. You didn’t like to toot your own horn but… toot toot.

‘Come on Bradshaw!’ you yelled, smirking devilishly, ‘You really gonna let me kick your ass so spectacularly in front of everyone?!’ ‘You’ve got Payback! It ain’t fair!’ ‘Oh, so you don’t think we could win without him?!’

He was holding one of the balls and was preoccupied with insulting you, so when you ran at him at full force and snatched it right out of his hands, he was too stunned to try and stop you. Hangman and Payback both cheered, but as soon as Bradley refocused he was on your heels, and he had the advantage of extremely long legs.

Just before you could score, he came up behind you and wrapped both of his arms around your middle, lifting you off the ground and throwing you over his shoulder. You were so startled you dropped the ball and unluckily for you, Coyote was right there to pick it up and score another point for their team.

‘Put me down you cheat!’

Rooster was laughing so hard you could feel him shaking with it as he ran. He didn’t stop running until he reached the water and it was up to his waist, and then he dropped you in. It was freezing but actually quite a relief after running around in the sun all afternoon. You came up for air coughing and sputtering to find him doubled over with laughter, and you took the opportunity to drag him back down with you, pushing his head down further under the water. You knew you wouldn’t be able to overpower him long and before you could even comprehend what was happening he had a tight grip on both of your thighs, yanking you back under.

If not for the fact that it all happened so quickly, you would have spent more time revelling in the feeling of his big hands wrapped around the tops of your thighs. Your whole body broke out in goosebumps, and you knew it wasn’t from the chill of the water. When you both resurfaced you were smiling like fools and laughing like two lovesick teenagers, and you never wanted the moment to end.

‘Hey!’ Hangman called out, ‘Are you two still playing or what? I’ve got a game to win!’ With an eye roll, you yelled back: ‘Yeah we’re still playing, you couldn’t win without me anyway!’

Somehow, Rooster’s sunglasses had remained on his face throughout the entire fiasco, and you reached out and gently slid them off. He blinked against the sunlight and watched in awe as you put them on.

‘Did I say you could wear those?’ he asked. ‘Did I ask your permission?’

The two of you made your way back towards the rest of the squad, and it looked like your team was back in the lead. A sly remark about Rooster’s sabotage failing was on the tip of your tongue, but then he put his hand on your waist and pulled you into his side, ruffling the top of your head affectionately. The skin-on-skin contact was enough to drive you insane, and your words died on your lips.

‘Keep them,’ he murmured, ‘they look better on you anyway.’

-

When the mission got moved up, any calmness you felt dissipated like water on the hot asphalt of a runway. Your dad was now team leader and you had mixed feelings about it. You’d spent your whole life fearing for him, but knowing he was going on this mission really took the cake. And then there was the small issue of you being his kid, which would undoubtedly cloud his judgement when it came to selecting the rest of his team. For one, the chances of him even wanting you on the mission were slim to none, but then there was the worry that if he chose you, it would be seen as favouritism.

The final day of training was over and you’d been told to go and get some rest before tomorrow, and despite your exhaustion, you knew that if you were to lay down in your bunk now sleep wouldn’t come. It was one of those rare moments where the sky over Fightertown was empty and as a result, an eerie quiet had settled over the base. You were still in full flight gear - minus your helmet - sitting on the ground in the shade provided by the wing of your F/A-18. Before settling in for the night you still had to find time to shower, get something to eat and see your dad, but you were paralysed.

You dreaded to think how long you would’ve sat there if Rooster hadn’t suddenly materialised. He sat down opposite, stretching his long legs out so they were on either side of you.

‘What are you still doing out here?’ he asked gently, ‘You feeling okay?’

You were fiddling with your dog tags, a nervous tic you’d picked up in the academy, and Rooster never failed to notice. Looking into your eyes earnestly, he took both of your hands in his.

‘Talk to me, Y/CS.’ You sighed deeply, ‘I’ve never been this nervous about a mission before. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.’ ‘This is the highest-stakes mission either of us has ever gone on in our careers. I would be worrying if you weren’t nervous.’ ‘Yeah, but you know me, Roo. I don’t do nerves.’ ‘You think I’m not shitting my pants at the thought of having to fly tomorrow?’ You laughed despite the lump in the base of your throat, ‘You hide it better than me, then.’ ‘You can’t keep anything off your face, Y/N. I always know what you’re feeling.’ ‘You do?’

Your heart dropped at the thought of him being able to read you so well, but in hindsight, you should have known. You’d literally been destined to be best friends since before you were born, since your dads stayed up late one night talking about their futures, wondering if they’d have kids and how well they’d get along. As far as you knew, he’d never kept anything from you, and you’d only ever kept one thing from him. You lived your life at the same pace, shared the same moral compass and wanted all the same things. You finished each other’s sentences and could have secret conversations through facial expressions, without even having to speak. If he called, you answered. If he needed you, you ran to him, and vice versa.

You didn’t need him to confirm your worst fear: he knew you were in love with him. There was no doubt in your mind and you were a fool not to have seen it sooner.

As though he’d read your mind and sensed the worsening of your anxiety, he changed the subject.

‘What do you say we go and grab a bite to eat?’ ‘Like a last supper?’ Bradley laughed, ‘You can be really morbid sometimes, you know that?’

-

‘It’s been an honour flying with you,’ your dad said, ‘each one of you represents the best of the best. This is a very specific mission. My choice is a reflection of that, and nothing more.’ ‘Choose your two Foxtrot teams.’ Cyclone told him.

You fought the urge to vomit down your flight suit.

‘Phoenix and Bob. Y/CS and Payback.’

You didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

‘And your wingman.’

The tension in the air was palpable. A bead of sweat rolled down the back of your neck.

‘Rooster.’

You could feel Bradley’s eyes on you, but judging by the unpleasant feeling that had overcome you, turning around to face him wouldn’t be a smart idea. For one, he more than likely looked just as nauseous as you and seeing him like that would only cause your anxiety to skyrocket. Secondly, he was the one person you could be completely vulnerable in front of and since it was already taking every ounce of your strength not to cry, it was probably best not to engage.

For the next hour, the seconds passed you by like cars on a highway. You listened to Warlock explain the mission for the final time, but his words went in one ear and came out the other. You stayed at Payback’s side up until it was time to go, but just as you were heading out to the flight deck, your dad pulled you aside for the conversation you’d been anticipating since he said your name.

His expression was, as ever, unreadable and you decided that it was probably a good thing that you didn’t know exactly what he was feeling in that moment. If Maverick was nervous, then you really had something to worry about.

He pulled you close and squeezed you tight, and you let out a single, strangled sob.

‘I know you can do this.’ ‘Me too,’ you were clinging onto him for dear life, ‘but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t terrified.’ ‘If I didn’t believe in you completely, I wouldn’t have chosen you.’ ‘I know, Dad.’ ‘I love you, Y/N.’ ‘I love you too. I’ll see you when we get back.’

He kissed the top of your head before letting you go and you headed out to the flight deck together. Payback was already waiting for you, but it seemed as though there was one more conversation to be had. Maverick patted Rooster on the back as he passed, throwing one final glance back at the two of you. All you could do was remind yourself over and over again that you’d be seeing him later and that you’d be going for steaks at your favourite diner back in San Diego before you knew it.

You could tell Rooster didn’t know what to say but it didn’t matter. You already knew, because you were thinking all the same things.

‘When we get home, I have some things I wanna talk to you about.’

He reached out to touch your cheek and you leaned into his hand, almost nuzzling his palm with the side of your face. Hugging him, you decided, would be too final. It would feel like a goodbye, and this wasn’t a goodbye, it was simply ‘see you later.’

‘There are some things I want to talk to you about as well,’ you smiled sheepishly, ‘but if you can read me as well as you say, you already know that.’ ‘Yeah, I know.’ ‘Fly safe, Roo.’ ‘Give ‘em hell, Y/CS.’

-

It wasn’t humanely possible to count how many times you’d flown. It was as natural as breathing oxygen, almost a second thought at this point. Getting into the cockpit of a fighter plane felt more like coming home than walking through the front door of the house you grew up in with your dad.

But nothing could have prepared you for that mission.

And nothing could have prepared you for the immense feeling of sheer panic and terror when your dad was hit. It was as though the bottom of your plane had dropped out and you were in freefall. If that wasn’t horrific enough, Rooster had gone after him. This paired with the chaos of the dogfight was traumatising enough that you’d forgotten how to breathe and what you were supposed to be doing. You had absolutely no idea how Payback managed to talk you down from going after both of them, but he did, as well as calming you down enough so you could fly back to the aircraft carrier.

You weren’t in the habit of being overly emotional in front of anyone who wasn’t Bradley or your father, but when you climbed out of the cockpit and Phoenix was already waiting for you, arms open, you collapsed onto her and broke down. You’d been completely inconsolable up until you got word of Rooster’s signal in an unidentified F-14.

Surprisingly, the relief came after cursing yourself for ever believing that your father could be bested by anyone. At this point, you were almost entirely sure that he was immortal. And as for Bradley, he was much stronger than everyone else realised. He gave Maverick a run for his money, and that was saying something. Phoenix was the only reason you hadn’t collapsed onto the ground when you realised they were okay and coming home, with the help of Hangman, of course. In the back of your mind, you were wondering how long it was going to take to hear the end of it from Jake.

And there you were on the flight deck with Phoenix’s arm around your shoulder and Payback’s around your waist, watching your dad and your best friend make the rockiest landing you’d ever seen. It felt as though all your internal organs were in your throat as you watched the net get thrown out, ready to catch the incoming aircraft and stop it from going overboard. The sound was near-deafening but you hardly noticed with the rushing blood in your ears. As soon as that plane stopped moving, you tore away from Phoenix and Payback and made a beeline towards the F-14, safety concerns be damned.

Your dad climbed out first, somehow steady on his feet despite what he’d just been through. But that was Mav all over, wasn’t it? He didn’t so much as wobble until you threw yourself at him.

‘Dad!’ you shrieked, ‘Are you okay? Are you hurt?’

He held you with the strength of someone who had a newfound value for their own life. He cradled the back of your head with one hand and stroked your hair like he used to when you were small.

‘I’m okay, are you okay?’ ‘You’re seriously asking me that?’ He laughed breathlessly, ‘I’m okay now.’ You squeezed him tighter than ever before, ‘I love you, Dad. I love you so much.’ ‘I love you too,’ he replied, releasing you reluctantly, ‘and I want you to know how proud I am of you for pulling that off.’ ‘It’s in my blood.’ He put his hands on either side of your face and leaned in to kiss your forehead, ‘I think you should go and speak to Rooster,’ he whispered, ‘we’ll talk more afterwards, okay?’

At the mention of Rooster, all the wind was knocked out of you. All you could do was nod at your father before he headed over to the rest of the squad, leaving you alone in front of the battered F-14. Rooster had jumped out right after your dad, but he’d given the two of you some space. You locked eyes like they do in the movies, but this wasn’t a movie. The world didn’t tilt on its axis or stop turning altogether; it was more like the two of you were the only ones in it that actually mattered. Everyone around you might as well have been frozen in time.

He was taking long strides towards you, but he couldn’t get to you quick enough so you ran to meet him halfway, not stopping until your face was mere millimetres away from his. He was filthy, covered in blood, and sweat and God only knew what else, but you were blinded by the light behind his eyes. You’d always been totally mesmerised by him, but this was something else entirely. It was suddenly very apparent to you that you would do anything this man asked of you, follow him down to the eye of any storm, love him until you took your final breath.

‘Y/N-’ ‘Don’t say anything,’ you interjected, ‘I already know what you’re gonna say, and I don’t wanna waste any more time.’

And before he could utter another word, you pressed your lips to his. The kiss started out soft but then he ran his fingers through your hair and somehow managed to pull your face even closer, deepening the kiss. He ran his tongue along your lips and you parted them for him, finally tasting him the way you’d wanted to for as long as you could remember. Your veins were thrumming with so much electricity you thought your head might explode. When you eventually parted, the space between you was too much for you to bear (you never wanted there to be any space between you and Bradley ever again) so you looped your arms around his neck just like you always did when you hugged him. His face was full of so much adoration, anyone would think you’d hung the bloody moon in the sky.

‘Do you know how long I’ve wanted to do that?’ he asked. ‘If it’s anywhere near as long as me, we’re going to be kicking ourselves.’ He kissed the tip of your nose and you damn-near melted, ‘I don’t want to go another day without kissing you like that.’ ‘Neither do I.’

You’d forgotten that the rest of your squad was standing a few feet away, waiting to celebrate with you. When you turned around, they were all cheering for you and Rooster and you could just about make out Phoenix’s ‘finally’ over the sound of Payback’s hoots. You knew you had to go over there and that there would be plenty of time to be alone when you got back to San Diego, but you couldn’t wait until then to tell Bradley how you felt about him. If he hadn’t already guessed.

You had to stand on tip toes to reach his ear, where you whispered: ‘I love you, Bradley Bradshaw. To the moon and back again.’ You felt him shiver beneath your touch. ‘I love you too, Y/N.’

[delopsia]

ride the lightning | rhett abbott x reader

Word Count: 7,200 Cross Posted on AO3 Warnings & Notes: 18+, AFAB!Reader, slice of life, Rhett's shoulder injury, showering together, outdoor sex, unprotected sex, food, absolutely zero plot to this one. Brief Summary: What's more fun than a post-rodeo party? Running off and having your own personal rodeo right before the storm hits.  

"You've got to quit eyeing those cowboys," Autumn's already chiding you, her words distorted by the glass resting against her bottom lip. 

Hesitant, your gaze drifts back to her. Weren't quite done scanning the room, but if you don't stop now, then you'll lose the luxury of feigning stupidity. "What do you mean?" 

"You're not slick!" She pauses, taking a sip of the liquid gold that fills her cup, the taste so bitter that her nose wrinkles. "I see you looking over there." 

"Because I'm looking for someone," you chirp, your nail tapping against the table as you begin to look around again. 

There was no way that wasn't his truck out in the parking lot. You'd know that aftermarket lightbar anywhere. But you don't see him. Not by the jukebox or the pool table. Hell, he's not even with his buddy Archie over there beside the empty water trough. 

"It's that bull rider from the rodeo, ain't it." Autumn's hit the nail on the head, and she knows it. Swirling the ice in her glass, grin growing wider with every second that passes. "You sure have a type."

It's not as if you could ever defend yourself from that accusation, but you're leaning forward, voice low as you whisper. "Yeah, like you don't have a thing for blue-eyed blondes."

"Blue-eyed blondes with money." She tips her glass at you as if to further her correction. It's not until after she's downed another greedy gulp of beer that she opens her mouth again.  "At least we have the eye thing in common."

All the men in the world, and here you two have picked men that happen to be neighbors. Arch enemies at that. Classic, century-old feud stuff. At this point, they don't hate each other for a reason; they do it for tradition.

You reckon a family hobby would be healthier, but that's not your dog, and it's certainly not your fight.

...not yet, at least. 

"At what point are we obligated to hate each other?" Dipping a finger into your drink as you speak, mindlessly swirling the ice until it forms its own little whirlpool. It's pretty to look at. Blue in color, with a little cherry and framed in a dainty glass, but whoever mixed this gave you all tequila and no juice. 

She hums, looking at something behind your head. "Whenever someone coughs up a half-mil."

Your finger stops, feeling the alcohol keep spinning past your finger. The cherry stem scrapes your skin. "Our friendship is only worth half a million to you?" 

"No," her eyes finally dart back to you, glinting in the light, "but that's how much is in Luke's checking account."

You don't even want to know how or why someone would have that much money ready to spend at a moment's notice. Or, better yet, where the hell that money came from.

Whatever is behind you, Autumn seems pretty interested in it, and you've got a good enough guess that it's the face of a man you're not interested in seeing. If you make eye contact, he'll take that as an invitation. 

Music sparks to life, blaring from a pair of cheap speakers somewhere on your left. You vaguely recognize the start of the song, but you're too busy scanning the crowd to pay attention to the lyrics. There are so many cowboy hats that you can't even cling to your usual method of finding him. Fuck, and hardly anyone has taken off their rodeo chaps. How are you supposed to—

There he is, beside the coolers. Red solo cup in hand, full of what you can only assume is more cheap beer. 

He's already looking at you, the corner of his lip lifting as you meet his gaze. 

"Speaking of," Autumn's already beginning to get up, the plastic table jolting as her hip bumps into it. "I just found who I was looking for."

"Have fun," pausing to glance at who she's so focused on. You're not sure why you expected it to be anyone other than Luke. "Try not to show up on the Abbott ranch with another hangover."

"No promises!" And just like that, she's left you. 

If history is anything to go off of, she'll charm him into driving her around in one of those fancy sports cars again. You've got a feeling that she's gonna be up in Jackson before sunrise, nestled in a fancy hotel for the weekend. 

"'s this seat taken?" 

You recognize that voice.

You've got to tilt your head to see him. Towering over you like some kind of giant, all broad shoulders and scruffy as can be, rodeo dirt still decorating his unshaven jaw. He hasn't even bothered to change out of his flannel, the ripped upper sleeve falling open to reveal the thick bicep lurking underneath. The left one sits a little awkwardly. Higher. An old injury aggravated by tonight's ride.

You want to climb him like a damn tree. 

"Maybe it is." Coy.

"Oh really?" His head cocks off to the side, hair falling into his face. "Who's it for?"

You've already got an answer brewing, but you hold it on your tongue for a moment, feigning thought. "His name is Rhett."

He hums. "Never heard of him." 

Silence. 

And then—

Rhett's laugh twists through the air like a melody, the plastic chair squeaking as he all but falls into the poor thing. One of these days, he's gonna do that, and it'll snap in two, but today doesn't seem to be that day. 

His hand motions toward the lone drink resting on the table, with its obnoxious blue color and lone cherry still swirling from when you toyed with it. "What's that?"

"Something terrible," you're already lifting the glass, holding it out for him to take. 

It's strange seeing him sipping from a dainty cocktail glass. Looks so much smaller when it's in his hand. You're not even sure if he notices the severe lack of juice, entirely unphased by the tequila that greets him. The cherry slips between his parted lips, the stem catching between them. 

"I thought you didn't like cherries?" Your head tilts to the side, curious. 

"I don't." His brow furrows, all too focused on something that you can't see. "But I like doin' this." Before you can begin to process what he's just said, his mouth opens, a tied cherry stem resting on top of his tongue. 

And here you thought you'd seen it all from him. "Is this your new party trick?" 

"Somethin' like that," the stem falls, landing somewhere that you don't see. Maybe you would know if you weren't too busy watching him lean forward, eyes sparkling with something he has yet to share. "Hey, do y' wanna get outta here?" 

"Not having fun?" Your answer is yes, but you're not sharing that yet. 

"I am, but..." then, lowering his voice, as if there's a risk of someone hearing him over the booming music, "'s more fun when it's just us."

You don't know where he's planning to go after this, but you're sold.

"I still can't believe you!" The squeal of the passenger door nearly drowns out your giggles, plastic grocery bags rustling as you climb out of the truck. 

You haven't the slightest clue which bag has the popcorn and which contains the chips, but the weight of the drinks is painfully obvious, the plastic handles rubbing uncomfortably against your arms. Curse the cashier for cramming all the bottles into one bag.

"Yeah, like you ain't never distracted me so you could pay for somethin'." Rhett's still laughing, that big cocky grin plastered across his face.

"But I never pretended I lost my keys!" Raising your voice for added effect, rounding the back of the truck. 

He's already beaten you here, opening the beaten tailgate. "Maybe ya should've." Wink.

Your eyes roll so hard that it hurts. "I'll remember that for the next time we get snacks."

Rhett's shoulder nudges yours, pushing just hard enough to make you sway. "You'll forget." 

"I'll forget." Immediate acceptance. You've sung this tune so many times that even you know that you never follow through in the end. 

The back of his truck is a damn mess; square bales of hay, two empty gas cans, the shredded remnants of a flannel, a handsaw, and you think that's a bag of chicken feed over there in the back corner. The tailgate is the only open space for you to set the bags on, and it's only now that you realize how many snacks you've actually gotten.

"We probably should have gotten dinner at Odessa's instead," you find yourself saying as you poke through one of the bags. Where in the world are those candies you got?

He reaches past you, plucking a stray screwdriver out of the mess that is his truck bed. Something tells you that he's been looking for that. "What makes ya say that?" 

"Look at all the junk we got!" Opening up one of the bags for him to see, as if he wasn't there when you both picked out and bought these things. 

But Rhett just shrugs, "Don't see nothin' wrong with it."  

Hypothetically, it shouldn't take you that long to find your candy. There are only five bags, but even as you poke through them all, you don't see that brightly colored packaging anywhere. But you know they were rung up. They're on the damn receipt! So where the hell...did you miss them somehow?

By the time you find them sitting in the front seat, nestled up against Rhett's lost bag of sunflower seeds, he's already set up the blankets. Thick, old things layered on top of each other as a makeshift cushion, protecting you from the rocky ground lurking beneath the grass. One of the downsides of choosing a pasture to lounge in, you suppose. 

He's already sitting on the corner of his makeshift blanket nest, half-lidded eyes drinking you in as you settle down next to him, your knee clumsily knocking into his thigh. You'd pay attention to him if you weren't too focused on this box of candy, pushing your thumb under the thin cardboard edge, forcing it open. 

Weight appears on your shoulder. 

Those Western romances always talk about the allure of a stoic, gunslinging cowboy, weathered by the elements and the human definition of fearless. They always fail to mention the cowboys who blink up at you like a puppy, too shy to verbally beg for a piece of your snack. 

"Do you want something?" Dipping your fingers into the box, pulling out one of the candies.

Rhett hums. Not quite a yes, but not quite a no, either. It's one of those sounds that you've heard enough times to know what it means, already lifting the first piece of candy to his lips. The scruff of his chin tickles your skin when he takes it.

Blind, your hand feels along his face, stealing away the overwhelming warmth residing there, drinking in the soft drag of his facial hair, finally at that perfect length where it no longer feels like sandpaper but has yet to begin looking like the beginnings of a beard. His tongue presses on the soft inside of his cheek, pushing against your fingers.

"Quit that!" You squeal, yanking your hand back.

"'s it really feel that weird?" His head tilts, and you don't need to look to know that he's peeking up at you.

"Yes!" And there might be more to add to that, but you're pushing one of the candies into your mouth, the sweetness effectively shutting you up. Remaining quiet even as he tilts his head to press a prickly kiss to the side of your neck, such a simple gesture that should not have your lower belly twisting with something familiar.

You've got to think about something else. Something that doesn't involve jumping on and biting him like a flea. Sucking hard on that little piece of candy, eyes scurrying for something to look at. But all you're finding is darkness and more darkness.

No lampposts or porch lights or flickering campfires, just the pale glow of the moon and the speckling of stars hanging in the sky. There are so many of them up there. Almost looks as if someone has dumped a bottle of glitter atop a roll of never-ending black velvet fabric, twinkling proudly against their backdrop of nothingness. 

The weight on your shoulder disappears. Leaves behind an absurd sense of coldness as he gets up to fetch something from the truck. Odd, how you never seem to realize how warm he is until after he's gone. 

Even the poor lighting can't hinder you from taking him in. The rodeo spurs clinging to his muddied boots. The leather chaps that hang low on his hips, with the thin little buckles in the back that squeeze the thick meat of his thighs. You know there's a reason for them to be there, but the irrational part of your brain reckons they exist solely to make you dizzy. 

"Are you ever going to take those chaps off?" You find yourself asking, after a moment, dragging your gaze away from his ass. 

Rhett freezes, his hand still wedged in the plastic bag as he looks down at his own two legs. "Eventually," he pauses, cracking open one of the cans. You haven't a doubt in your mind that it's one of those spiked lemonades he's recently discovered. "Whenever my shoulder loosens up enough t' let me mess with it."

"Need help?" Words firing off your tongue before you can process what they mean.

The black and yellow can lifts to his mouth, poorly concealing the upward turn of his lips. "I ain't never said no to you undressin' me, doll."

One little sentence, and you've forgotten about your candy entirely, letting it fall onto the blankets without any care for whether or not it spills. You've hardly got to move; settling onto your knees is more than enough. He steps forward, standing right on the edge of the blanket, that oversized buckle glimmering in the moonlight. Your fingertips brush over the edge of it, dented from the hoof of last week's bull.

"I thought the clasp broke on this?" Audibly tapping a nail against it as you make your way to the much smaller buckle hanging underneath. Not thin or frail by any means, but the contrasting sizes isn't doing it any favors. 

Your fingers hook beneath the belt, tugging on the tiny strip of leather until he gets the hint.

He grunts, boots shuffling as you drag him forward. "Nothin' a little weldin' couldn't fix." 

It's easier to see the awkward hang of his left shoulder from down here, tense and lifted higher than the right one, like someone's wound the muscle too tight. Maybe that dislocation would have healed correctly if he agreed to that hospital visit. But...here you are.

All you've got to do is pull the leather strap backward, and the prong pops out of the hole. For such tough-looking chaps, they sure come off easily. One weak tug is all it takes to have them falling down his legs, falling as quickly as you'll let them, hands gliding down the sides of his thighs and past his bony knees, eating up as much time as you can.

It's a shame that you don't need to undo the buckles around his thighs, too; you wouldn't mind the tedious process of helping him buckle them back up, either. But it's too late for that. You've already gotten the leather past one of his boots, working it over the other just as quickly. 

Even as you set those old chaps to the side, Rhett doesn't make much of an effort to move, standing idle as you fold them. Eyes locked with yours, transfixed by the simple image of you on your knees, right in front of him. You know what he's thinking. You're thinking it, too. Memories so prominent in your mind that you're already beginning to act on them.

Something booms in the distance. A deep noise that rolls through the pasture like a warning of something more to come. You think that's lightning, you see, flickering in the corner of your eye, but you're not paying attention. You can't. Not when your hands are moving on their own whims, gliding up the sides of his thighs. 

Rhett's hum echoes into his half-empty can. Seems to carry for miles. "Didn't realize we were gettin' another storm."

His breath hitches. Eyelashes fluttering. 

Your hand drifts across the tent in his jeans once more. Warm. Growing heavier with every passing second. "Think we have time?" You ask as if you don't already know the answer. As if there isn't a sudden heat flushing between your legs, the voice in your head impatiently demanding that you hurry up and pinch open his belt.

"'n here y' say I'm the one with a problem," but just like that, he's sinking to his knees. Face to face, all too quickly. 

"It's not my fault that you look like...that!"  Floundering for an escape from the situation you've created all by yourself. 

One side of his mouth quirks upward, that lopsided smile so bright that it ought to put the sun to shame. Wind rips past, nudging his hair out from behind his ear and into his face, but it does nothing to hide his pretty face. Scruffy as it may be.

It must be the breeze that nudges you forward because you don't feel yourself moving. But you're leaning forward, mouth blindly clashing with his. A little too far to the right at first, and then his hair is in the way, and...

oh.

You've missed this. 

It's hardly been a few hours since the last time, but your heart argues that it's been a lifetime and a half. One little chaste peck, and then another, and another, and another, until you cease to part ways altogether. Those big arms wind around you, his palm pressing into the small of your spine, drawing you up against him.

And you're melting into him like ice cream in the summer sun, any semblance of control vanishing alongside it. Hands roaming up the broad expanse of his chest, tickling against his neck, curling around his prickly jaw, tangling in the curls resting at his nape. Your touch is nothing special, and yet he groans into your kiss anyhow. 

Callouses catch on the soft skin of your lower back, his hands shamelessly wandering beneath your shirt. Pulling it off is tempting, but Rhett's lemonade-flavoured tongue is licking into your mouth, and the wind whispers that you don't have the time for that kind of luxury. Not if you don't want to get rained on by another one of Wabangs popup storms. 

But you do have time to reach for his flannel, dragging your finger through the buttons, audibly snapping apart at record speeds. He needs to wear pearl snap flannels more often.

"Shit," he's gasping against your lips, breaking apart for the slightest of seconds, "'s a lil cold."

The world spins around you. Back hitting the ground with all the grace and ease of a newborn deer. A bolt of lightning tears across the sky, set off by the burning hands that appear on your hips, tugging at your waistband. Your body lifts, and they're gone. You're not even sure what has become of your shoes. Don't recall feeling them come off, but your socked feet are sliding against the blanket, fighting for purchase. 

Rhett's eyes snap shut, squeezing so tight that his forehead wrinkles with the effort. 

"What hurts?" You already know that look. Already have a vague idea of what could be bugging him. 

"Shoulder," speaking through gritted teeth, not bothering to ease up, as if relaxing his jaw could bring on another wave of pain. "moved it too fast." Slower this time, he leans forward, hands falling onto either side of you, and—

"Shit." He's hissing under his breath. Sounds more like a snake than a man. There's no way that he's going to be able to put weight on that left arm, not with his shoulder visibly twitching, sent into an angry spasm. 

"This isn't gonna work," you whisper, chasing the dwindling hope that your words will reach his ears but not his already sore ego. 

Rhett hasn't even opened his eyes, but he's already shaking his head. Stubborn to the end. You know what he's going to say before it even leaves his mouth. "Hold on, if you give me a second..."

You've already got an idea. "Lay on your back." Your hands find his chest, gently pressing until he gets the message, limbs awkwardly tangling as you exchange positions. Straddling his plush thighs, settled a little bit lower than you'd intended.

It's not quite what you originally had in mind, but you've never been one to complain about riding a cowboy, already beginning to reach for his belt buckle. You don't know how you found this difficult when you first got together; all it takes is the slightest motion, and it pops open. Then comes his belt and the crooked zipper that struggles to run down the tracks.

His hips jerk, thighs smacking into your ass. "Not that I'm complainin', darlin'," there's a weakness to his voice that wasn't there a moment ago. Like he's run a marathon in the time it took you to blink. "'s there somethin' rilin' you up?"

"No." Then, smiling, "Just you."

Blue eyes dart away. Looking off to the side. "Oh."

If it were lighter outside, you think you'd catch a whisper of a blush coloring his cheeks, but your vision has been reduced to dark blobs of color. Can't even tell what color his boxers are, even when your hand dips through the front of them, blindly reaching until—

Rhett sucks in a breath. 

It's hardly been a few minutes, and yet he's already so damn heavy. Thick in your grasp, a bead of precum running down the underside of his tip. Your thumb swipes across it, dragging it back up to his plush cock head.

"You're already so wet, cowboy," you muse, lazily tracing circles around his slit. There's so much of it. Dripping like a damn faucet, so much precum that you can see the glisten of it in the darkness. 

Thunder rumbles to your left. Closer now. But you just can't help yourself. 

Your mouth finds the underside of his cock. Pressing kisses onto the vein that runs along there, working your way up from his base. Tongue lazily poking out to swirl around his head, so used to the saltiness of his precum that you hardly even notice it. One of those advantages that comes with knowing him like the back of your hand. 

Like how you know that the delicate scrape of your teeth will make him—

"Ah!" Sharp. Pitchy. The closest thing you'll get to a squeal, the kind of sound that has your thighs trying to squeeze together, suddenly warm. 

Something in your jaw pops as you take him into your mouth. Sucking lazily, like you're savoring a piece of candy, not even making an effort to stop the drool from slipping past your lips. The wetter the better. Because you're pretty sure you know the answer to the question you're about to ask.

"Condom?" Pulling off of him with a soft 'pop.' 

Rhett's head tilts toward the truck, brow furrowing, visibly thinking for a moment. Then, his lips flatten into a line. "'s in my jeans at home."

Thunder rumbles once more, urging your already racing thoughts to scramble even faster. Pulling out could be an option if not for the fact that it's never worked out for you in the past, always seeming to forget in your final moments. Riding in that bouncy passenger seat with his cum leaking out of you has never been the most comfortable thing. Cleaning up is the worst, but...

Fuck, you really can't seem to make yourself care about any of that.

Rhett's belly flexes with the effort to sit up, his right elbow bracing his weight. A familiar blob of black peeks out from beneath his open flannel, that old bucking bull tattoo. Under the thin veil of darkness, it's easy to convince yourself that it's brand new. That the poor-quality ink hasn't caused it to fade quicker than it should have. 

A kiss presses to your cheek. "What're ya thinkin'?" 

"A little mess never hurt anyone," you don't know if you're talking to him or yourself. Maybe both. 

You don't realize how close you are until your noses clash, knocking together as you squirm up to settle in his lap. His left hand finds its way to your hip, burning against your chilly skin. Doesn't do anything more than rest there, touching you for the sake of touching you. 

It's a bit crude, reaching down to pull your underwear to the side rather than pulling them off entirely. But then you're guiding him up, and his dripping tip is dragging through your folds, and you can't think about anything else. 

"You're just as bad as I am," Rhett's laugh is so much bigger than any of that distant thunder, rumbling through you in delicate waves. 

"Like this hasn't been a known fact for years," and for that statement of his alone, you're stringing this out even longer. Bringing him back up before he can begin to sink into you, selfishly rubbing him against your clit, sensitive from lack of attention.

Lightning flickers. Rhett's hips shift, slipping back down your cunt, stubbornly nudging against your entrance. Manages to lift himself enough to create a blooming pressure there, the very tip of him slipping inside. 

Fuck, you're still aching from the bit of fun you had before the rodeo. Tangled up on the couch, too wrapped up in each other to pay attention to the rapidly ticking clock. Or maybe the discomfort is from the severe lack of lube. Nothing but spit, precum, and your own wetness to soothe the drag of him as you begin to sink down on him.

"Mmph," Rhett's head tilts back, pale throat exposed. "How're you so—shit. How're you still so damn tight?"

On its own, something in your lower belly loosens, almost as if it didn't realize it was doing it in the first place. Allows you the fleeting courtesy of a breath of air before his tip fully slips into you. Heat jumps up your spine, swirling around in the back of your head. 

"I should ask you the same thing," your voice comes out weaker than what you anticipated, "why are you so damn big?"

And all that's done is make him laugh again. Nose nudging your cheek as he leans in to press another kiss to your lips, his smile too big for it to be anything more than a peck. But you want more, chasing after him as he tries to lean away, helpless to do anything but fall forward. 

Gravity quickens the glide of your body, his cock sinking further into you. The curve of him rubs into a set of nerves, never has taken very long for him to find them, thick length incessantly dragging against it. 

A heavy fist strikes the land to the west, the resounding boom washing over the surprised grunt that wrangles its way out of Rhett's throat. The only reason you catch note of it is from the way it rumbles against your bottom lip, pulling the corners of your mouth up into a giddy smile. 

All too quickly, you're fully seated in his lap, fitting against him like a puzzle piece. Bodies carved to fit seamlessly against one another, lost in the blending of limbs, tangling until you can no longer tell where one of you begins and the other ends. A shiver races up your spine, pussy involuntarily spasming around his thick cock. 

"Didn't think I was gonna be the one gettin' ridden tonight," there's no reason for Rhett to be grinning up at you like this, with that healing split in his lip and those glistening eyes. Mesermized. As if he's taking in the sight of a precious painting lost for centuries. 

If you didn't know any better, you would think he was looking at the stars behind your head.

But he's only looking at you. 

It's got you lifting yourself a little too quickly; haven't even begun to adjust to his size yet. "You'd better hope it lasts longer than eight seconds."

Something sharp digs into your knee as you lift yourself, but it's impossible to pay attention to. So fucking full of him that your every racing thought has wrapped itself around the shape of his name. Oh, and it's not helped by the burning drag of his cock; a little too big for you to be riding him without lube. 

You're sinking back down when his hips lips, snapping up into you midway. Fuck, you're burning alive out here. Growing wetter from that little motion alone, that tingling heat climbing your spine and settling into your cheeks. 

"Impatient," you're huffing, lacking any bit of the conviction you'd hoped you would have.

"Them bulls buck, y'know," that smug grin of his falters as your hips swivel, readjusting yourself, "'m just playin' my part."

So annoying. 

So, so annoying.

Something about the change in an angle has him rubbing up against something he hadn't before, air catching in your throat as he presses directly into it. Shit, it's too early for your thighs to be shivering like they are, and it's all you can do to flatten your palms against his chest, forcing yourself to remain upright. 

"Keep—mmh keep doin' that." Stupid cowboys and their stupidly pretty whines. Has no right to be squeezing his eyes shut and shaking his head back and forth like he's trying to shake the feel of you out of his head.

And he just keeps rubbing against those little nerves, over and over and over. Stars sparkle across your vision, so many of them that you can no longer tell which hang high in the sky and which stem from your own imagination. Whether or not that's thunder or the hammer of your own heart, you're not even remotely sure. 

A stray hand meanders up your back, his touch so feather-light and ticklish that it's got you arching away from it. Unintentionally angling him into those soft little spots even more, your pussy clenching around him so tightly that you nearly freeze in place. 

You hardly feel yourself reaching for his wrists. Only recognize the feel of them in your grasp, thick and strong from years of manual labor, yet so willing to be pinned over his head. Falling into place like they always longed to be there.

"Fuck," Rhett's teeth sink into his bottom lip, stifling a noise that you wish you could have caught, "so fuckin' pretty on top of me." 

"And here I thought you were marveling at the storm," panting into the open air like a damn dog, breathless all too quickly. As if the slow rise and fall of your hips is simply too much for you to handle. 

Rhett's biceps flex, muscle visibly rippling as the thunder crackles. "Nah," grunting, his tongue darting out to wet his lips, "could watch y' ride me all fuckin' day." 

God, what is it about sex that makes him so fucking talkative?

Your hand darts out to the side. Blindly patting the blankets until you find one of the candies that spilled out of the container, shoving it past his parted lips before he can utter another word.

His mouth wobbles. Torn between a smile and something he wants to say. Neither manages to win the upper hand, instead beaten by a secret third thing. Because now he's sitting up, wearily bracing himself on that good arm, eyes falling shut midway as he leans in to kiss you. Knocking into each other so abruptly that your teeth audibly clatter.

But the wind is twirling past you with a kind of ferocity that wasn't there before, and in the back of your mind you're convinced that you've inadvertently caused it to happen. Distant storm falling into a rage as you tumble forward, forearms resting on either side of his head, hands in his hair, drowning yourself in the lemonade and candy that paints his tongue. 

Something sparks behind your eyes. "Rhett..."

He doesn't respond. Doesn't need to. The lift of his hips is more than enough of a reply, so sudden that it rips a sharp noise out of your throat. A decade of bull riding has made him too fucking strong for his own good, pushing up into you with devastating ease. 

This...thisis something. His breath tickling your skin. Your chest against his, nails scraping at his scalp. Helpless to do nothing but whine as he brushes against those little spots once more. Long, heaving motions that jostle you with every thrust, your eyes already struggling to remain open. 

"Rhett," repeating yourself like a broken record, panting into his ear like you're getting paid to do it.

The ground shakes. Lightning strikes somewhere in the distance, volting through the soil, up through your knees, and into your belly. Or maybe it's not lightning at all, simply the dizzying sensation of his cock driving up into you with a sickeningly wet noise. You can't help the way your legs squeeze impossibly tight around him. Can't stop the familiar tingle from settling into your core, spreading down into your thighs. 

You don't remember when the babbling started, but you can hear the sound of your name twisting through the air, chanting beneath his breath like a melody. His prickly cheek rubs against yours, and you just know that it's going to leave your skin raw, but you can't bring yourself to pull away. 

"'m gonna..." the rasp of his voice has you clamping tighter around him. A whimper slips off his tongue. "I—"

He doesn't need to finish that sentence. One look is all you need. 

You are, too. 

There's no need for you to reach down and touch yourself. His cock alone is enough to have you crumbling like a house of cards, burying your head into the crook of his neck, unable to muffle every little noise he punches out of you. Downright merciless as he rubs into those sensitive little nerves over and over and over and—

A ghost of wind is enough to push you over the edge. Tumbling over the edge and into the abyss, the world around you going quiet as you cum around his cock. Not a sound breaking past your lips, head swirling round and round until you can no longer tell which way is up. 

You're only distantly aware of the sudden stalling of Rhett's hips, pushing up into you so hard that he lifts you up. Can't miss the sensation of his cock twitching, his cum spilling into your pussy, rope after rope of it, so much that you think you can feel it pooling inside of you.

A drop of rain hits your shoulder. Cold. Biting into your skin with its sharp little teeth. 

The storm is so much closer now, thick clouds hanging overhead, blocking out the stars entirely. Electricity arcs across the sky as you begin to lift yourself up before your body is even ready to move. 

Rhett's cock slips out of you with an awkward noise, slapping audibly against his belly. Shit, you can already feel it beginning to spill out, don't know how you plan to get home without making a mess of your clothes. 

A groan sounds from below you. "So fuckin' full of it," the soft tip of his cock presses back into you, and you don't need to look to know that Rhett's eyes are fixated on the obscene sight of his cum leaking out of you. "God damn."

"Well, don't...mmh, don't keep pushing it in," but your complaint is futile, and you're making no effort to try and stop him. No point in it, you suppose; it's not as if you can clean yourself up out here. 

He chuckles at that. You think the stars have secretly gathered in his eyes, sparkling in those deep blues. "Can't do nothin' 'bout it now."

"Hold on!" Your giggles echo through the kitchen, wet feet stumbling across the tile. "I can't move that fast!" 

But Rhett's hand keeps tugging you along, sliding around the corner and into the hallway. Water pours from his hair and shoulders, speckling across the floor, leaving a trail in his wake. A mess that you'd complain about if not for your own soaked clothes, so cold that you've gone entirely numb. 

Lights flicker overhead, power fading in and out as the storm rages on. Rain striking the windows so hard that you can hear it, even as you fumble down the hallway. Wet socks slide against the tile as you try to turn, your shoulder bumping into Rhett's. His hip smacks into the door frame. Your feet tangle. 

"We ain't never doin' that again," he's stumbling toward the shower, reaching for the knobs. Twists until he can't crank the hot water up any hotter. Something, anything to melt away the ice that's about to freeze over your skin.

You reach for the hem of your shirt, the fabric clinging to you like a second skin. "I thought you liked having sex outside."

"I do," he pauses, pulling the material over your head. It audibly hits the floor, the beginnings of yet another mess. "I don't like downpours 'n hail!" 

The red mark on his forehead is only just beginning to bloom, sure to darken as the night rages on. It's a little too high up to be blamed on a bar fight, but you're sure he'll find a way to play it off when his momma asks about what happened. 

Your pants are on the floor before he can finish getting his flannel off, not a care in the world for where they land. Your mind only has enough room for one thought at a time: hot water. A cloud of steam greets you as you step into the shower. The water has yet to hit your skin, and yet you can already feel yourself melting, the heat eating away at the invisible frost that has long since settled upon you. 

It's almost too hot, the spray seeming to burn little holes straight through your chest, and your toes sting. Such a sharp contrast compared to the heat that you wonder if it'll eat you alive.

A firm chest presses against your naked back, familiar arms settling loosely around your waist. "Y' jus' gonna leave me behind like that?" His attempt at sounding irritated doesn't miss your ears, but it dies before he can finish the sentence. Isn't helped by the kisses that appear on your shoulder.  

"If you can ride bulls, then you can climb into the shower by yourself," leaning back into him, your eyes fall closed. It might be the first time you've blinked since the rain began to fall, starting the moment you'd begun gathering the blankets into your arms. Mother Nature's punishment for not taking her warnings seriously.

Rhett hums, the vibration tickling the side of your neck. "Then." Kiss. "I should probably." Kiss. "Tell you." Kiss. "That we didn't bring any clean clothes..." Kiss. "Or towels."

...the towels. 

Your groan bounces off the tile walls and out into the hallway, probably even ventures past the closet and out into the living room. Why did it never occur to you to grab towels and clothes before you climbed in here?

"We'll rock paper scissors it after we rinse off," it's the same solution he uses for every conflict, but you find yourself agreeing with the idea anyway. 

He loses. Never deviates from playing rock, even when he knows full well that you will forever play paper. You're not sure if he's waiting for the day that you crack and play scissors or if he's intentionally losing, but you've got the sneaking suspicion it's the latter. He's way too content to dart into the hallway for towels, returning with more than either of you could possibly need.

"Did you grab every towel in the closet?" You laugh as you pull one of them around your shoulders, hugging it to yourself like a blanket. It's too damn cold in this house.

"No," then, grinning, "I left one behind."

He's gone before you've finished drying off, comes back one more time with your favorite pajamas in his hand, then disappears into the darkness of the house. Where he's gone, you're not sure; it's hard to tell when he never turns any of the lights on, navigating based on muscle memory alone. 

But you can hear the television turning on, your forgotten movie picking up right where it left off. 

"Rhett?" Calling out as you mosey out of the bathroom.

Damp carpet squishes beneath your feet, frigid and not at all what you expected to find yourself standing on. Only seems to get worse as you make your way down the hall, hopelessly soaked with rainwater. The old fan is already out, cool air blowing across the worst of it, licking at your heels when you step past.

Rhett's pale shoulders stick out like a sore thumb in the living room. All too visible as he moves around, hands audibly patting something down on the couch. Blankets. The ones off the bed, out of the closet, hell, he's grabbed the decorative one off the rocking chair. All to build an oversized nest, high around the edges, like he's trying to keep something out. So focused on the task at hand that he doesn't notice you until it's too late.

"Jesus!" His naked back jumps away from you as if burned by your kiss.

"Watcha buildin'?" Your speech mimicking his just a little more than usual, already leaning in to press a second kiss in between the knobs of his spine. Rhett twists in your arms before you can land a third, the swell of his chest mere inches from your lips now.

You'll smooch him here, too. 

"Our last line of defense," his giggle rides on the coattails of another roll of thunder. "Jus' in case that storm knocks out the power 'n steals our heat."

You don't realize his arms are around you until he's falling toward the couch, taking you right along with him, landing in a messy heap on top of the blankets. A box of candy rattles behind your back. Someone bumps into the remote, the movie pausing on the television screen. 

A piece of the candy bounces off your chin, narrowly misses landing back in Rhett's hand. You find it squished between your chests, pushing it between his parted lips. 

"Y' gonna keep force feedin' me candy?" He asks, that little candy rolling across his tongue as he speaks. Wonder if you'll be able to taste it if you kiss him. 

You lean in, nuzzling your noses together. "It's my new party trick."

His eyes roll so hard that you hope they'll get stuck. 

[changenameno]

Fingerblast PART 2

(Complete, link for the first part, down below ⬇️)

Summary:

It’s the middle of summer and therefore incredibly hot. Of course right then something had to be wrong with your AC. How fortunate for you that a handyman can come right over…

Pairing: Syverson x Short Fem. Reader

Warnings: 18+, MDNI, cursing, explicit description of sex, thirst trap named Sy, teasing, size kink, chasing?, choking (if you squint?), p in v (use of y/n = Your first name)

Word count: 3K

A/N: Okay here goes my first attempt at writing smut…This is way longer than I intended it to become, whoops. Honestly this just came to me while stumbling over a song (aka the title of this specific fic 🤣). Also I think this reads a little like a bad porn video SORRY…but anyway….here goes nothing🙈😅….

It’s not proofread, any mistakes are my own. Please be kind, comments/reblogs are very appreciated…Thank you❤️✨

!Syverson is not my own creation (unfortunately)! And the song/lyrics don’t belong to me either!

🍑🍑🍑🍑🍑🍑🍑🍑🍑🍑🍑🍑🍑🍑🍑🍑🍑🍑

(In case you’ve missed PART 1)

PART 2

Sy was caught off guard but only for a second, then he set his body into motion. Like a raging bull he chased you up the stairs, not even three steps behind you. Hearing his thundering footsteps approaching and fast, you squealed.

You turned to your left, throwing your bedroom door open, darting into the room without stopping. Sy was right at your heels, bulldozing into the room so close behind that he simply tackled you onto the huge bed. Making you fall, face first into the soft mattress, which smothered your surprised shriek. His body covered you wholly, making you feel even smaller underneath his massive frame. Lying there and trying to catch your breath, you swore you felt him harden against you.

Well truth be told he finally had you where he so desperately wanted you.

Reluctantly he let you up enough, so you could turn around, now facing his bearded face which had carnal hunger written all over it. “Caught you…Now, what am I gonna’ do with you darlin’?”

Seizing the opportunity you grabbed his head and pressed your lips against his. Sy reciprocated immediately, grabbing your hips and pushing you up and against him. Hissing into the kiss once you crossed your ankles behind his back, gently rocking your hips. He let go of you, in favour of crawling on all fours up onto the bed; so he could lie his whole body down comfortably, while you clung to him.

Sy let your back slowly down onto the mattress, whereas you were still rubbing your drenched centre against his cargo shorts, surely leaving a wet spot. Only now coming up for air from the heated kiss you two were sharing, you breathed,” Fu-uck, please Sy I need you. Mmmh,” ending on a mewl, because he decided to rut against you right then. The unexpected pressure, stimulating your clit just like you needed it.

“Right with ya…” he rumbled. Without further ado, he took a hold of your flimsy dress and pulled it off, over your head, throwing it onto the floor.

Now his big sweaty body was towering over you, making you feel all small vulnerable, wearing only your white bra and matching panties.

That changed, as Sy’s lips attacked your neck at once, making his way down to the valley of your heaving breasts, all the while his beard scratched your soft skin in the best ways. Struggling to lay still, you squirmed at every kiss he pressed against your own sweat drenched skin.

You felt divine under his rough fingertips as he grabbed your lush thighs, opening your legs wider, so he could continue kissing down your body. Naturally you let your legs fall open, uncrossing your ankles, and digging your fingers into the bedspread. Sy stopped when he reached the waistband of your panties, both his hands splayed over your rib cage, fingertips lightly grazing your breasts beneath your bra.

Liking over his lips while resting his bearded chin on your stomach he looked up, where your eyes met. As blown out as his pupils were at the moment, you could only see a small ring of his normally bright blue eyes. “You look beautiful,” he rasped. Smiling down at him, you sat up slightly so you could gently run your hand over his head then down to cup his chin. “Mmh I’d say the same, but I can only see your handsome face so far,” you answered just as affectionately.

Sy understood you right away, almost falling off the bed, in his hurry to get undressed. Somehow he still managed not to.

Back on the bed, only wearing his briefs, you admired his bare, hairy chest pulling him down for another heated kiss. His body hair, lightly scratching over your smooth skin, ensured that you felt every inch of him even more intensely.

Moaning into his mouth, as his tongue invaded yours and began to explore you thoroughly. Breaking the kiss to demand what your aching centre needed most. “Please, just…need you.”

“Bet you’re soaking wet for me, aren’t ya? Wanna have a taste first.” Shaking your head no, he looked at you expectedly, when you didn’t elaborate he continued, “Darlin’ use your words, what do you want?”

“I…just…I need you now. Next time you can…you know,” stumbling over your own words already, even though he hadn’t done much yet, was an enormous boost for his ego.

He thoroughly enjoyed making you squirm, so he smirked, “Next time I can what?”

It was your turn to glare at the amused man kneeling between your legs. Impatiently you snarled, “For fuck’s sakes, if you don’t get to it, right now…I promise that you’ll never get a taste!”

Sy’s smirk only widened in response, then he suddenly pulled you down by your ankles, until you lay on your back. “Still gotta prepare you though.” With one swift movement he yanked your ruined panties down and off your legs. Making you mewl at the sudden air hitting your bare heat. He looked down, hungrily staring at your sopping folds. “On second thought, you don’t need much preparing, do ya? Could probably slide right in.”

Feeling a little embarrassed at how turned on you had become, you tried hiding your face in the pillow. “Ah none of that darlin’. Wanna see your face, when I make you come.” His hand gently turned your face towards his, smiling softly down at you. “That’s right, eyes on me, y/n.”

Sy didn’t let you protest any further, as one thick finger slowly dipped between your folds. Running down to your clenching, dripping hole. Without warning he pushed two of his fingers inside, stretching you deliciously and making you bow your back, gasping. “Nnhg…”

“That’s a good girl. Takin’ my fingers so well.” To ease a bit of the tension in his own briefs he tried adjusting the tent within. Exhaling heavily when you clamped down on his fingers, hard. You couldn’t help it, having caught a glimpse of his huge tent. Well huge was still somehow an understatement, but you trusted that Sy knew what he was doing.

He cupped your pussy and at the same time spread his thick fingers, stretching you carefully. Making you chase the friction of his palm against your little pearl. He started moving his fingers in and out of you, though at the slowest pace know to men. In an attempt to get him to go faster, you bucked against his rough hand, trying to spur him on. “Please, need more. Please Sy.”

For the first time today, he quit his teasing and plunged a third finger in, moving them a lot quicker than previously. He had you moaning in no time, falling apart on his fingers. Sy managed to hit that special spot dead on, every time his fingers stretched your warm canal. “Yeah right there. Right there, don’t stop….” You felt it, your release was just around the corner, starting to tremble. Just as you were ready to see stars, the hand between your legs disappeared.

Your eyes snapped open, enraged that your orgasm had been stolen from you, you sat up, “What…no…why I was nearly there!?”

That smug fucker just sat back on his heels, sucking his fingers into his mouth and liking your juices off. The obscene slurping sounds he made while he enjoyed tasting you, had your insides feeling like liquid lava.

Deliberately slow he pulled his fingers back out, wiping them on the bedspread, staring you down with his sapphire blue orbs. Mirth and lust equally displayed within those same eyes, “Delicious. Also I ain’t let you come, unless it’s on my cock, understood?”

Too stunned to answer you gaped down, as his cock twitched within his briefs. Instantly a hand grabbed your neck, pushing you back down onto the mattress.

Startled by the sudden roughness, both your hands wrapped around the muscles of his sturdy forearm, looking up at him. Sy rumbled, “Do you understand?” His deep thundering voice paired with the hand lightly choking you, made you repeatedly squeeze around nothing. Craving his touch all the more, now that he wasn’t going to use his fingers to get you off.

“Yes. Yes I understand.” His hand let go, as did your hands, letting them relax next to your head. He was rather pleased with your response, so he let his enormous paw wander behind your back, nimbly opening your bra and getting rid of your last barrier.

Not being able to hold back any longer he took off his own briefs, throwing them on the ground as well. You looked absolutely breath-taking, lying completely bare before him, innocently looking up. Then your eyes fell down, gasping at the erect thickness between his thighs. Sy smiled proudly, promptly beginning to slide his own hand up and down his shaft. Where at the tip a drop pre-cum had already formed.

You watched and whimpered, “Please, please…”, wanting nothing more than to have is cock stretching you to your limit.

Not wanting to wait any longer himself he climbed between your legs. Cock in hand he tapped it lightly on your swollen clit, reducing you to nothing more than a squirming, whining mess.

Then he finally had mercy on you, brushing over your drenched opening once, twice and then he dipped inside. Holding your breath, as he fed inch by inch of his monstrosity into your tight little cunt.

“So fu-ucking tight.” He pressed through his teeth, hands digging into your sides to hold you in place and to make moving forward easier. Sy wasn’t even halfway in and you already felt incredibly stuffed. Every nook and cranny was filled up.

Apparently the last bit of his patience had run out, because he tilted his hips back and trusted forward with such force he sheathed himself to the hilt. You whimpered, arms now slung around his torso and fingernails digging into his back, making him grunt in return.

“Sh-shh that’s it, nice deep breaths darlin’, you’re takin’ me so well.” Closing your eyes, you tried concentrating on his soothing words and the gentle motion of his hands running up and down your sides, to prevent becoming overwhelmed by the fullness.

At last your pussy began pulsing, little by little growing accustomed to the way he stretched you so ridiculous far apart.

Sy noted your face slowly relaxing under his ministrations, but he’d wait until you gave him the go, and only then would he move.

When you thought it didn’t feel like he was splitting you in half anymore, you opened your eyes. He was looking at you intensely, blue eyes seemingly melting as his right hand reached up, caressing your cheek. “Are you alright? We can stop if it’s too much,” he whispered leaning down, to be yet closer to you, meaning every word he just uttered.

Your hands glided up, over his shoulder blades and to his head, pushing him down further so you could kiss him again. This time it was a slow sensual kiss, without haste just feeling the other’s lips and moving in tandem. Once you separated from each other, you whispered back, “I’m fine…and don’t you dare stop now, when I conquered your mighty beast.” His dark chuckle send vibrations down to where you were intimately connected, making you sheer crazy with need.

“Well then let’s see if you truly conquered it, shall we darlin’?” Sy snatched you up, gripping your behind and pressing you impossibly closer to his body. You crossed your ankles behind his back anew, holding on for dear life as that bear of a man pulled all the way out just to ram back into your tight, hot tunnel. And just as you thought he couldn’t go any deeper.

He repeated that powerful motion again and again. Resounding groans breaking free from his mouth while yours gaped open, letting whine after whine escape you.

Sy nuzzled your neck, making you hear and feel every one of his delicious grunts and lewd comments. You weren’t even able to respond, let alone string more than two words together at the moment.

He repeatedly fucked his massive cock inside your pussy, keeping his pace like a sledgehammer. “That’s right, made for my cock, darlin’.”

You just needed a little push and then you’d undoubtedly fall over the edge. As if he could read your mind, the hand that wasn’t grabbing your rear, smoothly slid between your dripping bodies.

As soon as his hand reached its destination, rubbing circles over your clit, the band within you instantly snapped. Gushing around him, your legs shaking, clamping down on Sy’s cock. “Aaah fuck, that’s it Darlin’, come for me.” His grip on your ass, turned near bruising, slowly but surely losing his pace and rhythm.

Wanting to get him off, just as hard as he had you; you clenched your slightly oversensitive cunt and purred into his ear,” Yeah, so deep, please… come inside me.”

“Fuck…”, that did him in and with one last stroke, you could feel his seed filling you up. His body all taunt for a second before he relaxed. Sy kissed the side of your neck, as the last bit of his cum entered you. He let out a deep sigh,” You were…that was…,” struggling to find his words, he lifted you off of his cock. Continuing to muzzle your neck and placing soft kisses on your skin. Now lying outstretch on your back, you could feel his seed spilling down your pussy, making you shiver slightly.

“Mmmh yeah that was amazing, I agree.” You answered his unfinished sentence, a smile creeping onto your face.

Eyes closed, you felt the mattress dip as Sy moved off the bed. You heard the tap running, when he returned, you opened your eyes. He’d a washcloth in hand, tilting his head in question. Nodding at him, he carefully brought the cool cloth between your legs, cleaning you and removing your conjoined fluids. Once he was done, he sat it down on the nightstand to be put away later.

“Love, could ya scoot over a little?” Worn out, you rolled sluggishly to lay on your right side, still just as naked as him. The mattress dipped again, as Sy snuggled up behind you, spooning you with his overheated body.

“So how’d ya like it?”

Turning slightly in his arms, to look at the smug expression he wore on his face, you mumbled,” Mmh well, I was a bit sceptical at first. But you? Roleplaying as my handyman, was fun I must admit.”

“Told ya,” he pressed another kiss against your temple as he carried on,” doesn’t have to be anything crazy but roleplaying can be fun from time to time.”

You turned back around just enjoying the closeness of your husband’s body pressed against yours. “Mmh.”

It had been his idea to try something a little bit more elaborate in bed for your anniversary. His best friends had actually kind of encouraged him with this, which was why you were so reluctant to try, at first. As you said, at first you’d been very sceptical but you couldn’t really say no to Sy, so you promised to try something on your special day. The little details he poured in to make it feel even more real, astounded you.

Thinking about it, the red pickup truck sprung back in the forefront of your consciousness. “Wait, one question…that red pickup, whose is that?”

You felt him chuckle, “Ah, that. Yeah I might have borrowed it from Walt.”

“What? Walter? Like in Walter Marshall?”, you were so dumbfounded that the detective, out of all his friends would drive such a car, that you turned around in Sy’s arms, to check if he was joking.

“Yeah.”

“What do you mean yeah? It’s red, as far as I know he’d never…”, he interrupted you, “Ah that, yeah, he made a mistake orderin’ it or somethin’.”

Sy moved his arm, so you could lie your head down comfortably on his bloated biceps.

“Okay, well at least that makes sense. More than him intentionally picking out a red car anyway.” You settled back, eyes closed, satisfied with how your special day hand gone so far.

Until one more burning question popped up and you reopen your eyes. Tilting your head back to take in Sy’s relaxed face, having closed his eyes as well. “That song? You know the one that played when you got out of the car?” Apparently amused by your line of questioning, his lips turned up into a smile. Without opening his eyes, he mumbled back, “Yeah what about it?”

“I never heard a song as crude as that? And I never heard you play it, ever?”

One of his flaming blue eyes blinked at you, light crinkles forming around it as he smiled still,” Don’t wanna rat anyone out. But ya know, August sent it to me today and I thought I’d give it a try.”

It was your turn to snigger,” Of course, who else. Do you only have lewd guy friends?”, ending your question on a snort.

That had Sy open his other eye as well, both showing his clear amusement,” Well, ya know, you’re the one that married me, darlin’. What does that say ‘bout you?”

Making you laugh,” True. Also I think life would be a lot more boring, without our knuckle-headed friends.”

“Sure thing.”

After a short pause, he put his other arm around you, pulling you into a more comfortable embrace, “I love you, darlin’.”

Completely content, you let your tired eyes fall shut, whispering back,” I love you, too.”

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[zh-lele]

12-7 ROOM (part one)

Surviving a week to Donghyuck's charms and jokes can't be so hard... Worst case scenario, you end up completely falling for your brother's best friend.

▪︎Pairing: brother's best friend!Hyuck x fem reader

▪︎Genres: poor attempt at rom com, fluff

▪︎Warnings: alcohol consumption, profanity suggestive jokes

▪︎Word count (part 1): 6613 words

playlist | extra content: mc's IG stories

Author's note: Hi every1!!! The fluffy Hyuck fic is here, finally. I decided I'll be posting it in two parts because it ended up being way longer than I planned, and since it's written in the format of timestamps. It barely has any conflict, so I was afraid it would get boring or tedious if I posted everything in just one go. So, yeah, part 2 coming next week. Also, I changed Hyuck's major (it's physics now) for plot purposes lol I figured it would be easier for me to write him if we share majors. Also !! I didn´t proof read it but I will during the week lol sorry. Okay, tysm for all the support on the preview !!! enjoy the fic bye !!!!

Tuesday, 10:34 p.m.

Mark moves around the small apartment urgently cleaning up. He makes sure to pick up and throw into the garbage bag between his hands every empty Red Bull can that his roommate has left lying around. On the old sofa rests his guitar, and on the little table in the living room his lyrics notebooks and Donghyuck's physics notes.

"Mark," Donghyuck calls for him, to which the older one only responds with a small sound, indicating that he has his attention—partially, as he's still concentrating on his duty of getting all ready for your arrival—, "Your food is getting cold."

Mark lets out an exasperated sigh while getting all his belongings inside his backpack and his guitar in the case. "I'll just order something once I'm at the studio."

"Wait, you're leaving?"

"Yeah, I need to get some work done with TY. And y/n's arriving at any time so this place has to be tidy and clean and–" Mark stops all motions of arranging the mattress you're going to sleep on on the living room floor, to fix his eyes on his friend. "Hyuck, could you like, put on a t-shirt or something?"

Small drops of water fall from Donghyuck's wet hair onto his naked torso, fresh from the warm shower he just took. The young man does nothing but questions his best friend with a lopsided smile as he finishes his bowl of ramen, sitting at the counter in front of Mark's—that remains full and cold by now.

"What, you think y/n's gonna be scared of all this handsomeness?"

Mark's face is expressionless while looking at Donghyuck, who's feeling himself to add to the point. And Mark has missed you a lot, but he thinks that the faster he gets a break from his chaotic roommate, the better; he can't wait to have a week free of the jokes and headaches Donghyuck causes him because Donghyuck will have you to annoy. Even when he will still be working, to Mark, that sounds pretty much like a vacation.

"Nah, dude. It's fucking cold, you'll get sick."

"You will get sick if you don't get anything to eat as soon as you make it to work," Donghyuck answers back as he gets up from his chair and puts his favorite Michael Jackson t-shirt on. "Promise me you'll order."

"Yeah, I promise," Mark sounds sincere. After a quick hug and a few pats on each other's back, Mark is opening the front door ready to leave for a late-night music session. "Please receive y/n well for me–

"Y/n!"

Screams and laughs from both you and your brother fill the little apartment, as you greet and hug him after almost four months without seeing each other. Just in time, is what Donghyuck thinks while observing the cute interaction, and gently caressing his belly from underneath the t-shirt because, well, he is confident but—even though he has known you for years and you've shared many situations—, he's not confident enough around you to show himself with nothing on like that. At least not yet.

His face lights up as soon as he sees you extend your arms in his direction, and Donghyuck manages to squeeze you into a warm hug and spin you in the air while the both of you laugh.

Your brother says his goodbyes, and Donghyuck tells him there's a chance they could meet up at Johnny's later, in case he wants to join in after work.

"Alright, I'll get there with Taeyong later then."

He waves to both of you and closes the front door, leaving you alone with his roommate.

"Take a relax, bro," he offers you to sit at the counter and you laugh after hearing the famous line after months. You observe him filling a cup with water and placing it in front of you before speaking again. "Want some ramen?"

"Hell yeah. I'm starving."

"Let me heat it for you."

But he was already on it even before you answered. Donghyuck knows well he's very good at turning the simple dish into a delicious meal, and that it's one of your favorite things to share since you two met.

You wouldn't say it was love at first sight, but maybe adoration since the first encounter. Only weeks after your brother moved to start studying, he invited you over because he was missing home too much. And Donghyuck wouldn't be his apartment buddy until a year after, but they already frequented the same group of friends. The two of you were standing awkwardly in a corner at Taeyong's birthday party, and ended up at your brother's because you were hungry, eating ramen together: his secret recipe (that wasn't mysterious at all) that included tomatoes and scrambled eggs and that he only made for 'real special situations'.

Donghyuck sets the bowl in front of you, the tomato scrambled noodles and eggs making your mouth water and curve in a smile. A ray of sunshine gets on the chair beside you even though it's almost midnight, and makes you feel at home, warming you even though it's freezing outside.

"So, how's school?" You start talking with a mouth full of ramen, lips moisturized with its sauce that makes Donghyuck smile when he sets his eyes on them. His look makes you blush, but you blame it on the spiciness of the Hot Chicken Spicy x2 package of noodles that he prepared for you. "Hyuck, this is burning my mouth."

"Well, don't put so many noodles in your mouth at once!" Donghyuck brings the glass of water to your hands and you accept it immediately. Its freshness somehow makes you forget the mess that Hyuck's eyes on your filthy ramen lips could have caused. 

Maybe surviving a week living with the guy you like (who is your brother's best friend, which makes things a lot more complicated) will be harder than you thought.

"School's been kicking my ass," the boy continues and you nod your head, sadly sharing the sentiment. "I started my winter break last Friday, but I have to take a final in two weeks so I'll be studying. And Mark doesn't get a winter break."

"Motherfucking TY, won't let him rest."

"That's what I say!" He agrees with you, his eyes widening and sighing in exasperation. "Both of them are workaholics. Won't stop working on their music even for a week."

"Yeah. And knowing Mark, he'll try to make the most of his time since he doesn't have to teach at school for two weeks."

You knew in advance that your brother wouldn't be home much despite your visit, however extraordinary it may be. He warned you about it, that he would be focusing 100% on Taeyong's album, but that he would definitely try to take advantage of the free time to go out with you, or just chill together at home. On the other hand, Mark assured you that Donghyuck would be very happy to spend the time he wouldn't be there with you. The idea gave you butterflies in your stomach when your brother texted it to you; some emojis of a mischievous smile followed the message but you didn't know how to interpret it, since Mark is terrible at texting and pretty much a boomer.

"But don't worry!" Donghyuck speaks after a brief pause. "I'll study early in the mornings while you sleep, then we'll have the afternoons to hang out, and Mark can join whenever he's free. He'll make time for it, I'm sure."

Somehow, the thought of Donghyuck getting up early during his break to have the afternoons free to spend time with you makes your heart melt a little. You lower your head, trying to hide the inevitable smile on your lips, but you fail wildly. You decide to adhere to Donghyuck's plan, nodding and showing the tight-lipped smile that spreads to his face.

"Good." He nods as well. "So, you wanna go to Johnny's later?" Donghyuck asks, his thumb pointing in the direction of the door.

"Yeah, sure." You get up from the kitchen table to start doing your dishes at the sink. "I'm excited to see the boys after so long."

"And we have some new additions to the group."

Donghyuck's voice reaches your ears from behind. You're quickly cleaning the single bowl and glass you used, so you finish and turn around to keep listening to him face-to-face. Donghyuck picks up on his monologue. 

"There's Jungwoo. He's living with Jaehyun and Doyoung and he's about to finish doing vet in college. And it's funny, because he really looks and acts like a doggie, and he's doing vet," Donghyuck finishes the sentence, looking at you with an expression that suggests 'Can you believe that?'.

His silliness makes you laugh, which encourages Donghyuck to continue sharing his first impressions of his new friends. "Then there's Yuta. He came from Japan and opened a café on the first floor of the building where Johnny and Taeyong live, and that's how they met. He's a little cold with me," Donghyuck shrugs at it, yet you can tell in his expression how he gets discouraged when he thinks about that situation. "But he's not cold with Mark. And Mark is, I don't know, he's obsessed with Yuta." There is a brief silence in which Donghyuck only looks into your eyes with a super serious face. "I hate that."

And you burst into laughter. You don't need to ask Donghyuck if he's jealous, because you know for a fact that he very much is. As soon as he doesn't get all the attention, he gets annoying. Don't you dare not answer one of the silly cat reels he sends on Instagram or he will start texting you things like "Pay attention to me" or "Answer or I'll get sad." So you know how it can be. He doesn't get annoyed over the Baekhyun posts he shares with you because you always reply to them. Donghyuck might get jealous of Baekhyun too, but he won't show that to you.

"Don't worry, Hyuck." You circle the island to stand next to him and try to comfort him, one of your hands caressing circles on his back. He quickly seeks comfort by resting his head on your shoulder, and you can notice his slightly wet hair smells like green apple and cinnamon, like baby shampoo. "You're Mark's best friend. The things you've been through together, he won't get through again with anyone else. That's what's special about you two."

"You're right, y/n," he agrees while getting his head off your shoulder. "None of them will ever know Mark ran out of toilet paper at a party once and he sacrificed a sock to clean his-"

"Oh my fucking God" you cut him off before he can finish, not wanting to hear any of it. "Gross! Some things are better kept as a secret, Hyuck! I'll go change."

"But we are like a family!" he screams as you get out of the kitchen and into Donghyuck and Mark's room to get ready for Johnny's house. "Sharing those things helps us get closer!"

The walls are thin, so you don't bother answering Donghyuck from the room. "Honestly, Hyuck, I don't really care where my brother's butt has been or whatever. Let's get closer by sharing some drinks at Johnny's."

Wednesday, 01:47 a.m.

"So, how did you two meet?" Yuta asks, taking up the free space next to you on the couch and passing you two cans of beer. Exactly what you need after three rounds of karaoke with Johnny and Doyoung that are inexhaustible.

They're still going off strong in front of the TV, waiting for Mark to get back and join them in their madness.

"Oh, we're not together."

"Oh, that's for sure. I know you're not pulling any bitches, Hyuck."

Donghyuck laughs dryly at the Japanese boy, putting on his best expression of annoyance; tongue poking at his inside cheek and rolling his eyes, and he replies, "That's not true. I can pull anyone I want."

"Prove it," Yuta pushes him because he knows that Donghyuck is an easy-going person, and always a good target for a challenge.

Donghyuck quickly scans the room while you busy yourself taking a sip of your can, not wanting to get involved in Yuta's teasing, until he lands eyes on Jaehyun. He knows the boy loves him and is almost always up for some of his affection.

"Jaehyun's not an option," Yuta adds, the always good observant, and Donghyuck sighs very audibly before throwing his head back on the couch.

But he composes himself quickly to ask, turning slightly to you with his arm still firm around your shoulders. "Would you get with me? Hypothetically?"

“Are you asking me because I’m the only girl in the room?” you question him with a raise of your brows.

“Nah, you’re my first option,” he replies with a subtle smile, eyes closing slightly into the shape of two crescent moons.

You like to think he truly has no idea the effect his words have on you, and that he's just messing with Yuta, trying to prove a point. Yet, you can't help feel the heat rise to your cheeks. A deep breath is all it takes you to ignore the intern butterflies and follow the conversation, as if you're not already imagining the thousand scenarios where you and Donghyuck are an established couple living with two dogs (you would like a cat but he's allergic) and a hamster.

“But I thought your first option was Jaehyun–”

“Just answer the question, y/n.”

“Alright, jeez…”

You roll your eyes and give yourself a moment to think. Would you get together with Hyuck, hypothetically? Considering the four-year crush you've had on your brother's best friend since the moment you met him, no, you wouldn't.

You would get with him for real. All of your friends back home said it's time you brave up and just confess to him. You better come back with the signed marriage papers, your best friend’s voice resonates in your head.

"I mean… Yes?" you answer by looking at Yuta, trying to avoid Donghyuck's eyes that you know are set on the blushed skin of your face. "I guess Hyuck is not a bad match," you finish with a shy shrug, sinking yourself deeper on the couch and taking another long drink.

Donghyuck smiles contentedly at your answer, his chest filling with confidence, and kisses you wet with beer on the forehead that gets you squeezed up to his body for a second. By the time he's done, you rest your head on his shoulder to return the affection, trying not to throw up all the butterflies and not noticing Yuta's knowing stare.

"Keyword: hypothetically. And I said 'Prove it.'" Yuta pushes a little more.

"Bro, you're so annoying." Donghyuck gets up from the couch exasperated, and almost makes you spill all your beer while trying to get you up with him. "What, you want us to make out?"

Yuta nods, crossing his arms and spreading his legs on the couch that he has all for himself now, challenging the younger boy.

"Sorry dude, we're not into exhibitionism."

Donghyuck takes your hand to drag you away from the living room, but you can still hear Yuta's laugh and the words the two you would end up choosing to ignore for the rest of the night.

"This is not how you're getting some, Hyuck! Don't say I didn't try to help you!"

Donghyuck's hand holding yours (or rather dragging you into the kitchen) feels embarrassingly good. Worth blushing and having your heart fastening inside your chest. Damn Donghyuck for making you feel like a teenager who had just exchanged looks with their highschool crush. And just when you needed a break from that ridiculous wave of emotions…

“What are you wearing!?” You hear Johnny’s voice coming out of the speakers, as he’s still holding the mic to his mouth while the instrumentals of his most iconic karaoke performance play on the back, A Flying Butterfly by YB.

Mark and Taeyong have arrived at the apartment and they have caught everyone's attention because Taeyong is wearing an inflatable T-Rex costume. Jungwoo is the first one to get to Taeyong with his mouth open in astonishment, an expressión that is quickly replaced with amusement as soon as he gets to hug and squeeze the dinosaur in his hands.

“Jungwoo, stop squeezing my butt!” Taeyong’s voice comes a little distorted from inside the costume, but it’s clear enough for everyone to laugh at his comment. “You're going to make it deflate!”

Jungwoo keeps looking at Taeyong in the costume as if he was a kid who just saw Santa; hugging the dinosaur and saying it feels perfect for cuddling. This is the moment you understand what Donghyuck meant when he said Jungwoo looks just like an excited doggie.

“Taeyong saw it online and got it because it was on sale a couple weeks ago,” Mark starts explaining to no one in particular. “But then he ordered it and we completely forgot about it, until it arrived at the studio tonight.”

“I put it on inside the elevator so I could surprise you guys,” Taeyong adds with a happy smile, unzipping the costume just for his head to come out of it, somehow making it look all more ridiculous. Now the T-Rex looks like he has a floating head right above his stomach.

“Yeah… We had to stop the elevator for some more time because getting it inflated was way harder than I thought,” your brother says as he watches Taeyong and Jungwoo struggle with each other, because Jungwoo desperately wants to get inside the costume too but Taeyong doesn’t want to stop wearing it just yet.

Yuta only judges them from where he’s still sitting on the couch, arms crossed while shaking his head. “I can’t believe you really spent money on this.” Yet his comment is followed by a laugh. It’s not as intense as Doyoung and Taeil’s, though, who have been laughing since Taeyong crossed the door, and haven’t missed the chance to film and take pictures of  him (and Jungwoo who still wouldn’t leave his side.)

"Alright so," Johnny says into the mic to attract everyone's attention. "Karaoke?"

The guys start to team up; some out of affinity or fun, others because they know they will definitely win the most points if they are grouped with certain people who hit all the notes on any song. Donghyuck, however, doesn't team up with anyone right away. He just stands in the middle of Johnny's and Taeyong's living room, watching Mark immediately cling to Yuta (who already had Jungwoo clinging to his other side.) He gestures towards your brother with arms crossed and a roll of his eyes. So, noticing his jealousy over your brother's recent preferences—jealousy that wasn't that hard to notice, he made it pretty obvious—and taking pity on your friend, you offer to team up with him.

"Wanna kick some ass together?" And you observe him playing hard to get. You're not a bad match for karaoke; you might not sing as well as Taeil or Doyoung, but you don't suck at it, and Donghyuck knows that very well. So when he starts doubting over his answer, you know he just wants to mess with you.

Suddenly Taeil is standing in front of the two of you, and Donghyuck, with an incredibly exaggerated face of astonishment, asks him:

"You wanna team up with us?!"

See, you knew he wasn't going to leave you out of his team.

Taeil only shrugs, as relaxed as always. "Sure."

Donghyuck squeezes his older friend in a hug that only gets a groan out of Taeil (and a little smile) before throwing an arm each on your shoulders, and screams to the rest. "Everybody, we got Moon Taeil!"

A punch from your fist to his ribs. A little groan followed by a laugh coming out of his mouth and a gentle squeeze on your shoulder. He's quick to correct himself.

"I got Moon Taeil and y/n! And we're gonna kick your butts!"

Thursday, 6:22 p.m.

It's been a long time since Donghyuck has had a girl in his room.

It's not like Yuta was right when he said he can't pull anyone, Donghyuck just hasn't had the time nor the energy. His break and free time to do whatever he wants just started. Even when Mark's not home most of the nights, it doesn't feel quite right to him to bring girls over to his shared bedroom when his roommate could come back at any time. And even if he had wished to bring any girls home during his break, he knew you would be here, so he didn't wanna do that either. (Not that he's bothered that he can't bring girls home because of you. Actually he'd rather have you inside his bedroom than anyone else.)

So when he's watching you laying on his bed, reading a silly high-school novel you got from your brother's library and quietly keeping him company while he studies, his heart-rate fastens and he feels his cheeks rise its temperature. He grows embarrassed when, after seeing you smile so sweetly at him when you catch his eyes on you, the only thing he can think of is leaving those stupid Relativity notes behind, running over to your spot and stealing a kiss from your lips.

Yet Donghyuck remains motionless at his desk. He inwardly curses when you get up and start walking toward him, and wishes you wouldn't ask why he's so red because he can't blame it on the weather—it's the middle of winter.

To his surprise, you're curious about a totally different thing.

"What are you doing with all these comics?" you ask, picking up one of his Flash comics and opening it to a spot that Donghyuck has marked with a post it.

"I'm taking a class about Quantum Physics and Relativity and catching up on some work," he starts explaining, all his romantic fantasies put on pause to focus on the second thing (after you) that occupies his mind the most these days: college.

He watches your eyes grow with interest after hearing the name of his class, and he can't deny he gets all excited thinking about the possibilities: of having a girlfriend that would hear him talk about what he's most passionate about all he wanted. Knowing how much you've always enjoyed hearing the new things he's learned and about his most recent investigations, and noticing his feelings for you have only increased since you came back, Donghyuck's mind wonders.

"You know in the comics Flash supposedly travels at speeds close to light, right?" He watches you nod. "And he throws this infinite mass punch… Well, in one of the comics Flash punches this villain, and his fist is so powerful the villain will fly all over the ocean and land in another continent," he keeps explaining. "What are the chances of this actually happening, analyzing it from the relativistic perspective? That's what I'm looking into."

"And have you arrived to any conclusions?"

"Yeah, I have actually." He stars searching for a specific piece of paper which displays a bunch of calculations and formulas that you don't understand at all, but they look awesome.

Donghyuck doesn't wait for a specific reaction, yet your response cracks him up a little.

"Could you explain this for me? Dummy level?" you ask wrinkling your nose. Donghyuck wants to kiss the confusion off your face.

Honestly, he might be looking for any excuses to kiss you at this point. But, to be fair, he's liked you since that first time he cooked ramen for you the night you met—that was like four years ago. The only reason he has never made a move on you is because you're his friend's sister.

"Yeah, yeah I can do that." He lets out a breathy laugh, shaking these ideas out of his head once more. "Basically, that the mass of his punch is 'infinite' is a consequence of the relativistic effects of travelling at speeds near to light." He points at a calculation on the paper. "And if Flash punches you on the face he won't send you flying to another continent."

This time, Donghyuck watches the disappointment take over your features; smile and shoulders dropping at the same time. "He won't?"

Donghyuck denies with his head. "You would disintegrate in an instant. The energy of his punch is 750,000 times greater than the energy released by an atomic bomb exploding in your face."

You're not saying anything. You're just looking right into his eyes and it's making Donghyuck considerably nervous. Thankfully, he's been sitting all this time, because considering how close you're standing in front of him he's sure his knees would've given up on him a while ago.

He gulps. "I did the maths."

"You're a fucking genious."

Donghyuck melts hearing you praise his work.

“Okay. I’m ready,” Mark says as he waits for you at the room’s door.

Right, you and your brother were scheduled to have dinner together.

Donghyuck doesn't want you to go just yet, he doesn't want to stop chatting with you about irrelevant-to-the-society stuff like this, but he understands this is one of the few moments you’ll get to hang out with Mark alone, so he doesn’t tag alone when Mark offers him to.

“I’ll just have a light dinner and study a little bit more,” he politely declines. Then, he’s looking into your eyes once again. “Wanna chill together when you’re done with your brother?”

“You wanna watch Oppenheimer?”

Does he want to spend three hours watching a movie about an international bunch of nerds who just argue for more than two thirds of the plot, and some awfully awkward scenes of Mr. Oppenheimer flirting using physics that he definitely didn’t think of replicating with you? Again?

Donghyuck thinks you might be the love of his life. 

“Of-fucking-course I wanna watch Oppenheimer.” He thinks this might be a better answer, rather than confessing his undying love to you (in front of his best friend) (that is your brother.)

“Nobody’s gonna ask me if I want to watch Oppenheimer?” Mark questions with arms crossed and narrowed eyes.

“Mark, you were snoring inside the movie theater when we went to watch it together.”

“I had a long day, dude!”

“You literally came out of the theater and said ‘this was fucking boring for a World War Two movie’!”

“Well, I mean yeah–” Mark starts trying to defend himself but gets interrupted by you, when you start pushing him towards the door saying you’re hungry, and reminding him how most of the times they argue he can never win against Donghyuck. “But you gotta accept it was missing a little action, man.”

Donghyuck throws his head back, and then looks at your brother with his eyes squinted and a fake smile. “They were scientists, Mark, not soldiers–”

“Whatever!” you say when you’ve managed to get your brother out of the room. “We’re leaving. Hyuck–” Donghyuck notices his eyebrows relax, and the frown he had while arguing with Mark is gone as soon as you’re calling his name with a smile on your lips. “Looking forward to movie night.”

“I’ll get some beers for us,” Donghyuck adds, to which you agree excitedly.

Mark sighs once you’re on your way out of the apartment. “I swear to God,” he starts. “You two are like made for each other.”

You just punch his shoulder as a defense mechanism, not knowing how to react or manage your emotions when it comes to Donghyuck. And you definitely don't know Donghyuck catches a glimpse of your smile and your reddened cheeks before you close the front door.

That simple thing, maybe gives Donghyuck a little hope.

Friday, 11:13 a.m.

You can't believe you're jealous of a dog.

You watch the video play over and over on your phone screen. Donghyuck was literally rubbing his face on the little fur ball, using it as some kind of cotton pad, then showering the dog with kisses all over her little face.

Chenle's friends with the boys and he recently got a dog that he named Daegal. Today, Chenle and Mark were going to be working together since early and Chenle didn't want to leave the dog alone. Apparently, Donghyuck and Daegal love each other, and that's the reason why you're currently at Chenle's, at fucking eleven in the morning during your break.

Donghyuck and you were the designated babysitters of the dog.

You wonder over the video on your phone a little more, thinking of what to put as a caption to share it on your story. Maybe some emojis? Some angry emojis because Donghyuck won't even look at you now that he's with the doggie? Maybe cute emojis… Something like a sun, a heart, and a dog. Maybe the caption boyfriend material, or something in the lines of pay attention to me followed by some exclamation points.

You decide to post it with the text 'taking good care of the baby' and tagging Donghyuck and Chenle's account. It doesn't take long for two notifications to arrive. One is from Donghyuck, who just re-uploaded your story, and the other is a reply from Chenle. 'Who's the baby? Donghyuck or Daegal?' followed by a cracking up emoji.

A smile takes over your face reading it, and it stays there when you get your head up and your eyes meet Donghyuck, who's laying relaxed on the couch with the little fur ball on top of his belly. He has his cute transparent glasses on, and he's wearing some comfy pants and a hoodie that makes him look incredibly cozy and huggable.

His eyes find yours, and an arm extends in your direction, inviting you to join him on the couch with a pat besides his spot. His body radiates an enveloping heat that makes you forget it's winter, but it seems that it's not enough for Donghyuck, who grabs one of the soft blankets laying around the couch and puts it over the three of you.

The characteristic sound of Netflix reaches your ears and then Donghyuck is looking for the drama that you started watching together a couple of weeks ago, from your homes and when you both had some free time through Netflix Party. The third episode of My First True Love starts playing on the TV screen while you wait for the food you ordered earlier, and you feel content. Everything about the situation is too domestic and feels familiar, and you're not surprised when you think that you wouldn't mind getting used to this.

What is a surprise is when Donghyuck puts his arm over your head and offers you to get closer to him, resting a little more on his body.

"This is nice." You hear him say, almost in a whisper. The midday sun illuminates almost as much as his smile when you look up at him.

"It is," you agree, focusing once again at the TV (because looking at him was making you melt inside.)

"We could do it more often."

And by the increasing rate of his heart and the soft caresses in your hair, you knew he didn't mean just babysitting Daegal.

(Still) Friday, 04:02 p.m.

Donghyuck wakes up from his nap on the couch to the smell of coffee and missing the warmth from his two personal heaters, Daegal and you, who he remembers were still with him before he fell asleep. He sits and stretches in his place before moving towards the kitchen, where he already visualized your figure in front of the counter, with your back to him. You don't seem to notice him, so as he walks into the kitchen, he makes sure to greet you with a little hello.

You just look over your right shoulder at him, but you have to raise your head because Donghyuck is closer than expected. You greet him in the same way, but with a sweet smile on your face. "Hi, Hyuck."

Now that Donghyuck is so close, he can notice that the smell of coffee is coming from the machine in front of you that is filling two mugs with particular writings: one says 'best dad in the world', and the other says 'MARK' in big colorful letters (someone also took it upon themselves to print a photo of Mark holding a watermelon on it.)

"Chenle's mugs are fucking weird, don't you think?"

Donghyuck laughs hearing your question and decides to explain. "These are part of an inside joke. Chenle always says someone like Mark would be his ideal son, so your brother got these made for Chenle for last year's fathers' day." He finishes standing against the counter by your side, and thanks you when you handle him a warm home-made latte.

Donghyuck can't take coffee so well since most of the time it makes his stomach hurt, and you know this.

"You don't have to drink it. I remember you're not good with coffee," you tell him, but it's too late when Donghyuck's already sipping the first drink.

Yeah, he might have to use Chenle's bathroom later, but he's willing to face a shit rather than miss out on the opportunity to share a coffee made by you, on a winter afternoon where it's just the two of you and the sun filtering through the kitchen window falling on your face.

"I just thought it would've been disrespectful not making you one too."

You finish your sentence but smile watching him enjoying the coffee anyway, and Donghyuck thinks that maybe, just maybe, he's a little in love with you.

So he takes a deep breath, takes a lot of courage, and sets out to do what works best for him when it comes to you: pretend he's joking when in reality he's only on the verge of confessing his feelings. "Do I have something in my lips?"

"You do, actually," you answer his question pointing at your own upper lip with your finger to make him understand. "A little bit of foam around here–"

"Please do the Secret Garden scene."

"What?"

He's not hesitant to repeat it. Donghyuck internally questions himself though, wondering where all this confidence has come from. Because, yes, Donghyuck is very confident, naturally. But not when it comes to you. His knees go weak and his stomach starts to ache with nerves when he thinks of things like kissing you. In that sense, he will not waste this sudden confidence-rush.

"Please do the Secret Garden with me."

And this time around he can confirm you understood 100% what he means because your laugh and your punch on his arm indicate it. He notices it might be a reflex act of yours—punching people in the arm when you get nervous or don't know what to retort. He's glad he won't have to worry about punching mean guys when he makes you his girlfriend, though; you'll probably take care of that yourself.

Donghyuck still catches you staring at his lips the moment he gets rid of the foam with his tongue. And when you snap out of your trance, your eyes meet Donghyuck's and his eyebrows that move up and down, just to tease you a little more. A mischievous smile is also adorning his face.

He only watches you shake your head while your cheeks grow red, even when you try to hide it behind that big mug with the picture of your brother holding the watermelon.

"Anyway," he decides it will be better to change subjects. "Where's Daegal?"

"I thought she was sleeping with you?" You ask before you start looking around the place for the little fur ball.

"I mean, she was as long as I remember." Donghyuck watches you leave the kitchen and move around the living room, checking every corner for the dog you two were supposed to sacrifice your life for if needed (that's how Chenle described the seriousness of the duty). "You were too…" But you're far enough not to hear the disappointment in Donghyuck's voice after waking up all alone.

"She wasn't here when you woke up?" you ask, standing in front of the couch.

Donghyuck shakes his head no. You start picking up the tangle of blankets and throwing them in the direction of Donghyuck, who hardly catches them in his arms. It's confirmed that Daegal hasn't been trapped under the blankets and at least she hasn't suffocated to death. Although that doesn't give any of you any comfort; the doggie still is nowhere around.

"Oh my fucking god," you say, trapping your head in your hands. "We lost Chenle's dog."

"She has to be somewhere around."

"We lost Chenle's dog and we didn't even go out with her," he hears you repeat all the way from Chenle's bedroom, where Donghyuck checks if the little dog is hiding. He looks under the bed, inside the closet, and inside the bathroom, only to find nothing. "We must be the dumbest babysitters in the world," you finish when he's back in the living room.

He looks down at the watch on his wrist and notices it's almost four thirty, which makes him start to sweat from the nerves. "Chenle's about to come back. We need to find this dog right now."

"Chenle's gonna kill us."

"y/n, just look for the dog."

"He will find out and probably hire a contract killer to deal with us for losing his baby." Donghyuck sees your desperation and calls your name once more, but you don't listen to him. "I'll never see Baekhyun live again!"

And the doorbell rings, followed by a knock on the door and Chenle's screams coming from outside, telling you to let him in.

"Fuck my life," Donghyuck mutters and goes to open the door.

"Hyuck!" you hiss while following him closely. "What are you gonna tell him?"

He silences you, looking back at you and placing his index finger over his lips. Donghyuck takes a deep breath, puts his hand on the handle, sweats a little more despite fighting to calm his nerves, and finally opens the door. Mark is the first to enter, anyway, and he doesn't greet any of you; he simply calls for Daegal, and Donghyuck knows that this is the moment where he should start begging Chenle to let him keep his life and promise him that he will find another dog that looks exactly like–

"Daegal!"

Like the little white ball of fur in your brother's arms.

Donghyuck looks back at you once more, his eyes and mouth wide open in astonishment, and you return an equally astonished look.

"Thanks guys for taking good care of the baby," Chenle says once he's done greeting his dog, who appeared literally out of nowhere and left you and Donghyuck stressed enough for probably three or four months. "She didn't give you any problem, right?"

"Oh, no. Definitely, no." Donghyuck and you are quick to deny at the same time, which might sound a little suspicious as Chenle looks at both of you with narrowed eyes.

Then, he's moving his head to focus his gaze on the mess you left behind when you were rummaging through the couch and the blankets, looking for the dog. "Alright, lovebirds. Then I hope that disaster isn't because you two fucked on my couch while I was gone."

part two coming next week !

taglist: @matchahyuck @sundamariis @thesunsfullmoon @babyjenono @chenfleur @bettyschwallocksyee @sundhaelatte @injunier @justalildumpling @lanadreamie @dhyucktopia @143rachafm

[alocon]

A Soulmate Who Wasn't Meant To Be - Max Verstappen

written by alocon

Note: Based on the song A Soulmate Who Wasn't Meant To Be by Jess Benko

Summary: You are a Red Bull Racing driver who decided to make a song over the summer break about your ex... Who just so happens to be a Red Bull Racing driver. Said driver decided to listen to the song, reliving memories from when you were together as the lyrics progressed

Warning: Angst? I guess. Plus some social media at the end x

[The Masterlist] [Part Two Here]

A Soulmate Who Wasn't Meant To Be - MV¹

Max looked at his phone, reading the post and instantly heading to the link to listen to your new song. He sat back on his bed, listening as the guitar started.

"I never should've called"

[October 2010]

Picking up the phone, you sighed before you dialled the number that he had given you earlier.

“Hello, is this [Name]?” He asked once he picked up the phone.

“Yep. It is indeed,” you responded, hearing a sigh through the screen from the man.

He smiled. “I was hoping you would call.”

"’Cause I knew you would leave me"

[October 2010]

“Racing is the most important part of my life,” he said as you both sat in the coffee shop talking, getting to know one another. “It's always racing over anything. I want to be a Formula One driver one day.”

“I get it, I'm the same.”

"But I didn't think you could do it so easily"

[November 2018]

“No. I can't. Racing over everything, remember? Just like I said when we were 13. This is over.”

“Max you can race and be with me, you know?”

Max turned to you, bitterly laughing. It was obvious that any love he had for you was long gone. “Not when we're going to be driving together.”

“It's not like there's anything in the contract about us not dating. It's never changed how we drive together. Are you seriously going to throw us away for no damn reason?” You questioned, watching as he shrugged before nodding. You stood up. “Fine by me.” It was not fine by you, but you weren't going to let him see that. You walked out of his driver's room. Just like that. 8 years down the drain.

"I never should have held your hand on that cold rainy night"

[November 2010]

“You look nice,” the 13-year-old said, greeting you with a hug. You hugged him back, of course. Your 13th birthday was last week and he had got you some flowers for it, knowing that you loved them. He looked at you as you began to walk. Looking back, you slipped your hand into his, making him smile, cheeks flushing slightly. That wasn't the only time that you held hands that night. You held hands on the run home whilst you darted from shelter to shelter, attempting to avoid the awful weather. 

“You said the weather would be good,” you stated to him through laughs as you got to the bus stop, pausing to take shelter for a moment.

He was also laughing and turned to you. “I thought it was!”

"Cause further along it would cause another fight"

[December 2010]

“It's not my fault that your dad was following us all night!” You were angry at the accusations that your boyfriend was yelling at you.

“He got so mad about it. He wants us to break up because you decided to hold my hand.”

“And is that what you want, Max?”

He sighed, taking a breath to calm himself down. He stepped closer to you, pulling you into a soft hug. “No. No it's not. I'm sorry.”

"Stranger, that's all I see. When I look into your eyes."

[July 2023]

You stood on the top step of the podium, having just won the British Grand Prix. Beside you, in P2, was Verstappen. On the other side, in P3, was Lando. The champagne spraying had already happened and it was now time for a photo. You felt eyes on you.

Turning around, your eyes met Max's. He looked at you with something you couldn't read, but you didn't care. Your eyes gave back a completely blank look, almost as if you didn't know him. You shuffled along for the photo, both drivers on either side of you. You felt Max's hand place against your back. You shuffled out of his grip, swapping places with Lando so he was in the middle. His arm went to where Max's just was but you didn't push him away. You made a 1 with your hand, Lando making a 3 as the three of you posed with your race engineer.

"A Soulmate That Wasn't Meant To Be"

[April 2019] 

“What happened between you two anyway?”

You turned to look at Charles and Seb as the pair eyes you both sat as far away from one another as Charles’ driver room couch would allow. It was an innocent question. He didn't know. 

“I guess we were just soulmates who weren't meant to be,” Max answered, shrugging as he spoke.

You rolled your eyes. ‘Something like that,’ you thought.

"Stranger, who knows all my secrets"

[January 2010]

You gasped. “No way you did that!” You said, looking at Max as he laughed softly. 

“I did.” It took him a few minutes to calm down before he looked at you. “Your turn. What's your biggest secret?”

"Can pull me apart and break my heart"

[February 2019]

Your first time being around Max properly since you both broke up. He treated you like you weren't as important as him. He treated you as if you didn't have more wins than him, acting like he was the better driver, the better person, as if he didn't rip you apart into a bunch of tiny pieces when he out of the blue ended your 8 year relationship. The pair of you had been dating since you were 13 and he threw that away for nothing.

He used the excuse that racing meant he couldn't be with you but that wasn't true at all. You were both driving together for years and it changed nothing. But he went from, one day being excited about you also moving to Red Bull with him, to ending the relationship with no explanation. It made no sense.

"A Soulmate Who Wasn't Meant To Be"

[September 2014]

“Do you think soulmates exist?”

It was a question you had been curious to know for ages. You asked him so casually as you sat on his bed, watching a show on the TV on his wall. He looked at you, not even hesitating to answer. “Well if they do, I hope you're mine.”

"I never should've kissed, kissed your hand"

[October 2010]

You met him for the first time. He walked over and introduced himself to you. It was some dumb competition. 2 teams, hand the karting grid in each team. Your team vs his, whichever team scored more karting points got to choose everyone else's outfits the next week. Of course, you had won and, of course, Charles had expertly suggested that you all make them wear fancy dress princess dresses. 

You laughed as he walked over to you. “I wouldn't have to wear this stupid dress if it wasn't for your last lap overtake,” he declared, feigning annoyance before following your laugh, unable to hold it back any longer. 

“Well, for the record, Max. You make a very pretty princess.” You picked his hand up in yours, teasingly placing a kiss on it before breaking out into laughter again at the unimpressed look on his face.

"I am under your control"

[December 2023]

“Let Max Through.”

The three words that drove you insane. Even when you were quicker, even when you were fighting him for championships, it was always you being told to give up the place for him. Even when either of you could easily win, Horner favourited Max. You hated being in Red Bull at the moment. You hated how unfair it was. You hated the way that he was the golden boy and you were nothing. You would have more wins than him if Christian didn't berate you every time you didn't listen and let Max through. But not this time. This was your championship, and noone will take it away from you. 

"I will never understand"

[December 2023]

“We told you to give the place to Max,” you heard Horner say through the radio as you crossed the line. 

“I was quicker, though.”

“I don't care.”

“He's already world champion, does it matter?”

“Yes.”

You really didn't understand why you were nothing to them. 

"I never should have said “I love you”. You never said it back."

[November 2018]

“Seriously, Max. This is so out of the blue. I love you. I thought you loved me.”

He didn't reply, just stared at you with a blank expression. That was when you realised. He didn't love you. Maybe he never did. 

"So why do I still care for you?"

[July 2021]

“What happened?” You asked as you walked up to the pit wall, the red flag having just came out.

“Max and Lewis touched.” You looked to the screen, seeing Max's car in the wall. You felt your heartbeat grow faster. Shit. That looked bad.

“Is he okay?”

“Yes. We're getting him to medical now.”

"Stranger, that's all I see. When I look into your eyes, a soulmate who wasn't meant to be. Stranger, who knows all my secrets, can pull me apart and break my heart. A Soulmate Who Wasn't Meant To Be."

[August 2021]

You sat down beside Kimi and Anthonio, who looked at you. “He's being a dick again, I take it?” The Finn asked and you nodded, infuriated. 

“When isn't he being a dick to you. What did he do this time?” Antonio was the next to ask a question.

You shrugged, beginning to explain his major outburst to you, calling you the worst driver he's ever been teammates with, a bitch, saying he was glad he ‘got rid of you when he got the chance’, saying that you're nothing compared to him you'll never be anything. As per either his usual outbursts, Jos was sat watching in the corner.

"I wish I could go back to the day we met and leave you be."

[May 2022]

Those were the words you shouted back at him when, once more, Jos and Christian berated you for not letting him through. He seemed taken aback. You had not shouted back at him like that before. He never realised you could shout that loud and full of hate. 

“Don't say that about him.” Christian's voice boomed as he screamed at you once again.

“Well, if I didn't, maybe I would've been able to be respected by you guys, rather than treated like shit.”

"Sit and look pretty"

[August 2023]

“What?” You looked into the audience at the person who said that. As you went to speak, you heard someone do it before you could. 

“Fuck you.”

Such a simple phrase yet elegantly put by Max as he flipped the questioner off, before shooting you an apologetic look. He felt bad for snapping rather than letting you speak. He just couldn't help defending you. He really didn't hate you, he never could. In fact, he felt quite the opposite for you. He could never let you know that, though

“Being a Formula One driver is tough, even more so for women because we are judged by people like you. I do not just sit there and look pretty. I do my job.”

"Never should've called. Never should've kissed."

A lot of the time, you regretted getting with Max. It was always bound to go badly. Sometimes you wondered if you were really that stupid. Stupid enough to believe it was the right thing to do. That you would work out.

"Never should've said."

[January 2024]

You sighed, looking at the photo of you and Max you found under your drawers in your room. You saw some writing on the back. It must've been there for a while, likely falling out of your drawer after you rearranged it the previous week. You turned it over, recognising Max's writing.

“Diary thing, 

This photo is of me and the love of my life. My dad made me break up with her. I didn't want to but it was either her ass on the line or mine. And I didn't want him to terrorise her. Anyways I miss her, that was all. I never should've said that I wanted to break up with her”

What the fuck?

"Stranger, that's all I see. When I look into your eyes, a soulmate who wasn't meant to be. Stranger, who knows all my secrets. Can pull me apart and break my heart. A soulmate who wasn't meant to be."

The song came to an end and, by it, Max was crying. He opened his phone, finding the post on Instagram, typing out a comment. One that she didn't reply to.

youruser

liked by lewishamilton and others

youruser: Surprise, new song out now!! Link in my bio. Thank you lewishamilton for being my guitarist!! (Bonus Pic of Arthur because he took the 8th photo of me!)

tagged: lewishamilton, arthurleclerc

-view all comments-

lewishamilton: Such a beautiful song, thank you for letting me be the guitarist. So so proud of you ❤️ 

youruser: Thank you !! ❤️

georgerussell63: Great song!! Smashed it 👍

youruser: Appreciate it, Mr. Russell

charles_leclerc: Excellent song! Maybe I could be your pianist next time? 😉 

youruser: Absolutely, you're already on my collab list dw 😉  charles_leclerc: Right alongside Yuki and Pierre as your backup singers, I hope? We've all heard their excellent karaoke 🎤  youruser: Obviously!

carlossainz55: Such an emotional song, loved it 😭❤️

youruser: Thank you, Carlos!!

maxverstappen1: Lovely song! I really enjoyed it

landonorris: Right. That's it. You're paying for my therapy.

youruser: You're a driver too. Pay for your own ✋️🙄 oscarpiastri: Can you pay for my therapy tho? youruser: Ofc, send me the bill landonorris: ACTUAL FAVOURITISM???? WHAT THE HELL youruser: 😚😚

yukitsunoda0511: I am officially your biggest fan, I'm obsessed.

youruser: Yuki!! You're an angel 🤍 yukitsuonda0511: So are you! 🤍

danielricciardo: All 3 of us are crying over your song rn. 

youruser: Crying session in the VCARB garage, pull up.

estebanocon: Much better than your drunk singing 😉

youruser: I'll have you know, Mr. Ocon, that my drunk singing is wonderful. estebanocon: No its not. charles_leclerc: No its not. pierregasly: No its not. lance_stroll: No its not. youruser: Screw the lot of you.

pierregasly: She can sing? I didn't know she could do that. (Not well at least, drunk karaoke is always horrific with you)

youruser: 🫵🫵 When I find you.

lance_stroll: Well done, great song.

youruser: Thank you.

fernandoalo_oficial: So proud 👏 

youruser: Thank you !!

zhouguanyu24: Wow 😍

youruser: Thank Youuu omg

valtteribottas: Beautiful song, kiddo 

youruser: Thank you Val!

alex_albon: New favourite song.

youruser: Ahh thank you

logansargeant: I got to hear it early!! Luckiest person ever.

youruser: Logan you're actually one of the nicest person to ever exist. alex_albon: Ah So this is why he's crying. yukitsunoda0511: Lucky :( youruser: Dw Yuki, I'll show you early next time! X

liamlawson30: My girlfriend has been playing this on repeat.

youruser: TELL HER I LOVE HER liamlawson30: Nah, you've stolen enough of the WAGs.

nyckdevries: Excellent song!

youruser: Nyck!!! Miss you 💛

mickschumacher: Launch Party soon??? This is actually heaven in a song.

youruser: Thank you. Launch Party soon, you're so invited

nicholaslatifi: Great song!

youruser: THE GOAT HAS ARRIVED, THIS IS NOT A DRILL 📣📣 Thank you Nicky

sebastianvettel: So so proud of you, kiddo.

youruser: Thanks, I miss you Seb x sebastianvettel: I miss you too. Meet up soon? 

kimimatiasraikkonen: So many words for the song and every one of them is positive 

youruser: Kimi 😭❤️

nicorosberg: Wow!! Well done you two 🤩

youruser: Thank you, Brit (Kill Lew please this comment was his idea) lewishamilton: Thanks, Britney nicorosberg: Never mind. You're both annoying 😂

jensonbutton: Beautiful, beautiful song

youruser: Miss you Jens!

AlphaTauri: Wow??? 🤩

youruser: THANK YOUUUU

schecoperez: Is this about who I think it is?? Lovely song x

youruser: It might be, depends who you think it is about, thank you. X

formula1: Song of the year???

youruser: THANK YOU ADMIN X

christianhorner: It's not bad. 👍

user: "not bad"? I'd like to see you do better. *liked by youruser*

mercedesamgf1: THAT'S OUR GRID GIRL <3

youruser: Ahh 😭 love u admin mercedesamgf1: love u too

user: notice how other teams are commenting but not redbull??? The team she fucking drives for?

user2: They don't respect her as a driver or person, it sucks :(

-The End-

-Word Count: 2,601 (incl. social media. 2,061 without)-

Hi All, Hope you enjoyed! Have a nice day. Got nothing against Max btw, just fancied an angsty story btw. Thinking of another angsty Red Bull story soon Alocon

[bestedoesmeow]

what about us?

daniel ricciardo & ex!gf reader

request :Heyyyy, could you maybe do a Daniel Ricciardo x Ex-GF!reader where they run into each other at a vacation(they’re both alone), and as they spend time together, they realise they’re not over each other. It could be a mix of one shot and smau

song to listen while reading: pink - what about us

You see him standing there, his gorgeous smile on his lips, holding his beer. His body moves lazily with the rhythm, his lips syncing with the lyrics, "Oh, as long as I know how to love, I know I'll stay alive." He talks to the person next to him, effortlessly beautiful, just as you remember him. Suddenly, his eyes catch yours after years. It's the first time in years; you had avoided watching him race, laugh, or be interviewed to avoid eye contact, even from the screen. To forget him: his smile, his touch, his laughter.

Your blood rushes through your veins, your hands slightly shake with the contact, your cosmopolitan leaves stains on your white dress as he makes his way towards you. His steps drawing closer, your heart beats louder, heavier, faster.

"Enchanté," he says, as if trying to remind you that after years, you're in Paris again. Together, but not like before.

"Enchanté," you manage to say, hiding your shaky hands by placing your drink on the nearest table. His eyes are even brighter, more beautiful than you remember.

"It's been years. What are you doing here?" he asks, a big smile on his lips.

"Here for a holiday with a few friends. What about you?"

"We're on summer break; came here with some of the guys from the grid," he points to three guys dancing and drinking next to the cocktail table.

"You look fantastic," he adds, probably unaware of its effect on you.

"Thank you. Yeah, you too," you stutter, trying to smile and avoid flashbacks of your last night together upon hearing his voice.

8 YEARS AGO

"I know, I understand you have to move there, and I fully support you, but what about us?" you say, tears filling your eyes. His hands cup your cheeks, and he gets closer on the couch. Tears well up in his eyes as he watches you cry, perhaps for the last hour.

"We're going to be okay. We can try long distance, FaceTime every night. You can visit me, and during breaks, I'll come here, huh?"

"Promise you won't let me go? Won't get tired of me, the FaceTimes, the long hours of traveling."

He presses his nose to yours, breathing slowly to hold back tears. "I'd never, ever get tired of you, Y/N. If there's something more important to me than my career in F1, it's you. Nothing in this world can take me away from you," he says, leaving a peck on your lips.

"I promise too. I'll try my best to make this work, what we have."

He left home three days after your conversation, and you decided to break up in the second month of the long distance. He was aggressive, stressed, busy. You decided to give him the break he seemed to want. He didn't say anything, but he cried for hours in the motorhome, had the worst qualifying sessions. Meanwhile, you left your house, moved back in with your family, and changed schools.

It wasn't truly over, of course. No one came into your life during those years, not even in Daniel's case. All you could think of was him: the late-night talks, the way he touched you, the way you loved each other.

He was a beautiful trauma.

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

"How's everything going? Are you done with school?" he asks, while you're lost in memories.

"Oh yes, I'm teaching at an elementary school in Boston now," you say, catching him looking you up and down.

"I'm so proud of you, Y/N. I always knew you'd be a great teacher. Look at you."

"I'm proud of you too. You look great in the Red Bull suit," you say, mostly confessing. "I knew all of this would bear fruit."

"You've always been so supportive. I can never thank you enough," he says.

"So supportive that I couldn't bear anyone with any less supportiveness. I am- was addicted to you," he panics, swiftly changing the word.

"Is there anyone? Has there been anyone?" you ask, the words coming out unexpectedly.

"No, it was never after you, and I don't think it ever will be after you."

"I missed you, Daniel. I missed you for days, weeks, months, and years. I learned how to cope with it, but I never learned enough to forget you. You'll always be my favorite person," you say, tears welling up in your eyes. Your hands cup his cheek, and your body shivers with the touch, contact after years. His eyes well up, and his lips curl into a painful smile.

"Thank you, baby. Thank you for everything you sacrificed for me. I love you, I love you forever," he says, kissing the palm of your hand.

"Thank you for showing me what love is, Danny. I'm so thankful. Maybe we're meant to be in another universe?" you say, bursting into tears with your last words. His arms pull you into a tight hug, his lips moving on your hair, leaving peck kisses.

"I don't think I'll be leaving you now that I've found you."

[joyaphoria]

the first time you and bokuto met, you guys were ten. you had just moved to tokyo and your mom got a job at the same place bokuto's mom worked. they became friends almost instantly, and once they realized they had children the same age, a play date was set immediately.

contrary to popular belief, you guys didn't get along well at all. bokuto was a stubborn child; he wanted to be outside playing volleyball with his friends, and the idea of having to stay inside to acquaint himself with a little girl that probably didn't know a thing about the sport seemed catastrophic.

he was right after all — you didn't know (or even care) about bokuto's treasured sport, and you were just as fond of being there as he was. you'd give anything to be at home, burying your face in some mangas, or playing piano.

you fought like cats and dogs the first four years after you guys met, both at school and outside of it, since your houses were close and your families were even closer. unfortunately, keeping a distance was just never an option.

the first time you and bokuto had ever gotten along (if you could even call it that), was when you turned fifteen. bokuto was invited to your party by default, as well as everyone in your homeroom class by your mother's request, nevermind the fact that you got along with hardly any of them.

you had just finished helping yours and bokuto's mom in the kitchen with prepping the food, and made your way back to the living room to check on your guests.

you froze in place once you caught them grouping around your piano, realizing that you forgot to put away your piano books.

you've always been big in the arts, but piano was your thing. you liked to think of yourself of a composer of sorts, writing sheet music and occasionally adding a few lyrics.

you would've thought you might have learned from a similar incident a few years ago, when you caught bokuto reading through your sheet music. though he never said anything — never hinted at any emotion at all — you still ended up a sobbing mess.

this however, was very different. they were snickering and laughing, pointing at the lyrics and your 'odd penmanship', trying to make out the words on the paper. you felt the tears swelling up in your eyes already, your hands trembling as you find yourself glued in place.

before you could even blink, a familiar figure's shoving past you into the room, and you watch as bokuto snatches the sheet music from the boy holding them.

he laughs then, snickering at bokuto before looking over at you. "hey, y/n, did you write all this bull—"

there is a fist colliding with his nose in less than half a second.

all the girls shriek and shove at each other as they back away from the commotion, screaming as bokuto scrambles on top of the boy, maintaining the upper hand from the very beginning.

you watch them fight, bokuto sporting a split lip and bruised fists as his mother runs in and yanks him off of the boy, your mother rushing in behind his to assess the situation.

you're utterly confused, even more so once he turns to find your eyes, and the side of his lip quirks up into a lopsided smirk.

later once everyone leaves and situation was managed and dealt with, you find yourself staring once again, as he takes a cotton ball to his bloody lip, and runs his fists under the tap.

once he turns off the water and looks up to address you, you catch sight of that intoxicating smile yet again, and you don't even need to ask anything. bokuto can read the question right off your face.

"can't have anyone else reading the songs you write about me now, can we?"

what if i turned this into a short written series, the five years of bokuto and y/n as enemies until this happens and everything changes?

composed

[navstuffs]

A moment forever ago

Pairing: Leon Kennedy x GN!Reader

Summary: In an elevator, a moment forever ago, Leon might have found the love of his life. But it was over forever ago.

Warning tags: SONGFIC, PAIN PAIN, ANGST, hurt/some/no comfort, in italics are the song lyrics, happens during an elevator ride, love in first sight

Author's Notes: song fic 100% based on A Moment Forever Ago from the show called Central Park. my recommendation? you should read this fic as you listen to the music that inspired! every time i write angst fanfic i wonder if im going to outdo myself (creep, emptiness, ghost of you, the tragedy of leon s. kennedy) and honestly, i always try to break everyone's heart. you be the judge if i did it worse (or better)!

my leon's masterlist

It is hard to say if love at first sight exists. Some say it is pure bull, a stupid idea, whereas romantics try to find theirs on every street corner of a supermarket aisle. Leon Kennedy is neither of those. He doesn't have time for the whole arrangement of being a couple and ardently in love with someone.

He was probably destined to end it alone, which was a better deal for everyone, especially himself. But life happens to everyone, and even Agent Kennedy isn't immune to that.

"There was a moment forever ago

That keeps me up on quiet nights

And flickers like a pilot light"

It happens during a stupid elevator ride, during which nothing important ever happens. Leon is on the 28th floor of a hotel, returning from another exhausting mission, thinking when it is finally time to give up, change his name, and run away to some forgotten island in the middle of nowhere where no one would ever find him. He could change his name to Lucius Kelly. He would let his hair and beard grow, live peacefully with a farm and tons of chickens and pigs, and never return to the city, instead drinking coconut water and getting tanned the whole day.

The elevator door opens, and Leon finds himself face-to-face with you. You stand in the middle of the elevator, more to the left, not lifting your eyes as he enters. You are too focused on your thoughts, in a distant point of this reality. Leon stands on your other side, trying to give you the privacy not to stare, but he looks at you again with a sudden interest.

Staring at a fixated point in the elevator's doors, not acknowledging his presence. You don't seem the kind who will strike up a conversation or ask about the weather, nothing like that, which generally Leon didn't like. With a blank expression, you stare at the doors, which shouldn't intrigue Leon as much, but it does.

There is just something about you, and he can't quite place it.

The elevator bell dings and Leon's attention is momentarily drawn to a businessman walking in, ignoring both of you and standing near the door, too busy on his phone closing deals. When Leon quickly gives you a look, he glimpses your head, quickly turning to the wall on your side. As if you are caught staring back at him, too.

"A moment forever ago

That makes me wait through memories"

You are probably thinking he is a creep, Leon thinks. Exemplar behavior from a US agent, Mr. Kennedy, goggling at someone like that. But he can't help himself to look again, noticing you playing with the sleeve of your hoodie, a slight movement to someone who isn't paying enough attention. But Leon is. He figures it is a tiny nervous tick you develop to cope with stressful situations. You are enigmatic, ordinary to common eyes, but not to him. Beautiful in your own way. The elevator's door opens again, and a couple walks in, smiling and occupying the space in front of Leon. Leon gives them extra space, bumping his arm against yours. He quickly apologizes, but you don't seem to care, simply looking at your shoes. 

"But when I look back, all that I can find

Is that moment forever ago

Was it over forever ago?"

Elevator rides shouldn't take more than two or three minutes, but this one is surely taking longer than it should. More people enter the elevator (was there a convention of some sort in this place?), causing Leon's body to get closer to yours, his arm touching yours. He no longer apologizes, maintaining his eye on the door, hoping it can open. That's when he feels the light brush on the palm of his hand.

"Now that moment forever ago

Is home to more than one regret

A recurring sad vignette"

Or was it all his imagination? Maybe just a phantom feeling of a warm touch, a deep desire from his chest. It had to be your touch; it had to be because no one else was so close to him right now. Feeling his face burn and acting like his young self, Leon is ready to listen to your apology that never comes. He looks at you sideways, but still no reaction. He can't figure out your expression. It could have been just a figment of his imagination, desperate for human comfort. Jesus, Leon is miserable. Pitiful, an idiot.

It is the 10th floor now, and Leon suddenly sees himself asking for your name. Your phone number. He imagines your voice, the sound of your laugh. What are your hobbies, your passions, your favorite songs? The one you scream so loud from the bottom of your heart, the one who makes you cry like a baby. Leon sees him wanting something for the first time in his miserable life since Raccoon City, something that could change his life, something that only he, Leon Kennedy, could have. Something that could be his and only his.

"And that moment has taught me to know

That I can't let this one slip by me"

The elevator door suddenly dings again, and everyone starts leaving, you and Leon are the last ones. You give him a quick look as he stands his arm, letting you pass, and you exit as he follows right behind you. As Leon directs to the reception, you walk toward the exit, side by side arms brushing each other, a way to prolong this moment as long as you can. When it's finally time to depart, you look at him straight into his eyes. 

"I—" His "I" comes out so soft, so low you could pretend not to hear it.

Silence. No word comes out of your mouth, and no word comes out of his mouth. There is no one around you two. The world stops spinning, just you and him, and he can't bring himself to speak, as do you. A long moment passes, during which Leon waits for you to say something, anything, and you wait for the same. Leon wonders if you are imagining your future with him, as he imagines his with you. And Leon knows you do the same because your eyes are getting wet, and you finally stop playing with your shirt sleeve.

The moment passes, and you turn around, leaving the hotel, not looking back.

Leon doesn't follow you. He watches as you leave; probably the last time he will see you. He knows he shouldn't drag anyone into his life, his mess. Leon sighs. Maybe the romantic idiots aren't such idiots, and love at first sight could exist, who knows? Perhaps he isn't so cursed at all, he realizes with a tiny hint of a smile, walking towards the reception to check out. Because if it happens once, it could happen again, right?

"Or else it's sure to also be

A moment forever ago"