#Daniel’s eyebrows of disbelief are a thing
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Jack, walking into the briefing room: Sorry I'm late... I was... *gestures at nothing* doing paperwork. *little grin*
Daniel: *raises the eyebrows of disbelief*
Sam: *looking puzzled*
Teal’c: *eyebrow*
* Sounds of running footsteps progressively getting louder*
Maybourne, bursts in, out of breath: HE PUSHED ME DOWN THE FUCKING STAIRS!
#stargate#stargate sg1#jack oneill#harry Maybourne#permission to push this man down the stairs sir?#he totally could’ve done that#incorrect quotes#but is it really?#definitely happened in an AR#rest of SG1 is just watching/enjoying the show#not gonna lie he’s probably grinning & looking at Carter#Daniel’s eyebrows of disbelief are a thing#imagine the face from the ‘maybe he read your report scene’#Daniel Jackson#why do paperwork when you can push Maybourne down the stairs#and Hammond just sits there bc he’s used to it at this point#samantha carter#sam carter#teal’c
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( 好き) : ENHYPEN WHEN YOU CALL THEM "HUSBAND" ────𝗆𝖾 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗆𝗒 𝗁𝗎𝗌𝖻𝖺𝗇𝖽, 𝗐𝖾'𝗋𝖾 𝗌𝗍𝗂𝖼𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗈𝗀𝖾𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋
( ✶ 𝓢) ⦂ 엔하이픈 + f ! r. 1OOOwc. ──kissing, skinship, petnames && reactions ⠀ 。。 ⠀fluff, oneshot 𖥔 ⠀ARCHiVE ૮ ♡◞ ◟ ა
danielle msgs:i've been stocking up on my writing.. ㅠㅠ
𝐋𝐄𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐆
you��re sprawled across the couch, head resting on heeseung’s chest, his arm draped lazily around your waist. “hey, husband, can you grab me some water?” you murmur, half-teasing, half-testing the word on your tongue. heeseung stiffens beneath you, then lets out a breathy laugh, his fingers tracing little circles on your side. “husband, huh?” he repeats, his tone playful but his voice a little lower than usual. “getting ahead of yourself, baby?” you tilt your head up to meet his gaze, a cheeky grin tugging at your lips. “what, don’t like it?” his smile softens, the teasing edge giving way to something warmer. “nah,” he whispers, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead, “i kinda love it.”
𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐉𝐀𝐘
jay’s fingers are gently threading through your hair as you sit between his legs on the bed, your back resting against his chest. the soft scent of his cologne lingers in the air, and the world feels quiet, wrapped in the warmth of his presence. “my sweet husband, can you braid my hair?” you ask absentmindedly, the word slipping out so naturally as if it was the most normal thing you said to jay. his hands still for a moment, and then you feel him chuckle softly against your neck. “what did you just call me, princess?” he teases, his voice dripping with that mix of amusement and affection he saves just for you. you blink, realizing what you said, and glance back at him, cheeks warming. “oh… well, you act like one,” you mumble, looking away shyly. jay laughs, tilting your chin back toward him. “if you want to call me husband, i’m not complaining or maybe i'll get down on one knee,” he grins, pressing a kiss to your temple. “anything my pretty princess wants.”
𝐒𝐈𝐌 𝐉𝐀𝐊𝐄
“jake, can you hand me that—thanks, my husband,” you say casually, not even looking up as you grab the remote. he freezes, eyes widening as a slow grin spreads across his face. “what did you just call me?” he asks, voice teasing but with that little edge of disbelief. you glance at him, all innocent. “husband. why, does it bother you, husband?” you stretch out the word on purpose, your lips twitching as his cheeks flush. “oh, you’re bold today,” he mutters, pulling you closer by the waist, his hand warm against your back. “you keep saying that, baby, and i might just make it permanent.” your heart skips, but you don’t let him win. “big talk, husband,” you whisper. he smirks, leaning in. “don’t start something you can’t finish, wife.”
𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐍
you’re lounging on the couch, your head resting comfortably on sunghoon’s shoulder as he scrolls through his phone. absentmindedly, you murmur, “husband, pass me the remote?” the word slips out so naturally that you don’t even realize it until he freezes mid-scroll. slowly, he turns to you, eyebrows furrowed and eyes wide. “husband? since when were we married?” he asks, blinking in confusion, his voice slightly higher than usual. you bite back a grin, shrugging casually. “since now,” you reply, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. sunghoon’s ears turn pink, and he looks away, lips parting like he wants to say something but can’t quite process it. after a moment, he clears his throat. “well… you should’ve told me earlier. i would’ve planned a honeymoon,” he mumbles, slipping an arm around your waist to pull you close.
𝐊𝐈𝐌 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐎𝐎
“yeah, my husband and i would love to go!” you chirp into the phone, casually leaning into sunoo’s side as your fingers absentmindedly play with his. the conversation wraps up, and the moment you hang up, he’s staring at you, eyes wide and cheeks glowing. “husband?” he blurts, his voice an octave higher than usual. you shrug, barely sparing him a glance as you unlock your phone. “yeah, what about it? husband has a nice ring to it,” you tease, glancing up at him with a knowing smirk. “plus, you’re going to be my future husband anyway, right?” sunoo blinks, his lips twitching before he hides his face in your neck. “you can’t just say stuff like that!” he mutters. you nudge him lightly. “oh, come on. admit it—you like the sound of it.” he mumbles in the crook of your neck, “…maybe.”
𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐆 𝐉𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐖𝐎𝐍
you’re curled up on the couch with jungwon, his arm around your shoulders as some random drama plays on the tv. your head rests on his chest, your hand fiddling with the string of his hoodie . “husband, can you get me the popcorn over there?” you say absentmindedly, your voice soft and casual like it’s the most natural thing in the world. jungwon doesn’t even flinch, just leans over to grab the popcorn from the side and hands it to you with a small, amused smile. “here you go, my pretty girl,” he murmurs teasingly, pressing a kiss to your temple. his fingers start tracing lazy circles on your arm as if to remind you just how much he loves being close to you. “what? you’re not gonna freak out or blush?” you tease, glancing up at him. he grins, leaning down to kiss the tip of your nose. “why would i? i know it’s only a matter of time before it’s true.”
𝐍𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐌𝐔𝐑𝐀 𝐑𝐈𝐊𝐈
“husband, can you grab my water?” you call out casually from your spot on the bed, scrolling through your phone. riki freezes mid-step, turning to you with the most exaggerated grin. “what did you just call me?” he asks, already knowing full well what he heard. you roll your eyes. “you heard me. water, please.” instead of complying, he smirks, leaning against the doorway with his arms crossed. “wow, you’re already dreaming about marrying me, huh? didn’t know you were that obsessed.” you toss a pillow at him, groaning. “don’t flatter yourself! it slipped out!” he catches the pillow with ease, laughing as he saunters over to sit beside you. “nah, admit it. you’re practicing for the future.” ��riki, just get the water,” you huff, your cheeks heating up. he finally relents, but not before pinching your cheek. “fine, wife, anything for you.”d, can you grab my water?”
#ʚ( ៸៸ ´ `) 𝑜𝑓 : 𝓁𝑜𝓋𝑒 ︐#enhypen#enhypen fluff#enhypen scenarios#enhypen imagines#enhypen jungwon#enhypen fanfic#enhypen heeseung#enhypen reactions#park sunghoon fluff#niki fluff#jaeyun fluff#sunghoon fluff#park sunghoon angst#sunghoon angst#enhypen soft hour#enhypen soft hours#sunghoon soft hours#sunoo soft hours#jaeyun imagines#sunghoon imagines#heeseung scenarios#jay park scenarios
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the Plan
Based off of this post.
Damien sat at the dinner table with all of the bat family. Waiting for the opportunity to set the plan in motion. all of his siblings were at the dinner from Grayson to Brown. Even Cassandra had flown in from Hong Kong. Damien definitely thinks that Cassandra knows something's going to go down but as the plan does no one harm, he thinks she will say anything.
“Danielle will be coming to visit” Damian says to his family after the conversation lulls. Alfred had just left to refill the cold water on the table. Everyone at the table turns to him in confusion.
”Who is Danielle?” Richard questions with a confused smile on his face. He sat down his cutlery and made a motion with his hand as if to tell Damien to keep going.
”You've literally never brought her up” Tim says pointedly. his phone had gone off just before Alfred left the room so he had been checking his phone when Damien started speaking.
”my sister” Damian says with a frown that obviously indicates that he thinks they're all stupid. Damian knows that they have no idea who she is. Making them think that there was a miscommunication Is bringing him so much chaotic Joy...
”WHAT” every single one of his siblings exclaims as his father stays silent.
Damian knows that Father is going through every single person Damian has ever mentioned in his presence trying to figure out who she is. The look on everyone's faces is going to make his entire week. Damian suppresses the urge to giggle as he tries to keep a straight face. He felt the plan was stupid originally but a Fenton can never really turn down the chance for a bit.
”why did you not inform us of this” Father says pointedly trying not to look as thrown as he actually is. Father looks seconds from bolting to the Batcave to look over his files.
Too late for that Damian can't help but think.
”I have informed you she will be coming to visit '' Damian responds as he puts down his Cutlery. He's getting to urged fidget and that is best to do under the table then over.
”He meant that you had a sister, Demon brat,” Jason exclams. The rest of his siblings exchanged looks in disbelief.
‘I know,I didn't used to have one.’ Damian thinks to himself trying not to let the fact he thinks they're all idiots for falling for this show on his face.
”I have always had a sister, we are twins'' Damian says while arches an eyebrow at Jason. he turned his head to look at Cassandra with his eyebrow still raised.
Cassandra returned the look. Cassandra always had a habit of being able to look through people to tell what they think. it is useful in many things but very unhelpful in this. She eventually nodded her head at him which signaled Damien but she was on his side.
Elle and him created this plan a few months before he had been sent back. they realized that almost no time had passed for the bat family which gave them the idea. The portal between worlds had just gotten finished a week ago which gave him the chance to use the stupid plan. Damian was loving the plan a lot more than he thought he would.
This was going to be fun
#dc x dp#dpxdc#danny phantom#dp x dc#danny fenton#dc x dp crossover#batfam#batman#batfamily#damian wayne#danielle phantom#dani fenton#dcxdp
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WHATS LEFT BEHIND PT.2 | MV1
an: guys my time off is coming to an end, i move to france next week and start my job the week after rip me but in the mean time enjoy this badboy i've been sitting on
summary: when max verstappen left his childhood girlfriend behind to face her career ending injury alone to chase his dreams of being the best bull rider the country has ever seen, he thought it would be easy. except it wasn't, he was back in town and they hated him, for one reason. they hurt their star barrel racer.
wc: 6k
part one
Max pushed open the door to The Rusty Wheel, the familiar creak of its hinges greeting him like an old memory. The low hum of country music drifted from the jukebox in the corner, and the faint smell of spilled beer and worn leather hung in the air. Not much had changed since the last time he’d stepped foot in here, years ago—except, maybe, for the fact that now every pair of eyes in the place was on him.
He ran a hand through his hair and walked over to the bar, pausing only long enough to hang his cowboy hat on one of the hooks by the door. He used to come here every weekend, same as the rest of them. He hadn’t expected the town to change much—but somehow, it felt smaller now. Tighter. Like it didn’t quite fit him anymore.
Before he could take a seat, the owner, Earl, stepped out from behind the bar. Earl was a grizzled old cowboy, his flannel shirt rolled up at the sleeves, a white beard flecked with grey. He stopped in his tracks, wiping his hands on a rag, and gave Max a once-over, his face creasing with disbelief.
“Well, I’ll be damned,” Earl muttered, his eyes narrowing. “I didn’t believe it when they told me.”
Max chuckled softly, not missing the edge in Earl’s voice. “Yeah, I get that a lot.”
“You actually back for good?” Earl asked, still eyeing him like he was trying to decide if he was a mirage.
Max shrugged. “Looks that way.”
Earl grunted, leaning his hands on the bar. “Guess we’ll see how that works out.”
Before Max could reply, a figure appeared beside him, sliding a bottle of beer across the counter. Max glanced up and saw Daniel—his best friend from back in the day—giving him a smirk as he set the beer down. Daniel was leaner now, with a few more lines around his eyes, but he still had the same mischievous glint that had gotten them into trouble as kids.
Daniel raised an eyebrow as he wiped down the bar. “Bold move, man,” he said, shaking his head. “I mean, really bold.”
Max took the beer, the cold glass sweating in his grip. “Figured it was time.”
Daniel leaned against the bar, crossing his arms over his chest. “Yeah, well, half the people in this town think you’ve got some nerve coming back after what you did to her.”
Max’s stomach clenched, but he kept his face neutral. He knew it wouldn’t take long for that topic to come up. “And the other half?” he asked, taking a swig from the bottle.
Daniel snorted. “They’re just in awe of what you’ve done with your career. Hell, I’ll admit it—I followed your rides. Man, some of those bulls you took on… I thought you were insane, but you sure made a name for yourself.”
Max nodded, setting the bottle back down on the bar. “It’s not all it’s cracked up to be.”
Daniel tilted his head, studying him. “That right? Because last time I checked, you were in all the magazines, got sponsors throwing money at you, and about a million followers watching your every move. That doesn’t sound like a bad deal.”
Max sighed, leaning his elbows on the bar. “It was great for a while. But the thing is, they don’t see the rest of it. The part where you wake up and don’t know where you are half the time. Or when you’re trying to remember which interviews you’ve already done or whose hand you shook at some event you didn’t even want to go to.” He shook his head, a bitter edge creeping into his voice. “Everyone thinks they want that life until they get it.”
Daniel didn’t say anything for a moment, just watched him, the silence between them hanging heavy. Then, after a beat, he nodded. “So why’d you come back? You finally get sick of signing autographs?”
Max’s eyes drifted to the shelves of dusty bottles behind the bar, memories of a simpler life flooding back. The long nights in places like this, where the biggest problem he had was getting enough cash together to fill his tank. Where people knew him as Max, not Max Verstapppen, the famous bull rider plastered on posters across the country.
“Something like that,” he said quietly. “I was never cut out for that big city stuff. The lights, the cameras… all of it.” He paused, running a hand along the neck of the beer bottle, feeling the condensation slick against his skin. “I missed home. The quiet. The way things made sense out here.”
Daniel chuckled, shaking his head. “Home, huh?” He let out a slow breath. “Don’t get me wrong—I’m glad to see you. Always hoped you’d come back. But you know it’s not going to be easy. People here… they don’t forget.”
Max’s jaw tightened, his grip on the bottle a little firmer. “Yeah, I know.”
Daniel stared at him for a long moment, and then his expression softened, some of the teasing edge fading from his voice. “She’s still hurt, you know. Even if she doesn’t show it. You coming back… it’s gonna stir up a lot of things.”
“I figured that,” Max replied, his voice low, almost resigned. “But I had to come back anyway.”
Daniel nodded, his eyes softening. “Well, I hope you know what you’re doing. You’ve got a lot of work to do, man.”
Max took another swig of beer, the cool liquid doing nothing to settle the unease that had been bubbling in his gut since the moment he’d driven into town. “Trust me,” he muttered, more to himself than anyone else, “I know.”
The sound of the front door creaking open interrupted the conversation, and Max glanced over his shoulder to see a group of locals walking in, laughing and chatting as they made their way to a corner booth. He recognised some of them, faces he hadn’t seen in years, but he wasn’t ready for more conversations, more questions.
Turning back to Daniel, he nodded toward the bar. “Mind if I hang here for a while?”
Daniel smiled, a knowing glint in his eye. “Stay as long as you need. Just don’t expect the town to make it easy on you.”
Max nodded in appreciation, as he sipped his beer, letting the familiar hum of the bar settle around him. The chatter, the music, the faint clink of bottles—it all felt like a song from a time he thought he’d forgotten. But he hadn’t. Not really.
He’d been running from home for so long, he’d forgotten what it felt like to just stand still. And now that he was back, he wasn’t sure what hurt more—the memories of what he’d lost, or the fear of facing the woman he’d left behind.
______________________________________________________________
The next morning, Max stepped out of his truck, the early sun casting long shadows across the gravel driveway of High Ride Stables, Austin. The familiar scent of hay, leather, and horses filled the air, stirring memories he hadn’t thought of in years. It was a place he knew well—he’d worked here as a kid, mucking out stalls and helping with the horses. But today, the barn felt different, like the weight of his past was waiting for him inside.
He pushed open the large wooden door, the creak announcing his arrival. Inside, horses shuffled in their stalls, and the rhythmic thud of hooves echoed from deeper within. He glanced around, spotting the counter near the back where Leslie, the barn’s owner, was talking to one of the stable hands.
Leslie had been running this barn for as long as he could remember. She was tough as nails, with streaks of grey in her otherwise jet-black hair and a sharp gaze that could cut through any excuse. The stable hands called her “Les” when she wasn’t listening—if she caught them at it, they'd regret it.
When she saw him, her conversation trailed off, and her expression hardened. She crossed her arms over her chest and leaned back against the counter, eyeing him like he’d just tracked mud through her pristine barn.
“Well, look who the cat dragged in,” Leslie drawled, raising an eyebrow. “If it ain’t the hometown hero.”
Max tried to smile, but it fell flat. He took off his hat and held it in front of him. “Morning, Les.”
“Morning,” she replied, her tone flat. “What brings you here?”
“I’m lookin’ for work,” he said, stepping closer, but staying on the other side of the counter like it was a barrier between them. Which, in a way, it was.
Leslie’s eyes narrowed. “Work?” She scoffed, shaking her head. “After all that bull riding fame and fortune, you’re back here beggin’ for a job?”
“Not beggin’,” he muttered, his voice low. “Just askin’.”
She pushed herself off the counter, walking around it and standing toe-to-toe with him, hands on her hips. “Same difference.”
“Come on, Les,” he said, frustration creeping into his voice. “You know how it goes. The fame doesn’t last forever. Sponsors move on, injuries pile up… and the money—well, it dwindles. I can’t live off my bull riding winnings for the rest of my life.”
She crossed her arms, clearly unimpressed. “Sounds like a ‘you’ problem, not a ‘me’ problem.”
Max sighed, glancing around the barn, trying to find the right words. “I grew up here, working in this barn. I know horses, I know the work. You know I’m not afraid to get my hands dirty.”
Leslie tilted her head, considering him for a moment. “You really expect me to just hand you a job, after everything?”
He frowned, confused. “After everything?”
She shot him a knowing look. “Don’t play dumb with me, Max. You know who works here.”
His stomach sank, realising where this conversation was heading. Of course, she worked here—why wouldn’t she? It was her world. She’d never left it, never had a reason to. But that didn’t make this any easier.
“I’m not lookin’ to cause any trouble, Les. I just need work,” he said, his voice softening. “I’ll stay out of her way.”
Leslie raised an eyebrow. “Stay out of her way? You can’t just waltz back into this town, askin’ for a job, and think you can just avoid her. This is a small town, boy, not some city where you can hide from the people you’ve wronged.”
Max winced at the word “wronged.” It was blunt, but he couldn’t argue with it. He had wronged her. Maybe more than he even realised.
He took a deep breath, meeting Leslie’s gaze. “I know I messed up. I know I hurt her. But… I need this job, Les. Please.”
Leslie studied him for a long moment, her face unreadable. Then, she turned and walked back to the counter, rummaging through a drawer before pulling out a small notepad. She scribbled something down on it, then tore off the piece of paper and held it out to him.
“Here’s the deal,” she said, her voice cool and matter-of-fact. “I’ll give you a job if you go apologise to her. And not just any apology—she has to forgive you.”
Max stared at her, not taking the paper. His heart raced, a mixture of panic and disbelief. “Les, that’s impossible.”
Leslie crossed her arms again, looking at him with the same steel-eyed determination she always had. “Well, if you think it’s impossible, you don’t want this job bad enough.”
His eyes flicked to the paper in her hand, knowing exactly what was written on it. He didn’t need to look to know it was her address.
“You know she’s not gonna forgive me,” he said quietly, feeling the weight of the past like a stone in his gut.
Leslie gave him a half-smile, but there was no softness in it. “Well, you better get working, boy.”
Max finally took the paper from her hand, the weight of it feeling heavier than it should. He looked down at the address, familiar yet distant, as if it belonged to another lifetime.
“I’m serious,” Leslie said, her voice softening just a bit. “You want a job here? You’ve gotta make things right with her. I won’t have you causing more mess in this barn—or in this town. Either she forgives you, or you pack your bags and keep drivin’.”
Max swallowed hard, tucking the paper into his back pocket. He wanted to argue, to tell her that there was no way in hell she’d ever forgive him. But he knew Leslie well enough to know that there was no arguing with her.
He nodded once, stiffly. “Alright. I’ll… I’ll try.”
Leslie smirked, her eyes gleaming with something he couldn’t quite place. “Good luck. You’ll need it.”
As he turned to leave, the barn door creaked open behind him, and for a split second, his heart froze. He half-expected to see her there, standing in the doorway, glaring at him like she had on that road. But it was just another worker, coming in to start the day.
Max let out a breath, his hands clenching into fists at his sides. It had been one thing to face her the first time, in the heat of the moment. But now… now he had to go, hat in hand, and ask her to forgive him. To admit he was wrong. To dig up all the things he’d been trying to bury for years.
He shoved his hat back on his head and walked out of the barn, the piece of paper burning a hole in his pocket. The road ahead of him felt longer than it had ever been.
The next day, Max stood at the front steps of the small house, nerves twisting in his stomach like a coiled rope. He stared at the chipped paint on the door, feeling the weight of years pressing down on him. This was the house he’d been avoiding ever since he set foot back in town. And now, here he was—about to knock.
He took a deep breath, raising his fist and rapping his knuckles on the door. The sound echoed in the still morning air, louder than it had any right to be. For a moment, he thought maybe she wouldn’t answer, maybe he could just turn around and—
The door swung open.
She stood in the doorway, her eyes narrowing the second she saw him. Her hair was pulled back in a messy bun, and she wore an old flannel shirt that he recognised—one she stole off of him when they were kids. She didn’t look surprised to see him. If anything, she looked like she’d been expecting him.
“Nope,” she said flatly, her hand already on the door, ready to slam it shut. “Not happening.”
“Wait,” Max said, holding up his hands. “Just… just hear me out for a minute.”
“I don’t think I need to,” she shot back, her voice cold. “I’ve already heard enough.”
“Darling, please—”
“Do not call me ‘darling,’” she snapped, her voice sharp enough to cut. Her eyes flashed with anger, and Max felt the sting of it, like a whip cracking against his skin. “You don’t get to call me that anymore.”
Max took a step back, raising his hands defensively. “Alright, alright. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”
“You didn’t mean?” she interrupted, her voice rising, filled with a raw, seething rage that had been simmering for eight long years. “What, Max? You didn’t mean to leave me in a hospital bed without a word? You didn’t mean to disappear without so much as a goddamn goodbye?”
He swallowed hard, the guilt gnawing at him like it always did when he thought about that day. “I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t know how to face you.”
She let out a bitter laugh, crossing her arms over her chest as if to protect herself from him. “So, you just ran? That’s your excuse?”
“I wasn’t running,” Max muttered, but the words felt hollow even to him. He’d been running for years—he knew it, and so did she.
“Bullshit,” she spat, her eyes blazing. “You’ve been running your whole damn life. When things get hard, you don’t face them—you just pack your bags and leave. That’s what you did to me, and that’s what you’ve been doing ever since.”
He opened his mouth to argue, to tell her that wasn’t true, but the words died in his throat. She wasn’t wrong. He had run. He’d run the second things got complicated, the second he felt like he was losing control.
“I thought I was doing what was best,” he said finally, his voice quieter, less sure. “I thought you’d hate me if I stayed.”
Her jaw clenched, and she took a step forward, her fists balled at her sides. “You really think I could’ve hated you?” she said, her voice trembling with the weight of years of hurt. “You think I wanted you to just leave me behind like I didn’t matter?”
“I didn’t think I was enough for you!” Max burst out, the frustration and regret spilling out of him. “You were laid up in a hospital bed because of that fall, and I was getting calls about sponsors and competitions. I was torn in two, and I didn’t know what to do! I thought if I stayed, you’d see me as some reminder of what you’d lost, of the future we’d been planning and couldn’t have anymore.”
Her eyes widened, and for a second, the anger flickered, replaced by something else—something rawer, more vulnerable. “So, what? You thought I’d hate you? That I wouldn’t want you anymore? Out of pity?” She shook her head, stepping back from him as if the very thought disgusted her. “Is that what you really think of me?”
Max dragged a hand through his hair, hating how badly this conversation was going. “It wasn’t like that,” he said, his voice pleading now. “I didn’t want to be a burden. You’d just lost everything, and I didn’t want to remind you of the future you couldn’t have anymore. You deserved better than a guy who was barely hanging on.”
“Barely hanging on?” She seethed, her fists trembling. “You didn’t give me the chance to decide that! You didn’t even try to talk to me, to ask me what I wanted. You made that choice for me.”
“I thought I was doing the right thing!” Max shouted back, his frustration boiling over. “I thought if I walked away, you’d move on. You’d be better off without me, and I could… I could disappear before you realised I wasn’t enough.”
She stared at him, her chest heaving, her eyes burning with a mixture of rage and heartbreak. “You think leaving was easier for me? You think watching you drive off without a word made me better off?”
“I wasn’t strong enough to stay,” he admitted, his voice breaking. “I thought I’d hurt you more by sticking around. I thought you’d hate me, that you’d look at me and see someone who was staying out of pity.”
“God, Max,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. “You don’t even get it, do you?”
He swallowed hard, the weight of her words crushing him. “Then tell me,” he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. “Tell me what I didn’t see.”
She closed her eyes for a moment, her breath shaky as she tried to compose herself. When she opened them again, there was no anger left—just hurt. “You were everything to me. Everything. And you took that away because you were scared. You left me in that hospital bed, and you didn’t even let me fight for us. You made that choice, and I had to live with it.”
Max felt his chest tighten, the guilt and regret almost suffocating. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I’m so damn sorry.”
Her lip trembled, and for a moment, she looked like she might break. But then, just as quickly, she straightened up, hardening herself again. “Sorry doesn’t fix eight years, Max. Sorry doesn’t undo the fact that you abandoned me when I needed you most.”
He took a step closer, desperate to bridge the distance between them. “I’m here now. I want to make it right.”
She laughed bitterly, shaking her head. “It’s not that easy. You don’t get to just walk back into my life and pretend like nothing happened.”
“I’m not asking you to forget,” he said softly, his voice thick with emotion. “I know I can’t fix what I did. But I want to try. Please, just give me a chance.”
She stared at him for a long moment, her expression unreadable. Then, without another word, she stepped back inside and slammed the door in his face.
Max stood there, staring at the closed door, the sound of it still ringing in his ears. The weight of her words, the pain he’d caused, hung heavy in the air around him.
He slipped his hat back on, the brim casting a shadow over his eyes. As he turned and walked back to his truck, the gravel crunching beneath his boots, he realised something: he’d always been running. But for the first time in his life, he wasn’t sure if he could ever stop.
That night, Max couldn’t sleep. He tossed and turned, the weight of her words pressing on his chest like a stone. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw her face—angry, hurt, and accusing. It had been easier when he thought he was protecting her by leaving. Now, after their argument, it was clear that all he’d done was rip open a wound neither of them had been able to heal.
With a frustrated groan, he threw off the blankets and sat up in bed. Sleep wasn’t coming—not tonight. He rubbed a hand over his face and glanced at the clock. It was just after midnight, but it felt like the hours were crawling by, leaving him trapped with his thoughts.
His mind wandered to the only place that ever brought him a sense of calm: the rodeo. The old training grounds on the outskirts of town where he’d spent countless nights like this, working out his frustrations with the one thing he understood—bull riding. He hadn’t been back there in years, but tonight, it felt like the only place he could go to clear his head.
Throwing on a pair of jeans and his boots, Max grabbed his jacket and slipped out of the house, the cool night air hitting his face as he headed to his truck.
The rodeo grounds were quiet when he pulled up, the faint glow of the moon casting long shadows over the empty bleachers. The scent of dirt and leather filled his lungs, familiar and comforting in a way that nothing else had been since he’d come back to town. He walked toward the arena, the sounds of his boots crunching on gravel the only thing breaking the silence.
As he got closer, something caught his eye. Movement in the arena. At first, he thought it was just his mind playing tricks on him, but then he saw her.
She was on horseback, weaving through the barrels in the dim moonlight, her movements graceful and precise. It was like watching a memory come to life. She moved with a fluidity that made it look effortless, but Max knew better. He’d seen the hours she used to put in, the work that went into every sharp turn, every quick burst of speed. She hadn’t lost her touch.
He stopped at the edge of the arena, standing just out of sight, not wanting to disturb her. For a moment, he just watched, his chest tightening as he remembered how much she loved this—how much they had loved this world together.
Then, it happened. As she rounded the last barrel, something went wrong. Maybe her horse misstepped, maybe she pushed too hard, but in an instant, she was thrown off, hitting the ground hard. Her horse skittered to the side, startled by the fall.
Before he could stop himself, Max was moving. He vaulted over the fence and ran toward her, his heart pounding in his chest. She was sitting up by the time he reached her, dusting off her jeans with a wince.
“Who the fuck did I piss off in my past life for you to be the one to find me?” she muttered, her voice dripping with sarcasm as she glanced up at him.
Max skidded to a halt, a little breathless, and held up his hands in surrender. “I was just passing by. You okay?”
She shot him a glare that could’ve melted steel. “Like you care.”
He didn’t argue, just crouched down beside her, unsure of what else to do. “How can I help?”
“Help?” She laughed bitterly, shaking her head. “You really think you can help now, after everything?”
“I don’t know,” he said honestly, his voice softer than before. “But I’m trying.”
She rolled her eyes, but her usual fire seemed to be dimmed, just a little. “Doctor’s orders,” she said finally, wincing as she shifted her leg. “You wanna help? Raise my leg and keep it elevated for fifteen minutes.”
Max hesitated for a moment, unsure if she was messing with him or not. But the way she was holding her side, the tightness in her face, told him this was real.
He nodded and carefully slid his arm under her leg, lifting it gently and resting it on his knee. She didn’t protest, but she also didn’t look at him. They sat there in silence, the tension between them as thick as the night air.
The minutes dragged by, and Max could feel every second of it. He kept his gaze focused on the ground, resisting the urge to say something—anything—to break the silence. But she was the one who spoke first.
“You should’ve stayed gone,” she said quietly, her voice lacking the venom it usually held.
Max swallowed hard, his throat dry. “I couldn’t.”
“You mean you didn’t want to. Big difference.” She still wasn’t looking at him, her focus trained on the darkened arena ahead of them.
He shifted slightly, careful not to jostle her leg. “I missed this place,” he said after a long pause. “Missed the people. Missed… you.”
She scoffed, but there was less bite to it. “You missed me? Is that why you didn’t call for eight years? ‘Cause you missed me?”
“I didn’t know how,” he admitted, his voice low. “I thought you’d moved on. I thought it was easier for you if I wasn’t in the picture.”
“Easier?” She let out a humourless laugh. “Do you even hear yourself, Max? You just disappeared. You didn’t even give me the chance to move on, to deal with any of it. You just left, and I had to pick up the pieces.”
He clenched his jaw, the guilt settling deep in his chest. “I thought I was doing what was best.”
“Stop saying that,” she snapped, finally turning to look at him. Her eyes were filled with anger, but underneath it was something else—something softer, more vulnerable. “You keep saying that like it was some noble thing you did, but all you did was make a decision for both of us. You never even asked me what I wanted.”
Max opened his mouth to respond, but nothing came out. She was right. He hadn’t asked. He’d just assumed.
They fell into silence again, the weight of the unspoken things between them pressing down like a heavy fog.
After what felt like forever, she sighed, leaning back against the fence, her leg still resting on his knee. “You know,” she said quietly, “there was a time when I would’ve given anything to hear you say you missed me. But now… I don’t even know what to do with that.”
Max looked at her, his chest tightening at the sight of her so close, yet so far away. “I’m trying,” he said softly. “I know I messed up. I know I can’t fix what I did, but I’m here now. I want to make it right.”
She didn’t respond, just stared out at the empty arena, her face unreadable.
The silence stretched between them, and Max could feel the weight of it settling in his bones. He wanted to say more, to tell her everything that had been building inside him for years. But the words felt too small, too insignificant for the damage he’d caused.
After a long while, she spoke again, her voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t know if it’s enough.”
Max’s heart clenched, but he nodded. “I get that,” he said quietly. “But I’m not going anywhere this time.”
She didn’t say anything else, and the two of them sat there in the quiet of the rodeo grounds, with nothing but the stars and the distant sounds of the horses to keep them company.
For the first time in years, it wasn’t the silence that felt unbearable. It was the hope buried somewhere beneath it.
She shifted slightly, wincing a bit as she adjusted her leg on his knee. Max kept his hold steady, though every muscle in him was tense. He was waiting, unsure if she’d kick him out of her life again or keep him suspended in this strange limbo they found themselves in.
“What was it like?” she asked suddenly, her voice soft but cutting through the stillness. She didn’t look at him, just kept her eyes trained on the horizon, as if the answer was out there somewhere in the night sky. “To make it big? To live that life?”
Max glanced at her, surprised by the question. For a moment, he wasn’t sure how to respond. His instinct was to downplay it, to gloss over the highs and lows like he had so many times before when people asked. But this wasn’t just anyone asking—it was her.
He took a deep breath. “It was everything I thought it’d be,” he started, his voice low. “At first, anyway. The crowds, the money, the fame… it was wild. Everything moved so fast. One minute I was just this kid from nowhere, the next I was on posters, doing interviews, getting invited to places I’d never even dreamed of.”
He paused, rubbing the back of his neck as the memories flooded back. “The adrenaline—it’s like nothing else. Every ride, every victory, it felt like I was on top of the world. But the crashes… they’re just as big. Bigger, even.”
She listened quietly, her face unreadable. He wasn’t sure if she cared or if she was just being polite, but he kept going, needing to get it out.
“There were nights when I’d lie awake in a hotel room, hundreds of miles from home, and wonder what the hell I was doing,” he admitted, his voice softer now. “I was surrounded by people all the time, but I never felt more alone. It was like… like I was chasing something, and no matter how far I got, I couldn’t catch it. Every high came with a low, and after a while, the lows started outweighing everything else.”
She still didn’t say anything, her eyes fixed on the stars. He looked down at the ground, the dirt beneath his boots feeling more real than anything had in a long time.
“I got tired of it,” he confessed after a long pause. “Tired of the crowds, the noise, the pressure to be something I wasn’t sure I wanted to be anymore. I missed this place. I missed…” He trailed off, but she didn’t need him to finish the sentence. They both knew what he meant.
Finally, she turned her head slightly, her eyes finding his. “And you think you can just come back?” she asked, her voice steady but tinged with something bitter, something hurt. “After all of that? Just walk back into this life like nothing happened?”
Max swallowed hard. “No,” he said quietly. “I don’t think that. I know I can’t just… fix things. I’m not here to pretend that the past didn’t happen.”
She looked at him for a long moment, her gaze sharp, cutting through the quiet. “Why should I trust you?”
He didn’t flinch at the question. He’d been expecting it, waiting for it.
“You don’t have to,” he answered honestly, meeting her eyes. “I know I haven’t earned that. Not yet. Maybe not ever.”
Her jaw clenched, and she turned her gaze back to the arena. “You hurt me, Max. You didn’t just leave—you disappeared. Like I meant nothing.”
“I know,” he whispered, the words heavy with regret. “And I’m so damn sorry. If I could take it all back, I would.”
“Sorry isn’t enough,” she said, her voice trembling just slightly. “You don’t get to come back after eight years and expect me to forget what that felt like.”
He nodded, his throat tight. “I’m not asking you to forget. Or even to forgive me right away. I just want a chance to make things right. To prove that I’m not that guy anymore.”
She didn’t respond, just sat there in the silence, her leg still resting on his knee. It was a strange kind of intimacy—one built on years of unresolved hurt, but also on something deeper. Something neither of them wanted to name yet.
After a while, she sighed, her shoulders slumping slightly. “Nothing ever changed here, you know,” she said quietly, her voice almost a whisper. “While you were out there, living that big life, everything just… stayed the same. The same people, the same rodeos, the same barns. It was like I was stuck while you were off becoming someone else.”
Max’s chest tightened at her words. He couldn’t imagine what that must’ve felt like, to watch the world move on without her, to feel left behind. And worse, to know he was part of the reason she felt that way.
“I’m sorry,” he said again, the words feeling inadequate, but it was all he had. “I didn’t mean to… I didn’t want to leave you stuck. I thought you’d move on. I thought you’d—”
“Stop thinking,” she cut in, her voice sharp again, though there was a weariness in her eyes. “You keep telling yourself you did what was best for me, but you never asked me what I wanted. You just decided for both of us.”
He nodded, taking the hit. She was right, and he wasn’t going to argue with that.
She shifted again, pulling her leg off his knee and standing up, brushing the dirt off her jeans. Max stood too, though he kept his distance, unsure of what to do next. The tension between them was still there, heavy and thick, but something had changed. There was a crack in the wall she’d built around herself, just a small one, but it was there.
“Look,” she said after a long pause, her voice softer now. “I don’t know what you expect to happen. I don’t know if I can ever trust you again. But… I don’t hate you. Not anymore. I thought I did, for a long time. But it’s just… it’s hard to hate someone you used to love that much.”
His heart stuttered in his chest at the word “love.” Even though it was in the past tense, it still felt like a lifeline.
“I don’t expect anything,” he said quietly. “I just want to be here. Whatever that looks like.”
She gave him a long look, her eyes searching his face as if she was trying to figure out if he was telling the truth. Finally, she nodded, just once. “We’ll see.”
It wasn’t a promise. It wasn’t even close. But it was something.
She turned and started walking toward her truck, her steps slow, like she was still testing how much she could trust the ground beneath her.
Max watched her go, his hands shoved deep in his pockets, the weight of the past still pressing on him. But for the first time in a long time, he felt like maybe, just maybe, he had a chance.
And he wasn’t going to waste it.
part three
#f1#f1 imagine#f1 fanfic#formula one x reader#f1 x reader#max verstappen x you#max verstappen x reader#max verstappen fic#max verstappen imagine#max verstappen fanfic#max verstappen#max verstappen angst#red bull f1#red bull racing#formula one x you#formula one x oc#formula one#formula 1#f1 drivers#f1 tumblr#angst#bull rider au
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Beyond Boundaries - Oscar Piastri (PART TEN)
Masterlist
IM SO SORRY FOR THE LONG WAIT. My health has just been crap, had two hospitalizations for my chronic illness that got a flare up, but I'm back to writing now, with a long chapter!
↳pairing: oscar piastri x female!norris!reader ↳word count: 6K ↳chapters: One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Eight, Nine, Ten ↳chapter warnings: friends to lovers, brothers teammate trope, angst, bestfriend!reader, fluff, tortuously slow smut scene, seduction, smut, 18+ (MDNI!), handjob (m!&f! receiving), oral (f!receiving), making out, dirty talk, sub!oscar, dom!oscar, switch!oscar
↳series summary: Since Oscar joined McLaren as your brother’s teammate, you two have quickly become best friends. Recently promoted to be Oscar’s physiotherapist, you both relish the opportunity to spend more time together. However, as the new role brings you closer, you both realize you might be feeling more a little more for each other than just friendship
Oscar and Lando walked into Zak's office, the atmosphere immediately feeling thick with an unspoken tension. Zak stood by the window, looking out over the track before turning to face them with a serious expression.
"Take a seat, both of you," Zak said, his tone firm but not unkind. Oscar could feel his stomach twist with apprehension, Lando beside him shuffling awkwardly in his chair. Zak took a deep breath, folding his arms. "Alright, boys, let's cut straight to the chase. Oscar," he began, locking eyes with the young driver, "you need to watch out for your image. I understand things happen—you're young, life's fast, and sometimes emotions get the best of you. But kissing someone in public that you're not publicly dating, especially when that someone is a co-worker... it's not a smart move."
Oscar opened his mouth to speak, but Zak held up a hand to stop him. "The media's already catching on. Whispers are starting to circulate, and we need to get ahead of this before it turns into a full-blown story." Zak walked around to the front of his desk, leaning against it. "That's why we've discussed the subject within the team and have a proposition for you" he started, taking a breath "The idea is to put you in a publicity stunt—a fake relationship with a girl. Someone from outside the company, someone who can help steer the narrative away from... well, from the internal complications."
Oscar blinked, feeling a mix of surprise and disbelief. "A fake relationship?" he repeated, his voice almost a whisper. Zak nodded. "It's the best way to simmer down the talk. Give the media something else to focus on. You don't have to like it, Oscar, but it's probably what's best for now. We can't afford any distractions right now." Oscar nodded gently to his words, before Zak spoke up again "Or is there anything that we should maybe know about? Something more to the whole ordeal?"
The young Australian swallowed audibly, getting a little nervous "N-No, it's fine"
Lando noticed that Oscar didn't know what to say, visibly uncomfortable about it "He already got the lecture from Sophie" he said, taking a deep breath "I'm pretty sure he's aware that it was a very stupid mistake" Zak wordlessly agreed with Lando, so he continued on without more lecturing words. He looked at Oscar "So, what do you say?"
Lando shifted in his seat "Before he answers that, uh, why am I here, exactly?" he asked, his brow furrowed in confusion.
Zak turned to him, a slight smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Ah, well. We kinda had a similar proposition for you as well. If you'd both agree, we would set yours up in about 2 weeks after Oscar's" Lando's eyes widened. "What? Why?" Zak chuckled softly. "Come on, Lando. You haven't exactly been subtle with your... escapades with Daniel." Zak's tone was light, but his expression remained serious. "You've been trying to be, but it's starting to look pretty obvious." Lando flushed, glancing sideways at Oscar, who raised an eyebrow, slightly amused. "I'm not against it," Zak continued, "Not at all. But you need to think about what you're doing. If the media catches wind of it... if anything goes wrong... it'll bite you in the ass, hard." Lando sighed, running a hand through his hair. "So, you want me to fake-date someone too, just to throw them off?" Zak nodded. "Exactly. We need to control the narrative before the narrative controls us." Oscar exchanged a glance with Lando, both of them feeling the weight of Zak's words settle on their shoulders. "Understood," Oscar finally said, his voice steady. "I'll do it if it's necessary." Lando hesitated for a moment, then nodded as well. "Yeah... me too. Whatever it takes." Zak smiled, clapping his hands together. "Good. Glad we're all on the same page. Now, let's get to work."
"So, any details on how we're supposed to do this then? Like, for how long? And what do you expect from us regarding those girls?"
Zak looked at the two boys "Well, at least a month, I guess. I think that'll do to simmer down the suspicions "We'll find a girl for you that looks a little like Y/n, just so people think that the girl in the press picture was that girl"
Oscar nodded, shifting awkwardly in his seat, not really knowing how to act about this.
"From there we want to start with her joining you in the paddock during a race. Maybe hold her hand, give her a kiss, pretending to be subtle, while you actually just want the cameras to catch on to it" Zak explained, leaning back in his chair "Just do couple-like stuff with her. Share a picture of you both on social media, or don't. That's up to you. After a month, you can just give a short explanation on your social media about how you were dating, but mutually decided to break up and are better off as friends"
Lando shook his head "Do you have any idea how complicated this sounds?" he explained "I'm a formula 1 driver, not an actor. How do you expect me to fake being in love with someone?"
Zak sighed "I understand, Lando. You both don't have to do this if you really don't want to, but we all think it might be the best way to fight off the suspicions, in both of your cases"
Oscar shifted his eyes from his lap back to the man in front of him "So you even want us to kiss the girls in question?" he asked
"I'm not forcing you into anything, but I think we both know that the media will have a hard time believing that you're dating someone if you refuse to kiss them"
Later that day
Oscar was sprawled out belly down on his bed in his hotel room, replaying the conversation in his head over and over again. Lando was lying on the couch opposite Oscar’s bed, his eyes staring blankly at the ceiling.
“Fucking hell, mate,” Oscar muffled into his pillow, his voice heavy with frustration. “How am I even supposed to tell her this?”
Lando chuckled lightly, trying to lighten the mood. “I guess using words would work,” he sassed, earning a glare from the Australian driver.
Oscar rolled his eyes before grabbing the nearest pillow and launching it across the room. Lando puffed out an exaggerated “Ooff,” then tossed the pillow back. “Hey! I was just trying to diffuse the tension.”
Sitting up against the headboard, Oscar sighed deeply. “I know, but I honestly don’t know how to break it to her.” His voice softened as he admitted, “I know it’s weird talking about this since she’s your sister and all, but I honestly don’t want to hurt her.”
Lando offered a sympathetic smile, sensing the weight behind Oscar’s words. “It’s okay, I’m fine with talking about it. I know you mean well,” Lando reassured him.
Oscar’s shoulders slumped as he pulled his knees toward his chest. “It’s just… I felt like things were finally going in the right direction. And now this shit happens. You know how much that sucks? I thought I finally had a chance to win over the girl of my dreams.” His voice trembled slightly, the frustration clear in his tone. “And now I have to pretend I’m in love with some random girl and kiss her in public… with her right there.”
Lando noticed the glint of emotion in Oscar’s eyes, his usually calm and collected friend on the verge of tears. “I honestly don’t know what to say. It just sucks so much,” Lando admitted, sounding defeated himself. “Maybe you can just tell Zak you don’t want to do it if it makes you feel this bad.”
“I’m not doing this for me,” Oscar mumbled, his voice barely above a whisper. “I’m doing this for her. I don’t want her career to be ruined because of me.”
Lando sat up, his tone more serious now. “It’s not your fault, Osc. It takes two to tango.”
Tears started to fall down Oscar’s cheeks as he shook his head. “It is my fault. I should’ve suppressed my feelings. I shouldn’t have bothered her with them. She’s my best friend, your sister, and my damn trainer.”
“Look, Osc,” Lando said gently, "Osc, your her best friend as well, you're her client, you're her brothers teammate. She’s just as responsible as you are. It’s not all on you.”
Oscar’s voice cracked. “I just don’t want people to think less of her. I don’t want the press to call her a gold digger or say she’s using me. If fake dating some random model stops all this crap, I’ll do it.” He rambled on, not realizing how much he was pouring out his heart. “You know, if the drama would be just about me, the decision would be easy. I wouldn’t even consider the PR stunt, I couldn’t care less about my career when it cones to her. Hell, I’d even quit racing for her. She's all I think about. When I close my eyes, all I see is her. Lando, I am so in love with her it hurts”
Lando’s eyes widened, the weight of Oscar’s confession hitting him hard. After a brief pause, he spoke softly. “Mate, you’re not going to lose her over this. I know she’s not going to think less of you or let this ruin things between you. I mean, it’s obvious you care about her so much, and even if you’re not officially dating… it’s there. Anyone can see that. You should go for it.”
Oscar shook his head, his expression filled with uncertainty. “But I don’t want to risk her losing her job because of this.”
Lando leaned forward, his tone thoughtful. “But what if people don’t react the way we think? What if… instead of weird reactions, people actually love seeing you two together? A lot of drivers get shipped with each other, and the media loves my sister. Why wouldn’t they love you two together? Maybe we’re afraid of reactions that won’t even be there.”
Oscar hesitated, his brow furrowing. “But… we’re not even dating, Lando. I don’t even know what we are. We don’t have a label or anything. It’s all so uncertain.”
Lando grinned slightly. “Mate, the only reason you two aren’t official is because of your jobs and what other people might think. But even a blind person could see how in love you both are. You’re holding back for the wrong reasons. Don’t let that stop you.”
Oscar looked down, his emotions swirling inside him. “I just… I don’t want to make things worse for her.”
“Talk to her,” Lando urged. “She’ll understand. She’s smart, and she knows this whole fake relationship is just business. Nothing between you and that random girl means anything. It’ll be over before you know it.”
Oscar remained quiet for a moment, processing everything. “I’ll talk to her,” he muttered, his voice wavering with uncertainty.
“And don’t give up on her,” Lando added with a soft smile. “You care about her more than anyone else. My sister deserves someone who loves her as much as you do, and I know you’ll treat her well. Don’t let this fake PR crap get in the way of your own happiness.”
Oscar nodded, still uncertain but feeling the weight of Lando’s words sink in.
“If you need me to talk to her too, I will,” Lando offered. “A brother-sister chat might help clear her mind. Just keep communicating with her, Osc. You’ll get through this.”
The two drivers continued discussing the situation, with Oscar ultimately deciding that, for her sake, he didn’t want to risk going public yet. But he knew Lando was right—she would understand. It wasn’t ideal, and it sucked for both of them, but they had to keep talking, keep trusting each other.
“Yeah, it sucks,” Lando sighed, “but you’ll figure it out. You always do.”
Oscar smiled "Enough about me now, what about you and Danny, are you okay?" Oscar then asked.
Lando nodded "It sucks of course, but I think it's for the best, you know. Danny will understand. He knows how this world works" he explained, playing with the string of his hoodie as he spoke "Besides, Danny is well aware of my feelings for him. Things have been going steady between us for a while now, it's just that we both aren't really in the mood to drop the 'We are both bisexual and dating our former teammate' bomb, yet. So if this is the solution for us to continue under the radar a bit more, then I'm sure he's fine with it"
"That's good to hear" Oscar replied, a soft smile sporting his face.
"So, you're not grossed out about me dating a dude?" Lando asks, a little nervous, even though deep down he knew the answer.
Oscar shook his head immediately "Why would I be? Wouldn't make a difference if it were a boy or a girl, now would it? As long as the person makes you happy, I'm fine with anything" he says with a smile
"Besides, it was quite obvious you were into both men and women from the start. I think everyone within McLarens has the suspicion" Oscar chuckles.
A few hours later
Oscar had invited you to his hotel room for a cozy movie night before the chaos of race weekend officially began. That’s how you found yourself now, nestled comfortably in his arms on the soft bed, feeling the warmth of his body against yours. The movie was playing, but neither of you was really paying attention. Instead, your focus had shifted to the weightier topic Oscar had brought up—one that hung in the air between you both.
He’d already explained the situation. Told you what Zak had proposed. He’d kept the details brief, just covering the essentials. There was going to be a PR relationship—a fake one—with another girl. Zak thought it was best for both your images, and Oscar had agreed, reluctantly, explaining that there didn’t seem to be much of a choice in the matter. He looked torn as he spoke, clearly not on board with the idea but unsure of any other way forward.
You weren’t happy with it either, though deep down, you’d expected something like this. The media had been buzzing for days, and the rumors surrounding you both were becoming harder to manage. Agreeing to the plan felt like the safest route for now, despite the unease that settled in your chest.
Oscar sighed softly, his breath warm against your hair. “But… what about us, though?” he asked, his voice laced with hesitation.
You lifted your head slightly, meeting his eyes. “What do you mean?”
He averted his gaze for a moment, his voice dropping to a whisper. “I mean, I’d understand if you didn’t want to… try things with me anymore. If you have to watch me kiss someone else, even if it’s fake. I can imagine you wanting to call it quits.”
You could feel the vulnerability in his words, his uncertainty over how you felt. Slowly, you removed yourself from his embrace and shifted your position, climbing onto his lap so you could face him directly. His wide eyes followed your every movement as you settled on top of him.
"It’s not like you're kissing her by choice,” you said softly, your hand lifting to cup his jaw. Your thumb traced the sharp line of his jaw, and you leaned in closer, lowering your voice to a teasing whisper. “I'm assuming she's not the one making you feel like this, now is she?”
Without waiting for an answer, you leaned down, your lips brushing against the side of his neck in a slow, deliberate kiss. The moment your lips touched his skin, Oscar let out a soft, guttural groan, the sound almost desperate as his hands instinctively gripped your waist. Encouraged by his reaction, you trailed your lips higher, finding the sensitive spot just beneath his ear. You pressed a soft kiss there before sucking gently, enough to elicit another quiet sound from him, a mix of pleasure and restraint.
“You can fake date her all you want,” you murmured, your lips brushing his skin as you spoke. “But as long as I’m the one making you moan at night, none of it matters.” You continued to kiss along the curve of his neck, your lips slow and purposeful, savoring every inch of his skin.
Oscar’s breathing grew heavier, and you felt the tension in his body as his hands tightened their grip on your hips. His heart was pounding beneath your palm as you slid your hand over his chest, feeling the erratic rhythm beneath his shirt. You let your fingers trail down, tracing the defined lines of his torso through the fabric, your touch feather-light and teasing. It riled you up to see how sensitive Oscar is to your touch. How you can make him tremble with something as little as a kiss and a few words. You absolutely loved it.
“I know it’s me who makes you feel like this,” you whispered seductively, your voice barely above a breath as your lips moved closer to his ear again. “I’m the one who gets you like this, aren’t I?”
Oscar whimpered softly in response, his breath catching as your hand slipped under the hem of his shirt, your fingers grazing the bare skin of his abdomen. He was trembling now, his body betraying how deeply your touch affected him.
“I want to hear you say it,” you murmured, your lips brushing the shell of his ear. “Tell me, Oscar. Tell me how I make you feel.”
His response was almost immediate, though his voice was strained, barely able to form words through the haze of desire. “You… you make me feel… so good,” he groaned, his voice laced with need. “No one else—no one makes me feel like you do.”
You smiled at his confession, your lips curving as you kissed his jawline, slowly making your way back to his lips. Your fingers slid up his chest, your nails lightly grazing his skin, drawing more breathy moans from him as you continued your slow, torturous seduction.
When your lips finally met his, you kissed him slowly, deeply, your tongue teasing his as your fingers tangled in his hair, tugging gently at the strands. The combination of your touch and your kiss had him whimpering beneath you, his hands pulling you closer as if he couldn’t bear to have any distance between you.
“You might have to kiss someone else in public,” you whispered against his lips, pulling back just enough to speak, your eyes dark with desire. “But I know I’m the one who gets you like this. I’m the one who makes you feel good.”
Oscar groaned again, the sound desperate as his hands moved to your thighs, squeezing softly. His breaths were ragged, his body trembling beneath you, the tension between you both thick enough to cut through. He was completely at your mercy, lost in the slow burn of your teasing.
Your lips trailed back to his neck, and you could feel his pulse racing under your tongue as you kissed along the column of his throat, sucking gently on the skin as you moved. His chest rose and fell rapidly beneath you, each gasp and moan a testament to how much he was losing control under your touch.
“Tell me what you're thinking, baby” you whispered, your lips brushing against the sensitive skin just beneath his jaw. “Tell me what you want me to do.”
Oscar's breath hitched, his voice barely more than a strained groan. “I want you... to touch me,” he whimpered, his desperation raw. “I need you. Please.”
Your heart raced at his words, and you pressed a lingering kiss to his lips again, your hand sliding down his chest, savoring the way his body shuddered beneath your touch. You could feel the heat between you building, the anticipation thick in the air as you took your time, savoring every moment of his response.
He was yours—every groan, every shiver, every whispered confession. And you weren’t done with him yet. You loved the dynamic between Oscar and you. How one day Oscar could be the dominant one, but could switch to being completely at your mercy the other moment.
Your lips curved into a smile, savoring the power of his plea as you moved your hand slowly across his chest, teasing him further. "You've got to be more specific, Osc" Your lips pressed softly against the spot just below his jaw. “Tell me where you want me to touch you"
Oscar hesitated, his hands instinctively moving to guide yours lower, but you pulled away just enough to stop him. “Nuh-uh,” you tsked softly, a playful smirk on your lips. “I need you to tell me. Use your words.”
His breath hitched, and he swallowed hard, his hand dropping back onto the bed in defeat. He tried to stifle a whimper, but you could feel the need pulsing through him. Your fingers traced a slow, deliberate path down his torso, ghosting over the fabric of his shirt and sending sparks of sensation through his body. You paused just above his waistband, feeling the tension radiating from him, but deliberately avoided the spot you knew he was craving.
“Do you want me to touch you here?” you asked, letting your fingers trail along his hip before moving back up to his stomach. His muscles tensed under your touch, a soft groan escaping his lips.
You chuckled softly, your lips trailing to his ear as you whispered, “Or here?” Your hand moved to his chest, fingertips tracing circles around his nipples. Oscar bit his lip, his breath catching in his throat as his hips shifted beneath you, desperate for more. But you stayed teasing, your hand wandering, purposefully avoiding where he needed you the most.
"Tell me," you murmured again, pressing a kiss just beneath his ear. “Tell me what you want.”
Oscar whimpered, his voice strained and breathless. “I want… I want you to touch me,” he stammered, the words faltering as if he couldn't quite bring himself to say them fully. There was a part of him still clinging to the last shred of control, though deep down, he knew how much he craved letting go. The truth was, he loved this—loved you taking charge, more than he ever dared to admit. His body betrayed him, responding so eagerly to your dominance.
His eyes fluttered shut, his head falling back against the pillows as you continued your slow, deliberate torment. Every brush of your lips, every whisper of your touch, sent a fresh wave of electricity through him. He gripped the sheets beneath him, knuckles white, his body trembling under the weight of his need. The intensity of his desire threatened to overwhelm him, and yet, he couldn’t bring himself to ask for more, savoring the sweet torture of your control.
You smiled against his skin, your lips brushing his jawline as you murmured, “Touch you where, Osc? Tell me exactly where you need me.”
He groaned in frustration, his body writhing beneath yours, aching for release. “Touch me… there. Please,” he whispered, his voice so raw it sent a surge of heat through you. “I need to feel your hands around my dick.”
A low hum of satisfaction left your throat as you finally let your fingers slip lower, teasing the waistband of his joggers, the heat radiating from his body pulling you in closer. “Good boy,” you purred softly into his ear, your breath warm against his skin as your lips trailed along the curve of his neck, planting a lingering kiss that sent shivers down his spine.
Oscar’s reaction was immediate—his whole body tensed beneath you, hips instinctively jerking upward, desperate for more contact. The sound of your praise hung in the air between you, its effect unmistakable. He let out a soft, strangled groan, the sound thick with need, as if those two simple words had unlocked something deep inside him. His eyes fluttered shut, his lips parted in a breathless moan, and his chest rose and fell in uneven, rapid breaths.
You could feel him twitch beneath your touch, the heat and anticipation rolling off him in waves. The mere sound of your voice calling him a 'good boy' had clearly struck a chord, one he was too overwhelmed to put into words but too aroused to hide. A thin bead of precome slicked against your fingers as you brushed over him, his body betraying just how much he enjoyed the praise—more than he would ever dare to admit aloud.
His hands fumbled for something to hold onto, gripping the sheets beneath him as he squirmed under your touch. “Fuck…” he whimpered, his voice breaking. His reaction was so visceral, so raw, that you could feel how much control he was fighting to keep, how much he craved your touch
Your hand stayed teasingly light, fingers barely grazing him as you moved lower, your touch enough to make him throb beneath you, every sensation amplified by the tension in his body. You smiled against his neck, savoring how easily you could make him come undone with nothing but your touch and your words.
“You like that, don’t you?” you whispered, your lips brushing against the sensitive skin of his ear. His answer came in the form of another groan, his hips bucking once again, leaking more in response to your gentle touch, his desperation growing with every passing second.
The flush on his skin deepened, the way his body reacted betraying the depth of his desire. You could feel the tremble in his thighs, the way his breathing hitched each time your fingers brushed over him, how his whole body seemed to lean into every touch, silently begging for more.
“I bet you love hearing that,” you murmured, fingers curling just enough to give him a hint of pressure, your words laced with amusement and seduction. “Admit it, Oscar. You like being called a good boy, don’t you?”
He let out a shaky breath, his body jolting at the words, unable to hold back any longer. “Y-yeah,” he breathed, his voice strained and trembling, so close to unraveling completely under the weight of his need. He pressed his head back into the pillows, overwhelmed by the sensations flooding through him, his body a live wire of sensitivity.
“Good boy,” you repeated, the words rolling off your tongue like honey as your hand moved just a little firmer, eliciting a strangled moan from Oscar that sent a fresh wave of heat through you. The way he responded to you was intoxicating, his body fully under your control as he writhed beneath you, craving every touch, every whisper, every teasing word.
He couldn’t help it—he twitched again in your hand, the dampness of his arousal slick against your fingers as he leaked more precome, his desperation making it clear just how much he wanted to give in. The pleasure was almost too much for him to handle, his body caught in that sweet spot between torture and ecstasy.
And you weren’t done with him yet.
Your lips found his neck again, trailing soft kisses along his skin, whispering between each one, “See? No random girl could ever make you feel like this… right, Osc?”
He whimpered in response, his breathing ragged as he squirmed beneath you. “No… only you,” he groaned, his hands gripping your waist as if he needed something to anchor him in the storm of sensation you were unleashing on him.
You smiled, savoring his surrender, your fingers stroking him slowly, deliberately, drawing out every sound he made. His body trembled beneath you, each moan and whimper fueling your teasing touches as you kissed along his jawline, down to his collarbone, then back up to his ear.
“Are you thinking about that girl you have to fake date now? Thinking about if she's pretty, if she could make you feel like this too?” you teased softly, your voice dripping with seduction as your hand tightened just slightly around him.
Oscar shook his head, his voice barely a whisper. “No… never. Just you.”
You kissed him deeply then, your tongue slipping past his lips, slow and sensual, tasting the desperation in his breath. His hands gripped you tighter, pulling you closer as though he couldn’t get enough. His heart was racing, the pulse of his need pounding through him as your hand continued its slow, torturous rhythm, bringing him closer and closer to the edge.
“You’re mine, Osc,” you whispered against his lips, your hand quickening its pace ever so slightly. “No matter who you have to pretend with, it’s me who makes you feel this good, isn’t it?”
“Yes,” he whimpered, his voice barely coherent as he bucked against your hand, his body trembling with anticipation. “Only you… please…”
You grinned, knowing how close he was, and kissed him once more, slowly, deeply, savoring every moment of his unraveling. "That’s right. I’m the one that makes you feel like this. No one else.”
Oscar’s moans grew louder, his body trembling beneath your touch as you finally gave him what he’d been begging for, his breaths coming in short gasps as he lost himself completely in you. Every groan, every whimper, every desperate plea filled the air between you, his pleasure so intense it left him barely able to form words.
As you kissed along his neck again, you took his hands in yours and moved them from your back down to cup your ass, squeezing lightly.
His response was nothing but a breathless whimper as he gripped you tighter, his body arching into yours, completely at your mercy.
The teasing, the slow build-up, and your seductive whispers had him lost, spiraling into ecstasy. You could feel him slipping away, utterly consumed by the intensity of what you were doing to him, and you smiled against his skin, knowing that only you could bring him to this point.
Oscar’s moans filled the room, raw and unrestrained, his entire body shaking as he gave in, letting you take him to the edge of oblivion. And as he finally reached that peak, his voice cracked, your name falling from his lips in a broken, breathless moan.
You smiled, your lips grazing his ear as you whispered one last time, “That’s right, Oscar. You're mine"
It took Oscar a moment to slip back into reality before he sat up on the bed, his chest still heaving from the high they had just shared. Without warning, he wrapped his arms around you and lifted you off the bed in one swift, effortless motion, holding you close to him. You gasped, half-laughing in surprise, instinctively wrapping your arms around his neck as he carried you toward the bathroom.
“Where are we going?” you asked, raising an eyebrow, though a playful smile tugged at your lips.
He kicked open the door to the ensuite bathroom and placed you gently down on the edge of the sink, the cool countertop a stark contrast to the warmth radiating between the two of you. Oscar walked over to the shower, turning the water on with a steady hand, before striding back to you, his presence suddenly more commanding, more assertive.
Standing between your legs, his body pressed firmly against yours, he leaned in, his lips hovering just above your ear. “Showing you that you’re mine too,” he whispered, his voice low, seductive, full of intention “You belong to me.”
Before you could respond, Oscar’s lips were on your neck, his kisses slow and deliberate, each one sending shivers through your body. His fingers tangled in your hair, tugging it gently as he tilted your head back, exposing more of your neck to his assault. He kissed his way down the column of your throat, leaving a trail of heat in his wake.
“I’m not letting you wait for the water to warm up,” he murmured, his voice dark and teasing, his fingers already tracing the hem of your dress, slipping underneath to brush against your skin. He gripped the fabric, pulling it up with one swift motion before tossing it carelessly to the floor, his eyes devouring you, the hunger in them unmistakable.
His hand slid between your legs, fingers teasing, barely grazing you at first, drawing out the anticipation. He could feel how sensitive you were, how ready. You let out a soft moan as he pressed his lips against your jaw, trailing kisses down to the hollow of your throat. His fingers found their way inside you, moving slowly, torturously, making you squirm beneath him.
“You’re mine,” he growled softly, his breath hot against your skin. “No one else can touch you like this. Only me.” His fingers curled inside you just right, hitting all the right spots, and you let out a breathless whimper in response, your body arching into him. “Say it,” he demanded, his voice commanding but still gentle. “Tell me you’re mine.”
His smirk grew as you struggled to hold back, his fingers now moving with more purpose, each touch a mix of pleasure and dominance.
"I-I'm yours" you moaned out, unable to form a coherent sentence "F-Fuck, this feels so good"
He smirked, pleased with your reaction, his thumb brushing over you in just the right way, coaxing even more desperate sounds from your lips. "That's it... let me hear you," he murmured, his voice commanding but still gentle, coaxing out every bit of pleasure as he continued his slow, torturous rhythm.
When he finally couldn’t take it any longer, he scooped you up in his arms again, carrying you toward the shower. The water had begun to steam up the glass as he pressed your back against the cool tiles, the heat from the shower blending with the heat from his body. His lips crashed into yours, the kiss deep, passionate, filled with need. The water poured over both of you, soaking your skin as Oscar's hands roamed your body, his fingers tangling in your hair, his palms gripping your hips, your thighs, every inch of you.
Without breaking the kiss, he dropped to his knees in front of you, his hands sliding down your sides as the water cascaded down your bodies. He kissed your inner thighs, his lips agonizingly slow as they made their way higher, teasing you just as you had done to him before. You could feel the smirk on his lips as he drew closer, his breath hot against your skin, his hands gripping your hips, holding you in place.
“You’re my girl,” he said softly, his voice laced with dominance as he looked up at you from his knees. “No one else can have you. Not now, not ever.” Then, without warning, his tongue flicked out, teasing you with the lightest touch. You gasped, your hands instinctively reaching for his hair, gripping tightly as his tongue worked slow, deliberate circles, driving you mad with desire.
His hands roamed your body as he continued his slow torment, one gripping your ass, the other sliding up your back, pulling you closer to him. He was everywhere at once, his touch all-consuming, his tongue alternating between soft strokes and firmer pressure, teasing you, driving you to the edge.
Oscar’s fingers joined his tongue, sliding into you in perfect sync with the rhythm he set, the slow, torturous pace making you tremble. Every flick of his tongue, every curl of his fingers was designed to push you higher, the tension in your body building with each passing second.
“Tell me how I make you feel,” he whispered between strokes, his breath hot against you, and when you couldn’t answer, too lost in the pleasure, he smirked. “That’s what I thought.” His tongue circled again, his fingers curling just right, and your body responded, arching into him, your grip on his hair tightening as the pleasure became almost unbearable.
He continued to work you over, switching between his tongue and fingers, his touches slow, purposeful, drawing out every sound, every moan. His hands never stopped exploring, roaming your body, massaging your thighs, your hips, your breasts, every inch of you as he brought you closer and closer to the edge.
When you finally reached your peak, it was as if the world around you disappeared. You shattered against him, your body convulsing as waves of pleasure crashed over you, and Oscar didn’t stop, carrying you through it, his tongue and fingers still working you until the very last tremor left your body.
“That's it, baby” he whispered softly, his voice a mix of satisfaction and possessiveness as he kissed his way back up your body, pulling you close as the water continued to soak you both.
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She…What? Part Seven
Oscar Piastri, Daniel Ricciardo, Lando Norris x reader
Oscar admits to her that he’s not particularly experienced in the world of sex, yet he doesn’t feel as ashamed about it as he expected. Lando and Daniel have their usual hotel chat in which Lando reminds his friends of his impeding bedtime. Although the Australian would rather spend an evening with her
2.4K words | 18+
Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist
She pulled back slightly, remaining in his lap. "What do you mean, Oscar?" She whispered, eyes wide as her hands slid up his arms slowly. "I'm not really experienced with this kind of thing." The Australian's eyes were closed, hiding his embarrassment. "Ever? Or in terms of a contract relationship?" She questioned with a small smile, trying to lighten the mood. Oscar's hands would have made dents in her skin if he was training any harder. "Well I've done some stuff. Just not all the way." A blush rose to his cheeks as she was finally able to see his eyes.
She slowly moved behind Oscar, wrapping her arms around his neck. "That's okay. Usually I'd be a bit of a tease and and walk away from you right now, leave you high and dry. But I don't have to tease you too much." She giggled resting her chin on top of his head, making his hair impossibly messier. "There's no need to be mean." He pouted, crossing his arms over his chest in disgust. "Hey. I'm not trying to be mean." She gasped in false offence, squeezing his arms playfully. "I'm just informing you of what you're getting involved with." She smiled, pulling away and standing up. "Then we can just talk for a while. Perhaps we can get to know each other better in that time, more than that you're a voyeur." She giggled, taking a small sip of wine, lifting the bottle up slightly. "I don't drink wine." Oscar started, getting up from the bed. "I can only have hard liquor, otherwise my trainer will complain." He finished, reaching for the bottle of whisky. "So you don't drink beer or cider either. Just the the stuff that will get you drunk quicker?" She asked in disbelief.
Oscar shook his head before speaking. "I hardly drink actually." He turned watching her slowly drink the red liquid, not once looking away from him. "That's going to change soon. Not just because you're winning races now." She smiled, moving through the room gracefully, noticing Oscar's lingering gaze. "You can speak you're mind, I wont judge you." He was finally pulled out of his gaze by her words. "I'm just taken aback." Oscar's filter slowly dissolving after a few sips of the drink. "You're gorgeous." He whispered once he was closer, reaching out to brush his fingers over her face.
Oscar was shocked with how forward he was being, yet he felt so draw in, and he didn't want to be let go. "How sweet of you Oscar." She smiled, pulling him in close, waiting for his reaction. The Australian could feel the blood pumping harshly through his body as his hands came up to cup her cheeks. He groaned quietly, finally feeling his lips against her, the level of relief he felt was unprecedented. Oscar pushed her down slowly, feeling his knee slip between her legs. He didn't know what came over him in that moment, his neurons were clearly delayed to his central nervous system. Oscar pulled back with a quiet 'sorry' before moving to the end of the bed, annoyed with himself, he wasn't one to wear his emotions on his sleeve and so sat there with a straight face, battling his thoughts. "Oscar." She repeated, trying to pull him out of the trance. "I know we said we would only talk, but that doesn't mean I'm upset with you." She reasoned, reaching for his drink and taking a small sip. He raised an eyebrow at her action but didn't move to stop her, if anything he wanted her to continue. He wanted her to completely consume him.
"What did you want to talk about?" Oscar struggled to get out, his nerves coming through. "What you like, what you want. Anything." She brought the whiskey up to his lips, waiting for him to finish the glass. He was definitely out of his depth here, almost alarmingly so. But Oscar would do anything she asked. "Okay then...I want to know more about how this relationship works, at least in your words." Oscar was always straight to the point she soon came to realise. "Well, it's really whatever you want it to be." She brought her hand up to his hair, running her fingers through the messy strands. "So what is it to Daniel and Lando?" He questioned, focusing on her lips, mainly the colour of the gloss. "You may have to ask them. But from my point of view it feels almost like friends with benefits, at least in a way. It's difficult to describe. But I've know Daniel much longer than Lando so it's a little bit different."
"In what way?" Oscar quizzed, he was clearly a person who liked research. "I suppose it's a bit more romantic with Daniel, at least in a way. He sorts out hotels, flights, holidays and so on. He's much more involved in my personal life than Lando. Not that either of them mind, it's what they want." Oscar was slightly overwhelmed with the information being fed to him, some was left up to his interpretation. "And if i wanted to be more involved with your personal life?" Oscar's eyes fell to his lap momentarily, as if he was preparing himself for the worst. "If that's what you want, then yes." A weight was lifted from the Australian's shoulders and a small smile adorned his face.
A small sigh escaped Oscar's lips before he spoke. "Okay, then how does this work logistically?" She stood up slowly, walking towards the open bottle of wine. "It depends, we all have to talk about certain things, but mostly just call or text me and we go from there. If I'm honest i wouldn't suggest waltzing into this, or any, hotel room. Then again, you like that so." She shrugged her shoulders. "I'm never hearing the end of that, am I?" She giggled and shook her head turning back towards him. "So, what do you like, or at least what do you want to try?" A wave of worry washed over him when her words finally registered, too focused on the way the robe presented her tits. "If I'm being completely honest, I've only done oral, both giving and receiving, but not a whole lot. So I'm not very good at it." Oscar's shame was apparent, he didn't think that he should be as inexperienced as he was, especially at his age. "That's not world ending, you can learn, you can experiment and find out what you like too. There's nothing wrong with that." She tried reassuring him, rubbing her hands over his arms softly. "I don't really know what I want to try."
At the same time, in Lando's hotel room, Daniel and Lando were discussing the ins and outs of the current relationship. "So, how do you feel about Oscar?" Lando questioned, jumping onto the bed in a childlike manner. "He's alright, we've had a proper chat so, I think it's all good now." Daniel started before placing himself on the end of the bed. "I was being bitter, he wanted the seat and he was concerned about me before signing so it's alright. I think if i drove that third year at McLaren it would have been a career ender for me, I don't even think RB would have me. So maybe Oscar signing was good for me. I don't know." Daniel trailed off looking at the ceiling, this was the first time he'd said such a thing out loud, and it felt good. "And how do you think he's gonna handle her?" Lando continued, rolling onto his stomach. "I think he'll be okay. She won't be as hard on him. She know's he wont be able to handle that level of teasing, I made sure of that." Daniel smirked, turning to see Lando's face.
"Oh really, it only took a few days to end her teasing." Lando stated, looking up as if he was imagining the first time he was with her. "You had it easy. Seven months of back and forth flirting before I even had the chance to go out with her. Trust me, you're lucky." The Australian confirmed, pulling his jumper off. "So what? Oscar's gonna get her tomorrow?" Daniel laughed at his friend almost mockingly. "Oh no. She'll make him wait, tease Oscar enough to have him begging for her. It's what she does well. You know that. You just broke before I did." Daniel pulled his phone out of his pocket quickly, looking at the messages she had sent him. "That's not very nice." Lando's hand came up to his heart, clenching the shirt, trying to feign offence. "Don't be dramatic. The amount of times I got blue balls was unreal." Daniel sighed, shaking his head at the painful thought. "I didn't need to know that." Lando groaned, running his fingers through his hair. "Oh please, you've heard worse." He rolled his eyes, locking his phone and sliding it back into his pocket. "Going to bed? That's good, you don't need RB to give you a bedtime." Lando joked, lifting his head up. "No actually, I know what toys she brought so..." Daniel smirked, closing the door before he left.
Daniel hummed while walking through the hallway of the hotel, looking for room 609. He knocked loudly, excited to see her. "Hey Darling." He said in a husky voice, leaning against the doorframe. "Smooth." She laughed, pulling him into the room by the collar of his shirt. "So what did you learn?" Daniel's excitement was radiating from him as he walked towards her suitcase. "A few things, mostly that he's not that experienced." She stated, climbing on the bed, looking over at Daniel, who seemed to be in a very difficult internal debate. "Of course, both me and Lando are sluts. How could I forget." Daniel joked, walking back towards the bed. "You've got qualifying tomorrow, you need rest." She reasoned. Daniel had spent so much time and effort getting back into the sport, and she didn't want to be the reason he couldn't get a top seat. "It's fine Darling, it's not even late." Daniel emphasise his point by showing her his watch. She rolled her eyes playfully, crossing her arms over her chest.
"I can't believe you. Lando really is blind." Daniel laughed, stripping of his clothes. "You know I had to explain to him how long you were teasing me for. He didn't believe it." She stood up, slowly undoing the belt of the robe, letting it fall to the ground slowly, revealing lace underwear. She bent over slightly, reaching for the waistband before Daniel spoke. "I don't think so. Come here." He lifted his hand up, pulling her down. "And you complain about me teasing." She joked, reaching up to tug on his hair lightly. "Don't start with me, not tonight. And you were the one complaining about sleep, look at you now." Daniel hands came to rest behind her knees and he shifted his body slightly. His right hand traveled from her knee up to her thing, feather light touches teasing her. His fingers danced over her skin and his eyes shifted up, looking for a reaction. "Daniel." She scolded. "Oh government name. I really must be in trouble." Daniel's hands finally made it to her pelvis, toying with the lace before tugging on the waistband. Soon the sound of vibrating met her ears. "Danny." Her gasp bounced off the walls as her hands grasped the bedsheets. "Careful. Don't want Oscar to hear." Daniel's playful tone didn't go unnoticed. Daniel pressed the red vibrator onto her clit harshly, enjoying the look on her face. Daniel lifted the toy away from her before placing in back, teasing as much as he could. "That's it." He whispered, lifting her leg up higher, needing to get closer. She could feel the vibrations coursing through her whole body, sending goosebumps up her arms and pulling quiet moans form her lips. "Stop teasing me Danny." She spoke though gasps, eyes wide open, noticing the smirk adorning his face. "Oh but you like teasing"
Daniel was quick to push the lace to the side and line his cock up with her cunt, rubbing the tip over her clit lightly. "Always making me wait. Lucky I don't do the same to you." He uttered, slowly pushing his cock in, inch by inch. Her legs wrapped around Daniel's waist quicky, pulling him in closer. "That's it." She whispered as Daniel began to rock his hips, slowly to start, before he connected their lips. There was a level of almost unknown passion, almost as if she had manifested it. They both knew that there was a romantic aspect to their relationship, but even now, they were surprised. Daniel's hands didn't move from her skin. He wanted to be close to her, he didn't want her to ever leave him, he needed her with him. Daniel's groans and grunts filled the room as he got closer, her voice only edging him closer. "So close, Darling." The Australian gasps, pushing into her cunt fast, desperate to finish. "Gonna cum. Fuck." Daniel painted her stomach white with a loud groan, his head fell into the curve of her neck, panting loudly.
"So good to me, Darling." Daniel whispered into her skin, although those were the only coherent words the only ones she could understand. She threaded her hands through his hair, playing with his curls. "So pretty." The Australian had is eyes closed, thinking about their time together, from when they first met to six months ago. He focused on her, no matter if they were in a hotel or a beach, it was all her.
They laid on the bed in comfortable silence, just enjoying the feeling of each other. "We can shower in the morning, I just want to stay here." She whispered, pulling Daniel impossibly closer. He nodded into her skin before speaking, "Come here...Just want to stay with you." They shifted so they were covered with the quilt, Daniel's arms circled her middle, keeping her close. "What's the plan for tomorrow then?" She asked, looking up at Daniel with a sweet smile. "We'll go get some food and take a nice track walk before free practice." She nodded wordlessly, resting her head on his chest. Darkness filled the room as her eyes closed, feeling Daniel's fingers draw shapes mindlessly on her back. Just as sleep began to overtake her she felt Daniel kiss her cheek before she heard his words. "I love you, Darling."
#f1 x reader#f1 smut#f1 x reader smut#f1 fanfic#f1 imagine#f1 fic#lando norris x reader#lando norris#daniel ricciardo smut#lando norris x reader smut#daniel ricciardo x reader smut#oscar piastri x reader smut#oscar piastri 81#lando norris x fem!reader#lando norris x you#daniel ricciardo x female reader#oscar piastri x you
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Our Little Secret (Part 64)
Pairing: Cillian Murphy x Reader
Warning: Infidelity, Age-Gap, Triggers, Smut
An hour later, and after Cillian had put Mara to bed, you sat down on the couch and opened a bottle of wine. You were feeling a bit anxious about the upcoming intimate scene between Cillian and Annabelle, and you couldn't shake off the feeling of unease that had been brewing inside of you since you had left the restaurant. You knew that you had no reason to feel that way. Even if there was something between Cillian and his costar, it was really none of your business.
As if sensing your discomfort though, Cillian sat down beside you, filling himself up a glass of red as well. "Hey, what's wrong?" he asked, looking at you with concern.
You took a deep breath before turning to him. "It's nothing, really," you said, trying to suppress the emotions churning inside you, but Cillian knew that something was bothering you. He took a sip of his wine before setting the glass down on the coffee table and leaned towards you.
"What is it?" he asked, putting a comforting hand on your shoulders.
You hesitated for a moment before confessing the events that had taken place at dinner that evening. "It's just that...," you began but stopped yourself. "I don't know. I had to think about that article recently and I was wondering whether, you know, never mind," you said, your voice trailing off as you looked away from him.
Cillian's grip on your shoulder tightened slightly. "No, what is it?" he asked, his voice soft yet insistent.
"Well, it is just about that article in the Irish Times, where it said that you and Annabelle had an affair back in 2014 while you were married to Danielle and, after meeting her, I am still wondering whether there was some truth to it," you finally admitted in a low voice, pressing your lips together in a tight line.
"What?" Cillian chuckled, pulling away slightly as he stared at you with disbelief. "What makes you think that?" he asked, raising an eyebrow at you in amusement.
"Did you not notice her flirting with you all evening?" you asked, unable to hide the incredulity in your voice.
"Flirting with me?" Cillian looked surprised. "You mean her comment about my eyes?" he asked, a puzzled expression on his face. "That wasn't flirting, Y/N. She was just making a joke. I can assure you that there has never been anything between her and me, other than a professional relationship. We worked together on a show and that's it," he said, his voice steady and sincere before pausing slightly. "Also, I don't know why you even care, because we aren't together anymore, so...," Cillian sighed heavily, taking a deep breath, trying to collect his thoughts just before you continued, asking him another question.
"How does this work, with the intimate scenes and all?" you asked, feeling your nerves getting the better of you as you tried to make sense of the things you were feeling.
Cillian took a deep breath, rubbing his forehead as if weary. "Uhm, what do you mean?" Cillian asked, looking taken aback by the abrupt change in topic.
"You know, with scenes and stuff," you stated, gesturing vaguely with your hand.
Cillian gave you a puzzled look. "No I don't know. What's your question?" he wanted to know, trying not to appear annoyed.
"Do you actually kiss her, like properly? And touch her? I mean, if you do, I am not really surprised that she thinks that...," you trailed off, causing Cillian to interrupt.
"Listen Y/N, these scenes are awkward at best. They are the most uncomfortable scenes to film, and I don't actually think that any actor enjoys doing them," Cillian sighed, setting his wine glass down on the table before leaning forward in his seat to face you. "And yes, my character kisses her character. There is some touching too, but it means absolutely nothing, because it is all part of an act and nothing more," Cillian continued as you took a big sip from your glass.
"Come on though, you can't tell me that you don't enjoy kissing a really pretty woman like her," you replied, a bit of playful sass in your voice, trying to lighten the mood.
"No, I don't," Cillian said with a deadpan expression on his face. "It's awkward as fuck and she is not really my type,"
he added with a slight chuckle. "Trust me, filming those scenes is as unenjoyable as it sounds."
You took another sip of your wine, nodding slowly in agreement. "Alright, I get it," you finally admitted, taking a deep breath before continuing. "I am sorry that I asked, but it just had me wondering because the way she was looking at you tonight... I don't know, I guess I just had to ask," you explained, shrugging slightly as you looked down at your hands.
Cillian let out a sigh before responding. "Because you are jealous?" Cillian asked softly, his eyes never leaving your face.
You took a deep breath, trying to find the right words. "No," you finally said, shaking your head. "Well, maybe just a little." You looked up at him, meeting his gaze. "I don't want you to get the wrong idea, but seeing her looking at you like that brought back a lot of memories and I guess I just couldn't help but feel...weird?"
Cillian raised an eyebrow at you. "Weird?" he repeated, sounding amused.
You rolled your eyes. "Yes, weird. Like I still care about you. A lot."
"Right," Cillian tilted his head, a curious expression gracing his features. He took a slow sip of his drink while eyeing you thoughtfully. "Do you still love me?" Cillian asked, setting down his wine glass as his eyes locked onto yours.
"Yes," you admitted softly, unable to tear your gaze away from his. "I guess I do still love you, Cillian and I miss being with you, so fucking much," you confessed, your voice cracking slightly with emotion. "I just want to go back to the way things used to be, the way it was between us before everything fell apart."
Cillian swallowed hard at your words, his eyes softening with understanding. "I know what you mean," he replied, taking a deep breath before continuing. "I miss it too. I miss being with you, talking with you, sleeping next to you. I miss everything about us," he whispered, his eyes never leaving yours.
You took a deep breath, feeling your heart racing at his words. You missed him too, all of those little moments you used to share, the stolen kisses, the way he would always wrap his arms around you protectively, making you feel cherished and loved.
"Do you think we could give us another chance?" you asked hesitantly, your voice barely above a whisper, taking Cillian by surprise.
For months, he had begged you to take him back and now that you had finally brought it up, he found himself at a loss for words.
He looked at you, taking in your hopeful expression and the way your eyes seemed to dance with excitement. "Yes," he finally said, his voice barely audible. "You know I would do anything for you to give me another chance," he went on, his voice unsteady with emotion.
"Okay, I will give you another chance, but don't fuck it up," you said sternly, trying to keep the emotion out of your voice.
Before Cillian could respond, you leaned forward, capturing his lips in a passionate kiss, your body molding against his as you let yourself get swept up in the moment.
"I love you," he whispered against your lips, his hands coming up to cup your face as he deepened the kiss, making you moan softly.
"I love you too," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper as you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer still.
For several long moments, you lost yourself in the kiss, the taste and feel of Cillian driving any lingering doubts from your mind as you reconnected with a man you could never truly forget.
You didn't know if it was possible for things to be the same between the two of you again, but you wanted to try, and it seemed Cillian felt the same.
When you finally broke the kiss, you pulled back to gaze into his eyes, and there was a passionate intensity that made your heart race faster.
"I want us to live together as a family . Just you, me, and Mara. I want us to try and build a life together," you said, looking into his eyes with all the sincerity you possessed.
For a moment, Cillian simply stared at you, stunned by your sudden declaration, but then a slow smile spread over his face as he nodded in agreement.
"I thought you weren't ready for that?" he murmured, searching your face as if trying to gauge your certainty.
You took a deep breath, letting it out slowly before meeting his gaze evenly. "I wasn't then," you admitted truthfully. "But I am now. I want to try, Cillian. I want us to be a proper family, no matter what that entails."
Cillian stared at you for a moment longer, as if trying to determine whether or not you meant what you were saying, before he wrapped his arms around you in a tight embrace that spoke volumes.
"I want that too," he breathed into your hair, his arms tightening around you protectively.
The relief that washed over you in that moment was something you couldn't quite describe. For the longest time, you had longed for the kind of connection you had once shared with Cillian, feeling lost and adrift without that guiding force in your life, and now, finally, it seemed as though there was a chance to rebuild.
"Good," you smiled , burying your face in his neck as you pressed yourself closer to him, relishing in the feeling of his arms wrapped around you.
It was a bittersweet moment, knowing that there was still work to be done, but you felt a renewed sense of hope, taking solace in the fact that you would have him by your side as you navigated through the challenges ahead.
"Now show me how much you still want me!" you then told Cillian, pulling out of the kiss and looking at him with eyes that were so filled with desire that you could hardly contain yourself.
Cillian didn't need any further encouragement. He pulled you closer, his hands wandering over your body as he kissed you deeply, his lips hungry for yours.
"God, I've missed this. I've missed you," he whispered in between kisses, trailing them down your neck before reaching beneath your t-shirt to cupping your breasts over your bra.
You moaned softly, arching your back as you pulled him closer. "I want you so much," you breathed out, your voice hoarse with desire.
Cillian's hands wandered over your body and, before you knew it, he pulled your t-shirt over your head, leaving you in your bra and jeans.
His tongue trailed a hot path down your neck, before placing kisses across your collarbones.
Eventually, helped you slide your jeans off too, tossing them aside, leaving you in just your lace underwear. Cillian's hunger was evident in the way his hands and mouth greedily explored your body, his fingers tracing the edge of your underwear with a hint of tease.
"Take this off," you told him, tucking at his t-shirt at the same time. Cillian obliged, pulling it off to reveal his toned chest, covered in soft curls of hair.
You couldn't help but let your gaze linger on him a little as your hands wandered over his bare skin, feeling the muscles twitch beneath your fingers.
Cillian groaned at the sensation of your exploring touch, his hips bucking sharply against yours as he pulled you closer.
Your lips found each other's again and you kissed him deeply, almost desperately, as if trying to make up for the lost time.
Not long after, his jeans came off too and he was left in just his briefs, his thick erection pressed against your thigh.
You couldn't help but moan softly at the sensation, a shiver of lust running down your spine as you realized just how much you needed this. The past months had been challenging, to say the least, but now, with Cillian, you felt as if you could finally breathe again.
"Fuck Y/N," Cillian groaned, his hands sliding down to your waist, pulling your hips closer to his. "I want you so badly right now," he whispered, nipping at the skin of your neck as he unclasped your bra, letting it fall to the floor.
His hands wandered over your bare breasts, his thumbs grazing over your nipples, making you gasp at the sudden spark of pleasure that ran through your entire body.
You reached down, gripping his erection through the fabric of his briefs, making him growl low in his throat as his hips thrust forward.
"Jesus," Cillian breathed out, his fingers tightening on your hips.
"Let's just skip the foreplay for tonight. I really need to feel you inside me," you whispered into his ear, your hot breath making his cock twitch in anticipation.
Cillian groaned in response, pulling you even closer as he kissed you deeply. "Are you sure?" he asked against your lips, his tongue tracing the curve of your bottom lip. "Because you do know very well what my mouth can do."
"Yes, I am sure," you replied, tugging at the waistband of his briefs. "I really need your cock right now!"
Cillian didn't need any more encouragement. He quickly pulled the fabric of his briefs down and kicked it aside while you stood up and got rid of your panties quickly before climbing on top of him.
Your wetness brushed against the tip of his cock, making you let out a low moan before you positioned yourself above Cillian and slowly sank down on him.
"Oh fuck," Cillian groaned, his head falling back on the couch as you sheathed him fully inside of you. You let out a deep, shuddering groan of your own, relishing in the pleasure of being filled by him again.
You didn't waste any time. With one swift motion, you pushed yourself down, taking him all the way in.
"Fuck, Y/N," Cillian groaned, hands gripping your hips tightly.
You started to move up and down, savoring the feeling of his thick cock filling you up, the sensation of his skin sliding against yours, the sounds of his grunts and moans as you pleasured each other.
You rode him with abandon, the couch creaking and groaning with the force of your movements.
You could feel Cillian's cock hitting your deepest spots, again and again, in a rhythm that was both delicious and maddening.
"Fuck, you feel amazing," Cillian groaned, hands gripping your hips tighter as he bucked his hips up towards you.
You could only moan in agreement, the sound escaping your lips as you increased your pace. You could feel yourself getting close, the familiar tingling sensation starting to build in your lower belly.
"I am planning to do this every night from now on. Every fucking night!" you panted out, throwing your head back as you felt the beginnings of your orgasm building within you.
Cillian's fingers dug into your hips as he thrust upwards, matching your rhythm. "Yes, every fucking night," he agreed, his voice strained with lust.
You could feel his cock swelling inside you, telling you that he was close too. "Fuck, I'm gonna cum," you cried out, your fingernails digging into his shoulders as you rode him harder and faster.
You left scratch marks on his skin as you clung to him, trying to hold on as your orgasm built to a crescendo.
Cillian wrapped an arm around your waist, percentage guiding you, his breath hot and ragged against your ear as he hammered into you from below.
The corners of your vision blurred as colors danced behind your eyes, your body writhing and convulsing as your orgasm enveloped you completely.
"Yes, yes!" you screamed.
Cillian's thrusts faltered slightly as he felt the walls of your pussy trembling and fluttering around him, milking him for every drop of cum he had, before he too, pushed over the edge.
"Fuck, I'm cumming!" he cried out, voice hoarse and strained as his body stiffened and convulsed beneath you. His cock swelled impossibly harder and thicker as rivers of warm cum pumped deep into your core, filling you to the brim with his essence.
"Oh fuck, I'm still cumming!" Cillian groaned, his hips bucking faster and faster as you milked him dry.
You collapsed against him, panting and spent, your body and mind in complete ecstasy.
Cillian's arms wrapped around you as he breathed in ragged gasps, his cock still twitching inside of you.
For a moment, you just lay there on the couch, your two bodies pressed tightly together, hearts beating in sync as if to a wild, primal rhythm.
Cillian's chest rose and fell against yours, hands gently stroking your back in slow, soothing motions. You could feel the aftershocks of your orgasm still rippling through your body, still trembling with the overwhelming force of it.
Cillian too, remained inside you, still half-hard, his warm semen slowly leaking from your swollen pussy and trickling down your thighs.
After what felt like an eternity, you finally managed a weak laugh, burying your face in Cillian's neck.
Your entire body felt deliciously heavy and languid with pleasure, and it took every ounce of your willpower to push yourself up slightly off his chest just so you could look into his face.
"That was amazing," you whispered, your lips curling up into a soft smile of pure satisfaction as you traced the curve of Cillian's jaw with the pad of your thumb.
Cillian chuckled softly, brushing tendrils of damp hair from your forehead as he gazed into your eyes.
"It was quick, but so fucking good," he confirmed, seeing how you had only been at it for about twenty minutes.
"I know," you replied, your voice still breathless as you snuggled up close to him before, finally, lifting your hips so that his cock would slip out of you . You flinched at the sudden rush of wetness between your legs, a remnant of what had just happened still dripping from your pussy.
Cillian himself groaned in disappointment as he felt his cock soften, the withdrawal painful.
"I could stay inside you forever," Cillian whispered, peppering kisses over your neck and shoulders. His hands were wandering over your waist and hips, softly stroking your skin with a tenderness that almost made you cry.
You chuckled softly.
"I think I would like that," you replied, before sighing blissfully and reaching down between your legs to touch yourself, still wet with his semen.
Cillian watched you through half-lidded eyes as your fingers dipped between your pussy lips and came back glistening with the mix of both of your juices.
You brought it to your mouth , eyes still locked on his as you licked your lips slowly, savoring the taste of your lovemaking and Cillian swallowed hard at the sight.
"I think it is time for bed," you then announced softly, standing up from the couch. "You have to be up early again tomorrow morning to film that scene with Annabelle, remember?" you teased, with a sly little grin before wobbling off to the bedroom and Cillian chuckled weakly response before hauling himself up from the couch, his entire body still buzzing and tingling with euphoria from the mind-blowing sex you just had on this very couch.
Tags:
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#cillian murphy x y/n#cillian murphy imagine#cillian murphy x you#cillian murphy x reader#cillian murphy smut#cillian murphy
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ℂ𝕙𝕖𝕣𝕣𝕚𝕖𝕤 𝕒𝕟𝕕 ℂ𝕚𝕘𝕒𝕣𝕣𝕖𝕥𝕥𝕖𝕤
✧warnings: F-boy Sunghoon so mentions of sex ig, may be a lil suggestive, possessive hoon
❁synopsis: The campus hottie, was practically perfect, smart handsome talented and rumour has it among the girls, good in bed. The male is a fuck boy, a jerk face, never once wanted to fall in love after having his heart broken once by an unlucky bitch. Heck he believed he'd be like that forever, until he came across the new girl. Yang y/n.
✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧
✧❁PART 1/???❁✧
"Oh my god you slept with him?!" one of the girls exclaimed as the other girls had their shocked reactions too "Yeah... then he broke up with me" the girl admitted "Isn't Sunghoon a fuck boy though? girl why'd you date him he doesn't even hide the fact he doesn't love you?" another girl pointed out "It doesn't matter, at least I had a great night" the girl said shrugging as the others laughed it off.
Y/n fiddled with her phone as she waited outside the classroom, one earphone in, hidden by her hair. She's heard many crazy things about this high school, having been transferred from a school in UK where she was used to everything, to a high school in South Korea. Everything is so new there, education system, driving on the different side of the road. but she had her best friend, Danielle by her side.
"Hey it's going to be ok" the girl reassured. One thing y/n is glad about, is the fact that she's fluent in Korean so language will not be a big problem for her. She smiles at Danielle as she follows her in. The teacher asks her to introduce herself as the girl blinks, staring at the class in disbelief. Introduce? first day and she has to speak in front of all these judgemental 18 year old strangers?!
"I'm y/n..." she says, forcing a smiled, the teacher points at an empty seat which was sadly not next Danielle. Making a sad pouty face at Danielle, she sat at the seat. 17 minutes. That's how long it took "Park Sunghoon late again?!" The teacher scolded as the male scratched his head then he froze. His eyes on y/n.
The girl's jaw rested in her palm as she doodled in the margin, false lashes fluttering against her glasses, her lips stained with a rosy, nude shade. Fuck she's everything. Is this what cupid felt when he saw psyche? love at first sight like Romeo experienced with Juliet? Sunghoon was captivated.
He slammed his palm on the desk of the person beside y/n. The girl didn't even flinch and probably didn't care due to the earphone blasting Itzy in her left ear. the student sitting beside her immediately got up and went to a different seat as Sunghoon slipped into the seat beside the girl. he turned to her, tapping her shoulder. the girl paused her music turning to him.
So this is Park Sunghoon, the handsome fuckboy they say. Y/n knew he was bad news "Im Sunghoon... and you?" the male asked "Not interested" she said, turning back to do her work "Come on baby, don't be like that" he said, winking as she sighed, looking at him. She then turned back and ignored him, doodling.
"Wah you can draw- that looks so realistic gurl" he complimented as the girl groaned, slamming her head on the desk. "Park Sunghoon stop distracting the new girl and get on with your work. or you can switch spaces with Eunchae!" the teacher warned as Sunghoon groaned, picking up his pencil.
2 lessons passed by and break time rolled in, she smiled, sorta running over to Danielle with grabby hands. they jumped up and down squealing like typical girls as their fingers intertwined. "I can't believe we're finally in the same schooool!" Danielle squealed as y/n smiled. "I know right?! we can finally do typical bestie stuff get our nails done, do each other's makeup, gossip, and hang out~" y/n added with a smile.
"All of this and I don't hear boyfriend... i'm assuming it's because you have one?" Sunghoon asked with a raised eyebrow as the girl sighed "No I don't never had one and never will... I don't like the idea of putting all my trust in a guy." She said, in a slight passive aggressive manner. "Ok but I'm telling you, a pretty girl like you NEEDS to end up with a trust worthy guy like me" Sunghoon said.
Y/n gave him the 'be for real' look as she rolled her eyes, walking away with Danielle. "So stupid. He really thinks I'm going to let him get in my skirt?!" y/n scoffed, handing danielle a cherry lollipop as she sucked on her own. "Please. He can't flirt for shit, and just yesterday he had two girlfriends whom he dumped back to back." Danielle added as Y/n shook her head, disappointed. Sunghoon having over heard all this, decided it was time to stop playing girls like a gameboy, and pursue his princess.
✧❁PART 2❁✧
#sunghoon x reader#sunghoon imagines#sunghoon fluff#sunghoon smau#enhypen imagines#enhypen fluff#enhypen x reader#enhypen x you#enhypen x y/n#enhypen scenarios#enhypen reactions#enhypen#park sunghoon#sunghoon#enha imagines#enha scenarios#enha smau#enha x reader#enhypen drabbles#enhypen x female reader#sunghoon drabbles#park sunghoon fluff#sunghoon oneshot#sunghoon drabble#enhypen oneshot#sunghoon x you#sunghoon imagine#enhypen imagine#park sunghoon x reader#enhypen sunghoon
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Hey! Love your fics! Have just finished The Taste of Temptation 🥵 a small idea popped in my head where Daniel is away and his Kitty is spending time with other drivers on a yacht. The aussie sees the pics, his blood starts to boil but then he sees the pics where she's putting on his DR3 or Enchante merch on
Temptation Snapshot || DR3 {1}
A/N: there will be a splattering of little snapshots of moments between Danny and his kitten from The Taste of Temptation universe.
F1 Masterlist Story: One || Two || Three || Four || Five Snapshots One || Two || Three || Four || Five
“Are you sure you know how to drive this thing?”
Lando looked offended at the question and purposefully hit the waves in the wake of Charles' boat, launching the JetSki into the air. Your arms tightened around his waist as you lifted from the seat and your heart rose in your throat at the height of the jump. It was instant karma that he winced at the deafening scream of terror you made but it wasn’t enough to drown out the men laughing at your expense on the yacht.
“Where are you going?” Lando asked with a laugh as you abandoned him and jumped into the sea.
“To change my underwear, you dingbat,” you joked as you swam towards the Monza, making Lando nearly tip over as he tried to turn around while doubled over laughing.
When you reached the Monza, Charles offered his hand to help you up since Pierre was too busy cackling to himself. “Did that use up one of your nine lives, kitten?”
Charles arched an eyebrow in disbelief as he looked at his friend who had been taking pictures all day just to annoy Daniel. “Mate, do you have a death wish?”
“He must have, especially if he posted any of those photos.” You reached into your bag and grabbed the powder-blue oversized Enchantée sweatshirt you had stolen from Daniel. Pulling it over your body was the closest you could get to one of his hugs when he was busy with work and when you took a seat there was enough room to tuck your knees up inside it too.
“They are very good pictures,” he defended himself as he took another couple of Lando pulling up alongside the boat, Charles at the helm and you watching the sun reflect on the shimmering surface. “I could be a photographer, I am an artist.”
You looked at Charles and rolled your eyes. “He took one decent photo of Kika, who is the most photogenic person on the planet, and now he thinks he’s Kym Illman.”
“I’ve taken more, but she would kill me if I showed them off,” Pierre admitted with a smirk.
“Oh my god, mate,” Charles groaned a laugh. “That is not smart. Think, if you get hacked, then what?”
You gave Charles a little clap at the point he made but Pierre just laughed it off without a care. “You worry too much.”
Red Bull Training Facility
Sweat drenched the singlet Daniel wore but he pushed himself to finish the last rep knowing a break was coming as soon as he was done. The routine physical fitness test was never fun but the fact it was taking him away from time with you left him in a sour mood. He was doing his best and results were better than ever because he knew the sooner he finished then the quicker he could head home to Monaco where you were waiting.
“Alright, good work. Take a breather, get a drink, and be back here in 10.”
Daniel was quick to grab his phone with his bottle of water and took a seat on the Swiss ball. His lips tugged up into a smile when he saw the messages from you, wishing him well and how much you missed him. He replied to them first, promising everything he would do to show you just how much he missed you too.
Seeing a tonne of notifications on Instagram, he opened the app next and his jaw clenched at what he found. All through his dashboard were images of you wearing next to nothing with the two-piece swimsuit he gave to you. He was surprised the sweat on his body didn’t turn to steam the way his blood boiled.
The whole day had been caught in a series of photos Pierre had posted. There was one of you standing at the bow of the Monza as she pulled out of the marina, you diving off the back and swimming to Lando who had followed on Max’s JetSki, you sitting behind the British driver with your arms around his waist. Every swipe to the next image left him feeling hollow and empty as he watched his kitten’s smile grow with each one.
Until it was gone.
Daniel cursed as he found a picture with terror clear on your face. Lando had launched the JetSki over a wave and you had held onto him for dear life. That was the last photo on the vessel and he sighed with relief when the next photo erased every chaotic thought he had had. You were snuggled into his sweatshirt and watching the sun like you did at home. Daniel would often find you in a similar state most mornings as you sat on the balcony overlooking the sea, a hot tea in hand and his clothes on your body.
Daddy Ric: Stealing more of my clothes, kitten?
Kitten: They look better on me.
Daddy Ric: They’d look even better on the bedroom floor.
Kitten: Then hurry up and come home.
“Break time is over, this isn’t summer camp.”
Daddy Ric: Soon, kitten. I’ll see you tonight.
Click here for another snapshot.
#the taste of temptation#daniel ricciardo fanfic#daniel ricciardo x reader#daniel ricciardo x y/n#f1 fanfic#f1 imagine#formula one imagine#formula 1 fanfic#formula one fanfiction
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Summary: Getting caught speeding has its consequences. When you realize it's all fun and games for the both of you, you're willing to play along for the reward. A secret and spontaneous getaway in the woods -- it's the perfect place to work out your differences, don't you think? Words: 2.2k CW: Gator being kind of a dick, police encounter (pulled over for speeding), unprotected p/v sex, fem!reader, misogynistic overtones if you squint, minor oral fixation, technically public encounter. A/N: I'm sorry it has taken me so long to post! I really struggled through this one, but I've gotten it to a place where I'm okay with it. I hope you enjoy it, and thank you so much for reading my thing!!!
NSFW below the cut, 18+, MDNI as usual ✨
The air is thick with fog, and you let out a long sigh while you wait for the deputy to approach your driver’s side window. The red and blue lights flash in your rearview mirror, and you start to feel heavy with resentment for last night’s power outage that reset your alarm clock, causing you to wake up half an hour later than usual. You know you were speeding; you can’t deny that. You’re late for work, and this pitstop is the last thing you need right now.
You sigh with disappointment when you realize Gator Tillman is trudging through the roadside gravel to your window. Why did it have to be him?
“Mornin’, sunshine.” Gator grins smugly, a toothpick hanging half out of the side of his mouth. “Where are you off to in such a hurry?”
“I’m late for work,” you grumble, avoiding making eye contact with him.
You two have a history, if you can even call it that. Half-memories flash through your mind of the one night stand you had after a heart to heart and one too many at the saloon downtown. If you’re being totally honest with yourself, Jack Daniels and summer evenings still make you think of him, but you’d never say it out loud.
“Goin’ 69 in a 60, huh?” Gator holds back a giggle as he waits for your response.
“Really, Tillman?” Your eyes narrow at his juvenile comment, and his smile falls flat. His mood shifts in an instant, and you see him push a small button on his body worn camera followed by a series of small beeps as it powers on.
“Just so you’re aware, you’re being audio and video recorded. The reason I stopped you is you were going approximately 69 miles per hour in a 60 mile per hour zone, clearly marked. License and registration,” he demands coldly, holding out his hand expectantly. You search through your glovebox for the documents and hand them over, steeping in the icy silence surrounding you, thinking that maybe if you had just laughed at his joke, he would have let you go on your way.
Gator takes your documents, shuffling them as he looks each one over before speaking to you once more. “You sit tight. I’ll be right back.” You prop your elbow up against your door and rest your head in your hand, letting your mind wander as you try your best to be patient.
After just a few minutes, you see Gator sauntering your way again through your sideview mirror. The way he walks makes your stomach flutter as more flashes of your night together run through your train of thought – his teeth sinking into your plush thighs one by one, the hungry growl rumbling from deep within his chest as he tasted you, and the pathetic whimper he couldn’t hold back as he pushed his desperate, twitching cock into you for the first time –
“Here you go, Miss.” Your daydream is cut short by his drawl as he hands your papers back to you. “I’m going to need you to step out of the vehicle now.” Your eyebrows shoot up in disbelief at his request. Why the hell is he doing this?
“Excuse me?” You ask, incredulous.
“Am I speakin’ Chinese?” Gator was serious. He wasn’t budging. You’re kicking yourself on the inside at this point, knowing he was only doing this to get back at you for bruising his ego over his stupid joke. A pang of regret hits low in your chest as you realize telling him you were late for work was a mistake.
“Gator, please –”
“Don’t make this harder on yourself, sweetheart. Step on out now.” He looks far off into the fog as he waits for you to comply, but you don’t move. Taking the toothpick out from between his teeth, he points it at you, cocking his head to the side. “You don’t want me to ask again.”
“What is it you want from me?”
“What do I want from you?” Gator chuckles, bending down to rest his forearms on your car, his head dipping into your window to meet your eyes. He hits the small button on his body cam once more, and you hear the device power down. “You know what I want,” he whispers softly, being careful not to let the rest of the world hear him. He leans in further until your faces are only inches apart. Your heartbeat hammers in your ears as you take in the scent of his musk mixed with remnants of fruity smoke, and you’re suddenly feeling lightheaded.
And just like that, you’re drowning in flashbacks again – the candy sweet taste of watermelon flavor on his tongue, his hair falling into his eyes as he fucked into you hard and slow, and the way he begged you to say his name as you came for him – and now you’re aching to play his games. You know exactly how to get him going. Softening your expression, you concede to the heat building in between your thighs, and despite the bone-cracking urge to mouth off to him, you try something new instead.
You decide to comply and let yourself out of your car, closing the door behind you, and you see a hint of shock flash over his features as he fights to keep his composure. He clears his throat.
“Place your hands on the hood of the vehicle,” Gator orders, and you follow his instruction dutifully. You palm the hood of your car, a seductive curve in your spine, and you can tell his resolve is starting to crumble with the way he’s eyeing you up and down, biting his bottom lip.
“Do you like me like this? Helpless?” Your eyes grow round and wide with innocence – the look of prey – and you notice Gator’s eyebrows raise just a fraction, but he ultimately maintains his poker face.
“Maybe,” he admits, his voice low and gravelly, dark chocolate eyes boring into yours. “Maybe I like having that kind of authority. Maybe I like knowing I could do whatever I wanted to you right now, and there isn’t anything you could do about it.” He approaches you slowly, each step making your anticipation burn brighter.
“Just maybe?”
“Okay,” he admits with a scoff. “You got me. I do like it.” He leans in closer to you so you can feel his breath on your lips. “I like you helpless because I like knowing that if you were to beg and pray, I would have the power to tell you no.” He lets the tips of his fingers brush up against your arm gently. “I like knowing that there would be nothing you could say or do to stop me from…” he trails off, a smirk playing on his lips as he licks his teeth.
“From what?”
Gator’s hands glide up to hold your wrists, removing your touch from the hood of your car. He pulls one of your hands to meet his jaw, grazing your soft skin over his stubble before pressing an almost chaste kiss to the tips of your fingers.
“From doing anything and everything I could dream of doing to a woman,” he murmurs, grinning against your skin. He grips both of your wrists firmly in front of him once more and pulls you against himself roughly as he makes his demand. “Now, ask me again, politely, what it is I want.”
“I think I already know,” you whisper against his lips playfully before he crashes them into yours, his strong arms circling your waist. He grips your asscheeks from underneath and pushes you up onto the hood of your car as he licks along your bottom lip, and you deepen the kiss. His tongue rolls over and over yours, lips locking perfectly together, and you can taste his familiar sweetness as he pushes his hips into you, grinding his already hard cock against your sweet spot over your jeans.
You moan into his mouth as his thrusts become even more needy, and your nails dig into his shoulder blades through his shirt. You’re not even thinking about the fact that anyone could drive by at any moment and see what’s happening – you’re too tangled up in each other to care. In a swift motion, Gator swipes at the bill of his hat and throws it to rest on the hood of the car beside you. His body weight presses into you before he finally breaks away, taking a deep breath and looking at you with wild eyes.
You suppress a smile as you take in the way he surveys you, soaking up his energy, loving every sick second of stroking his ego, giving him glimpses of the control he craves and getting your own physical satisfaction in return. You have him right where you want him, and he has no idea.
“Should we go somewhere?” Gator’s crooked smile makes your knees feel weak as his gaze flicks back and forth between your eyes and lips, and you can tell he’s doing his best to behave at least long enough to pose the question.
“Where?”
----------------------------------------------------------------------------
The ground underneath the picnic blanket is hard and uneven, but you don’t even feel it anymore. The sun speckles everything around you through the trees, and you vaguely notice the rustling of leaves and twigs as the birds change branches above you every so often. Gator had taken the two of you in his cruiser just far enough up the nearest hill to escape the fog, and the nip in the air didn’t bother you at all as soon as he was on top of you, in between your legs, tactical gear still in place while he ran his hands over your body, his hungry eyes feasting on every curve.
He started slow and gentle, purring soft requests in between light touches everywhere you wanted them. It didn’t take you long to realize he was playing you the same way you were playing him, and now you’re here, rolling your hips languidly as you ride him, using the straps and pockets on the front of his vest for more leverage.
He’s a moaning mess underneath you, his blunt nails digging into the flesh of your thighs as he grips them to stay grounded in reality. You let yourself wonder for a split second if anyone has ever pleased him like this before – if he has ever been so loud, so free, so incessantly desperate for more of someone like he is right here, right now, with you.
You pick up your pace and lean back just enough to put yourself on full display for him, his length reaching the perfect angle inside of you, eliciting a filthy whine you couldn’t stifle if you tried. Your eyes brim with tears as the pleasure builds at your core like an explosion threatening to detonate at any moment. You reach down and pry one of Gator’s hands from your thigh, bringing his fingertips up to your kiss-swollen lips.
He grins through his own bliss as he realizes what you’re about to do. Almost unable to form words, he breathes, “I swear, you’re tryin’ to kill me, woman.” With a sinful smile, you graze two of his fingers past your lips and teeth along your tongue until they reach the back of your throat. Creating the perfect amount of suction, you move his fingers in and out of your mouth in time with your hips, your pussy flexing around his cock with the idea of being just a little bit more full of him.
A strangled half sob slips past Gator’s lips through his gritted teeth as his brows knit together, and his free hand pulls you down onto him harder and faster, the lewd sounds of flesh on flesh filling the space around you.
“Gonna cum. Don’t fuckin’ stop,” he demands, a string of expletives following just as the wave of your own climax crashes over you. Sordid sounds pour from your mouth as you release his fingers from its grasp, gushing and writhing on his cock in a way you know you’ll be ashamed to relive after this.
You feel a bruising grip on your thighs as he holds you down, burying himself up to the hilt in your soaked pussy while his hips buck and spasm against his will.
“Gonna fill you up so good,” he growls just before you feel a hot rush inside of you, his thick release coating your walls in bursts as his mouth falls open and his eyes roll back, his fingertips clawing into your skin, holding on for dear life.
Coming down from your high, you use your hands on his chest to steady yourself, resting your weight on your knees as you both catch your breath. The sounds of the woods in the background become louder again as you take in your surroundings.
“Damn,” Gator breathes, letting out a sigh and a small chuckle.
“Been a while,” you muse, a smirk playing on your lips as your eyes meet his once again.
“Sure has,” he agrees. “Can’t keep me waitin’ like that again.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” you promise with a cheeky wink.
tagging: @mrprettywhenhecries @b1tchywheeler @stevesxyellowxsweater @atinyliliflower @darleenjade @floredaqueen - ily guys, thank u for your encouragement and love, it means the world to meeeee!!! 💕
#gator tillman#gator tillman x reader#gator tillman smut#fargo s5 fanfic#gator tillman fanfic#gator tillman x fem!reader#gator tillman x you#I really hope this is suitable#yes he keeps his gear on because....why the hell not#fanfic writing#fargo fanfic#gator tillman fanfiction#it's a shoddy banner but you know what? it's fine
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Danny Phantom Fanfiction Fictober24; Day 4 - "No, we're not doing that" Read on ao3 Words: 367
“You know you can go intangible, right?”
“Sorry, I was too busy getting viciously mauled.”
“Still alive, aren’t you?”
“That’s horribly offensive. Probably.”
Danny flinched as Sam swabbed one of the scratches that ran down his chest. It wasn’t deep, but it was inflamed, puffed up as if his skin was developing hives. He grabbed her wrist, stopped her antiseptic assault on the constellation of claw marks, and pulled her into his lap.
“Danny, are you…allergic to cats?” Sam asked. She wound her arms around his neck, tangled her fingers in the soft hair at the base of his skull. She pressed a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth, his shoulders slumped as he relaxed into her touch. “Because that might be a deal breaker.”
“I saved the damn thing from a tree and this is the thanks I get.” Danny dropped his head into the crook of Sam’s shoulder, placed a kiss against the pulse point.
“It was probably trying to get away from you. You have dog energy.”
“Excuse me?!”
“Golden retriever.”
“Sam, you’re killing me.”
“Just finishing the job.”
A couple of things happened at once.
Danny pulled Sam’s face to his and slanted his lips against hers to stop her verbal assault. Unfortunately, that meant he didn’t hear his mother’s disembodied call to go to bed. Or her quick knock on the door. Or her turning the doorknob.
“Daniel Fenton!”
Sam leapt away from Danny with the agility gained from years of dodging errant ecto-blasts. She followed Mrs. Fenton’s gaze to the scratches on Danny’s chest, the rumpled covers on his bed, an alcohol wipe wrapper that looked suspiciously like…
“It’s not what it looks like!” Sam blurted. It was too quick of a denial. Mrs. Fenton lifted an eyebrow, disbelief written in her face.
Danny floundered. “NO! We’re not doing…that.”
“It’s…natural,” Mrs. Fenton finally says, but her face betrays her shock. “Your father had that, um, talk with you, right?”
A little slow on the uptake, Danny yelped, “they’re just cat scratches!!”
“Sweetie, we don’t have a cat.”
“I’m going to go lay in the road,” Sam mumbled.
“How about you take the guest bed instead, honey.”
#fictober24#danny phantom#amethyst ocean#fakeout makeout#danny phantom fanfiction#amethyst ocean fanfiction#danny fenton#sam manson#safereturn writes fanfic#i get to write fluff at 2 am#as a treat
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UNDER YOUR TOUCH
Summary: After her difficult breakup, Tiana wanted to start anew with her life. That's when she realized her life would be better when she met him.
This fanfic is 18+! NO MINORS ALLOWED
word count: 3247
smut warning; it’ll come in the story randomly so PLEASE PLEASE look out for it I’m not really good at writing ✍🏽 smuts but I’m improving at the moment.
Jey Uso x Tiana
AWFUL GRAMMAR IM GETTING BETTER I SWEAR LOL.
comments, likes, repost are appreciated I would love the constructive feedback in what area I need to approve in. 🤍
ALSO! I don’t not want nobody stealing my fanfics or take it as theirs that will be an issue fasho so keep it cute respectfully.
I only own my OC along with the make up scenarios
But I’ll be writing along the way since this story is in my drafts on Wattpad right now so yuh. 💁🏽♀️
TAGS ⬇️ lmk if you wanna be tag 🏷️
@pinkwithhearts @jstarr86 @biancasreign @empressdede
@angiedawn02 @fearlesschimera @paigereeder
5.
JEY I was on a mission to plan out this surprise for Tiana later tonight with the help of Bianca, Trin, and Jon. Of course, I wanted to make things official with her because her aura and energy felt so good to me. I love being around allat.
I was at the mall shopping with Bianca while Trin was making decorations. We went inside Pandora to check out some jewelry that I got for Tiana. She's a special girl and definitely deserves it.
"Do you know what size ring she wears B?" I asked as she nodded her head.
"Yeah, of course. She's a size six, and I Ion' know if you've been paying attention to her jewelry lately, but she loves bracelets, especially charm bracelets, " she said as we went to pick out the jewelry.
"I'll keep that in mind for the future then." We both laughed at each other.
After we left Pantora, I went to Foot Locker to get her some new kicks, while Bianca went somewhere else. We'll meet again.
But I went inside the place, finding her some shoes that she'll like or that we can match one day, so I just picked out whatever.
'Yes, I am spoiling the fuck outta her'
I came out of the place, seeing Bianca with a Victoria Secret bag in her hands. My eyebrows furrowed in confusion, and she looked at me with a grin.
"Who is that for?" I asked.
"Well, it's for Tiana. Don't tell her that, though. It's something that she could pull off in front of you, and if you like it, so." Bianca said.
"Ight bet then you finna get her in trouble, B." She chuckled at me as we walked towards the car.
✧.*
After we did all of our shopping together I had to stop by the flower shop to get Tiana some white roses because I knew that those were her favorites as I paid for the roses I was headed out towards my car before I could do that I've seen Kehlani with her hoe ass friends while her eyes darted my way.
She had a smirk on her face as she and her hoe-ass friends came right up to me while I put the roses in the front seat next to me.
"Hey papi, are those flowers for me?" Kehlani said as she rubbed all over me.
I felt uncomfortable with her being up all on me I only like it when Tiana is like this with me so I just gently pushed her off me.
"No, these roses aren't for you, and secondly, back up off me." I said sternly while folding my arms.
"This must be for yo' bitch, huh? Jey, she's not better than me, and you know it." She said as I scoffed in disbelief.
'This girl is delusional as fuck dawg.'
"I ain't goin' to repeat it; watch your mouth, Kehlani, and she is better than you."
"Nigga whatever you know where home is, boy, stop playing with me."
"Last time I checked, my home is with my girl, not with you, so please take your delusional ass and your hoe ass friends somewhere else with allat I got things to do." I retorted while grabbing my keys out my pocket.
I went inside of my car as I turn on the ignition switch while pulling out the parking lot seeing her face being pissed off knowing her hoe-ass friends were comforting her.
I texted Tiana, telling her that she needed to be ready around nine because I wanted to take her out to dinner somewhere private, just me and her. Even though Trin, Bianca, and Jon would be there, they'll be hidden somewhere.
I pray that she'll like it and don't feel overwhelmed by this.
✧.*
TIANA I was finishing up my clients nails for today as usual when she paid me and gave me a huge ass tip for today I sighed with joy, knowing that I love doing my job.
But I got a text from Josh telling me I needed to be ready around nine, which confused me a little bit, especially since I didn't see Bianca today, only Montez. So I wonder what he has planned for tonight.
As I was cleaning up my equipment and space, I received a text from an unknown number. I sighed, thinking that it was Malakai, but when I saw the text, I already knew who it was.
Unknown number: Jey is cheating on you girl so don't flatter yourself. Tiana: Girl you know I'm not stupid right? So you can shut that shit up honestly. Unknown number: he doesn't want you he know where home is at. Tiana: how about you take yo' delusional ass of my phone and tell somebody else that also get blocked hoe.
I blocked his ex-girlfriend's number while closing up shop. As I headed towards my BMW, I unlocked the car and threw my purse in the seat next to me as I started to pull out the parking lot.
I was listening to some music in the car on my way back home when Josh called.
OTP Jey: mamas what you doing baby? Tiana: I'm driving home Josh so I could get ready for tonight. Jey: ight baby, you good? you seem irritated. Tiana: somewhat like that Jey: what happened? Tiana: Your ex Kehlani I don't how she got my number but she was texting me some bullshit. Jey: what? Tiana: yeah I had to block her ass. Jey: what was she sayin' Tiana: she was saying how you know where home is and that you didn't want me.
I heard him scoffed over the phone while chuckling.
Jey: god she is so delusional and desperate man. Tiana: I know it's crazy. Jey: well I'll come pick you up for tonight. Tiana: what do you have planned Josh? Jey: you'll see mamas I'm not spilling. Tiana: fineeee, I love you Jey: I love you too baby.
CALLED ENDED.
Hearing him say he loves me just brings me joy every day. It feels like I am in a dream or something. I wasn't expecting to be in a relationship so good.
It was so much better being with Josh than Malakai because Kai had never done these things with me. All we ever did was fuck, and that was it.
It made me feel like I was being used for my body and not being loved by him like I am with Josh.
✧.* I checked myself out in the mirror, seeing that I looked good for tonight. I was nervous because I knew that Josh had something planned up his sleeve. He wasn't slick, but I played the role for now.
I saw a car pull up, knowing that it was Josh. Montez was calling for me, and I walked downstairs, seeing Bianca coming, including Josh. He never fails to look good.
He smiled at me, holding my favorite roses in his hands. I smiled back at him. God, he looked so good and fine.
Wearing all black and with his silver chain on his neck, including his Rolex on his wrist, I saw Bianca smile at me while she whispered.
"I've got a surprise for you when you get there, girl," Bianca whispered as I nodded my head.
I walked up towards Josh, standing on my tippy toes. I kissed him on the lips and looked into his eyes.
"You ready princess?" Jey asked as he handed me my roses.
"Yes I'm ready." I said.
We interlocked our hands together while leaving the house. Jey opened the door for me as I got in, and he shut the door next to me before heading inside his car.
As we were driving to the place, Jey and I were listening to music until this song, ' Get You,' came on. I and he listened to the song while his hand was on my thigh.
'Through drought and famine, natural disasters My baby has been around for me Kingdoms have fallen, angels be callin' None of that could ever make me leave, yeah'
I darted my eyes towards Jey, who was focused on the road. Seeing him drive with one hand just did something to me, but he looked so good. Everything was so good about him.
His side profile was so pretty that I couldn't stop admiring him. I think he noticed that I was admiring him as he stopped at a red light, turning my direction.
Grabbing my face he placed a few kisses on my lips as he pulled away and continued to drive.
'Every time I look into your eyes, I see it You're all I need Every time I get a bit inside, I feel it'
These lyrics were deep because of how Jey and I are right now; it just feels so right. That's when I started singing the lyrics to Jey.
"Ohh, who would've thought I'd get you?" I serenade to Jey as he smiled at me
'Ooh, who would've thought I'd get you?'
We finally pulled up at the restaurant, and it looked so aesthetically beautiful. I wasn't expecting us to be going here, but I knew that this was going to be my favorite restaurant.
He held his hand in mine as we walked inside, opening the door for me as I looked around the place. It was so fancy.
Josh was speaking to the greeter about our reservations as they walked us towards the elevator. I was honestly confused as to why we were going up until I saw why.
We were on the top floor, and my mouth went wide open. The view was absolutely beautiful. Words couldn't even describe how he put this together.
He saw my reaction as we walked towards our table while sitting down.
"This is just half of it baby." Jey commented as my eyebrows furrowed a bit.
"What do you mean half of it Josh? What is happening right now?" I asked him, being the impatient person I am.
"You'll see baby calm down girl." He said.
We were enjoying ourselves while we were drinking some wine, as I saw him getting up and holding his hand out.
"C'mon mama dance with me." He said as I held his hand into mines while we began dancing.
'And when we're making love, uh Your cries, they can be heard from far and wide It's only the two of us Everything I need between those thighs'
'Every time I look into your eyes, I see it You're all I need Every time I get a bit inside, I feel it'
Jey spun me around as he bent me down while holding my back as he held me up. He can dance really well, so what isn't he good at?
We looked into each other's eyes deeply while pulling our bodies close together, I can't believe that this is actually happening to me.
He placed a kiss on my cheek, whispering in my ear, "I got a surprise at the hotel, mama." Damn how many surprises does this man have?
We continue to dance while embracing each other more closely.
✧.* After a few more drinks, we finally made it to the hotel. Jey covered my eyes. Honestly, I was terrified to see what the hell this surprise was. He guided me through the room while removing his hands from my eyes.
When I told you I wanted to cry, I wanted to cry so bad. It was so beautiful, and all of the gifts I've seen on the bed just warmed my heart.
I turned around to hug Jey so tightly as he hide the same giving me a kiss on the lips.
"You love it mama?" Jey asked.
I sniffed my nose while wiping my tears away from my eyes.
"Yes, I love it so much, Josh. Omg, you mischievous man," I said while hitting him in the chest.
"Ight, ight girl calm down." He said.
'Ooh, who would've thought I'd get you? Oh yeah, oh yeah, babe Ooh, who would've thought I'd get you?'
My eyes noticed a dart towards the Victoria's Secret bag on the bed, and then it clicked to me about what Bianca had said about a surprise she had for me.
I went towards the bed, grabbed the bag, and saw two pieces of red lingerie in there—my favorite color. I love my bestie so much, so I took it out; it looked so good.
Until I saw Jey walking towards me with a smirk on his face, he stood in front of me.
"Why don't you put that on baby? Lemme see how it look on you." He said as he held my chin up.
'Ouu Bianca what did you do girl?'
SMUT WARNING.
Jey had pulled my lingerie to the side as he was beating my shit in, as my eyes were rolling in the back of my head, moaning his name loudly.
I felt him put pressure on my back as he dug his dick deeper inside of me, causing me to grip the sheets tightly.
'And I'll take some time Just to be thankful That I had days full of you, you Before it winds down into (Got someone you like, feel something that's right) The memories, it's all just memories (Somebody, just tell somebody) Now'
"Fucccck Dadddy..." I moaned as he smack my ass.
"Uh-Huh...mama, this daddy's pussy.." Jey grunted as he moved his hips faster and deeper inside of me.
My back was hurting as I tried to get up only for him to push me down while making me feel miserable underneath him.
"Nah keep that shit arched mama." I loved when he is dominant and aggressive with me.
'(If you've got someone you like) Don't you love when I come around? (Feel something that's right) (Somebody, just tell somebody) Build you up then I take you down (If you've got someone you like) Don't you love when I come around? (Feel something that's right) (Somebody, just tell somebody) Build you up then I take—'
As he was pounding me to oblivion, I felt him grab a whole head of my hair as he pulled me up toward his body, making me look at him.
He smirked at my facial expression knowing that he was fucking me good, giving me a good dick. He grabbed my throat firmly, continuing to thrust into me deeply.
"Fuck, mama looking so good in this lingerie baby." He cooed.
"Y-yeah D-daddy?" I breathed out.
"Yeah, mama look so sexy.." I felt myself clenching onto his dick, causing him to groan softly in my ear was music to my ears until he let me go while pulling out, which caused me to whine.
He turned me towards the side of my body and got back to work at it, thrusting into me deeper, causing me to moan loudly.
He was hitting my g-spot so good I was seeing stars in the back of my head as my mouth parted open as I made eye contact with him.
Grabbing me by the throat yet again as he pound into me vigorously, hitting my spot so good.
"J-Joshhhh! W-wait!" I cried out tapping his arm.
"Nah gimme that shit mama, make a mess on this bed." He purred as he smacked my ass.
'Ooh, who would've thought I'd get you? Oh yeah, oh yeah, babe Ooh, who would've thought I'd get you?'
I felt myself squirting on this man as I cursed under my breath as tears came out of my eyes as I felt my legs shaking uncontrollably knowing that he didn't give a damn as he kept going.
'This feels like summer Boy, you make me feel so alive Just be my lover Boy, you'll lead me to paradise'
My moans became very high-pitched noises as my facial expressions were growing more intense the more he kept thrusting inside of me.
The way his dick stuffed inside of me going in and out of me.
"you belong to me baby?" Jey cooed.
"Yesss, Josh, I belong to you." I whimpered weakly as my eyes went to the back of my head.
Both of us were moaning and groaning loudly and cursing as his dick was stretching me out so good.
"she so wet for me, fat Ma knows what it is right baby?"
"God! Yes Daddy!" I managed to get out I couldn't even comprehend or get the first few words out of my mouth.
I felt drool coming down my face going straight on the sheets, "You fuck me so good, Josh." He smiled down at me, knowing.
"Oh, I know ma."
I didn't know how much I could take from this, as I felt that same pit in my stomach again. Jey noticed my facial expressions.
That gave him the opportunity to go deeper inside of me, causing me to squeal loudly as his hips found the perfect rhythm to make me reach my second orgasm.
"cum for me again, princess, make a mess." He growled while pushing into me deeply.
I grabbed his arm that was wrapped around my neck still as I let it go cumming all over this man, feeling defeated.
My legs were uncontrollably shaking and aching as I was breathing heavily up and down, his movements were getting sloppier and sloppier knowing that he was going to nut.
As he kept his rhythm going, I couldn't even moan anymore as I felt defeated and lost. My mind was foggy from this sensation.
"Imma fill yo' pussy up like a Twinkie mama." He meant that shit, too as he gave his all while cursing underneath his breath.
He groaned loudly as he filled me up like he said he would. It felt so warm inside of me while he pulled out of me, gazing down at me.
SMUT OVER.
I was breathing heavily as my chest was going up and down while looking up at Jey, who was gazing down at me with his hands on his hips.
I tried to get up but ended up falling on the ground laughing as Jey held me up by my waist, holding me tightly.
"C'mere mama let's go take a shower together." Jey said as he carried me to the bathroom.
I just knew I was going to get fucked yet again.
Under Your Touch.
tianasworld, zillafatu, biancabelairwwe, and 300,000 people liked your post.
uceyjucey: my perfection 🫶🏽😮💨 tianasworld: I love you so much baby. 🤍 uceyjucey: @ tianasworld I love you too mama you deserve it. 🤍 zillafatu: okayyyy uce i see you spoiling yo' girl did you finally make it official? uceyjucey: @ zillafatu yessir 💁🏽♂️ biancabelairwwe: omggg 🥹🤍 theyhatelani: wtf why didn't I get that type of treatment? uceyjucey: @ theyhatelani didn't yo' ass cheat on me? Oh yeah I forgot you did.
Read all 100,456 comments.
uceyjucey replied to your story: you deserve it mama. biancabelairwwe replied to your story: i love this for you girl finally. 🫶🏽 shelovekai replied to your story: bro tf you mean by that I did everything for you. shelovesemma replied to your story: oh my goooood Tiana did your new man do this??? shelovekai replied to your story: bro he ain't better than me Tiana.
Phewwww man oh man, Jey did his big one with this I hope yall enjoyed this chapter lmk in the comments.
Stay Ucey
#jey uso#black writers#black fanfic writer#jey x oc black#black oc#wwelove#black reader#wwe fanfiction#jey uso fanfiction#jey uso smut
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“ CAMPUS CRUSH ” d. page
wc: 1.8k ++ gn reader ++ they/them pronouns ++ apparently MC is canonically charming. i did what i had to do w/ this info
"[MC] is so lovely. Don't you think?" Ivy muses as she bids you goodbye.
"Huh?" Daniel eyes her with a puzzled look, before shrugging indifferently. "Well... I suppose."
She turns to him, a confused look on her face.
"Why? You don't think they're lovely?" She tilts her head.
"What?"—the sudden query causes him to tense up, and he awkwardly looks away, scratching his cheek.
"I didn't say that..."
A muggle-born—seemingly just there as if destined to help your friends with their rather messed up backgrounds in comparison to your little-known one.
In spite of this, Daniel was aware that you weren't as commonplace as you appeared to be. It's undoubtedly beyond the powers of an ordinary young wix to so easily overwhelm dark wizards that they're forced to flee.
And that's only one of the things that makes you a touch... outlandish to him, despite how much more bizarre your other friends seem to be.
...However, other than your excellent skills in wizardry, Daniel was also well aware of the effect you had on people.
It swirls from even way back during your first year—who would have thought an eleven-year old like you could charm people just like that? And by people, that also includes your superiors, apparently.
That very instance of when he had tried to explore the Forbidden Forest in search for an ingredient—only to, alas, be caught by Hagrid himself.
"Uh...then, it'd be okay if you went with us?" Daniel cringed inwardly, hoping that his little attempt would work even to some small degree.
Hagrid does stammer a bit—at least that's what Daniel accomplished.
"Hang on, that's not what I was sayin'. It's true, o'course. but I were tryin' to warn you and—"
"—And keep us safe, right?" You quickly interrupt, eyes practically shimmering as you tilted forward with an innocent grin. "That's so thoughtful, Hagrid! So- you'll come with us then?"
Your sudden intrusion to maneuver the situation brings Daniel's eyebrows to raise, though even further more after Hagrid's response:
"Oh. Well..." The half-giant hesitantly scratches through his thick mane-esque hair. "Only because I need to check on somethin' myself. Suppose a quick look couldn't hurt."
Not only just your first year, no, no—but preeminently your first day.
"I don't want detention. Just leave me out of it." Daniel crosses his arms, frowning at the three of you.
Naturally, it was logical at the time—to be wandering around the castle at the dead of night, in search of a girl you barely knew was absolutely nonsensical to him.
Getting in trouble in the first day is the least Daniel needs right now, and to think you, his housemate, insists on coming along is beyond him. Are you trying to mitigate your house points?
Just his luck, said housemate steps forward towards the blonde Gryffindor—"What about you, Kevin? Are you with us?"
"We could definitely use someone as clever as you to help find Ivy." You beam—as opposed to Daniel's lour.
"Oh! Oh… Thanks for the compliment, I-I think," Kevin scratches his chin and clumsily pushes his glasses. "I suppose I could give it a go…"
Robyn cackles, and Daniel's lips part in disbelief.
At that moment, he would've had to squint to be able to foresee the spark you'd light up in people. The spark you'd light up in him.
"You know, you've changed drastically since the first year."
Daniel's eyebrows raise at you, expression turning to one of interest. "What... What do you mean?"
He tilts head to one side. Then he grins amusedly, his head remaining in that tilt.
"I have? How?"
You put your finger to your chin. "Well... You were a bit dismissive when we first befriended you, and you refused to help us find Ivy on the first day because you were worried we'd get caught and all. You were more on the serious and awkward side, you know? And now you're more than willing to break a rule or two for the benefit of your friends… or yourself." You grinned back.
Daniel turns to one of embarrassment as you note his past behavior, though it's a warm embarrassment... He's glad that he's made that sort of progress, somewhat.
He clears his throat, turning slightly pink.
"I guess I've grown more since then, huh?" He lets out a breathy laugh, turning back to you—and you swore something twinkled in his eyes.
"I can't believe that I let something like the threat of getting caught stop me. I guess all the crazy stuff that's happened... It changed me, a bit."
No. It did. Maybe, yes.
But truthfully, beneath your palms that kissed each other, and your fingers that intertwined with one another—you're the one who changed him.
Would he have been able to foretell the way he was going to change over the years? If he hadn't been so dismissive at first, could he have altered earlier? Had more friends earlier? You saved him, somewhat. And he felt like Merlin had blessed him upon the very moment you two finally became proper friends.
How did you do it?—he'd ask you. And it feels a bit silly to ask how you became friends with him. But it was such a pondering thought that stumped him for majority of the first year. After all, he had insisted you to not sit with him on the train simply because "no one wanted to."
Yet you answer with—I just did—with a smile so kind he would have almost understood your answer.
Almost.
But it was as clear as day to him, that from the very start, you wanted to sit next to him. You weren't just "no one."
What he didn't know, was that he'd be bewitched by your charms himself. And just his luck, he didn't know how to respond to this revelation either.
He felt as though he had fell down a rabbit hole, one where it had pictures of your face plastered upon its walls. And said rabbit hole eats him, chews him up, and spits him out. Making him stumble to the ground with a loud groan.
When he opens his eyes, he sees a hand. Then he looks up and realizes its your hand, looks up to see your face—with the same smile you flashed him back when you were eleven years old, right by the cauldron shop at Diagon Alley.
Ridiculous, he told himself.
But he took your hand anyway, and flashed you a dopey grin back.
Before this all, he sort of had a grasp of it. Like, yes, you're attractive. And while you weren't necessarily popular, you were quite well-known.
Not because you were good-looking and were skilled in dueling just like Cassandra; not because you were nothing more than a troublemaker who apparently reeks like the Frey twins; certainly not because you were a "bloody [Last Name]" just like he was—but merely because you were kind. And you remained as nice as pie throughout all these years, and he prays you'll continue to do so.
But Daniel thought, was that all it took to be liked?
He was different from you in that he had rather, well, deplorable social skills. He wasn't rude, not unfriendly. He was a good boy. But he certainly wasn't sociable enough to be liked like you were.
He thought it was a bit ridiculous. At one point he was convinced you had gulped down on an everlasting beautification potion, or you had cast a specific charm on those nearby—though of course it was just by jest.
He just doesn't understand. Can't grasp the truth of how you could cause such an effect on some people—whether platonically or romantically.
It's one thing to be kind, though. Daniel knows a lot of kind people—Lottie is kind, Ivy is kind. But they don't charm people the way you do. So what exactly about you was so special?
Well, you did manage to befriend him years ago in the first year when he was just a wee bairn, who hated any form of attention shining on him. Maybe that's something. But he wasn't that effected. A lie.
Of course your loveliness didn't have an unrealistic, comical effect on people—but it was still pretty impressive, and rather amusing to watch how some people just give in to you by asking nicely.
Though you hadn't quite got to him, personally, merely because he doesn't get it entirely.
At least that's what he liked to tell himself.
Until one fateful day, you're asked which one of your friends was your best friend. Which one knew you better? Who was your favorite?
And several eyes shot up to you, full of what looks like thinly veiled hope, anticipation, trapped by a somewhat menacing aura accompanied by the painful silence—waiting for your voice to cut through it.
You nervously giggled, waving your hands in dismissal with a sheepish grin. "Personally, I'm close with everyone! I'd say Ivy and Daniel do know me better, but I don't have a favorite, necessarily..."
And everyone decides to unpluck the fish hook they just stabbed in your cheek to move on to the next.
Daniel watches as you sigh in relief, and you meet his staring eyes—causing the boy to jolt slightly.
But you give him a grin and lean towards him, beckoning him to move closer to your shielding palm. And he does.
"Dont tell anyone this, but, you're my favorite."
And oh, oh. He finally gets it. He fully gets it. And he gets more than what was needed.
Now he gets why you're the type of person that people linger around the area for. Now he understands that one boy who so desperately tries to impress you in Quidditch—who points to you with a wink before shooting.
And now he understands the slight warmth blossoming on his cheeks whenever you were too near—understands how his heart seemed to gradually beat faster around you as the years went by.
And Daniel wonders if he's still your favorite when another guy tries to court you.
...And he cheekily smiles to himself as you awkwardly reject the bouquet of flowers.
Yes, he's still your favorite.
But he still wonders, and wonders, and wonders.
Do you feel the same way he does?
Do you mirror the same flushed and frustrated look on his face on nights he can't sleep because of you?
Do you ever stare out the classroom window thinking about him?
Ever stop to stare at the cauldron beneath your chin because the potion had changed into his favorite color for barely a split second, like he does to you??
And when Robyn gently smacks her broom against the top of his head—he decides it'll be best to find out once Quidditch class is over.
So he turns away, begrudgingly following Robyn up in the air as he tries his best to let the wind mute down Robyn's queries.
—unaware of the lingering gaze you cast him when he does.
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How you get the girl | DR3 (patreon preview)
full piece already available on Tumblr!
▸Pairing: Daniel Ricciardo x black!plus size!reader ▸Warnings: mentions of food and alcohol; Mclaren Danny and tooth-rotting fluff. ▸ my masterlist | my taglist | patreon guide ▸ support my writing by reblogging, leaving a comment (don’t forget to follow me if you like the piece), or buying me a coffee
“I hope you like the beach, and pizza. I wanted to go for something private and chill, Amina and Adam agreed, but still, I hope I got this right.”
She smiles, looks at the blanket on the sand, the pizza box, and the wine, then nods, “I love it. It’s exactly what I would go for had I been the one to choose the setting.”
“Really?” There’s a slight hint of disbelief mixed with amusement in his tone, and it makes Yn chuckle.
“Maaaaybe this would tie with a coffee shop date,” she confesses.
“We can do coffee shop for our second date,” Daniel is quick to shoot his shot and Yn arches her brow, she wants to smile again.
“What makes you think we’re having a second date?”
“I’m just manifesting, throwing it to the universe,” he jokes and she can’t help but laugh while they walk side by side to the blanket. “See? I made you laugh, my chances are getting higher, aren’t they?”
**********
“Hey, so- I have this race next week, would you wanna go with me? I can fly you out on Saturday, or you can go with me and see how everything works from behind the scenes,” he suggests, fingers crossed in the dark praying for her to accept, praying for her not to think he’s being too fast. Maybe he was indeed, but this was all new to him too. He was fast on the track, he was never this fast outside it, never this fast to fall, to want someone, to seek someone, to show off someone. He wanted her by his side.
“Wouldn’t it be like making things official?” Yn asks genuinely curious and Daniel can tell by the way she bites her lips and one of her eyebrows goes up the slightest.
“Yeah, am I going too fast?”
“I mean, you’re a racing driver, I would say it’s your job to go fast, isn’t it?” She jokes and he laughs throwing his head on the headrest.
“Yes, but outside the track, I only wanna go fast like this for you.”
“That was so cheesy.”
“But did you like it?” He grins, and Yn rolls her eyes playfully before her body bends over the dash to capture his lips in a kiss.
“I loved it.”
────── ⋆🪩 VOICEMAIL: Hi, honeybees! I hope you guys liked this piece! <3 I wanted to add a huge shout-out to C (my coffee emoji anon on Tumblr) for proofreading this (Ily, C!)
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ɢɪᴏʀɴᴏ 𝟷𝟽 – ᴘʀᴏᴍᴘᴛs: ᴡɪɴᴅ ᴏғ ᴡᴀʀ
ᴍᴀʀɪᴜs/ᴀᴍᴀᴅᴇᴏ & ᴍᴀʀɪᴜs/ᴅᴀɴɪᴇʟ ᴀᴜ/ᴡᴇsᴛᴇʀɴ – ᴘᴀʀᴛᴇ 𝟷𝟸
They walked alongside each other, as they usually did. The journey was not very long, Mr. Carson's property was large but not very far from Cripple Creek.They were to skirt the railroad for a little while, and cross the Serpete River, and continue south, following the route that the stagecoaches and wagon trains took. They were to pass not far from the old mine, Thorne had said several people had complained of sinister noises coming out of it.
Another thing to check on, so now, in fact, they had no time. Strangely enough, the sky was cloudy, and a cloak made the air still and heavy. The sun seemed unable to pierce through the clouds that were getting darker and darker. None of that was a good sign; a bad storm was coming. Marius considered that if it did not get worse, they would barely make it home from that visit to Mr. Carson's ranch. Marius was strangely calm, he could not tell if it was the tiredness of the nightmare that still echoed in him, or if the whole situation absolutely unreal.
That satisfaction that he thought, he would feel, in knowing Mr. Carson dead for what he had done to his father, was not present in him, somehow that man, he had escaped to taste and to pay for the life he had snatched away. He was dead, and that for Marius was too little. This incensed him more, because he had not been able to bring his father's killer to justice, and he had not even been able to avenge him. "Are you all right? You look like a nervous wreck." Thorne stared perplexed and worried at Marius, he had never seen him like this and he did not like seeing him like this, this much was clear to him immediately. " I told you about my father. You and Daniel and Teskhamen are the only ones who know the truth," said Marius
Thorne nodded, yes he knew Marius' story, and he could imagine how difficult that situation was for him.
" He is dead my friend, there is not much you can or we can do. As much as your grief pains me too, if Madame Eudoxia told the truth, by now your father's 'murder is between Mr. Carson and his God," Thorne affirmed as he looked around. That silence and ghostly calm disturbed him deeply. " There is no God who might want to have anything to do with a being like Carson, but perhaps some demon might eat his putrid soul." blurted Marius. Thorne stared at him, raising an eyebrow and scratching his red beard. " Well amen my brother. They say so don't they?" asked Thorne with a grin, which was followed by a low laugh from Marius. The two friends continued on, the stretch of railroad, turned out to be deserted. Nothing to be surprised or afraid of, in fact trains passed infrequently and at specific times. Although there had been strange movements at night, everything there seemed normal. It seemed. Marius' gaze noticed something between the tracks. Thorne stopped the horse, and reminded Marius that they did not have much time to complete the mission. Marius nodded and prodded Wise, to try to speed things up.
What had caught his attention was wedged between the rails. It was a woman's dress, it looked well made, but it was torn in several places, and seemed to have patches of congealed blood, now faded. It was caught between the bolts of the rails, but in the wake of that dress, Marius saw more. And his blood froze in his veins. Thorne sensed that something was wrong and reached out to Marius. Marius stood staring in disbelief mixed with pain at the spectacle before them, Thorne took off his hat and wiped the cold sweat on his forehead. "How is it possible that we did not realize this?" asked Thorne angrily. Their eyes wandered along the tracks, the wind had begun to blow harder, a makeshift platform had been set up on which to get people off the train. There were suitcases smashed, personal belongings scattered everywhere, even broken glasses and watches thrown into the sand. Small items, combs, ladies' hats, gloves and books, small perfume bottles and even food that was now moldy. The people on the train had never arrived at their destination, and that realization struck both of them with force and dismay. Where had they taken those people? What had become of them? It was clear that there had been a struggle and that something horrible had happened there.
"We need to look for these people," said Thorne, Marius looked puzzled. "What is closest to this spot on the railroad?" asked Marius, staring into Thorne's green eyes. "Carson's ranch." retorted Thorne, Marius nodded. "There is no epidemic is there? You think it's these creatures?" asked Thorne uncertainly. "I know it's hard for you to believe, my friend, I myself if I hadn't seen them, I'd think myself crazy," said Marius " But I know what I saw, Amadeo suffered immensely because of them, and Daniel also. Now, however, someone is bringing them together. I'm afraid to even imagine what they might want to do. But we have to defend the city and we have to figure out what they are plotting. I sent a message to Zenobia, she Avicus and Mael, they are on their way here." Thorne stared at Marius curling his mouth to one side " I know my friend, but we need all the help we can get. This thing must be stopped here at all costs." said Marius. " And that's why you called bounty hunters? Dangerous and untrustworthy?" gesticulated Thorne " I know you have your reservations, but I trust them, they are friends and I know they will help us." Thorne looked nervous, but the confidence on Marius's face seemed to calm him. " Now let's go to the ranch, stay close, and have your rifle ready, we have to be extremely careful, even the smallest and most insignificant noise can be a danger. And yes please take me seriously."
Serious Thorne nodded, and they set out again, retracing their steps toward Mr. Carson's ranch. They arrived a short time later, and it was not welcome to their eyes. Where men were usually intent on work, there was no one there. Deserted. With dismay Marius noticed that there were no animals, not even the horses Carson was so proud of. The corrals were empty. The roads deserted. The small station empty, and the only sound that resonated was the wooden wheel marks wind hanging from the large cistern. The horses proceeded down the main road, the farm workers' houses had their doors wide open and you could see inside, lamps now left without oil, and broken dishes on the ground. A dreamcatcher swung in the wind spreading delicate music around.
There were abandoned tools, children's toys left in the dust. The road was pultry, however, no trace of either human or animal. The chicken coop was open but there were no chickens, just a few feathers stuck in the white wood. The cattle pen was empty, and there were a few abandoned hay bales in the middle. Pitchforks still stuck between the hay or abandoned on the ground. There were buckets of food and feed for the sheep but no sound came from the closed barn. Marius and Thorne stared at each other, was it then true that there was an epidemic of some kind? Marius shook his head, no one runs from an epidemic, you run from something you know will hurt you, from something you know you have no escape from. Marius was not sure about the animals, but the condition of the laborers' quarters was a sure clue to him. It remained to be seen how much and whether the people who lived there were involved with the terrifying creatures. Marius and Thorne walked toward the manor house. A cold sweat soaked the foreheads of both as they stopped their mounts at the white fence. Marius looked around as if assessing what to do in case of need, and something inside him shrieked that they had to get out of there.
The clouds had grown larger and darker, had completely covered the sun, which no longer filtered through. It was dark and early afternoon, and Marius thought that nothing happens by chance. Thorne made the act of getting off his horse, but Marius stopped him. Thorne looked puzzled at Marius, then his gaze moved to the white wrought-glass door, which was creaking open, revealing a figure haughty and almost regal in its hardness. Madame Eudoxia. Marius noticed how she did not leave the house entirely, but remained hidden under the porch half inside the house. Her smile had always been eerie,yet sensual, now it had something sinister and ruthless about it. " Madame Eudoxia, we are here for Mr. Carson, to ascertain the situation and assist you if you require it," tried to mediate Marius, who had realized that Thorne was staring at Madame Eudoxia with scrupulous suspicion. When the almost mad woman's laughter rang out in the hellish silence around them, the horses became nervous and Mariue and Thorne reflexively brought their hands to their belts.
"What do you think guns can be used for? Against a poor widow?" asked Madame Eudoxia but her tone was not distressed at all. "Are you all right Madame? Come forward, there is little light but at least we can look at you and make sure you are all right," proposed Marius, watchful and cautious, something was extremely out of place. " Oh sheriff, you never cared about my health, let alone my husband's," retorted Madame Eudoxia in a mean voice. Thorne drew his gun, his instincts knowing what he had before him was not a helpless woman. Again the evil laughter reverberated but was followed by a drawl from inside the house. Slowly from the darkness inside the house shadows came forward around Madame Eudoxia. Eyes shone in that darkness. They were yellow, and they promised a slow and unpleasant death. "But now sheriff you need not worry any longer. Your enemy is dead, and I offer you the chance to join us." said, Madame Eudoxia, her beautiful face distorted into a ghoulish smile. "Where are the people who were on the train? What have you done with them? And the laborers?" asked Marius, trying to keep calm.
" If you're not with us you're against us, and all we need is a place to start to create our empire, where you inferior beings are just food, animals for slaughter, like the very animals you look after in your pens," huffed Madame Eudoxia " Unfortunately, my beloved husband didn't understand what he had a chance to become, while I did, and she chose me," she was delirious. "Now sheriff you can join me and take an active part in the birth of the nation of darkness, or you can run to your little town, and die with all its useless inhabitants, for that is what will happen to you.In three days, as soon as our power is at its maximum, we will come.What do you choose sheriff immortal life in blood or death in dust?" Marius spurred the horse, Thorne did the same, and as they both launched into a wild gallop to reach the town, Marius shouted: "Neither!!!" and he and Thorne launched into a relentless gallop and got the hell out of there. Cripple Creek was about to be swept away.
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Yes! Mr Murphy (Rewritten)
PART 29: THE PERFORMANCE
Pairing: Cillian Murphy x Reader
Warning: Lots of Angst, Age Gap, Teacher x Student, Pregnancy Loss, Infertility
Chapter Note:
This chapter explores the next six weeks from Cillian’s Point of View.
Cillian’s POV
A few days following your latest encounter at Cillian’s apartment, Dermont and Cillian sat at the pub, drinking pints of Guinness. The dimly lit room echoed with the sound of lively conversation and clinking glasses. Outside, rain drizzled down on the streets of Dublin, adding to the gloomy atmosphere that matched the melancholic state of their minds.
Cillian took a long sip from his pint, contemplating the weight of recent events, including the break up with you and the fact that, again, Nina was struggling with his separation from Danielle.
While Nina’s mental health was something Cillian and Danielle had addressed in recent days, following her having run off from his apartment, the breakup with you still had left him shattered. It was something he could not come to terms with and struggled to accept.
"You know, Dermont," Cillian began, his voice tinged with melancholy. "I can't stop thinking about her. It's driving me mad."
Dermont took a swig of his Guinness, his eyes narrowing as he studied his troubled friend. "You are still caught up on her? Jesus, man," he spoke.
"I can't help it," Cillian confessed. "She's all I think about,” he admitted in the midst of being somewhat tipsy and Dermont leaned back and crossed his arms.
"I have to admit, Cillian, I never understood why you let her go in the first place,” his friend pointed out, causing Cillian to sigh.
"It's the age difference, Dermont," Cillian lamented. "She is half my age, for God's sake. It felt wrong,” he explained and Dermont tilted his head, a sceptical expression on his face. "Age is just a number, my friend. If there's love, it transcends all that rubbish.”
Cillian snorted and took a sip of his Guinness. "You make it sound so simple, man."
"Because it is," Dermont affirmed. "Besides, you're not getting any younger either, mate."
Cillian glared at his friend playfully. "Thanks for the reminder, Dermont,” he said before asking his friend what to do.
“You should try and resolve this. If you want her back, then tell her,” Dermont pointed out and Cillian's face contorted with uncertainty. "I don't know, Dermont. I don't even know if she'd want me back after the way I ended things."
Dermont scoffed, a smirk playing on his lips. "Oh, the classic self-deprecating Cillian Murphy. Trust me, mate, shoot your shot. You never know until you try."
Cillian chuckled, his eyes lighting up with a newfound determination before remembering something else that, just days ago, you had told him about when you were made to resign.
Cillian, of course, then told Dermont all about it, including the fact that there had been an email that was sent to the dance academy, signed off by a “concerned parent”.
“I thought me and Connie were the only ones who knew at the time?” Dermont acknowledged, resulting in Cillian to nod.
“From the parents, yes…” he determined as the discovery of someone sabotaging your career had ignited a fiery determination within him. He couldn't let this stand and wanted to know who did this to you.
Dermont, ever the curious friend, frowned as he listened to Cillian tell him about the email that had, apparently, given rise to your forced resignation. "Who could have done it then, you think?" he asked, his voice tinged with concern.
Cillian sighed heavily, the lines of worry etched deep on his forehead. "I don't know, Dermont. I can't think of anyone who would stoop so low," he replied, frustration evident in his voice.
Dermont's eyes narrowed as a thought struck him like a lightning bolt. "What about Kit? She knew…" he suggested, causing Cillian's eyebrows to shoot up in surprise.
"Kit? Why would you suspect her?" Cillian questioned, his tone laced with disbelief. Kit had always seemed loyal.
Dermont leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Think about it, Cillian. Kit knows how much you still love Y/N, and you fucked her. Perhaps she grew jealous and decided to take matters into her own hands” he suggested.
Cillian's mind spun with the possibility, a flicker of doubt igniting within him. Could Kit have orchestrated this? He mulled over Dermont's theory, his eyes clouded with suspicion.
“It was just sex, man. Kit said so herself,” Cillian pointed out though while running a hand through his unruly hair. “I just can't imagine her doing something like that,” he then told his friend.
Dermont leaned back, resting his pint on the table. "Are you sure about that, mate? Kit's been acting a bit off lately. She knew how much you love Y/N, and let's face it, jealousy can turn even the sweetest of assistants into vengeful email-senders,” Dermont said jokingly, causing Cillian to chuckle momentarily.
"Don't ruin Kit for me, Dermont. She's been nothing but supportive and she is a pretty good assistant,” he pointed out as he could not believe that it may be her who sent the email.
Dermont leaned in closer, voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "But what if she's secretly in love with you and can't bear the thought of you being with someone else? People do crazy things for love, mate. Crazy things,” he pointed out.
Cillian stared at Dermont, trying to gauge whether he was being serious or just pulling his leg. "You can't be serious. Kit has been with me for years,” he said.
Dermont shrugged, a devilish grin on his face. "Hey, I'm just saying. It's worth considering. Love can make a person do all sorts of mad stuff,” he argued.
Cillian rolled his eyes, taking a long sip of his Guinness. "You watch too many telenovelas, Dermont. Kit is not the culpri-" he began to say and, just as Cillian was about to finish his sentence, his phone buzzed, signalling a new message. He pulled it out of his pocket and unlocked the screen, eyes widening as he read the name on the display - Kit.
"Speak of the devil," Dermont chuckled, raising an eyebrow. "Go on, mate. See what she wants,” Dermont told him and Cillian hesitated for a moment before opening the message. His eyes darted across the screen, his face contorting into a mixture of confusion and disbelief.
"She... she just sent me a meme of a cat wearing a hat, some Oppenheimer thing…" Cillian laughed, and Dermont burst into laughter, doubling over with mirth. "Oh, mate, you were so close to discovering her sinister plot, and she distracts you with pictures of dapper felines. She's good,” he joked.
Cillian's forehead creased with frustration as he slid his phone back into his pocket. "I can't believe I'm even entertaining this nonsense, Dermont. Kit would never betray me like that,” he was certain, but Dermont was not.
Dermont wiped away a tear of laughter, struggling to compose himself. "Okay, okay, I'll drop it. But remember, cats in hats can be dangerously distracting, especially those which build atomic weapons. Stay vigilant, my friend,” he carried on, and Cillian shook his head, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "You're an ejeet. I don't know how you come up with this stuff,” Cillian acknowledged, causing Dermont to wink playfully.
"It's a gift, mate. A gift that keeps on giving,” Dermont told his friend before they clinked their glasses together, the sound echoing through the pub as they shared a moment of lighthearted camaraderie amidst the chaos of love and betrayal.
Little did they know, the truth was lurking in the shadows, waiting to unveil its twisted face. And when it did, everything would change.
But for now, they would enjoy their pints, laughter, and the blissful ignorance that only a good pub session could provide. The mysteries could wait; they had Guinness to savour.
***
About two weeks later, Cillian and Dermont were still hunting for cues, and it was Nina who told them both to give up and let it be. According to Nina, you took up a new job with a theatre production company that specialises in musicals and dance performances, and it was one of those performances that she wanted to see.
Nina had followed you on Instagram and Facebook for weeks, and you stayed in touch. You offered her some tickets to attend the show with either her mum or dad, now that you knew that Danielle no longer held a grudge against you.
In fact, she even tried to get you reemployed which, in the end, was an offer you declined even despite the fact that the owner of the dance academy apologised to you.
"Dad, you have to take me to see her perform! Can you take me? Please?" Nina thus pleaded, her blue eyes wide with anticipation after Cillian slumped onto the couch, his brow furrowing as he stared at his daughter, who was bouncing with excitement in front of him.
Cillian sighed heavily, running his fingers through his tousled hair. "Nina, we've been through this. I don't think it's a good idea," he repeated as, just two days ago, she asked him the same question.
Nina pouted, crossing her arms stubbornly. "But Dad, she's been teaching me everything she knows about dance, and I really want to see her perform.” She begged.
Cillian's gaze softened as he looked at his daughter. He hated to disappoint her, but he had his reasons for not wanting to see you perform.
"Nina, you know how things ended between us," Cillian said, his voice tinged with sadness.
“All I know is that you broke up with her,” Nina pointed out in response, to which Cillian sighed, finding it difficult to explain to his young daughter the complexities of your relationship.
"It's a complicated situation, sweetheart. We had our differences, and age played a big part in it,” he pointed out and, immediately, Nina, being the insightful teenager she was, raised an eyebrow sceptically.
"Wait, Dad, are you saying you dumped her because she's young and cool?" she asked and Cillian shifted uncomfortably in his seat, feeling like he was on trial.
"Well, it wasn't as simple as that, but yes, age was a factor. I did not know how young she was and when I found out I realised that it couldn’t work. I didn't want her to miss out on experiences and opportunities that someone her own age could provide. Despite, my career, it…" Cillian began to say, but Nina interrupted him.
Nina crossed her arms, her eyes narrowing with determination. "Dad, you're being ridiculous. Your career? Really? You hooked up with your assistant, it’s all over the papers, but you are worried about bad press because of Y/N?” Nina spat, causing her father to gulp.
Cillian shook his head, willing himself to stay firm in his decision. "Nina, it's not that simple and I would rather not revisit this. Okay?” Cillian then shut her off which caused Nina to sit down next to her father, wrapping an arm around his shoulders.
"Dad, you need to grow up. It’s okay to be in love with someone who doesn’t quite fit within your ideals. Love is an iffy little thing, worth making sacrifices for” Nina said like a grown-up and Cillian glanced at his daughter, love and pride shining in his eyes. Nina's words struck a chord within him, making him consider her perspective.
“I read this in a book at school, don’t judge” Nina then pointed out, but the words had already sunk in.
"Maybe you're right though," Cillian reluctantly admitted and Nina beamed, her blue eyes sparkling with triumph.
“Does this mean you take me to see her performance?” Nina wanted to know and Cillian nodded.
“Yes, but only because I know it means a lot to you and you grew up to be so wise” Cillian chuckled softly, giving Nina a playful nudge.
Nina squealed with delight, throwing her arms around Cillian in a tight hug. "Thank you, thank you, thank you, Dad! You won't be disappointed, I swear!" she told him while Cillian found himself chuckling again, unable to resist his daughter's infectious enthusiasm.
"All right, calm down, you. Now, tell me more about it. Is it a ballet?” Cillian asked and Nina's eyes sparkled with excitement as she launched into an animated description of the contemporary ballet assembly you were part of.
Listening to Nina, Cillian found his curiosity piqued. Maybe it was time he saw for himself what he had been missing and, as Nina continued to regale him with tales of your talent, Cillian couldn't help but wonder if he had made a mistake by letting you go.
The performance was weeks away, but Cillian promised Nina that he would take her to see you. Deep down, he hoped that by witnessing your prowess on stage, he would find closure and the strength to move on. But, unfortunately for him, he would soon learn that the opposite was the case.
In the days leading up to the performance, Cillian's mind became consumed with memories of you.
He recalled your laughter, your teasing smiles, and the passion that ignited between you both, erasing any concerns about age differences or what society might think.
As the date drew nearer, Cillian's heart felt heavy, a mixture of anticipation and trepidation. He found himself becoming increasingly nervous and couldn't help but wonder what seeing you dance on stage again would do to him.
***
A few weeks later, when the night of your performance had arrived, Cillian waited at the theatre's entrance, fidgeting with his ticket in hand.
Nina, dressed in an elegant dress, bounced beside him and Cillian's heart swelled with pride at Nina's excitement. He took a deep breath, hoping that tonight would bring him the closure he needed.
They had good seats, three rows from the front and when Cillian took his seat in the dimly lit theatre, a flutter of anticipation in his stomach.
The lights dimmed, hushing the buzzing crowd. The stage came alive, bathed in ethereal hues of purple and blue.
The first dancers appeared, their movements captivating the audience. But Cillian's gaze remained fixed on the edge of the stage, waiting for your entrance.
And then, there you were, gracefully gliding across the stage, your body a mesmerising blur of movement.
Cillian's breath caught in his throat as he watched you, his eyes hungrily drinking in every sway of your hips and arch of your back.
The music swelled, and you leapt into the air, defying gravity with an effortless elegance. The audience erupted into applause.
Cillian's heart raced, torn between the memories of what once was and the undeniable beauty he witnessed before him.
As the performance went on, Cillian found himself entranced by your talent, lost in the way your body spoke a language all its own.
He couldn't look away from you, from the raw emotion etched across your face, from the way your body moved with a combination of strength and vulnerability.
Cillian's breath hitched as you effortlessly leapt and twirled through the air, your passion radiating from every pore. It was as if time stood still, the world narrowing down to just the two of you.
Act after act, Cillian remained glued to his seat, unable to tear his eyes away from your performance. The audience erupted in applause after each routine, but for Cillian, it was an internal symphony of emotions.
As the final act approached, Cillian's heart pounded in his chest. It was a moment of truth, a moment where he had to face his feelings head-on and decide what he truly wanted.
The lights dimmed, leaving only a single spotlight illuminating the stage. You stood there, a vision in black, poised and ready to unleash the depths of your soul through movement.
Cillian held his breath as the hauntingly beautiful music began. Every step you took seemed to echo in his heart, the ache of longing mingling with the bittersweet melody.
The dance spoke volumes, conveying a story of love and loss, of two souls intertwined in an eternal dance of desire and hesitancy. Cillian couldn't help but see himself in the narrative.
The climax of the performance drew near, a moment of climax and intensity where you and your partner poured all your emotions onto the stage. The chemistry between you was palpable.
Cillian's heart raced, his fingers involuntarily clenching around the edge of his seat. His eyes locked with yours, and he knew in that moment that he couldn't deny his feelings any longer.
The dance came to a crescendo and the audience erupted in thunderous applause, but Cillian was rooted to his spot, emotions swirling within him.
Nina's eyes flickered between you and her father, sensing his conflicted emotions.
She reached out a hand, resting it gently on Cillian's arm. "Dad, are you okay?"
Cillian tore his eyes away from you, his voice thick with emotion. "I... we should go soon” he stammered and Nina gave him a sympathetic smile, squeezing his arm reassuringly.
“Do you want to go and talk to her?” Nina asked as tears glimmered in Cillian's eyes.
“No, we should go,” Cillian told his daughter just as the lights came on.
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