#I could add more but I felt like this was a good mix of general recs for newcomers

[jjs-brainrot]

Are there any yuri manga/anime that you would recommend to a new fan of the genre? Everyone swears by Utena but I don't think I have the mental fortitude for a show like that yet.

Sure thing!

Bloom Into You by Nio Nakatani

(manga and anime)

It's the classic newcomer entry point but there's a reason it's still as highly lauded as it is: It is just that good. It's got excellent drama, the main two characters have a really great and intriguing dynamic between them and it much more openly acknowledge the queerness of it's characters then a lot of yuri before it did. A lot of the more recent yuri mangakas regard it as a major inspiration, and the anime getting as big as it did tends to be seen as one of the major factors in the yuri boom we've been experiencing the last 4 years or so.

Both the anime and manga for it are excellent, though the anime only covers the first couple of volumes (which unfortunately is something I can say about about most stuff on this list as yuri anime tend to not get more then a single cour...)

Whisper Me a Love Song by Eku Takeshima

(manga and anime (not recommended))

Had to get at least one band yuri on the list. Unfortunately, the recent anime for Whisper Me a Love Song kind of turned into a trash fire. Which sucks as the manga itself is quite excellent. Early chapters are very cute and sweet and the later chapters have some very spicy drama.

I really can't recommend the anime for this one so it's a manga only recommendation outside of maybe checking out a playlist of the songs from the anime when they appear in the manga.

How Do We Relationship? by Tamifull

(manga only atm)

Hands down one of the best examinations/dissection of what it means to be in a relationship from any romance series I've ever read. Every character feels like they're written as people with their own likes/dislikes and feelings towards romance and sex instead of romance character archetypes. it genuinely feels like you're watching people navigate their differences to make a relationship work rather than a "these two were made for each other" style romance series.

That being said, this is probably the hardest to read series on this list as it can absolutely get way too real at times and also does not shy away from talking about heavier subject such as homophobia, trauma, etc.

School Zone Girls by Ningiyau

(manga only atm)

This is basically a Nichijou/Daily Lives of High School Boys style slapstick comedy but full blown yuri. If you're a fan of stupid x stupid, this is the series for you as there are so many morons (affectionate) in love with each other here.

Unfortunately, the manga is currently on indefinite hiatus while the mangaka works on other projects which is the main downside of this one but it's still def worth checking out.

I'm in Love with the Villainess by Inori

(light novel(audiobook version also available), manga and anime)

Otome game villainess isekai romcom that is very gay while also being extremely frank when it comes to discussing queerness, bigotry and uneven wealth/power distribution. It's a series that that ardently refuses to use subtext at every turn which is quite respectable given how many yuri tend to dance around discussing queerness outside of "they're in love". It's not perfect and does have its flaws (enough to get labelled as "problematic" by the usual ingrates) but its strengths easily elevate it to one best yuri series from last couple of years.

The anime and manga are both excellent (with both the JP and EN dubs of the anime being fantastic) but they are pretty behind compared to the light novels (anime only goes up to the first chapter of the second book and the manga is roughly 70% through the second book). The light novels are genuinely excellent reads so if you get caught up on the other two, I'd def recommend picking up the LNs.

Superwomen in Love! Honey Trap and Rapid Rabbit by sometime

(manga only atm)

What if Kamen Rider but yuri?... That's basically it on my sale tbh. It's an extremely gay yuri tokusatsu. It's genuinely a crime that it has not gotten an anime or an actual live action tokusatsu...

[frmisnow]

total loser. ⊹₊⟡ nsfw.

summary. crashing a party just to unwind? yeah, that was the plan — until you end up sharing a smoke with the lead singer of that metal band. turns out the ‘playboy sex god’ image? total myth. awkward, tipsy, and apparently… a virgin?! this night just got interesting !

warnings / includes. all fictional ofc, smoking, drinking, suggestive themes, soft!dom reader

damned be after parties.

but long live your connections and well.. pretty face, that's what gets you in one of these special parties, pretty privilige is alive and breathing!

for the fact that this was an after party of a last tour show for one of the biggest metal bands right now, you'd imagine it to be a lot more expensive. these red plastic cups just don't cut it, and whose idea was it to squeeze so many people into one little room? that's the charm of the metal industry, i guess.

apropos charm of the metal industry?

you'd think somebody put something in your drink, the way you see the jungkook in front of your eyes right now? leaned up against a wall, nursing what looked like his fourth shot, hair messy like he just got of stage.

one of his bandmates stumbles past, slapping him on the back, and jungkook nearly loses his balance. He mutters something, barely audible over the music, brows drawn together in this adorable mix of annoyance and confusion. his eyes trail over the room before ultimately settling back onto the man in front of him, patting his back, a cigarette pack in his hand.

you made your way through the people, way to much sweat and way to close might i add, did you look obssesive? maybe. but the cold night air sounded heavenly and you could use a good smoke. plus, you'd rather come of as a groupie then get suffocated on the dance floor.

with each step, you felt the chaos of the party fade a little more. the fresh air hit your face like a slap, and you welcomed it, relishing the brief moment of solitude. But you weren’t the only one seeking a breather.

jungkook pushed off the wall, nearly colliding with you as you stepped outside. the cold night air was a relief, sharp and refreshing, cutting through the haze of noise and sweat. he fumbled with the cigarette pack, almost dropping it as he tried to shake one out, his fingers clumsy from the alcohol.

"need a light?” you offered, pulling your lighter from your pocket.

he met your gaze, a hint of gratitude in those dark eyes, before quickly looking anywhere else but you, “thanks. I usually don’t smoke, but—” he paused, taking a deep drag before exhaling a cloud of smoke. “i guess i just get… scared. so, i drink. and then i drink some more and then i start smoking, it's a bad habit.”

silence fell over the both of you, you didn't decide to pry since that'd just be rude. even though there were quite a few thoughts in your head. why was he scared? rather, who was he scared of?

after a while (and plenty of drags), jungkooks voice cut through the carefully established silence, small and quiet, a mumbling-like tone that made him seem tipsy, "i don't know i just want to feel something.." he trails off, shaking his head, clearly oversharing, "i mean no, i feel something when i'm on stage i just-"

he took a breath, taking another drag before ultimately stupping it out with his shoe, giving him another oppurtunity to not stare at you, "would you have sex with me?"

the next thing you knew, you were standing outside jungkook’s apartment, the door slightly ajar, a hesitant light spilling into the hallway. you weren't proud of it, but you also didn't have time to really think it through? teaching a hot rockstar virgin how to have sex? that sounds ai-generated and it was simply something you couldn't pass up on.

he fumbled with the keys, his fingers still shaky from the drinks or maybe that was just him, you'd seen his feet tap onto the floor multiple times throught the uber and his eyes never quite seemed to settle. maybe he was just a naturally anxious person, that's the impression he gave of.

the place was small but cozy, with a faint scent of lingering smoke and rock posters plastered across the walls, giving it an oddly inviting charm.

"i think you're really pretty." he managed to hold eye contact this time around, though he was clearly fidgety.

you smiled, genuinely, a rush of flush going straight to your cheeks, fuck weren't you supposed to be the compsoed one? yet he was so sweet in a way. "flattery won't get you anywhere but it's a nice start."

he grinned, walking ahead of you intot he kitchen, the small amount of alcohol he had in his system making him lose some balance in his step but he quickly recomposed himself, his eyes lingering on you for just a second longer then last time, "would you like some water?"

you don't think you've ever had anybody ask you if you wanted to drink water during a hookup, but you welcome the thought. see? so sweet, how would you even teach him sex?

"sure." you respond, shrugging, as he pours some in, "can i kiss you?"

he nods, the water in the glass swirling in small circles as he takes a step closer towards you—he's so close you can feel his breath on your skin, each one of his exhales and inhales—his eyes on you, "yeah."

his tone is quiet, but firm and his free hand slowly reaches to your waist, "can i touch you?"

you hush a 'yeah', closing the gap between the both of you, pulling your shirt of yourself.

as he grasped the lace of your bra, he hesitated, uncertainty flickering in his eyes. you guided his hands, gently tugging him on, the material falling away effortlessly.

"oh.." he gasped, like all the air had been knocked out of his lungs, eyes taking a quick glance on the now exposed skin in front of him—all of the tension he was carrying in his shoulders quickly disappearing.

he put the glass down on the nearest surface, "sit on the couch." he mumbled, breath shaky as he gently pushed you back.

"woah commanding now?" you raised your eyebrows, genuine surprise written over your face though you grin, walking down the hallway, sitting down.

"i'm a quick learner." he muttered, his eyes on you as he followed behind, quickly making his way on the couch, sitting incredibly close to you. he leaned forward, his body hovering over yours before he quickly put his mouth on your neck, leaving small kisses on the skin.

you encouraged him, tugging him closer, your fingers weaving into his hair as he found his rhythm. with every kiss, he grew bolder, his hands exploring the curves of your body like he was savoring something sweet.

you pulled him down with you, laughter escaping your lips as he stumbled slightly, catching himself with a grin.

“okay, maybe I’m not a pro at this,” he said, his cheeks slightly flushed. You smirked, enjoying his awkward charm.

you guided his hands, showing him how to touch, how to tease. the couch squeaked under you as you shifted positions, getting more comfortable. his kisses became more confident, more demanding, each one igniting a fire within you.

as his clothes started to come off, the atmosphere became charged. You watched as his eyes widened, a mix of surprise and desire flooding his expression. he was eager, and you were more than willing to lead the way.

you tangled your fingers with his, showing him what felt good, how to respond to your body. he mirrored your movements, following your lead, the shy, awkward dweeb from earlier replaced by someone more daring. you sucessfully managed to change a rockstar; that'd look good on a resume.

[mrsfancyferrari]

Need Saving

Summary: You are the first woman to be racing in Formula 1 and you and Max are already best friends. To Jos' dismay.

Song: Me and Your Mama by Childish Gambino

Part 2 - Part 3 Author’s note: CW: sexist comments, domestic violence (not from Max). I'm still salty about Daniel Ricciardo's exit to Formula 1 so I decided to add him a little here. THIS WILL BE A SERIES AND THANK YOU FOR THE 500 FOLLOWERS! Please like, reblog and share this! <3 ALSO IT'S MY BIRTHDAY!

Word count: 10.8k

You are making history as the first woman to compete in Formula 1 with the Red Bull team, stepping in for Sergio Perez.

This groundbreaking achievement not only highlights your talent but also paves the way for future generations of female racers in a sport traditionally dominated by men.

Your personality shines through with a warm and friendly demeanor that makes you incredibly approachable. Colleagues and fans alike find you likable, creating an inviting atmosphere wherever you go.

This charm not only endears you to those around you but also helps foster a supportive environment within the competitive world of racing

Some have affectionately dubbed you the "Mini Honey Badger," a nod to the legendary Daniel Ricciardo. This playful comparison reflects your fierce determination and tenacity on the track, qualities that resonate with fans and fellow racers.

Your unique blend of charisma and competitive spirit is sure to leave a lasting impression in the world of Formula 1.

Luckily, you found yourself paired with one of the most talented drivers in the sport, Max Verstappen.

From the very beginning, you and Max clicked effortlessly, perhaps due to your shared sense of humor or the lighthearted way you both approached life outside of racing.

Max, known for his fierce competitiveness on the track, also had a playful side that drew you in. Whether it was sharing funny anecdotes from your childhood or engaging in friendly banter about each other's driving styles, the connection felt natural and invigorating.

You both understood the pressures of the sport, yet you managed to find joy in the little moments, whether it was a shared laugh over a silly meme or a light-hearted debate about the best racing video games.

This bond not only made your time together enjoyable but also fostered a sense of trust and teamwork that would prove invaluable as the season progressed.

During your initial week in Formula 1, the team was treated to a mix of corny jokes and uproarious laughter, creating an atmosphere that was both fun and relaxed.

It was clear that the camaraderie between you two was something special, and it didn’t take long for everyone to notice. The garage, usually filled with the tension of competition, transformed into a space of joy and lightheartedness.

You and Max would often engage in playful challenges, like who could come up with the worst dad joke or who could impersonate the team’s engineers the best.

These moments not only broke the ice but also helped to build a strong team spirit.

The mechanics and engineers, who often worked long hours under pressure, found themselves smiling more often, and the overall morale of the team improved.

It was as if your infectious energy had a ripple effect, reminding everyone that while racing was serious business, it was also about passion, fun, and the love of the sport.

Christian Horner, the team principal, seemed to recognize this chemistry right away.

He confidently remarked to the media about the dynamic of having a girl and a boy on the same team, suggesting that he had a good feeling about the partnership.

His words resonated with the fans and the media alike, sparking conversations about the evolving landscape of motorsport and the importance of diversity within the sport. It was evident that the two of you were destined to make waves together on and off the track.

Christian’s faith in your partnership only fueled your determination to succeed.

You both knew that the expectations were high, but instead of feeling overwhelmed, you embraced the challenge.

"Joseph, can you give me an update on the gap behind?" you inquired, your voice steady as it crackled through the radio to your race engineer.

The sound of your own heartbeat echoed in your ears, a reminder of the high stakes at play.

"You're looking at a 5-second lead over Norris, Y/N," Joseph Duke responded, his tone calm and focused.

As you navigated the track, the adrenaline surged through your veins, heightening your senses.

The smell of burning rubber and the roar of engines filled the air, but your focus remained solely on the asphalt ahead.

Max was currently leading the race, and you were right on his tail, just a heartbeat away from making a decisive move.

With the world championship points on the line, every second counted, and the team’s strategy was crucial.

"Copy that, Joseph. I’m feeling good about this pace. Should I push to overtake Max?" you asked, weighing your options.

The tension in the air was palpable, and you could almost hear the roar of the crowd in your mind, their cheers and gasps fueling your determination.

You could picture the fans waving flags, the excitement building as the race unfolded.

"Remember, he’s leading the championship, so those points are vital for him," Joseph reminded you, his voice steady and measured.

You took a deep breath, considering the risks and rewards of your next move. The thought of overtaking Max was tantalizing, but the consequences of a miscalculation loomed large.

"Understood. But if I don’t make a move soon, he might pull away," you replied, your mind racing through the possibilities.

You could see the track ahead, the curves and straightaways that could either make or break your race.

"Just keep your head in the game, Y/N. Focus on your lines and stay patient. The opportunity will come," Joseph advised, his experience guiding you through the chaos.

You nodded, even though he couldn’t see you, reminding yourself that patience was key.

As you approached the next turn, you felt the car respond to your every command, the tires gripping the asphalt with precision.

You could see Max’s car just ahead, a flash of blue and white, and the urge to push harder surged within you.

"Alright, I’ll hold back for now, but I’m ready when the moment strikes," you said, determination lacing your words.

The opportunity to seize the grand prix had slipped through your fingers, leaving you with a bittersweet taste of second place as Max celebrated his victory.

It wasn’t that you felt anger towards him; after all, the stakes were high, and the competition was fierce.

You had performed admirably, even outshining Checo this season, and Red Bull was finally back to their P1-P2 glory.

As you stepped out of your car, the adrenaline still coursing through your veins, you spotted Max waiting for you, his helmet off and a look of concern etched on his face.

He rushed over, his expression serious as he enveloped you in a quick hug. “You don’t hate me, do you?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

You couldn’t help but chuckle at the unexpected question. Removing your helmet, you met his gaze with a warm smile. “Of course not! But don’t think I’ll go easy on you next week,” you replied playfully, your competitive spirit igniting once more.

Max’s face lit up with a genuine smile, the tension dissipating. “Mate, I won’t go down that easy!” he shot back, his eyes sparkling with the thrill of rivalry.

As you made your way to celebrate with the team, you noticed the difference in how they treated you compared to Max. While he was hoisted into the air, receiving enthusiastic cheers and bone-crushing hugs, you felt a more cautious approach directed your way.

It was a subtle reminder of the gender dynamics at play in the sport. You brushed it off, focusing instead on the camaraderie and the shared passion that brought you all together.

The post-race atmosphere was electric, filled with the sounds of laughter, clinking glasses, and the occasional shout of joy.

You joined in the celebrations, clapping your hands and cheering for your teammates, but a part of you remained introspective.

You replayed the race in your mind, analyzing every corner, every overtaking maneuver, and every missed opportunity.

The thrill of competition was intoxicating, but so was the desire to prove yourself, not just to the team but to the world.

As the evening unfolded, you found yourself lingering at the periphery of the lively celebration, your gaze fixed on Max as he reveled in the spotlight of his victory.

He was the star of the night, the one everyone clamored to congratulate, while you stood in the shadows, merely the second driver.

Christian approached, giving your shoulder a friendly pat, a gesture of appreciation for your support. Yet, it felt insufficient.

You masked your feelings with a bright smile as you watched Max raise his glass, laughter spilling from his lips as the clock inched toward midnight.

“Goodnight, Max,” you called out, aware that your boyfriend, Jake would be less than pleased if you lingered too long.

“Goodnight, best friend! Did I mention you look lovely tonight?” Max replied, his words slightly slurred as he pulled you into a warm embrace.

You felt your cheeks heat up. “No, you didn’t! Thank you, Max. You look great too!” you managed to say, your heart fluttering at the compliment.

As the night wore on, you exchanged goodbyes with the others, the atmosphere buzzing with joy and celebration.

You decided it was time to head home, opting for a taxi since you had indulged in a few drinks earlier.

Once inside the cab, you leaned back against the seat, reflecting on the evening. The laughter, the cheers, and the way Max had shone like a beacon of success.

It was hard not to feel a twinge of envy, but you pushed it aside, reminding yourself of the bond you shared.

The driver navigated through the city streets, and you pulled out your phone, scrolling through the photos from the night.

There was Max, grinning ear to ear, surrounded by friends, and there you were, a supportive figure in the background.

Just as the car turned, your phone buzzed in your pocket, and you glanced down to see a message from Jake.

“Where are you?” he texted, the words appearing on your screen like a gentle reminder of the warmth waiting for you at home.

You smiled, feeling a rush of affection as you typed back, “Just left the party! On my way home now. Can’t wait to see you!”

The taxi weaved through the city streets, and you could almost picture him waiting for you, perhaps pacing a little, his brow furrowed in that adorable way he did when he was worried.

You could hear his voice in your head, teasing you about how you always took too long to say goodbye, but you knew he loved it just as much as you did.

As the taxi pulled up to your building, you felt a flutter of excitement. You paid the driver and hurried inside, your heart racing with anticipation.

As you stepped into the apartment, a heavy scent of alcohol hit you like a wave, and your heart sank.

The cheerful anticipation you had felt moments before evaporated, replaced by a knot of anxiety in your stomach. You knew Jake had been struggling lately, and the telltale signs of his mood were all around you.

Empty bottles cluttered the coffee table, their labels peeling and faded, remnants of nights spent drowning sorrows that seemed to multiply with each passing day.

Taking a deep breath, you cautiously made your way further inside, hoping to find a glimmer of the warmth you once cherished, a flicker of the love that had once filled this space.

“Hey, babe, I’m home!” you called out, trying to inject some cheer into the atmosphere, but your voice felt small and fragile against the oppressive silence that enveloped the room.

The silence that followed was deafening, and you could feel the tension in the air, thick and suffocating.

Just then, he emerged from the shadows of the living room, his eyes glassy and unfocused, as if he were peering through a fog that had settled deep within him.

“Oh, look who decided to show up,” he sneered, his voice dripping with sarcasm, each word laced with bitterness. “Did you have fun pretending to be normal out there?”

You felt a chill run down your spine as he continued, hurling insults that cut deeper than you wanted to admit.

It was as if he was trying to push you away, to create a chasm between you that felt insurmountable.

And yet, amidst the hurt, you couldn’t help but feel a pang of sympathy for the man you loved, the one who was lost beneath layers of pain and anger.

“Why do you always have to do this?” you asked, your voice trembling slightly, the vulnerability in your tone betraying the strength you wished to project. “I just want to help you.”

He scoffed, dismissing your concern with a wave of his hand, the gesture almost theatrical in its disdain. “Help? You mean control. You think you can just waltz in here and fix everything? You’re just like everyone else, trying to tell me what to do.”

The words stung, and you felt the weight of his accusations pressing down on you, each syllable a reminder of the distance that had grown between you.

“I’m not trying to control you,” you replied softly, “I just want to be there for you. Can’t we talk about this?”

But as you looked into his eyes, you realized that the man you once knew was slipping further away, lost in a haze of his own making.

His gaze, once so full of life and passion, now seemed clouded, distant. It was as if he was peering through a murky window, unable or unwilling to see the vibrant world outside.

You could see the shadows of his struggles etched on his face, the lines of worry and anger deepening with each passing day. It pained you to witness this transformation, to see the light in him dimmed by his own fears and insecurities.

“Why can’t you see that I’m trying to help?” you pressed, your heart racing as desperation crept into your voice. “I’m not your enemy. I want to understand what you’re going through.”

You took a tentative step closer, hoping to bridge the gap that felt insurmountable.

But he recoiled slightly, as if your words were a physical blow, and the distance between you felt more pronounced than ever.

“Understand?” he scoffed, his tone laced with bitterness. “You think you can just waltz in and understand? You have no idea what it’s like to feel trapped, to have every choice taken from you. You don’t know the weight of this burden.”

His voice cracked, revealing a flicker of vulnerability beneath the bravado.

As soon as you opened your mouth to speak, Jake brushed by you, grabbing his coat and shoes in one swift motion.

"I'm heading out for a walk. Don't even think about following me," he snapped, his words laced with the sting of alcohol.

You simply nodded, feeling a mix of concern and frustration, but you stayed rooted in place until you heard the door slam shut behind him.

With the sound echoing in the silence, you finally exhaled, the tension in your chest easing just a bit. You glanced around the room, the remnants of the night scattered everywhere—empty bottles and crumpled napkins littered the floor.

"Guess it's cleanup time," you muttered to yourself, bending down to gather the bottles. As you worked, your mind raced with thoughts of him.

Just then, your phone buzzed on the table. It was a message from your best friend, Sarah.

"Hey! How's everything? You okay?"

You sighed, typing back quickly. "Not great. He just stormed out after a fight. I’m cleaning up the mess now."

A moment later, your phone chimed again. "Want me to come over? I can help."

You hesitated, glancing at the door. "No, it’s fine. I just need to sort things out."

"Are you sure? You shouldn’t be alone right now."

You paused, considering her words. "I’ll be okay. I just need to think."

As you continued to tidy up, you replayed the argument in your mind. It had started over something trivial, but the alcohol had turned it into a full-blown fight.

You could hear his voice in your head, the way he had raised his tone, the way he had dismissed your feelings.

"Why does he always do this?" you whispered to yourself, frustration bubbling up again.

You were well aware that he wouldn’t be returning anytime soon.

After tidying up the house, you decided to treat yourself to a long, relaxing bath.

The warm water enveloped you, washing away the day’s worries. Once you felt refreshed, you slipped into your favorite pajamas and crawled into bed, the soft sheets providing a comforting embrace.

He hadn’t always been this way—filled with anger and lost in the depths of alcoholism.

You both had shared a beautiful love story, starting as high school sweethearts. You could still remember the way he used to look at you, his eyes sparkling with affection, mirroring the love you felt for him.

As you lay there, memories flooded your mind. You recalled the laughter, the late-night talks, and the dreams you had built together. But now, those dreams felt like distant echoes, overshadowed by the weight of his struggles.

Maybe it was the pressure of work that was taking a toll on him. You thought back to the last time you had a heart-to-heart.

“Do you remember when we used to talk about our future?” you had asked him one evening, the two of you sitting on the porch, the sun setting in a blaze of colors.

He had sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Yeah, I remember. It feels like a lifetime ago.”

“Things can get better, you know. We can work through this together,” you had urged, your heart aching for the man you once knew.

He had looked away, his expression clouded. “I don’t know if I can. Sometimes it feels like I’m drowning, and I don’t know how to swim anymore.”

You had reached for his hand, squeezing it gently. “You’re not alone in this. I’m here for you, always.”

But as the days turned into weeks, the distance between you grew. The man you loved was slipping away, replaced by someone you barely recognized.

Now, lying in bed, you couldn’t help but wonder if he would ever find his way back to you. Would he remember the love you once shared? Would he fight against the demons that haunted him?

With a heavy heart, you closed your eyes, hoping that tomorrow would bring a glimmer of hope, a sign that the man you loved was still inside, waiting to break free.

As you settled into bed, the glow of your phone screen illuminated the dark room, revealing a flurry of notifications that had accumulated while you were winding down.

Most of them were filled with excitement, congratulating you on your impressive second-place finish in the race. However, amidst the sea of cheerful messages, one stood out—a private note from Max.

While some comments stung with negativity, suggesting you didn’t belong in the world of Formula 1, Max’s message was a beacon of warmth.

“Thanks for coming to celebrate with me 👍,” it read, and a smile crept across your face, momentarily pushing away the weight of the harsh words.

You felt a mix of emotions swirling within you, and for a moment, tears threatened to spill over. But instead of succumbing to the sadness, you decided to respond to Max.

Your fingers danced over the screen as you typed, “I wouldn’t have missed it for the world, you deserved it! 😁” The moment you hit send, a sense of relief washed over you.

It was a reminder that amidst the criticism, there were still those who appreciated your presence and celebrated your achievements.

You could almost hear Max’s laughter echoing in your mind, a sound that always seemed to lift your spirits.

Just as you were about to put your phone down, a new message popped up from Max. “You really made the night special! I’m glad you were there. Let’s catch up soon?”

His words filled you with warmth, and you could picture him grinning with alcohol still in his system, his eyes sparkling with enthusiasm.

“Absolutely! I’d love to,” you replied, feeling a renewed sense of purpose.

After setting your phone aside for the night, you drifted off to sleep, the soft hum of the world outside fading into a distant memory.

When you awoke, you were enveloped in a warm embrace, the kind that felt like home. Instantly, you recognized the familiar presence of Jake, his body radiating warmth against yours.

The scent of alcohol lingered in the air, a reminder of his previous night out with friends, a detail that both amused and concerned you.

A smile crept across your face as you turned to see him, his features relaxed and serene, a stark contrast to the tension that had marked his demeanor the night before.

Curiosity sparked within you, igniting a flurry of questions as you pondered where he had spent his time, what stories he might have to share, and whether the night had been as wild as you imagined.

You felt a rush of affection for him, a desire to know every detail of his adventures, to understand the man who had captured your heart so completely.

Despite the warnings from your friends urging you to reconsider your relationship, your feelings for him remained steadfast, unwavering like a lighthouse in a storm.

They claimed he was a source of trouble, a tempest that could jeopardize your career and stir up scandals that would ripple through your life.

Yet, deep down, you understood him better than they did, seeing the layers of his character that they overlooked. You believed in his integrity, in the goodness that lay beneath the surface, and you knew he wouldn’t intentionally cause chaos in your life.

Their concerns echoed in your mind, but they felt distant, like the sound of waves crashing against a far-off shore.

You were determined to forge your own path, to trust your instincts, and to embrace the love that had blossomed between you, even if it meant standing alone against the tide of skepticism.

Although your relationship was already in the public eye, with whispers and speculation swirling around you like autumn leaves caught in a gust of wind, he had yet to join you in the paddock due to his work commitments.

You felt a mix of anticipation and longing, a bittersweet ache in your chest as you navigated the bustling environment without him by your side.

As you glanced at your phone, the screen illuminated the early morning hour, signaling it was time for your daily jog.

You carefully extricated yourself from Jake's embrace, trying not to disturb his peaceful slumber.

Just as you were about to tiptoe out of the room, you caught a faint mumble escaping his lips, a mix of sleep and concern. “Where are you going?” he murmured, his voice thick with drowsiness.

You paused for a moment, torn between the urge to reassure him and the need to stick to your routine.

“I’m just going for a quick run, love. I’ll be back before you know it,” you replied softly, hoping to ease any lingering worries. His brow furrowed slightly, even in his sleep, as if he sensed your departure was more than just a morning ritual.

“You always run too early… what if someone sees you?” he muttered, a hint of jealousy creeping into his voice, even in his dreams.

With a gentle smile, you leaned down to plant a quick kiss on his forehead. “I’ll be fine, I promise. It’s just me and the open road. You know I love my morning jogs.”

You could feel the tension in the air, a familiar weight that often accompanied your outings. “Okay,” he finally said, though the uncertainty lingered in his tone.

You quickly changed into your jogging attire before stepping out of the house. With a sense of urgency, you slipped into your comfortable workout gear, ready to embrace the fresh air outside.

The fabric of your favorite moisture-wicking shirt clung to your skin, and the soft elastic of your running shorts felt familiar and reassuring.

You laced up your well-worn sneakers, the soles still resilient from countless miles, and took a moment to stretch your legs, feeling the anticipation build within you.

Once dressed, you felt the excitement of the run ahead, eager to hit the pavement and enjoy the rhythm of your feet against the ground.

The world outside beckoned, vibrant and alive, as you opened the door and stepped into the crisp morning air. The scent of dew-kissed grass and blooming flowers filled your lungs, invigorating your spirit.

You took a deep breath, letting the coolness wash over you, and with a quick glance at the sky, you noted the sun just beginning to rise, casting a golden hue across the horizon.

As you began to jog, the familiar cadence of your heartbeat matched the steady thump of your feet on the pavement. Each stride felt liberating, a release from the confines of the day-to-day.

You could feel the tension of the week melting away with every step, replaced by a sense of freedom and clarity.

The rhythmic sound of your breath mingled with the rustle of leaves and the distant chirping of birds, creating a symphony of nature that accompanied you on your journey.

As you were enjoying your morning jog through the park, the rhythmic sound of your feet hitting the pavement was suddenly interrupted by a group of enthusiastic voices.

A cluster of women and girls approached you, their faces lighting up with excitement. "Excuse me! Miss Y/N! Can we get your autograph?" one of them exclaimed, her eyes sparkling with admiration.

You paused, a bit surprised but also flattered, and smiled at the eager crowd. "Of course! I’d be happy to," you replied, pulling out a small notepad from your pocket.

Amid the chatter, a young girl stepped forward, her cheeks flushed with excitement. "I want to start go-karting because I want to be just like you!" she declared, her voice filled with determination.

You could see the passion in her eyes, and it warmed your heart. "That’s amazing! Go-karting is such a fun sport," you encouraged her. "What do you love most about it?"

The girl beamed, her confidence growing as she shared her dreams of racing and the thrill of speed. "I love the idea of being in control and going fast! It looks so cool!"

You nodded, feeling a sense of responsibility to inspire her. "You know, every champion starts somewhere. If you really want to do it, just keep practicing and never give up. Surround yourself with people who support you, and you’ll go far," you advised, hoping to instill a sense of belief in her.

The girl’s eyes widened, and she nodded vigorously. "I will! Thank you so much!"

As the group dispersed, you felt a renewed sense of purpose, realizing that your journey could inspire others to chase their dreams, just as you had. . . .

As the days rolled on, the team decided to spice things up a bit before race week by organizing a fun game called "How Well Do You Know Each Other."

The idea was to not only entertain the fans but also to give everyone a glimpse into the camaraderie between you and Max.

You found yourself standing in front of the camera, a mix of excitement and nerves bubbling inside you, while Max lounged comfortably on the sofa behind you, his headphones snugly in place, unable to listen in.

The staff kicked off the game with a playful tone, "Alright, let’s start with you! The first question about Max is… what is Max's favorite food?" You grinned, confident in your knowledge of your teammate.

"Oh, I know this one! Max is a huge fan of both Italian and Dutch cuisine, while I personally lean more towards Spanish dishes," you replied, your voice filled with enthusiasm.

The crew chuckled, clearly enjoying the banter, and you could see Max nodding in agreement, a smirk on his face even though he didn't know what you said.

After a few more questions, it was time for the roles to reverse. You took a seat on the sofa, and Max stood in front of the camera, a playful glint in his eyes.

The staff asked him the same question, and he leaned forward, a teasing smile forming. "Well, I know my teammate pretty well! She loves her Spanish food, but I think she secretly wishes she could cook like an Italian chef," he joked.

"You better be getting this right, I wanna beat Charles and Carlos' record," you said, feeling the competitive in you to beat Ferrari's record of 18 out of 20 right.

Max only turned around and gave an okay sign since you couldn't hear him, adding a little small wink for the tease but it was caught on camera.

In the end, both you and Max aced all the questions, and the excitement bubbled over as you jumped up and down, your energy infectious. Max stood nearby, a wide grin spreading across his face as he watched your enthusiasm.

"See, everyone! Red Bull is clearly the superior team compared to Ferrari, so make sure to support us this week!" you exclaimed, wrapping up the video with a flourish.

As you turned to Max, you noticed he was still gazing at you, lost in thought. It took you by surprise.

"Max, do you want to add anything to what I just said?" you asked, a playful grin on your face as you nudged his shoulder gently.

Snapping back to reality, Max turned to the camera, a hint of sheepishness in his expression.

"Oh, umm, yeah… Red Bull domination, I guess?" he replied, his voice a mix of uncertainty and enthusiasm.

You couldn't help but burst into laughter at his response, and Max's smile widened, clearly pleased that he could make you laugh.

"Alright, everyone, that's a wrap! We'll catch you all soon. Fingers crossed for another P1-P2 finish, but maybe next time we can switch things up a bit," you said, waving enthusiastically at the camera.

As the camera clicked off, you turned to the crew with a warm smile, expressing your gratitude for their support. You shifted your focus to Max, who was standing nearby, a mix of anticipation and amusement on his face.

"Hey, Max," you began, a playful glint in your eye. "How does it feel to be the most compatible drivers on the grid?"

Max's eyes widened slightly at the phrase "most compatible," and you could see a hint of color rising to his cheeks. But as soon as he processed the word "driver," his expression shifted to one of mild disappointment.

"It feels nice, I guess," he replied, a smirk creeping onto his lips. "Just another thing to brag about to Lando, right?"

You chuckled, knowing how much Max loved to tease his fellow drivers. "Oh, absolutely! I can already picture it—Lando rolling his eyes while you go on about how you and I are the ultimate duo."

Max laughed, shaking his head. "He'll probably come up with some ridiculous comeback, like how he’s the best driver in the world or something."

"Well, he does have a knack for that," you said, leaning against the wall, enjoying the banter. "But let’s be honest, you two are like an old married couple. Always bickering but secretly caring for each other."

Max rolled his eyes dramatically. "Please, I’m not ready for that kind of commitment. I can barely handle my own sleeping schedule!"

Max shrugged, a hint of humility creeping into his demeanor. "But honestly, having you around makes it easier. You bring a different energy to the team."

You felt a warmth spread through you at his words. "Thanks, Max. That means a lot coming from you. I think we balance each other out pretty well."

He nodded, his expression thoughtful. "Yeah, it’s like we have this unspoken understanding. You know when to push me and when to let me breathe. It’s refreshing."

"Exactly! And it’s not just about racing; it’s about the camaraderie we build off the track too. Those late-night strategy sessions and the random moments of laughter—they all add up."

Max chuckled, recalling a particularly ridiculous moment from a previous race weekend. "Remember that time we got lost trying to find the catering tent? We ended up in that random fan zone instead!"

You burst out laughing, the memory flooding back. "Oh my god, yes! And those fans were so excited to see us, they thought we were there for a meet-and-greet! We ended up taking selfies with them for an hour."

"Right? And then we finally found the catering tent, only to discover they were out of your favorite pasta!" Max added, shaking his head in disbelief.

"That was a tragedy," you said, feigning a dramatic sigh. "But it turned into one of the best days. I wouldn’t trade those moments for anything."

Max’s gaze softened as he looked at you, a genuine smile breaking through. "Me neither. It’s those little things that make all the hard work worth it."

You both stood in comfortable silence for a moment, the camaraderie between you palpable. The atmosphere around the paddock buzzed with activity, but in that moment, it felt like you were in your own little world.

"Alright, enough of the mushy stuff," Max said, breaking the moment with a playful nudge. "Let’s get back to business. We’ve got a race to prepare for, and I can’t let you steal all my glory."

You laughed, shaking your head. "Oh, please! You know I’m just here to make you look good. Besides, I wouldn’t dream of overshadowing the reigning champion."

What you two didn't know was that the cameras didn't stop but recorded your little moment, which went viral in the few minutes that it was posted. . . . .

★・・・・・・★ ★・・・・・・★ ★・・・・・・★

★・・・・・・★ ★・・・・・・★ ★・・・・・・★

You knew that the public would start shipping you and Max together sooner or later but you weren't bothered with it.

You had a boyfriend who you cared for deeply, someone who had been your rock through the ups and downs of your racing career. Yet, his reaction to the swirling rumors about you and Max took you by surprise.

You never imagined he would be so affected by the gossip that seemed to spread like wildfire through the paddock and beyond.

Here you were, caught in a web of emotions, torn between the thrill of a new chapter and the loyalty you felt towards your current relationship.

As you stepped through the door of your home, the familiar scent of your shared space enveloped you, but it did little to ease the tension that hung in the air.

You found Jake lounging on the couch, his eyes glued to his phone, the glow of the screen illuminating his furrowed brow. The atmosphere was thick with unspoken words, and you could sense that something was off.

“Hey, babe,” you greeted him, trying to sound cheerful despite the weight on your shoulders. He barely looked up, his fingers scrolling furiously, as if searching for answers in the digital chaos.

“Did you hear about you and Max?” he finally snapped, his voice laced with irritation, cutting through the silence like a knife. “It’s all over social media. Are you really going to let this get to you?”

You felt your heart sink; you had hoped for a different reaction, one that would reassure you that your relationship was strong enough to withstand the storm of rumors.

“Come on, it’s just rumors,” you replied, trying to keep your voice steady, though the tremor in it betrayed your inner turmoil. “You know I’m committed to only you.”

You watched as he shot you a skeptical glance, his jealousy bubbling to the surface like a volcano ready to erupt. “Yeah, but how can I trust you when you’re out there with him all the time? It’s not just a coincidence that everyone is talking about it.”

The words stung, and you took a deep breath. "Babe I love only you-"

"Please, don’t even think about it! You know I’m stuck here because if I walked away, your fans would make my life a living nightmare," Jake exclaimed, his voice laced with frustration.

The words hit you like a punch to the gut, leaving you reeling from the harsh reality of your situation.

It was as if he had taken a knife and twisted it, exposing the raw vulnerability you had tried so hard to hide.

You could feel the sting of tears welling up in your eyes, but you fought to keep them at bay. "I didn’t ask for any of this," you replied, your voice trembling slightly.

The weight of his words hung heavily in the air, and you could sense the tension between you growing thicker by the second. It was a battle of emotions, and you were losing ground.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "I know it’s not fair, but you have to understand the pressure I’m under. It’s not just about us; it’s about my career, my fans. I can’t let them down."

His eyes softened for a moment, revealing a glimpse of the man you fell in love with.

"But I don’t want to lose you. Can’t we find a way to make this work?" You pleaded.

"I don't know," he muttered, not lifting his eyes from his phone before standing up and walking past you to get his coat and shoes. "i'm gonna take a walk,"

This has been a pattern for weeks now. You would come home, he would start an argument then make up an excuse to leave the house, leaving you to either pick up his mess or go to sleep without your partner. To only wake up with him cuddling you in the morning and apologise for his action last night.

You were getting sick of it but you still love him too much to break up with him. . . .

The days that followed were a blur of introspection and emotional turmoil. Each time you caught a glimpse of Jake’s name on your phone, a knot formed in your stomach.

You had always been the type to see the good in people, to believe that love could conquer all, but the reality of your situation was becoming harder to ignore.

The moments of tenderness were overshadowed by the growing unease that settled in your chest like a heavy stone.

You spent more time with Sarah, who seemed to sense your internal struggle. She filled your days with laughter and distraction, taking you out for coffee, long walks in the park, and movie marathons that kept your mind off the impending decision.

Yet, no matter how much you tried to push it aside, the thought of Jake lingered like a shadow, reminding you of the grip he had on your heart—and not in a way that felt safe or loving.

One evening, as you and Sarah sat on the balcony watching the sunset, the sky painted in hues of orange and pink, she turned to you again.

"Y/N, I know it’s hard, but you have to prioritize your happiness. You can’t keep living in this limbo," she said, her voice steady and unwavering.

You looked out at the horizon, the beauty of the moment contrasting sharply with the turmoil inside you.

"I know," you replied, your voice thick with emotion. "But what if I’m wrong? What if he really can change?"

The fear of making the wrong choice loomed large, a specter that haunted your thoughts.

"Change is possible, but it has to come from him, not from you hoping for it," Sarah said gently. "You can’t be the one to fix him. You’re not responsible for his happiness or his growth. You deserve to be with someone who respects you and makes you feel safe."

Her words struck a chord deep within you. You thought back to the last time he had gripped your arm, the way his eyes had darkened, and how you had brushed it off as a moment of frustration.

But now, in the light of day, you could see it for what it was—a warning sign that you had been too afraid to acknowledge.

That night, as you lay in bed, the silence of your room felt deafening. You replayed every moment of your relationship, the good and the bad, and slowly, the scales began to tip.

The holiday seemed to fly by in the blink of an eye, and soon you found yourself stepping into the paddock alongside Sarah and Jake.

As you walked, you could feel the tension in the air; Jake wore a strained smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes, gripping your hand a little too tightly.

“Hey, look at all the fans!” you exclaimed, trying to lighten the mood as you waved enthusiastically at the crowd, signing autographs for those who called out your name.

Sarah, taking a break from her hectic job, had decided to join you, her laughter ringing out like music amidst the bustling atmosphere.

“Isn’t this amazing?” you said, glancing at Sarah, who was snapping pictures with her phone. “I can’t believe how many people came out today!”

She nodded, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “It’s like a mini-celebration! But where’s your boyfriend? He seems a bit off today.”

You shrugged, trying to brush off the concern. “I don’t know, maybe he’s just tired. We haven’t really talked much since we got back.”

You stole a glance at him, who was still smiling, but it felt forced, like he was putting on a show for everyone around.

You made the decision to invite Jake into your driver’s room for a heart-to-heart conversation. As you settled into the familiar space, you turned to him with a gentle concern.

“Hey, are you doing okay?” you asked, your voice soft and inviting.

Jake looked at you, his expression a mix of regret and longing, as he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you closer. “I’m alright, really. I’m sorry for how I’ve been acting lately,” he replied, his tone sincere.

In that moment, you felt a rush of warmth; you had missed the comfort of his touch more than you realized.

“Jake, I need to let you know that I have to leave soon,” you murmured, trying to keep the conversation grounded. But he seemed lost in his own thoughts, his gaze intense and filled with desire.

“Why don’t you just quit your job already? I can take care of you, I promise,” he suggested, his voice dripping with temptation.

The idea hung in the air between you, and for a fleeting moment, you felt the pull of his offer.

It was tempting, but the passion you had for Formula 1 was a flame that burned too brightly to extinguish for anyone, even someone as captivating as Jake.

You took a deep breath, weighing your options. “Jake, you know how much this means to me. Formula 1 isn’t just a job; it’s my dream,” you replied, your heart heavy with the conflict.

He stepped back slightly, his expression shifting from desire to disappointment. “I get it, but can’t you see how much I care about you? I want us to be together, and I thought you felt the same way,” he said, frustration creeping into his voice.

You could see the struggle in his eyes, and it pained you to know that your passion for racing was creating a rift between you.

“I do care about you, but I can’t just walk away from everything I’ve worked for,” you insisted, hoping he would understand.

As you stand there, the tension weighs heavily in the air, palpable and thick, as Jake's frustration spills over, his voice tinged with a mix of hurt and desperation.

"But what about me?" he asks, his eyes searching yours for an answer that you know is difficult to provide. "Since you started this job, we haven’t done anything together. All you've been doing is hanging out with that Max boy. Don’t you see it?"

His words cut through the silence, piercing the surface of your mind and forcing you to confront the tangled web of your life that feels all too overwhelming at this moment.

As you gather your thoughts, aware that the job has transformed your priorities and the once-familiar relationship with Jake has shifted, you attempt to articulate your feelings, to bridge the widening chasm of misunderstanding.

"Jake—" you start, your voice tremulous, hoping to weave a delicate thread of connection that can pull you both back to a place of understanding, but he interjects, the intensity of his emotions propelling him forward before you can offer your perspective.

"I’ll show you—don't worry," he mutters, the frustration lacing his tone beginning to dissipate as he suddenly wraps his arms around you, pulling you close in a gesture that is both protective and possessive.

The warmth of his body against yours sends a shiver down your spine, a reminder of the bond you once cherished.

Feeling the urgency of the moment, his lips find yours, a kiss that ignites a flicker of hope amid the turmoil of doubt and fear swirling around you. . . .

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After the holiday break, you had started to act differently, almost as if a shadow had fallen over their usual camaraderie.

Whenever he approached to nudge her shoulder playfully, she would flinch, a look of surprise crossing her face as if she were bracing for something unpleasant.

It was a stark contrast to the easygoing banter they once shared, and he couldn't help but notice how she had become more withdrawn, often lost in her thoughts, her laughter replaced by a distant gaze.

He believed you were feeling down because the team was struggling to achieve the results they had hoped for.

Typically, his father would reach out to him after a disappointing race, sometimes even resorting to physical punishment if the outcome was particularly disheartening.

It was a routine he had come to accept, thinking it was a common experience shared by many.

However, everything changed when his therapist pointed out that not everyone endured such treatment, which sparked a rebellion within him against his father's harsh ways.

"Why do you always have to be so hard on me?" he had shouted one evening, frustration boiling over.

His father, taken aback, responded with a stern look, "Because I want you to be the best, Max. You need to learn that life isn’t always fair."

But Max felt differently; he wanted to be supported, not punished.

As he pondered your situation, he couldn't help but wonder if you had faced similar challenges.

"Do you have someone in your life who treats you badly?" he asked cautiously, trying to gauge your response.

Your eyes widened at the sudden question before you shook your head, a small smile breaking through the clouds of doubt.

"No, not like that. Everyone is really supportive of me these days."

Max felt a wave of relief wash over him, grateful that you had not been in that cycle of abuse he had been so familiar with.

In many of the recent races, both you and Max found yourselves finishing in the P2 to P4 range, or sometimes not making it to the podium at all, which left the team feeling quite disheartened.

The once-promising season had turned into a series of missed opportunities, and the weight of expectations began to take its toll on everyone involved.

The atmosphere in the garage was thick with tension, and the engineers were working overtime to analyze data and strategize for the next race, but the results were still falling short of what the team had hoped for.

This situation also prompted Max's father, Jos, to plan a visit during the race weekend. He intended to check in on his son and perhaps give him a much-needed reality check, quite literally.

As the race day approached, Jos observed his son engaging in cheerful conversation with you, rather than focusing on the engineers to gather crucial insights, a routine Max typically adhered to before a race.

This deviation from his usual pre-race preparation did not sit well with Jos.

He had always believed that the hours leading up to a race were critical for mental conditioning and strategy formulation. To see Max laughing and joking instead of poring over telemetry data or discussing race strategies with the engineers was concerning for him.

Jos's frustration grew as he watched the interaction unfold. He believed that your presence was a distraction, pulling Max away from the intense focus required for peak performance.

In his eyes, the bond you shared with his son was undermining Max's potential to excel on the track.

He felt that friendships weren't important and they should not come at the expense of Max's dedication to his craft.

Jos was determined to address this issue head-on, convinced that a serious conversation was necessary to realign Max's priorities. . . . .

In the midst of a lively discussion filled with laughter and camaraderie, Jos abruptly interjected, "Max, I need to talk to you right now."

His tone cut through the jovial atmosphere, drawing the attention of both you and his son. The laughter faded, replaced by a sudden stillness as everyone turned to witness the unfolding scene.

Max's expression shifted from joy to disappointment as he glanced at you, yet he managed to offer a reassuring smile before reluctantly following his father away from the group.

"Yes, Father?" Max responded in Dutch, his voice tinged with curiosity and a hint of apprehension. The way he spoke suggested a mix of respect and wariness, as if he were bracing himself for a conversation he knew would be anything but easy.

Jos wasted no time in launching into his concerns, his words spilling out with a sense of urgency.

"You must distance yourself from that girl; she is a distraction that will hinder your performance in the race," he asserted, his tone firm and authoritative, as if he were delivering a decree rather than a request.

The weight of his words hung heavily in the air, a stark contrast to the lightheartedness that had just moments ago enveloped the gathering.

Max, however, was quick to defend you, his loyalty evident in the way he stood a little taller, his brow furrowing in determination. "No, she doesn't distract me, Father. She's my teammate," he stated, his voice steady and resolute.

The conviction in his tone reflected a bond that transcended mere friendship; it was a partnership built on shared goals and mutual respect.

Yet, as he spoke, the tension between father and son thickened, a palpable clash of wills that seemed to reverberate through the quiet space around them.

Jos, sensing the resistance in Max's voice, shifted his approach, employing subtle manipulation to sway his son’s perspective.

"Think about your future, Max. You have so much potential, and I only want what is best for you," he continued, his voice softening slightly, as if trying to appeal to Max's aspirations.

The words were carefully chosen, designed to instill doubt about your influence, to paint you as an obstacle rather than an ally.

Max hesitated, caught between his father's expectations and his own feelings.

The internal struggle was evident on his face, a flicker of uncertainty crossing his features as he grappled with the conflicting loyalties that tugged at his heart.

"It is evident in your results over the weeks, you've been falling off the high scores recently, hardly been able to reach third place because of that girl!" Jos stressed out and Max became quiet, letting those words sink in.

"Max, think about it," Jos continued, his tone shifting to one of persuasion. "You need to focus on your game and not let distractions get in the way. She's not worth it."

Max felt a mix of emotions swirling inside him. He had always admired his father's wisdom, but now he sensed a subtle manipulation at play. Jos was trying to steer him away from his feelings, and deep down, Max knew it.

Yet, the idea of disappointing his father loomed larger than his own desires.

"Okay, Father," Max finally replied, his voice barely above a whisper.

He felt a pang of regret as he agreed, but he couldn't shake the feeling that he was losing a part of himself in the process. As he walked away, he contemplated the choices ahead of him.

Was it worth sacrificing his happiness for the sake of competition?

As he walked away, the sound of his father's footsteps fading behind him, he contemplated the choices ahead of him.

The internal struggle was just beginning, and Max knew he had to find a way to balance his passion for the game with the complexities of his heart.

He thought of you—the woman who had sparked something within him, a light that had ignited a warmth he hadn't been able to feel like Daniel left.

After he began to distance himself from you, he noticed a change in your demeanor.

You seemed more withdrawn, putting on a facade of happiness with a constant smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes. You were hiding behind long-sleeved coats, even in the warm weather, creating a barrier between yourself and the world around you.

The vibrant laughter that once filled the air when you were together had been replaced by a silence that hung heavily between you, punctuated only by the occasional forced chuckle or polite nod.

Max could see the way your shoulders slumped slightly, as if the weight of unspoken words and unshared feelings was pressing down on you.

Your eyes, once bright with enthusiasm and mischief, now seemed clouded, reflecting a deep-seated sadness that you tried so hard to conceal.

He remembered the long pointless conversations, the dreams you both had shared, and the plans that now felt like distant memories. It pained him to witness your struggle, yet he felt powerless to bridge the growing chasm between you.

Despite the guilt that gnawed at him, Max couldn’t help but recognize a shift in his own performance on the racetrack.

He found himself consistently finishing on the podium, a stark contrast to your struggles as you remained trapped within the top ten.

Each trophy he lifted felt heavier than the last, a reminder of the friendship that had once fueled his passion for racing.

He could hear the cheers of the crowd, feel the adrenaline coursing through his veins, but all he could think about was how you used to be there, celebrating alongside him, your face alight with pride and joy.

While he celebrated his achievements, he couldn’t shake the feeling that something important was missing.

The camaraderie they once shared seemed to slip further away with each passing race, leaving him to wonder if the price of success was worth the cost of their connection.

He often found himself glancing over at the empty spot in the pit where you used to stand, your eyes sparkling with encouragement, your voice ringing out with advice that had always kept him grounded.

As the races continued, Max felt a growing urgency to reach out, to break through the walls you had built around yourself.

But his father kept him grounded and not letting that thought come to life anytime soon. . . .

As you maneuver through the winding turns of the racetrack, adrenaline surges through your veins, a heady blend of focus and exhilaration.

"Joseph, what's the gap to Max?" you inquire, your voice steady despite the chaos enveloping you as you glance at the rearview mirror, noticing Charles's fierce pursuit as he falls into your peripheral vision, momentarily eclipsed by your recent strategic overtaking maneuver.

"2.3 seconds in front of you, Y/N," Joseph replies, his tone equally crisp yet slightly strained, hinting at the intensity of the moment.

The hum of the engine, the vibrations of the car, and the distant roar of the crowd blend into a symphony of speed, and as you negotiate the track, your mind sharpens with determination.

You consider your next move with meticulous care, knowing that a split-second decision could alter the course of the race.

Holding tightly to the steering wheel, you then ask, “Do I have permission to take over?”

Pause hangs in the air like a fragile breath, and you can almost anticipate Joseph's reply, especially given the longstanding tradition wherein hesitance often blankets these life-altering decisions.

Sure enough, after a fleeting silence, you prepare for the inevitable response that would echo in your ears like an unwelcome refrain, one you were all too familiar with.

But just as you brace yourself for a “no,” the radio crackles to life again—this time with a tidal wave of unexpected urgency.

"Yes! Y/N? Can you hear me? The team has approved the overtake of Max! Go for it!" Joseph’s voice bursts through with a burst of energy, jolting you from your reverie.

Instinctively, your foot plunges onto the accelerator as you channel every ounce of skill, focus, and ambition into propelling yourself forward.

You swiftly navigate the corner, your car gliding through the air like a bird released from captivity, and in that moment of pure adrenaline, you find yourself eclipsing Max, reclaiming the lead with undeniable ferocity.

As you settle into your newfound position at first place, the tension morphs into an exhilarating electrification coursing through your body.

Max, having momentarily lost his grip on the lead, now battles to fend off Charles and Lando from making any hazardous moves that might threaten your dominion at the front.

In the heat of the moment, the radio blaring with strategic updates fades into the background as your vision narrows solely on the track ahead—you are a race car driver, a gladiator in this battle of speed, and nothing else matters.

The world dissolves into monochrome, your focus unwavering as you grip the wheel like it’s a lifeline.

Distant cheers from the crowd seep through your concentration, yet you silence those voices, drowning out distractions as you become acutely aware of the weight of the race, the dreams that hang delicately in the balance—everything is at stake.

You feel sweat trickling down your temple and a syrupy mix of anticipation and fear soaring through your chest, but as you approach the final laps, triumph struggles to emerge from the depths of your hardwork.

Amidst the exhilarating distractions, your attention sharpens when you catch a faint echo of Joseph’s voice cutting through the chatter. "Y/N! You did it! You won!"

The joyous eruption on the other end floods your senses with disbelief, a tidal wave of emotions crashing over you.

In that electrifying moment, as you maintain your grip on the wheel for the last few seconds, reality begins to wash over you like an exhilarating wave, and the tears you could feel brewing now threaten to spill, your triumph intertwining with your vulnerability.

With the checkered flag waving triumphantly in the air, you ease down on the accelerator, the sensation of victory swelling inside you as you let a muffled cry of delight escape your lips.

You slow your car and finally breathe, releasing all the pent-up energy, as the realization of your success resonates in every fiber of your being.

"You did it, Y/N! You won the grand prix!" Joseph's voice dances through the radio, resonating with an infectious glee.

A burst of laughter escapes your lips, and for the first time, the roar of the crowd—a melodic blend of cheers—warms your heart.

As you roll to a stop, the world around you crescendos into a celebration of your harrowing journey—each twist, each turn, each heartbeat racing in sync with the rhythm of victory.

The moment is surreal, and as you step out of the car, you are not just a racer anymore; you are a triumphant force that turned dreams into reality, and no title could encapsulate the pride swelling within you.

You parked the car in front of the first-place stand, your heart racing as the adrenaline coursed through your veins. Stepping out of the vehicle, you took a moment to absorb the victory that had just unfolded; it was surreal, almost like a scene plucked from your wildest dreams.

You stood on the hood of your car, exhilaration bubbling up inside you as you raised your fists in triumph, thrusting them into the air with a euphoric fist bump that echoed your unrestrained joy.

The cheers of the crowd swirled around you, a chorus of celebration, and for a heartbeat, the entire world felt like it paused in honour of your hard-fought achievement.

The weight of every early morning, every late night, every moment spent honing your driving in the shadows now seemed beautifully light, overshadowed by the sheer thrill of the moment.

As you jumped off the car with a renewed sense of vitality, you sprinted toward your team, their faces lit up with genuine happiness.

It marked a pivotal moment, one where they no longer treated you as fragile or merely a woman in a male-dominated sport; instead, they embraced you like a teammate, a winner.

You felt the warmth of their hugs wrapping around you, their joy infectious in a way that washed away any lingering doubts you had ever held about your place in this fierce and demanding environment.

“I can’t believe we did it!” you exclaimed, looking around at their beaming faces, heart swelling.

Some laughing tears glistening in their eyes, as they crowded around you, lifting you momentarily off your feet, celebrating not only your victory but the growth of a team bound together by perseverance and shared dreams.

Max eventually pulled up in front of the second-place station, his car’s engine rumbling to a soft stop just a few feet away from you. He stepped out, the sunlight catching the edges of his helmet as he removed it, revealing a look of pure delight plastered across his face.

It was a sight that brightened your heart; his genuine smile mirrored your own, a silent acknowledgment of the fierce competition that had just transpired on the track.

You could hardly control the emotions that swelled within you. With an impulsive rush, you charged toward him, unable to contain the joy of your victory.

In a flurry of excitement, you leaped into his arms, a spontaneous act born from the adrenaline still dancing through your body. He caught you effortlessly, his hands cradling your back protectively, and in that moment, the world shrank down to just the two of you.

“I won!" you declared, breathless, your voice a mixture of disbelief and sheer happiness, as if saying it out loud might make the victory feel more real.

A grin split Max's face wider, and you could see the pride sparkling in his eyes. “Yeah, you won! Congratulations!" he echoed, his voice turning melodic with the thrill of your accomplishment.

His embrace tightened around you, and you melted into the moment, filled with a sense of camaraderie and respect that had blossomed between you two over the course of your racing journeys.

As he set you back on your feet, laughter bubbled up once again, infectious and wildly free.

"I hope I didn't catch you off guard with that leap," you admitted, a hint of embarrassment creeping into your voice as you took a sip from your drink.

"Not at all! I’m just thrilled for you," Max replied, his cheeks flushed with excitement as he gave you a friendly pat on the back.

After the interview with the top three winners, you, Max, and Charles settled into the conference room, the atmosphere buzzing with excitement as the race replay flickered on the screen. The tension was palpable as the footage captured the thrilling moments of the competition.

"Wow! That was such a turn!" Charles exclaimed, wiping the sweat from his brow, clearly still feeling the adrenaline from the race.

He was referring to the intense maneuver where he nearly overtook Lando, a moment that had everyone on the edge of their seats.

As the race continued to unfold on the screen, you found yourself lost in thought, your mind racing with the events that had just transpired.

You focused on your breathing, trying to calm the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside you. You had actually won.

Max, sitting beside you, noticed your silence and turned his attention toward you, his eyes filled with concern.

"Hey, are you alright?" he asked softly, breaking the tension in the room. His voice was steady, a comforting presence amidst the chaos of the race replay.

You nodded slowly, appreciating Max's concern but still feeling the weight of the moment. "Yeah, just processing everything," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper.

After the conference wrapped up, the divers were given the freedom to either retreat to their driver’s rooms or celebrate with their teams and families.

However, the atmosphere was tinged with concern. The race winner was notably absent, and everyone had been eagerly anticipating a celebration for your first victory.

But after you dashed out of the conference room in a flurry, you seemed to vanish without a trace.

Everyone, especially Max, who had reached out to congratulate you repeatedly, was waiting, eager for you to join them in the festivities.

Max had noticed your absence almost immediately after the conference ended. The smile that had danced on his lips dimmed when you didn't join the team to celebrate; he frequently glanced toward the driver’s room, a sense of unease gnawing at his gut.

The more he thought about it, the more his concern deepened; it wasn't like you to shy away from such moments of triumph.

As teammates and family began to cheer and revel in the evening's wins, Max made the decision to search for you.

His quest took him to the paddock and then to your garage, but each passing minute only heightened his worries. "Where could you be, Y/N?" he murmured to himself, frustration lacing his voice as he traversed the familiar paths of the circuit, searching desperately for a glimpse of you.

His heart raced with anxiety; he couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong.

Finally, his gaze landed on the door of your driver's room, slightly ajar, like a whisper beckoning him to enter. Without a second thought, he approached and knocked gently, "Y/N, are you in there?"

Listening intently, he leaned closer to the door and was met with faint whimpers that sent a chill down his spine.

Panic surged through him.

This wasn’t just a moment of celebration for you; it felt like a cry for help, echoing through the cold corridor.

Without waiting for a response, he pushed the door open wider, bracing himself for whatever he might find—though nothing could have prepared him for the sight that met his eyes when the door creaked open.

The scene unfolded before him like a nightmare; your so-called boyfriend stood menacingly above you, his hand raised as if poised to strike, while your frail form displayed clear signs of distress—your face bruised, tears streaming down your cheeks, eyes wide with a mixture of fear and disbelief.

Time seemed to freeze for a moment as he took stock of the situation, the cruel contrast of celebration outside and the terrifying reality inside your room.

"What the hell is going on here?" Max's voice cut through the air, laced with fury as he stepped into the room, instinctively placing himself between you and the looming threat.

In that instant, your boyfriend's grip on your collar slackened, surprise washing over his features as he turned to face Max.

“Stay out of this, Max! This has nothing to do with you,” your boyfriend snarled, his bravado faltering under the sudden scrutiny.

But Max remained steadfast, stepping closer, his presence commanding as he glared at the man who had dared to raise a hand against you.

“You’re wrong. It has everything to do with me. Y/N is my friend, and I won’t let you hurt her,” he replied, his voice steady yet filled with palpable tension.

Your eyes met Max's, a flicker of hope igniting amidst despair, and despite everything, the warmth of that friendship washed over you.

Max's voice echoed through the room, a mix of frustration and urgency. "You need to leave now!" he shouted, his eyes locked onto your boyfriend, who stood there with clenched fists and a scowl that could cut glass.

The tension in the air was palpable, thick enough to slice through. Your boyfriend hesitated, his anger simmering just beneath the surface, but something in Max's tone made him reconsider.

"Fine," he finally muttered, his voice low and filled with resentment. "I’ll go, but this isn’t over."

With that, he stormed out, slamming the door behind him, leaving you and Max in a heavy silence.

“Max, please…” you managed to choke out, your voice hoarse as the fear and pain slowly ebbed. “I just…I just wanted to celebrate, but I didn’t know who I could trust. I thought…”

Your voice faltered as the tears resumed their steady flow. Max's gaze softened as he turned back to you, the protective barrier he had formed in front of you embodying more than just physical defense.

“You can trust me, Y/N,” he said firmly, his expression shifting to one of concern.

With Max's unwavering support behind you, the resolve within you began to build.

“Thank you,” you whispered, your voice trembling, but a hint of strength colored your tone.

[camilledlc]

I think the fact that Careless Whisper is Vanessa and Wade's songs and Iris is Logan and Wade's is very poetic and holds a lot of meaning. Let me explain:

Careless Whisper is all about a relationship ending, the longing for this person you won't ever have again and full of regrets. It's a song about a love that will never come back ("sad good-byes", "now that you're gone", etc). I also think the song deeply explains their relationship (Vanessa/Wade) in general.

Wade is feeling very insecure about his relationship in general, knowing that he hurts Vanessa (2nd movie), that staying with her is kind of selfish but yet he doesn't want to let her go ("I feel so unsure", "there's no comfort in the truth / pain is all you find", "guilty feet"). Besides, the lyrics : "we'd hurt each other with the things we'd want to say" is very much them when Vanessa breaks up with him in DP3. Realistically, he knows that "it's better this way", because he isn't good enough for her in his mind. He hurts her and he doesn't matter enough. He knows the relationship have to end.

Yet, he is still very much desperate for her love, and can't seem to let her go, like seen in the 3rd movie. He wants her back ("Please stay", "Was what I did so wrong, so wrong / That you had to leave me alone?"), because he feels as if she's his one true love. No one has ever had him like this (shameless So High School reference). She felt like his soulmate, and losing her is losing this kind of love that you only find once in your life, it's like losing his soulmate. That's why he's "never gonna dance again / The way [he] danced with [her]". And the song adds "Never without your love", and I think it really represents his vision. He can't love again, and entirely be himself again if it isn't for/with Vanessa's love. She was the good thing in him, his one true love, and now he's wondering if he's ever gonna be able to have a love like this again ("But now, who's gonna dance with me?").

Now, Deadpool and Wolverine introduces Logan in the mix, and one of the main song in the movie is Iris. I think it represents perfectly Wade's state of mind during the movie, and his relationship with Logan. I do believe it's to be taken more from Logan's perspective, but the general theme of it is the same.

This song is a love song, yet very melancholic and tainted with sadness. It is very repetitive, and the singer already seems to know how things will play out. I think it puts us in the mindset of Wade, who had a previous relationship that seemed doomed because it would never work with who he is as a person and as a hero. He realizes that, and that a relationship with him can't last ("When everything's made to be broken", "And sooner or later, it's over"). Besides, a lots of other lyrics feels like they could refer to him feeling generally insecure about himself and who he is. He is aware that he is not necessarily a good person, he often lies to mask the truth about his feelings ("the moment of truth in your lies"). He is prompt to annoy, and attack, and doesn't mind being attacked back. He always puts himself in danger, and I think that the lyrics "you bleed just to know, you're alive" could explain why very well. And funnily enough, just before the song says : "When everything feels like the movies" and we all know that Wade knows he's in one.

So I think that we have a Wade that is deeply insecure about himself cause he knows he isn't necessarily a good person, he endangers himself and others constantly, and he can't be too surrounded by loved ones because he's gonna hurt them or put them in danger by his existence alone. He can't love and hold onto love. Yet, he wants someone to truly know who he is and to appreciate him for him ("I just want you to know who I am"). He is willing to be known by Logan during the movie, opening up to him. He always hides behind a mask, and symbolically, it's a way to keep people out. In the comics, it is even said that his scars causes him to often be left out of public spaces ; and in the first movie, he refused to go back to his girlfriend because of them, shutting her out too. Its like the lyrics : "And I don't want the world to see me / 'Cause I don't think that they'd understand", which can be read both literally because of his scars and metaphorically because of his personality, his tendencies to be 'weird' and 'annoying' as he talks and talks and breaks the fourth wall. Yet, he shows his face without a mask to Logan during the important moments, and he also shows him his true self. He wants Logan to know who he really is.

So, despite being broken down and knowing how and why his previous relationship ended, thinking that this one will have the same fate, Wade just wants to be known and seen by Logan, to be loved for who he is.

And I think Logan do, and he very much relate to the first part of the song. From his reality, he betrayed everyone he loved. He has no real home to back to, nothing to live for. This is why he is willing to give up everything to let Wade alive ("And I'd give up forever to touch you"). He wants to sacrifice himself not only because it's what hero do, but also because Wade doesn't deserve to die. Wade is the one who made him proud to wear this suit again, like shown in his flashbacks at the end ("You're the closest to heaven that I'll ever be"). Then, they both go to save the world together, and they look in each other's eyes like nothing else exist ("And all I can taste is this moment / And all I can breathe is your life"). After years of being plagued by the voices of his friends, in this moment, he can't hear them anymore because all that exist is Wade and him saving the world, and his memories of Wade giving him a life again. He genuinely appreciates Wade for who he is and what is done, even staying with Wade in his universe and in his home ("And I don't wanna go home right now", "I just don't wanna miss you tonight").

In conclusion, Careless Whisper represents Wade's love for Vanessa, and how despite them having to break up, he never thought he could love someone else again. Yet, with Iris, we know that Wade is still insecure and unsure about it all, but is willing to open up for love again, to be loved by Logan.

(And last detail because i really wanted to include it but it was already very long, I like how the sentence "And you can't fight the tears that ain't coming" reflects how Wade was never really letting himself live truthfully. He never completely acknowledged his own emotions, and so he was spiralling and battling within himself but never could get out of this as long as he wasn't truthful about his feelings towards his need to matter. But in the end, eventually, he realizes that he matters, and there are no more tears to fight).

[falafelluva]

; 𝐅𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐄 - 𝐤. 𝐲𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐢𝐳 ✮

summary: Kenan and you are in a situationship but his constant excuses and lack of communication leave you feeling ignored and unimportant.

warnings: male behavior😰😰?!?!?

side note: my eyes are burning so bad, it’s like almost 6 am- this is saur short and not proofread+ my first fic thing in over 14 months, scuse mi🤗. (Sorry for the repost chat😔)

The sun had just dipped beneath the horizon, casting a warm glow across the city. You were sprawled on your bed, phone in hand, scrolling through your Instagram feed.

A mix of frustration and confusion churned inside you, the same feelings you’d been carrying for weeks now when it came to Kenan.

Things between you had been good, at least in the beginning. He was charming, thoughtful in the small moments, but recently, the distance felt wider, his attention divided by the game he loved.

Football.

He always said he was busy, always had something to do, always left you on 'delivered' for hours—sometimes even days.

You understood his dream; he was one of the brightest stars of his generation, after all. But understanding didn’t make it any easier.

You opened his Instagram account, staring at his latest post. Another photo in his jersey, looking focused as always. He hadn’t messaged you back since yesterday.

It was the same old cycle—waiting for a reply that might not come, slowly losing patience. Slowly losing interest.

But not quite.

The spark wasn’t completely gone yet, which was why you found yourself taking a calculated risk. You scrolled to your own story and hit “add to story.”

A selfie, carefully posed, just enough to catch his attention. Maybe this time, he’d react. Maybe this time, things would be different.

Minutes passed, then your phone buzzed.

kenanyildiz_official✔️ replied to your story: 😍

You stared at the notification, unsure of what to feel. A small smile tugged at your lips, but it was tinged with a bittersweet edge. His response was always the same—minimal effort.

He’d send an emoji, maybe a comment if you were lucky, but rarely more. It was like he was giving you just enough to keep you hanging on.

You opened the message, typing a quick, casual response, but a part of you already knew how this would go. He'd drop a couple more words and then disappear again—and the cycle would continue.

A while later, you heard the familiar buzz of the notification with his name popping up again.

“u look good as always”

There it was, a simple compliment. You should’ve felt something, a flutter, excitement, but instead, it felt hollow.

“Thanks, u know u could reply more often, right?🤗”

You didn’t expect an immediate answer, but when another long pause stretched into minutes, the same old frustration bubbled up again. Kenan was always like this—his mind somewhere else, his priorities elsewhere. Football was his life, and you were starting to feel like an afterthought.

Finally, your phone lit up.

“I’m sorry”

“I’ve been busy with football”

“I’ve been training yk? I don’t mean to ignore u”

You sighed. You’d heard it before. He always had an excuse. And maybe it wasn’t even an excuse. Maybe it was true. But it still hurt.

Kenan always seemed to catch you at the wrong time, making promises that this time would be different. That he'd make more of an effort. But the promises never really stuck.

You weren’t sure how much longer you could deal with the constant push and pull, the waiting, the wondering if he really cared as much as he claimed.

He claimed to care, but actions spoke louder than words, and lately, his actions told a different story. You were slowly pulling away, and you knew it. That once bright spark of excitement whenever he messaged was fading, flatlining.

Your phone buzzed again, breaking you out of your thoughts.

“I promise I’ll make it up to u oké?”

“Next time we’re both free, let’s hang out güzel.”

You stared at the message, your thumb hovering over the keyboard. Your eyes lingering on the last word— Güzel.

The nickname lures you back into your thoughts, you wanted to hold onto the good moments, the times when he actually showed up for you. But deep down, you were starting to realize that maybe— it wasn’t enough anymore.

Your thumb hovers over the keyboard, typing out a quick reply.

“We’ll see”

Your message was short, noncommittal, a reflection of the distance that had grown between you two. You hit send, then locked your phone, letting it fall onto your bed.

You wanted Kenan, but not like this. Not with the uncertainty, not with the constant feeling of being second to everything else in his life. You weren’t sure if you were ready to walk away, but you couldn’t ignore the feeling inside you anymore—There was a brief pause before your phone buzzed again.

“Please? I got this weekend off.”

“Let’s meet up and talk about this.”

You felt a flicker of hope but you tempered it with caution. It was easy to get swept up in the excitement, but you had learned that promises didn’t always lead to action.

“Sure, when and where?”

You hit send, and for the first time in weeks, a small smile crept onto your face. Maybe this time would be different. Maybe this weekend would finally give you both a chance to reconnect, to clear the air that had grown thick with unspoken words.

;;

The day of your planned hangout, you spent hours getting ready, carefully picking out your outfit. You were determined to look your best, to show him that you were still worth his time.

As the clock ticked closer to your meeting time, you glanced at your phone, your heart racing—no message from him yet.

You arrived at the café first, nerves fluttering in your stomach. It was a popular spot, filled with chatter and laughter, but you felt out of place as you sat alone at a table, fiddling with your phone before noticing the time.

16:12

Kenan was 12 minutes late, which wasn’t new, he always seemed to be late when it came to you.

A few minutes later, you saw him striding through the door, his eyes scanning the room until they landed on you. Your heart skipped a beat as he walked over, a grin spreading across his face.

“Sorry I’m late,” he said, taking a seat across from you. “Got caught up with some last-minute training.”

You forced a smile, trying to ignore the familiar wave of disappointment. “No worries. I was just enjoying the view.”

He leaned forward, his expression earnest. “You look really good, by the way.”

“Thanks,” you replied, your voice softening slightly. Maybe you could give him a chance?

As you chatted over coffee, the initial awkwardness began to fade. Kenan told stories about his training, his ambitions, and for a moment, it felt like the old days—the carefree times when everything was simple and uncomplicated.

But as the conversation flowed, a part of you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was still off.

He was present but not entirely there. It felt like a performance, and you were left wondering whether he was truly engaged or just playing the part.

Halfway through your coffee, he pulled out his phone to check something. You watched him, your stomach tightening.

“Sorry, just checking a message from the team,” he said, glancing up with a sheepish grin.

You nodded, forcing a smile, but your heart sank a little more. This was the pattern—he was here, but not really with you.

“Do you remember that time we went to the beach?” Kenan asked, completely switching the subject, a nostalgic smile on his face.

“Yeah- that was fun,” you replied, recalling the day filled with laughter and sunshine.

“I miss those days. I feel like I’m always on the go now,” he said, a hint of frustration creeping into his voice.

“Yeah, me too. It feels like I’m always waiting around for you to have time,” you replied, a bit more honesty slipping into your words than you intended.

Kenan’s expression faltered for a moment, and he looked away, his gaze drifting past you—feeling guilty.

“I know, and I’m really sorry. I’m just trying to focus on my career right now.”

His words stung. You wanted to support his dreams, but you also wanted to be a part of his life, not just an afterthought.

“I get that, but… I don’t want to be a backup plan either.”

Kenan met your gaze, his eyes serious.

“You’re not. I promise. I’m just trying to figure things out.”

As you looked into his eyes, searching for sincerity, you realized that you were at a crossroads. You could continue down this path of uncertainty or confront the reality of your feelings.

“Maybe we need to figure things out too,” you said softly, a hint of vulnerability in your voice.

Kenan’s expression shifted, and for a moment, the playful banter faded. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, I don’t want to keep waiting around, hoping you’ll change,” you admitted, your heart racing. “I want to be with someone who makes time for me, who chooses to be with me, not just when it’s convenient.”

He opened his mouth to respond but paused, as if weighing his words carefully. “I don’t want to lose you. I care about you, I really do. It’s just... things are complicated right now.”

“Complicated doesn’t mean impossible,” you replied, your voice steady. “I need to know where we stand. If you want this, we need to make an effort.”

Silence hung between you, thick with unspoken words. Finally, Kenan nodded, a flicker of determination in his eyes.

“I know I told you last time was the last time, but I promise to be better and do better for you.”

The honesty in his voice hit you hard, and for a moment, you were both silent, letting the weight of your feelings hang in the air.

“Can we try?” he finally asked, looking at you earnestly.

“I promise to make more of an effort. Just give me a chance.” Kenan reached for your delicate hand, and for the first time in weeks, you felt that familiar spark reignite, even if just a little. It wasn’t a guarantee, but it was a start.

“Okay,” you said softly, heart pounding.

“Let’s try.”

[munchy-k]

danmei list that no one asked for (long post incoming)

ok so I've accumulated a pretty decent list of danmei that aren't as well known and I want to talk about them!! so here we go! these aren't in any particular order btw

Nan Chan

an aloof, listless immortal and a very hungry caterpillar fish demon go on an adventure to retrieve a runaway bell 🔔. and also they both have amnesia. CUE ANGSTY BACKSTORY REVEAL!!!! 🔪🔪🔪

I'm sure it's to no ones surprise that this is first because I'm a SLUT for nan chan. if nan chan has one fan it is ME and if there r no fans I am DEAD!! I love this novel so much it has the perfect combination of painful angst and sweet sweet lovin' !! the main couple's relationship makes me feel so warm and fuzzy inside 🥺👉👈 (probably because I am a touch love language girly and these bitches be touching!!!) and I LOVE the characters sm. especially my little meow meow Jing Lin and his adorable little stone figure. I live for the interactions between Cang Ji and the stone figure! it may be a little difficult to read the first time around since the plot gets a little convoluted but it all makes sense in the end! 10/10 really recommend!!

How to Survive as a Villain

transmigration plot! rich ceo gets transported to a novel as the villain emperor and gets buddy buddy with the novel's MC so he doesn't get killed. ends up buddying too close to the sun and accidentally becomes the leading lady. drama ensues!

this is another favorite of mine!! this one is another good mix of angst and romance and the MC is so funny and likeable. there are also two cute side couples which is always fun! (one of them is f/f so it gets extra brownie points with me🤭) its also not too complicated which makes it great for casual reading ^^ p.s. this one has an official eng tl now! its being published thru rosmei (like nanchan) so it has to be ordered thru a 3rd party distributor but I think its worth reading 👀

Living to Suffer/ Till Death Do Us Part

living to suffer: ancient wuxia style prequel where the characters meet as a humble doctor and member of a demonic sect and their fate intertwines. this one has a BE

till death do us part: early to mid 1900s setting sequel. the reincarnated characters meet again as a elementary school teacher and rich playboy and face the struggles of having a relationship. this one has a bittersweet ending

THIS...... OK THESE NOVELS... let me tell you something. this made me SOB. oh my god especially the ending of TDDUP. I saw a review saying "I honestly could believe there lived a Shen Liangsheng and a Ch'in Ching, and that they fell in love..." and hard agree because something about this story felt so real?? which made it all the more intriguing and heartbreaking!! its set around the time of the japanese invasion of china and the cultural revolution so it does talk a lot about politics but it wasn't a difficult read imo. BUT BE WARNED! there is a LOT of smut. (not rly vanilla either..) and the relationship does get pretty toxic at times 😬 but it gets better by the end of the book and the toxicity actually does add to the story and character development. if u give it a try please read the prequel (living to suffer) first!

After Being Forced to Marry the Evil Star General

a deputy prime minister MC who's powerful, high-maintenance, and hated by the public is arranged to marry a laid-back general who is much loved and praised (but also rumored to be cursed!). this is an arranged marriage + enemies to lovers novel

I'm actually in the middle of rereading this one rn 👀. I think this one is also good for casual reading since it isn't very complicated. in the beginning the interactions between the main couple r rly funny because they just clash all day long lol. its also got a little angst sprinkled in 😎👍 I did see some reviews saying that the MC is not likeable since he does some kinda bad things and he's stuck up but I still liked him idk 😭 I feel like his flaws made him more interesting

Married Thrice to Salted Fish

a doctor MC who only wishes to study medicine (and poison oop) gets arranged to marry a guy whos dying. turns out that guy has been taken over by a transmigrator! transmigrator ML then proceeds to die and come back as someone else.. more than once 😭

if you love a couple that schemes together then this is the novel for you! the MC in this book kinda reminds me of the MC from the book I mentioned right above. (these titles too long man 😅) I found the repeated "reincarnation" plot to be pretty interesting. the interactions between the couple were pretty amusing as well and since the ML is from modern times he randomly uses modern slang. MC even picks some lingo up from him loll

Xiao Jiu

about a 9th prince MC whos trying to win the heart of the emperor's cold and aloof bodyguard! call him the prince of rizz because it works eventually 😎 this is an age gap romance with a smidge of angst and political drama

this a short and sweet story! the ML is described as cold a lot but he actually becomes rly sweet and warm later on so he isn't one of those stone faced characters. I don't have much else to say about this besides "its cute, I like it" 😅

Guanshan Muyu

wife-chasing crematorium story! it's about a outlaw MC who's kidnapped by the very guy who betrayed him. ML wants to win MC's heart back but issues from the past cause a bunch of misunderstandings :( but it is a happy ending!!

man.... I haven't read a wife-chasing crematorium story before this and I was not prepared for the amount of ANGST. basically everyone is miserable for the entire damn time! 😭😭😭 but that's not to say it wasn't a good story!! all the suffering made the ending feel even sweeter 🥰 if you cry easily maybe keep a pack of tissues on hand when you read this 😂

I wrote this in my notes app while reading and I feel like it summarizes the ML pretty well bahaha 👇

"qi yan: my girl is mad at me. I hope I die"

It’s Not Easy Being a Master

transmigrator becomes the villainous shizun in a novel he read and attempts to avoid a bad ending but *gasp* the novels MC (ML) has been reborn with all the past memories!! MC tries to get close to ML while ML is like wtf is going on ! seems like a typical "transmigrated as a villain" type plot until suddenly it's not... 👀👀

this one was rly fun! there's a big plot twist that I found rly interesting and unique! very fresh!! fresh produce!! 🥒🫑🥕🍅 I also like the MC a lot he had a rly silly personality hehe. I think this novel is good for people who like solving mysteries alongside the characters since a lot of hints are dropped throughout

Golden Stage/ Terrace

arranged marriage between a court dog and a general who's become phsyically disabled. everyone knows that the two HATE each other... but do they really? 👀 no, it's not an enemies to lovers, but the other characters seem to think so! 🤭

great novel!! very good!! I love the dynamic between the main couple! they love to banter so their interactions are entertaining. there's a bit of political plot but it's nothing too complicated and the angst is minimal. I also like that one of the main characters is a ambulatory wheelchair user. this one also has a official eng tl now but I'm not sure from which publishing house

Sharing Rain and Dew

MC whos staying in the palace dies a painful death but then gets reborn several months in the past. he spends his time stressing about his impending death but for some reason the Emperor has suddenly become super clingy and doting

this one is very very short, only 5 chapters + 3 extras, but it's quite funny and cute. despite being so short the story is actually pretty interesting? good for a quick, casual read

list over!! I have a few more but this is already too long of a post 😭 I hope someone can find this helpful for some reading recs!

[midnightorchids]

Hey babe- I wanted to know how you felt about booknerd!reader x Jason. Because it's been rotting my brain forever now and I need to know what someone as genius as yourself thinks about it. So like- We know Jason is a book girl. He's got huge floor to ceiling shelves in his apartment filled with non-fiction, historical fiction, classics, and maybe a few Si-Fi titles. I feel like he would love Toni Morison, Maya Angelou, Henrik Isben, Margret Atwood, and maybe even Harukai Murakami. He has this beautiful collection of leather bond additions of the Iliad Bruce gave him when he was 16. And when he finally invites you over, he cannot contain his excited smile as you start gushing over his home library. He makes you guys coffee and you spend hours talking about your fav genres, authors, online author drama - and after he's walking back to his apartment after dropping you off, he's smiling down at his phone at the message you sent. 'I had so much fun today! Ur library is so so so cool, was wondering if you would be ok going with me to Chapters next week? Wanted to pick up the new Skyward book' He's kicking his feet and hiding his face in his pillow. So deeply overjoyed that his crush shares in his immense love of literature. After you guys officially get together, he buys you so many fucking books. He fallows your goodreads wishlist religiously and surprises you almost every month with a new addition to your growing collection. He usually collects used paper backs, but for you, he splurges on the hardcover special additions. Of course it's because he loves you but it's also so that, maybe, you'll be more incentivised to move into a different apartment. One with floor-to-ceiling book shelves and a shared bed... just saying.. He branches out into more genres and authors he wouldn't usually read from just so he could talk about your favourite books with you. You do the same - your book collections getting mixed together in the process. Library dates, bookstore dates, used-bookstore dates. Your first couple of dates and realisations of love happened in and around books. You would always leave little messages inside the first page of the books you give him. So that if your every away or he's on a mission and he takes a book with him, he'll have one of your small messages of love as a reminder of something to return home to.

Hi hon!! I’m so sorry for the late response, I’ve been dying with uni and just life in general recently, but I’m back and ready to write again!! But I agree with pretty much everything that you said, like you’ve written it out so well and it’s just so cute! I was literally giggling and kicking my feet at the last one omg. I shall try to add more stuff!!

Jason’s go to present for his loved ones is annotated copies of his favourite books. He only does this when he feels comfortable with a person because sharing his thoughts feels raw and vulnerable sometimes.

Having a significant other who loves to read and appreciates these types of gifts would make him feel happy and very emotional. It’s not often he gets to share this side of himself with people.

When he gifts his copies to his friends or his partner, he feels like he’s leaving a piece of him with the person, so he only does this when he trusts you.

He leaves detailed little messages on the margins of his books. He draws little smiley faces on the cute parts and angry faces on the parts that made him upset.

In the books for his significant other, Jason leaves little notes around the quotes that remind him of you. He highlights them in a different colour and makes sure his notes look extra tidy.

He sucks at wrapping things, so sometimes you’ll get a very poorly wrapped, tape covered novel. You’ll look at the wrapping and laugh, you’d pinch his cheeks teasingly and tell him he did a good job. He’d turn his face away in embarrassment, which leads to you placing a gentle kiss on his cheek.

Then, there would be times where he doesn’t have the energy to deal with the horrible wrapping paper. So, you’ll be gifted a plain paper back with a sticky note on the front cover that reads ‘for you,’ in squiggly lines.

It’s honestly sweet and he gets very shy about it.

Also, Jason’s taste in books is very diverse, he reads anything from the classics to romance to gothic horror. He reads anything and everything and because of that, I think that it would be very easy for you to share your thoughts and recommendations with him.

Even if Jason hasn’t read the book, he listens intently with a huge smile on his face. He loves listening to you talk. If he doesn’t know the author or the book, he will try to familiarize himself with what you’re reading and branch into different genres.

There would be lots of reading and bookstore dates. You’d browse through the different aisles with his hand in yours, only letting go when a particular book catches your attention. He watches you in awe as you gush about the different series.

(Side note, my friends and I always go to bookstores and just point out the worst books we’ve read and I think Jason would do that too.)

As you search through the shelves to find your next read, he’ll come to you all excited, rambling about the book in his hand. From the looks of it, it seems like he loves the book. His hands are moving around, he’s smiling and giggling, but if you pay attention, he’s actually just cussing out the author.

This becomes a tradition in your relationship. You both bring up books that you hate instead of the ones that you really enjoy. You’d spend the next hour of your bookstore visit just giggling at the random passages that the author thought were good enough to share with the world.

I think this would also lead to a book club of reading awful books sometimes just for shits and giggles. There would be weeks where you would read amazing, well written stories together, but then there would be times when you guys would pick up something bad just to make fun of it.

Overall, Jason would love having a book nerd significant other because he finally has someone who he can geek out with.

[samandcolbyownme]

im begging for more johnnie angst leading to smut

Warnings: SMUT18+, strong language, angsty, mentions of alcohol, drinking alcohol, arguing, kind of a rocky relationship, reader being sad at times, jealousy, making the other jealous, kissing, hair pulling, choking, biting, scratching, unprotected sex, general filth

Word Count: 3.5k | unedited

——

Mixed signals.

Misread signs.

That’s all it seems anymore when it comes to Johnnie.

You thought you made your feelings for him pretty clear, but according to Johnnie, you didn’t.

“Did you see that girls Instagram?” Avani leans in to you and you notice your other friend try and signal her not to ask.

“It’s fine.” You force a small smile, “And yes. I did.” You finish your drink, “If he’s happy. I’m happy.”

As you get up and walk away, you hear Ellie scold her for asking. Ellie knew more about the situation, the details pertaining what happened between you and Johnnie.

“Hi, can I three shots of tequila and then a blue popcicle, please.” You sigh as the bartender nods, “oh, and can you make that popcicle one a double shot, please.”

“You got it.” He smiles and goes to make your drink.

You look around, the club was pretty packed tonight, which isn’t a surprise for it being a Friday night.

“Here’s your sh-“

You down one, “Can I get another. Just add it to my tab, y/l/n.”

“I can do that.” He laughs slightly and takes the empty shot glass off the bar.

You lean against the counter, the alcohol was already coursing hard through your system. It was only a matter of time before Johnnie’s name became topic of conversation, so you had to be drunk for that.

“Here’s your drink and your shots, do you need help?”

You shake your head, “I think I got it, can you just… nevermind.” You take your shot and grab the other two, along with your drink and walk back to the table.

“Here, I’ve already had two.” You laugh as you set the small glasses down gently, “I couldn’t carry a third.”

“I think it’s time to slow down, y/n.” Ellie says before taking her shot. She laughs, “Fuck that. Let’s go dance.”

You’re pulled to the dance floor by your girl friends, immediately falling into a rhythm of dancing to the beat of the music.

You spin around, eyes on the door and you see Johnnie walk in. Jake and the girl from Instagram by his side.

You spin away, pointing behind you subtly to Ellie and she leans out, her jaw dropping slightly as she leans back in, “What the fuck?”

You shrug, “Don’t know. Don’t care.”

You grab her hand, along with Avani’s and spin them around.

You were having a good time, key work were. Now you just wanted to go home, crawl into bed, and pass out for the next day and a half.

You felt eyes on you.

You knew exactly who they belonged to.

But you chose to avoid it. Dancing with the girls, and soon enough, you had attention being drawn to you because two hot girls dancing together like this was enough to get anyone’s attention.

Your hands roaming up and down Ellie’s body. Avani, who was behind you, holding your hips as you grinding against her.

Everyone loves the three drunk bitches.

“I need another drink.” You laugh as you walk over to the bar, squeezing in wherever you could fit.

The same bartender walks up, “Another shot?” He smirks and you tilt your head, “Mmm, how about you surprise me?”

He nods, giving you a smirk, “Gotcha.”

You look across the bar, seeing Johnnie talk to Jake. Jake was the first to notice you, quickly departing his group to come say hi to you.

“What’s up, what’s up, what’s up?” He says as he walks up, embracing you in a hug, “Haven’t seen you around in a while. What the hell happened?”

You raise your brows, “I’ve just.. um. Been busy, I guess.” You shrug, “I don’t know. What have you been up to?”

He shrugs, “you know, vloggin’ travelin’. The same.”

You nod, “Are you vlogging your night out?” You laugh and Jake laughs, “I mean, I wasn’t going to, but now that you say something.”

He pulls his phone out and starts to record, “What up! I’m Jake, and I’m drunk, if you couldn’t already tell.” He laughs and motions to you with his thumb, “Look at who I found here at the club.”

“Hey hey hey.” You laugh, leaning forward to take your shot. The bartender watches you take it and you nod, “Oh that’s so good.”

The bartender smiles, “Glad you like it.”

“Can I get two more of whatever the hell that was?”

He nods, “Absolutely.”

“You’re taking a shot with me.” You point to Jake and he nods, “Yes ma’am.”

You knew that Johnnie seeing you talk to Jake would ruffle his feathers, and that’s exactly what you wanted. You were done being the one to chase.

You wanted to be chased.

“Here you go.” The bartender slides over two shots and you grab them, handing one to Jake, “Cheers!”

“Cheers!” Jake yells and you both take your shots.

“Holy fuck, that is good.” Jake shoves the shot glass into his pocket and you point, “What are you doing?”

“Shhh.” He laughs, “I like to steal things from restaurants and bars.”

“Oh my god.” You laugh, “I’ll see you later.”

“Hey, don’t be a stranger, we miss ya around the house.”

You give him a thumbs up as you walk away, finding your friends on the dance floor and continuing to dance for a while.

——

As you’re walking to the bathroom, you notice the girl Johnnie brought with walking out.

You keep your head up, walking past her towards the bathroom, but she grabs your arm, “Oh my god, y/n, hi.”

“Do I know you?” You tilt your head, pulling your arm from her. She shakes her head, “No, but I’m a friend of Johnnie’s. I know you guys are close.”

You laugh at her words, “Are we?” You look at her and she looks confused, “I’m sorry I-“

“I have to pee.” You walk into the bathroom and go into the stall. You sit down, pulling your phone up to check it.

You have a few messages, nothing important.

You finish up, walking out to see your friends standing there, “Thought we lost you.” Avani laughs, “Here, let’s take some pictures.”

You wash your hands and dry them, moving back to stand next to them to pose for some pictures.

Your mood was lifted once again, laughing with your two friends as you walk back out into the club, but was quickly ruined by that girl pointing and Johnnie turning around.

“Oh shit.” You mumble, taking a deep breath as Johnnie walks up to you, “Hey.”

“What’s up?” You look from the ground up to him, “Look, if this is about-“

“What’s going on with you?” Johnnie cuts you off and you scoff, “What?”

He glances at your friends and they take a few steps back. Johnnie pushes you over to the corner and leans in, “Tay said that she tried introduce herself to you and you just blew her off.”

You shrug, “I had to pee, pretty bad actually. What? Did you want me to stand there making small talk about you while I just let the flood gates open?”

He furrows his brows, “Wait.. Small talk about me?”

“Really, that’s what you’re focusing on?” You laugh, shaking your head, “It’s been fun, but I gotta run.”

Johnnie grabs you hand, stopping you from walking away, “Y/n, wait.”

“We’re done here, Johnnie.” You stare at him as you slip your hand from his, “We can talk when we’re both sober. Maybe.” You shrug, “I don’t know.”

“What do you mean? Y/n, I’m not drunk.” Johnnie argues but you force yourself to walk away, forcing a smile towards Tay as you walk by.

“I’m ready to go home.” You mumble as you pull out your phone, “I’m getting an Uber, are you guys coming with me?”

Ellie tilts her head, “What was that about?”

“Can we not talk about this right now?” You glance up at her and she nods, “Okay.”

——

Once arriving home, you make your way to your room, allowing Avani and Ellie to crash in the guest room.

You sit down on the bed, letting out a sigh as you lay back. You bring your phone up, seeing texts from Johnnie, but you laugh, dropping your phone down on to the bed beside you.

You sit back up, closing your eyes as the alcohol goes straight to your head.

You stand up, changing into a t shirt and shorts before walking down the hall to the spare room. You push the door open, stopping when you see the two girls snoozing away, still in their heels.

You laugh quietly and close the door, walking out to your kitchen.

You grab some water and stand there. You should have left your phone in your room, seeing as your screen keeps lighting up.

You knew it was Johnnie.

You really didn’t want to deal with him, not like this.

You’ve been friends for a while, growing close almost immediately. You felt the tension, and you for sure thought Johnnie felt it, too.

But you were wrong.

Maybe you were being a little, dramatic about it, mainly because you were head over heels for this man, but that still didn’t explain why you were so hung up on him.

You kept coming back to him, the thought of him. Wanting to be with him and only him.

You tried dating, but no one compares to Johnnie.

You loved Johnnie.

You just wished he felt the same, but seeing him tonight with the girl from Instagram, made you realize that maybe he just doesn’t feel the way you do.

You were on two different pages apparently, and you just had to get over him.

Were you going to? No.

You reach for your phone, sighing as you go into the text thread. Your eyes scan down over the messages, scoffing at the ones to where he called you rude because you didn’t stop and talk to Tay.

Y/n, please text me. Or call me, I don’t really care. I just want to talk to you.

Please.

Something is off with you, you say hi to Jake but not me? I thought you were supposed to be my best friend.

I’m not trying to start anything, mainly because I know you were drunk, but next time, please don’t be rude to any of my other friends.

You start typing, zoning out as your thumbs hit the screen in a quick pace.

Honestly, Johnnie. What do you expect from me? I was having a good night, a great night until I seen you walk in with her.

You stare at the message, highlighting the text and deleting it before you start typing again.

Sorry I didn’t stop and have tea and crumpets with your new girl, my apologies.

You hit send, laying your phone face down on the counter before you chug your water from your bottle.

Maybe being an asshole will get you past these feelings, maybe treating him like someone who hurt you is the way to go.

It’s not.

You let out a sigh, the feeling of guilt from your test settling in and you reach out to grab your phone, typing away at trying to fix what you started.

I’m sorry. I’m tired and just not in the mood for any drama. I’m sorry that I was a bitch to Tay. I’m sorry I didn’t say hi to you. What more do you want me to say?

You stare at the text, shaking your head as you laugh the tears away, “Fuck.” You delete the message, locking you phone.

You go to walk away and you hear the buzz against the countertop.

You hesitate at first, but you pick it up, accepting the call, “Hello.”

“I’m, uh, actually surprised that you picked up.” Johnnie laughs slightly and you raise your brows, nodding silently, “Yeah, me too.”

“What’s going on with you?”

“Nothing.” You lean forward, forehead resting against your other palm, “I’m just, tired. I can feel my hangover settling in.”

“That’s not everything.” Johnnie states, “I know you.”

“Can we not do this now, my friends are asleep and I really don’t want to argue with you.”

“Who said we’re arguing?” Johnnie’s tone is confused, “Seriously, y/n. What did I do to piss you off so much?”

“How do you know I’m mad at you?” You tilt your head, “I never once said -“

“You don’t have to say anything, y/n. I know you.”

“Clearly..” you breathe out, “You don’t.”

You hang up and set your phone down, groaning quietly as you rest your head on the counter, “What the fuck.”

Your phone vibrates again but you hit the lock button to silence it.

It vibrates again, and you repeat your action.

You watch the screen and a text pops up. You slide your phone over, unlocking it to read Johnnie’s text.

If you hang up one me one more time, I’m coming over. We’re not done with this conversation.

His call comes through, and you decide to test his bluff. You lock the screen once more and that’s the last you heard from Johnnie.

At least, for twenty minutes.

You’re still standing at the counter when there’s a quiet knock on your door. You stare at it, letting out a sigh before you push yourself up.

You walk over and open it, staring at Johnnie who’s on the other side.

“Something’s gotta give.” He shrugs, laughing slightly, “Please, just, talk to me.”

You motion for him to come in, “Ellie and Avani are sleeping so..”

“I know, I know. No arguing.” Johnnie smirks and you roll your eyes as you close the door, taking a deep breath to compose yourself.

If anyone wakes them up, it’ll be your yelling.

You turn around, walking over to sit on the stool by the counter, “What do you want to talk about?” You watch as Johnnie sits on the stool in front of you, “I just want to know why you’re giving me the cold shoulder. We were fine, and then all of a sudden you go-“

“I didn’t get anything. Maybe, before putting the blame on me, you take a look at yourself and ask, hmm, maybe it is me. What did I do to upset y/n, huh?”

“So you are mad at me.”

“No i-“ you sigh, propping your arm up on the counter, your hand covering your face, “Johnnie.”

He lays a hand on your knee, leaning in, “Is it Tay?”

You keep your hand over your face, keeping every muscle in your body still, “No.” you shake your head, turning to look at him, “As long as you’re happy.”

“Do you think we’re together?” He laughs slightly and you roll your eyes, “This isn’t funny, Johnnie.”

“No. You’re right. It’s not, but at the same time..”

“What.” You look at him and he shrugs, “Maybe if you didn’t avoid me, you would know she is someone who’s going to be in my never music video and that we’re just friends.”

Just friends.

You stay silent, your brain swirling around with thought after thought until Johnnie snaps you out of it, “Hey. What happened?”

You shake your head, “Nothing, I’m just.. tired.”

“From all the dancing, huh?” He smirks and you roll your eyes again, “Yeah, sure.”

“Come on, y/n. We were so close and then..” he shrugs, “We fell apart, I don’t understand.”

“Are you that dumb?” Your question comes off harsher than intended and you close your eyes, “Sorry, I didn’t.. mean it like that.”

He nods, “I mean, yeah, kind of.” He laughs, “But can you elaborate on why you’re asking?”

You wanted to spill your guts. Tell him everything. Beg him to love you, but you weren’t going down to that level.

You were done doing the chasing, as said.

It was his turn, if he even wanted it.

“Were you jealous of Tay?”

His question was like nails on a chalkboard, “No.”

“That doesn’t sound very convincing, y/n.”

“Were you jealous when Jake came over to say hi?” You look up, expecting a whole different answer from what you got.

He nods, “Yeah, actually. He gave me his phone and I just kept rewatching the video. I haven’t seen you smile like that in weeks.”

You shrug, “Sorry.”

After a moment of silence, “I’ve been missing the signals, having I?” Johnnie sighs quietly and looks up at you.

All you can do is nod.

“Is everything this there?” He asks and you nod, giving him a shrug, “Hasn’t left. No matter how hard I tried..” you shake your head, “I thought I was over you, but I knew I wasn’t the minute I saw you with someone else.”

He nods, “I’m the one who should be saying sorry.”

You scoff, raising your brows, “It’s fine.”

“It’s not.” He moves closer, “I hurt you without knowing, but I should have known. That’s on me, y/n, okay?”

He reaches out, touching your cheek, “I-“ he sighs, “I have no excuse. I just must be that dumb.” He laughs slightly.

You smile, laughing quietly, “it was getting really pathetic for me to still hope it was you and me in the end.”

“It can be.” Johnnie cups your cheek, “If you want it to be, it ca-“

You pull him in, closing the space between your bodies.

Your lips on his and you’re basically straddling him on the bar stool. His arm wraps around your waist and his other hand stays on your cheek as he moves to stand up.

You pull him to the steps and you go into your room, your shirt instantly coming off, leaving you in nothing but your shorts.

Johnnie is quick to undress, his eyes never leaving your body as you lay on the bed.

He walks over, his body moving up yours as he leaves kisses over your chest and up your neck. His hand travels down your body and you wrap your arm around his neck, “I love you, Johnnie Guilbert.”

He smiles against your skin, leaning back to kiss your lips, “I love you, y/n y/l/n.”

You work to get your shorts off while he pushes down his boxers. He reaches down, aligning his cock with your aching cunt and glides in.

You gasp, head tilting back as you’re engulfed in the feeling of the pleasure you’ve been waiting for.

“Fuck, fuck.” You gasp, your chest rising and falling quickly as you pant, “Feels so good.”

“You’re everything I dreamed about.” He mumbles against yours lips, moving to plan kisses back your jaw line as he starts to thrust.

His thrusts are slow.

Full of passion.

Your legs wrap tightly around his waist as your nails drag up his back, earning a low groan from him, “Fuck.” His lips attack your neck, leaving love bites along your skin.

You moan out quietly, your back arching up from the bed as his thrusts grow faster.

He sits up more, his hands on the mattress beside your head. He looks down at you, lip pulled between his teeth as he watches your face twist with pleasure.

“You’re so pretty.” He whispers as he leans down to connect your lips with his, “I’ve been missing out on so much.”

You nod, “You have.”

You slide your hand up to his hair, your fingers tugging as your walls squeeze his cock, “Fuck, fuck. I’m almost there.”

He nods, kissing down your neck and over your shoulder before kissing back up to your ear, “Cum for me.”

You tighten your limbs around him, whimpering out as he guides you closer and closer, “Fuck, Johnnie.” You gasp out, eyes rolling back as you come undone, “F-fuck.”

He groans as he feels your walls pulse around him, moaning out as you kiss his neck, biting the skin to give him matching hickies.

He slides his hand up, cupping your cheek and tilting his head down to plant his lips on yours.

“You’ll never have to question my feelings for you.” Johnnie whispers, “ever again.”

You bite down on his lip, tilting your head back which earns a gasp, “Fuck.” He licks his lips, groaning as you tug on his hair.

He kisses you once more before burying his face into your neck, “I’m gonna cum.”

You nod, “Fuck, okay.” You moan out as he thrusts deeper, gasping as he pulls your body closer to his. His lips trail back up your neck and you swallow his moans as you feel his cock twitch.

He pulls out, spilling his cum onto your stomach with a sharp gasp, “Shit.”

He lays next to you, staring up at you, “I really am sorry, sweetheart.”

You nod, “It’s okay.” You sit up slightly, leaning in to kiss him, “You can make up for it all you want.”

——

Hope you liked. Thank you for reading, I love you all so much! 🖤 catch you in the next one!

Likes and reblogs are majorly appreciated!

[foreverisntenough]

‘OURS’

Summary: You were his and he was yours but what would it be like adding one more? Thrust into a whirlwind romance you never could’ve imagined that became your forever love. You continue building a new life across the pond with a very beautiful Scouser. A sequel to the ‘You’re Mine’ fic.

INDEX

Warnings: This series is 18+ and will contain fluff, suggestion, SMUT (unprotected sex,) pregnancy, parenting, mental health struggles, eating disorder, self doubt, body image issues, daddy kink, angst, alcohol consumption - not sure what else really… if i miss anything please lmk!

Note: Thank you for reading! Please be sure to like, comment, or message me what you think of the series! Try not to nitpick with any real pregnant/ baby logistics it’s better if you just read along happily :)

Chapter 26 - Back at Home | ‘Ours’

word count - 11.2k

“One more set, yeah?” Trent yelled out to you from the other side of the court bouncing a tennis ball again and again onto the ground and back up into his hand waiting for you. You sat on the clay court sweating with your head tucked between your knees, breathing heavily in your tiny white tennis dress, absolutely knackered.

“No, we are done. You’ve had your fun.” You shook your head refusing to make eye contact with him. Trent had beat you in straight sets… twice. It’s not even that you were bad at tennis, he just was very good and very determined to win. You were slightly more indifferent about your game of tennis today. Trent was not going to sacrifice his pride and let you win and you knew that, you should’ve remembered it though when you agreed to the match. Marriage be damned Trent Alexander-Arnold wasn’t loosing a game.

“I think I want to build a court at the house. I want to teach Ted tennis. I think it could be her thing.” He cooed, pulling the net down with his hand and stepping over it coming towards you. You finally picked your head up with a smile. It was both very cute but slightly ridiculous to want to build a tennis court at your home. It slowly but surely started to feel like a sports complex in your back garden. The pool, the turf pitch, there was half of a basketball court as well, and now he wanted to add tennis into the mix. Whatever he wanted though. To be fair, it was quite fun and cool he could just decide that and you were sure in a month's time you’d be going out to sit court side to watch him and Teddy attempt to rally.

“Her thing?” You asked him with a cute tired smile. Trent wanted Teddy to be good at sports and that was abundantly clear but with the general public constantly pushing the narrative that she had to play football, ‘project TAA’ trended when you announced the pregnancy. It wasn’t something he felt all that comfortable with. Of course, he wanted her to, they played a lot together and watched a lot of football together. He hoped she’d like it but he wanted her to make the decision for herself if she ever wanted to do it.

“Yeah, I mean she’s going to be sick at any sport but we could do this one together. Could be nice, no?” He explained plopping himself to sit on the court next to you. One thing was certain to Trent though, Teddy was going to be excellent at everything she ever did. Even in her failures he’d think she was incredible and her efforts always valiant. She’d fumble in the grass trying to run as fast as she could and the look in his eyes was as if she’d won a gold medal. That’s not to knock Teddy either, she was fairly coordinated for her age, his belief in her though was astronomical in size.

“I’m sure she’d love it, T. Not so sure she’d want you to just torment her the way you just did to me for the past few hours but in general I know she’d love more time with daddy.” You cooed shuffling to lay your head on his shoulder. He draped his strong arm closest to you around your shoulder and pulled you tight into him. He kissed your temple with a hum.

“Torment is unfair. You just weren’t dialed in, ya know? I was thinking that when we play next time…” Trent began on a rambling tangent or analysis of sorts about your performance. It could be something you’d find annoying or offensive but when Trent talked about something with so much passion and enthusiasm you just wanted to listen to it for ages. He cared about you and so he had things he wanted to say. It was a loving way of lending his opinion and assistance. “I think when you serve if you tossed the ball a bit higher it’d make such a difference, baby. Honest.” He cooed focused on bouncing the tennis ball again in front of you two. You just hummed in agreement with a smug smile. He was right. He was always right. That was the other thing that made the babbling all the more endearing. He knew what he was talking about.

“I will give it a go next time. Thank you for the advice, pretty boy.” You giggled a little as he stood up first and pulled you up by your hands. You dusted off your ass that had chalky dust from the court all over you but you began to care less and less when you became distracted watching Trent peel his sweaty t-shirt off over his head. There was something incredibly sexy about him when he worked out or was just sweaty. It should be gross and yet there were few things that turned you on quite like it.

“Maybe you can give me private lessons when you build the court at the house.” You spoke softly to him walking over to the side of the fenced in area now. You watched his back muscles move as he put the rackets away and your mouth watered. You move to run your hands up and down his back, over his strong muscles and he purred letting his head drop back towards you with a relaxed expression. You let your hands run lower down him until you reached the waistband of his shorts and then you glided your hands around his waist toying with it. “You know, I heard a lot of people sleep with their tennis instructors, baby.” You informed him. You were being cheeky but there was some truth to your trope. You knew a few marriages from growing up that had fallen victim to country club affairs. This was not that obviously. You were just being playful. He hummed, placing his hands over top of yours on his shiny tanned skin. He looked fucking delicious. You wanted a bite and so you took one. You pressed your lips to his back and worked kisses up his skin but when you reached his shoulder you bit down cheekily. He flicked his gaze to the side to see you with a handsomely conniving grin. “Yeah, but you wouldn’t mind. You could teach me… and then you could play with me…” you whispered to him, dropping your tone. Trent could feel his heart begin to race and slam against his chest. The hot air of the Mediterranean somehow feeling impossibly hotter than before The growing bulge in his shorts, anything but subtle. “And then of course we’d have to stretch after.” You kept talking with blatantly coy innuendos.

“Of course. Would need to stretch you out. Can't have you getting hurt” Trent provided an ad lib that had your pussy throbbing. Everything about this moment was sexy; the way he looked, the way he felt, the way he smelt, the way he sounded, it had you reeling.

“Right, I would definitely need it and then after that cool down I’d have to shower so.” You dragged your hands over his abs and then dipped slightly into the waistband of his shorts. Trent shuttering a little, having to take a deep breath, you then pulling your hands back up the muscles.

“I can help you there as well.” He cooed, grabbing your hands and spinning around in your embrace. He wrapped his arms around your own waist swiftly as you moved to drape yours up over his shoulders. He dragged his hands over the curve of your ass and then to the underside of your thighs before he picked you up with ease.

“Wow. That sounds…mmmph.” You couldn’t even finish your sentence. You smiled at him with a sultry smirk before diving back into your silly roleplay. “What a thorough instructor. How much does all this cost?” You giggled in his arms as he narrowed his gaze into your eyes. Your legs wrapped around his waist and he moved over to the bench off to the side of the court taking a seat, you coming down with him to straddle him now.

“For you pretty girl? Free but I have a few prerequisites.” He answered your question. You raised your eyebrow and bit your lip to hold back a juvenile excited smile forming on your face to hear his response. “Erm well thing is you’ve got to be my wife for the rest of your life and you’ve got to be a good girl f’me the whole time.” He cooed quietly in a way that shivers racing down your spine. You leaned forward and pressed your nose to his.

“I definitely will be both of those things forever.” You whispered before taking his bottom plump lip between your teeth and pulling it.

You boarded the private plane home and felt an odd mix of emotions. Part of you couldn’t wait to get back home to your baby girl and regular life but another part of you would’ve loved to stay on your honeymoon for the rest of your life. Spending time with Trent alone was so refreshing and almost energizing to your relationship. It was nice to be just you. Not parents, not a footballer, whatever it was, it was just so good to be Y/N and Trent together but your heart had a slight ache the whole time thinking about your little girl.

“You’re very pretty.” You whispered, running your hand over Trent’s hair. He was laying on top of you on a couch in the plane’s cabin. His cheek resting on your stomach. He looked like an angel. His features had gone more soft as he laid there resting.

“I’m sleeping.” Trent mumbled out against your warm skin. His plump lips moving flush against you too tired to prop his face up any to speak any more clearly. He had pulled up your shirt to lay directly on your stomach. He didn’t want any barrier between you two. For some reason he was being incredibly clingy for the last day and a half. He said he was fine but you knew it probably had to do with the fact that Liverpool’s preseason tour was so soon and he’d have to be away from you and Teddy.

“And you’re still very pretty.” You scratched at his scalp gently and he hummed nuzzling into you more. You weren’t looking forward to his departure but another season would be exciting. That was your life. That is quite literally what you legally had signed up for the other week, Mrs. Trent Alexander-Arnold would be at football matches guaranteed at least for the foreseeable future until he retired and probably still would be after that.

In swift succession your flight landed, you got in the car, and then you arrived at home. Trent let out a dramatic sigh as you walked into the house. He carried all your luggage and his inside and plopped it all in the foyer beside the door, the way that always drove you nuts. Trent started to laugh as he proceeded further into the house when he noticed a pause in your strides behind him seeing him drop it all there. Your brow furrowed as to why he was giggling away. He turned around cheekily and gave you a wink.

“I’m kidding! I know, I know. I will bring them upstairs, beautiful.” He sang to you bringing his hand to your waist pressing a kiss to your forehead. You muttered ‘so annoying.’ under your breath as you rolled your eyes. “Huh? Got something to say to me, your husband, the man you willingly chose to marry?” He cockily laughed while beginning to pick up all of the bags.

“No, baby.” You giggled, shaking your head, coming to help him pick up a few of the smaller pieces. You carried it all upstairs and you unpacked slowly and methodically while Trent laid in bed after a shower. It was so good to be home. Honestly, it felt like you’d been gone for ages. Frankly, you kind of had been considering you had left for the wedding weeks ago. With the help of both your families you had gotten Teddy from the United States back to the United Kingdom, Tyler flying her home for you but she was at Dianne’s now waiting for you to come get her. You picked her up and naturally it was a reunion full of tears.

Trent had to immediately get into football mode. The next day he was on his way to preseason training at AXA. It was a little insane you were already back at the start of another season but this time as his wife. Like the wind, things returned to normal, you were home and Trent was leaving the house for football yet again.

“You’re so cute.” You cooed watching Trent put on his watch with real focus to fix it’s clasp. You kept your focus on him. He deserved your focus but he held it without even trying. He looked so cute. He stuck his tongue out into the corner of his mouth the same way Teddy replicated often and scrunched his nose up.

“What are you on about?” He asked you with a breathy childish giggle you loved to hear only further proving your point. He flashed a look your way once he clasped it. Your heart faltered a little. It had only been mere weeks of no football and it wasn’t ever all that different but it was cute to see Trent put on his new training gear for each season every year.

“You’re just so cute, T.” You pouted at him. It felt almost like he was getting ready for his first day of school and had gotten a new outfit for it. He threw his head to the side dramatically the same way a school kid would.

“The disrespect. I’m a man, baby.” He shot back with some classic Trent sass and feigned offense.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah but you’re also such a cutttieeee.” You sang, hopping off the edge of your bed and skipping over to him. You wrapped your arms around his waist with a tight squeeze. Trent was sexy and manly, no shadow of a doubt but he also had one of the cutest faces in the world. Those boba eyes and pouty lips just were everything.

“Alright, well, this ‘cutie’ is going to go to his adult job as a professional male athlete so goodbye.” He cooed, wrapping an arm around you. He kissed your hair, breathing you in, relishing in a last moment of your comfort before he left for grueling workouts. He let go of you though more abruptly than you were expecting, walking to grab his phone off the nightstand. You thought he’d hold you a little longer.

“Wait… I don’t get a real kiss? I just called you cute and you’re gonna leave me without a kiss?” You looked at him shocked. He just shook his head at you. Of course, he wasn’t. That wouldn’t be any fun to just give into you. Your face dropped a little unintentionally offended that he just shook his head ‘no’ declining a kiss with you.

���You can’t call Teddy needy for me ever. Honestly. She learns this from you.” He laughed and you gave him a stubborn pout in return, something Teddy probably also learnt from you. “C’mere, you’re a joke but I love you.” He grabbed you and dragged you into him. He held your body in his arms and swayed you back and forth sillily. You smiled big up at him. He fairly harshly grabbed the back of your neck and pulled you into a deep kiss with a hum.

“And you feed into it! You love the attention so who's really to blame here?” You asked him cheekily, pulling away from a particularly good kiss.

“Mama up pleabs.” Teddy whined. Tears filled her lash line this morning as she stood looking up at you with big sleepy puppy dog eyes. She was still in her pajamas, cute as ever but the tears had been flowing since you’d arrived back home from Italy. Teddy was really emotionally attached to you and you weren’t sure how to manage it. Not in a bad way, it was okay, you were too paranoid not to check in with her doctors about it but you were worried about her dependency at first. It just made you want to coddle her, you hated staring into those pooling brown eyes. You never wanted to see her sad.

“My Teddy bear, it’s okay. I got you. Come on cute girl. Let’s make some breakfast for you and we can go sit outside in the sunshine, okay?” You attempted to put her down from your hold but you were met with more tears. Her little hiccups and sniffles from her cries breaking your heart. Teddy had been glued to you. You were trying to do anything to make her happy or distract her from the fact that you’d been apart for some time. You’d hope making her a breakfast she liked and playing outside would make her smile a bit.

“Mama nos. Up pleabs” Teddy pouted pleadingly at you pulling at your arms and waited diligently and fairly stubbornly until you picked her back up. She hadn’t let her own little arms wrapped around your neck loosen one bit since you had come back. She buried her face in your shirt, refusing to budge when you finally caved and picked her back up.

“Okay, okay. You just want mummy to hold you all day, huh?” You giggled brushing your hand over her curls, pressing a few gentle kisses to her cheek. She nodded sadly in response. “I’m not going anywhere, baby. I’ve got you. Aren’t you so happy that you, me and daddy are all back home together and the doggies?” You cooed and she hummed a ‘mmhmm’ sleepily hugging you. “We’ll have a fun day. You still have to tell mummy all the fun things you did at Mom Mom and Pop Pops. Can you tell me about how much fun you had at the beach with them and Win?” You asked her swiping your thumb under her eyes, catching some tears still slowly rolling down her soft skin.

“Missed my mama.” She cooed, rubbing her hands over her eyes awkwardly in the most adorable way in the funny way little kids did. Your bottom lip rolled. Teddy loved you and Trent. She wasn’t attached in a bad way but it was a hard thing to navigate how clingy she could get with you. With Trent so busy with football that was always an emotional departure each time and a confusing thing she hadn’t quite wrapped her head around entirely yet but sometimes you felt like she was all the more concerned when you weren’t around. That she was coming to terms that daddy had to travel for work and you’d see him on TV but where the hell did mummy think she was going? She was affectionate because you were affectionate and it was beautiful but you also wanted her to be strong, independent, and brave. You felt so guilty when you and Trent had said goodbye to her at once and knowing you had been together without her had her fairly upset. So what was her answer to what she did on her trip? She missed you, that's what she did.

“I know you did, Teddy bear but you had a fun time too. You were so brave on your plane ride home with Ty too. I heard you watched movies and had some snacks. Did you save me any goldfish crackers that Mum mum packed you, for me?” You asked her knowing that your mum had packed Teddy some for her flight home. It was a snack you introduced to Teddy when you were in the US and she loved the shape of them and of course the taste. She nodded. Dianne told you they were in her bag when you picked her up. Your mum had tucked some extra bags in with her things. “Oh wow! That's so nice of you. Thank you, sweet girl. My Teddy bear is such a big girl now. Mummy and Daddy are so proud of you for flying. You had lots of fun doing that, huh? Did you like traveling with Ty?” You asked her softly.

“Guess sos mama.” She answered you shyly, a little confused how she was able to feel both sad about missing you and happy about having fun with Tyler. She did really deserve your compliments. You were genuinely proud of her. She had flown home from New York with Tyler. He had some work things to do in Manhattan and some friends to see after the wedding so it had worked for him to get her and bring her back with him. She was chill and well behaved so it wasn’t exactly all that suprising news but it was cute that she was able to be brave like you hoped she’d be to fly home with her uncle, no mummy, no daddy. “And you know what else? I heard Pop Pop took you to get a really yummy treat a few nights that you liked. Do you remember what you had with him?” You asked her placing her back down on her own feet on the carpet crouching yourself down into a squat to get to her level to be eye to eye keeping your hand on her back.

“Chalk ice cweam.” She answered you in her best effort at pronouncing her dessert. You had heard all about ‘chalk ice cweam.’ They had gone out for ice cream one night and then another night and then another night by Teddy’s request. Your dad wanted to take Teddy to the ice cream shop he had always taken you and Winnie to while you two were growing up each summer. It made you melt like her ice cream cone had all over her tiny hand and white shirt in the photo your dad sent you. Teddy’s new obsession had taken on a life of its own from there. She loved it.

“Mmmmm was it so yummy? Mummy used to eat that with Pop Pop every summer time too. I loved it so much. My absolute favorite” You told Teddy and a pit formed in your stomach as the words fell out. Thinking about summers you’d spent indulging in ice cream cones with your dad, something you once loved so much made you sad and a little sick. Teddy was so excited by the treat and yet the idea of eating the dessert was horrifying to you now. You promised yourself you’d do everything you could to make sure Teddy never felt the way you did, what you did about something you used to love. You couldn’t let her develop this type of relationship with food or to be more honest, herself. “Do you know who else loves chocolate ice cream?” You cooed, starting to help her out of her cute printed pajamas trying to move on from your melancholy tornado of thoughts and get on with your morning. She shook her head ‘no.’ “Daddy does. You’re just like daddy, huh?” You smiled at her. That was a massive compliment to Teddy. That’s all she wanted. Trent was everything to her so her sleepy pout slowly curled into a proud smile. She just liked to copy him. She’d follow him around the house just wanting to do what he did. You got her changed and made your way to the kitchen for some pancakes and juice followed by a nice morning in the back garden. You had initially planned some fun activities and games but Teddy just wanted to be stuck to you so instead you compromised letting her snuggle up to you on a couch in the shade of the back patio playing more educational and less exerting games asking her questions about colors, numbers and spelling getting to see her mind develop in real time.

“Me, dada. Kiss Teddy.” Teddy yelled as she pulled at the hem of Trent’s shorts the second he walked into the house coming back from training. She had developed super senses. The ability to know the second when he arrived home. She just knew instantly and would dart to the door.

“Hi baby bear. What did you miss me or something?” Trent laughed at her overzealousness. She stood waiting impatiently and Trent knew it would drive her nuts if he held off any affection she was clearly, and to be fair, usually rightfully so, anticipating. “I am gonna go give mummy a kiss hello, okay?” Her brow furrowed. He wasn’t going to give her a cuddle? He’d been home for 60 seconds and even that was too long to wait for a kiss in her mind. What was this about?

“Dada no. Kiss Teddy first.” She huffed. She was right there and you weren’t even in the room, why was he leaving her? She couldn’t believe she finally had Trent back home with her and he wasn't fawning all over her like he normally did.

“Let me go give mummy a kiss.” He lightly jogged away from her but not leaving the room just around in a small circle in the foyer of your house. This probably wasn’t the time for these jokes considering her upset over you being apart. Teddy, shocked, stood still and her bottom lip began to quiver, her eyes filling quick with tears. “Oh no no no, don’t need to cry, my beautiful girl. I’m just kidding. C’mere. Always have a kiss for my Teddy.” Trent cooed, picking her up, giving her a peck on her little pout, brushing away her tears. “I’m sorry baby. I love you. Missed you all day.” He kissed Teddy again. And then again. And again. He peppered his kisses all over her before he just began blowing raspberries against her skin.

“Dada!” She squealed with giggles. You were just finishing letting the dogs back inside from the back garden but the beautiful cacophony of her giggles reached you. Teddy was with you originally but she took off running when her ‘super senses’ kicked in before your second dog made it in because she needed to greet him immediately upon entry.

“Greedy, greedy girl. Can you share dada with me?” You cooed, coming into the front room. Seeing Teddy finally back giggling made everything better. It put your heart and mind at ease. The two of them perfectly beautiful.

“No, mama. My dada.” Teddy clarified to you making sure you knew that he was hers. You frowned dramatically with a defeated huff before you turned away from them to leave the room. Frankly, you hoped that if you were treating Teddy as cheekily as you normally would her attachment post honeymoon would start to dilute. You’d coddle her but a good tease was welcomed.

“Mama … I’m sowwy. Can give my dada kiss if want, mama.” Teddy looked so sad as Trent placed her down. She grabbed at his hand and dragged him over towards you as if he was some sort of possession or item of hers to give.

“My dada.” You cooed possessively, turning around and draping and hanging your body weight onto Trent dramatically. Teddy had given you an inch and you took a mile in her eyes. She glared at you with a ‘don’t take it too far now’ type of stare which made you laugh.

“C’mere, pretty girl. Mwah!” Trent kissed you with a laugh knowing exactly what you were doing, you both were just provoking your daughter. It was in good humor but that was enough for now. You scooped up Teddy in your arms after and Trent pulled both of you into him. “Mummy is so silly, right baby? You and mama can have all the kisses now I’ve got both my beautiful girls back with me finally. Love you so much, yeah?” Trent kissed Teddy’s cheek and she giggled happy with the current arrangement.

Trent was leaving for Liverpool’s preseason tour tomorrow which wasn’t fun. It was always really hard. You hated being apart. It was definitely hard to explain to Teddy daddy was leaving for a week plus after he just was away. It was a mountain you were not looking forward to climbing. It was a rainy day and you were sat in the living room laid horizontally on the couch under a blanket. Teddy was playing with the dogs close by, messing about on the floor. Trent was upstairs preparing his things to pack for his fast approaching departure.

“Mama, what watching?” Teddy inquisitively asked, coming round the couch. She tilted her head interested. You sat up from your position on the couch and extended your arms towards her.

“I’m watching a tv show. Do you want to come and watch a Teddy and mama show with me instead?” You asked her sweetly and gently, deciding you could pause whatever you had on and jump to something for her. She nodded with an excited giggle running towards you. “Okay, one condition though.” You prefaced

“What mama?” She asked eagerly, climbing up on the couch into your lap pulling on you to get herself up to you.

“You have to snuggle up with mummy. Okays?” You told her and she wiggled in your lap moving to cuddle herself up to you goofily. She laid her head onto your thigh and wrapped her arms around your waist.

“What movie should we watch, Ted?” You cooed. You knew her answer already though. It had become her current fixation. Bless Tyler for enduring an eight hour travel day with her in the midst of this obsession.

“Poooh mama!” She yelped with a giggle. She was lovvving Winnie The Pooh. It kind of took you by surprise mostly because when you imagined having a baby you actually were curious what the latest and greatest movies, shows, and songs were for them now. Your dad had showed her it during the week of your wedding. Naturally she liked it. Before it even started when he had explained the main character, Pooh, was a bear and his name was her favorite (and only) aunt, Winnie, ticking two big* boxes for her. You hummed already navigating on the screen with the remote to start the movie.

“What are we watching?” Trent cooed coming downstairs into the room seeing you and Teddy cuddled up. Teddy incredibly focused on the screen, your gaze fixed on her wrapping her ringlet curls round your fingers.

“Dada, shhhh!” Teddy hissed pushing her finger to her mouth telling Trent essentially to shut up because Winnie the Pooh was on the screen.

“Oh wow, I am so sorry!” He puffed some air out his nose stifling a laugh. He was well aware of the fascination, he should’ve known better. He sat on the couch beside you manhandling you and by proxy Teddy into a cuddle with him. His arms around you, face buried in your neck pressing slow quiet kisses to your skin. Trent didn’t need to watch. You all had seen this movie a lot lately.

“We’re watching our favorite movie.” You answered him with a soft giggle. He hummed, not even needing a further explanation or title name. He knew immediately. The pugey little yellow bear on the screen also gave it away.

“Nah, I know what my favorite movie is and it is definitely not this one, baby.” He whispered, correcting you with his lips coming to ghost over the shell of your ear. You smirked having an inkling what he might be referring to. The cheeky direction of your thoughts was halted by a very agitated Teddy.

“Mama!! dada!!!” Teddy whipped around to glare at you both annoyed. Trent held his hands up in innocence, removing them from your sides and then naturally felt inclined to point at you to push the blame. You rolled your eyes at his childish behavior.

“Do I know this movie?” You craned your neck around, cooing in a significantly quieter voice hoping not to bother Teddy.

“Oh do you ever…” He whispered back and you felt your stomach drop a little in the best way. “You starred as the leading role. Main character, baby. Rave reviews about the performance I’ve heard as well.” He cheekily cooed, moving his lips much much closer to you. The feeling of his breath on your skin made your eyes flutter shut. He slipped his arm across your chest before dragging his big hand down your neck. It was frustratingly sexy but also stupidly innocent. You wanted to groan but you just focused your attention on that same little yellow bear still running about on the screen. Trent loved the feeling of your body sweetly snuggling into his juxtaposed with the incredibly suggestive hand placement that had both of your minds racing.

“Do you remember filming, movie star?” You shook your head disapproving of his teasing words that hit the shell of your ear with his plump juicy lips against your skin as he held you closer to him. You couldn’t stop your body from tensing in his embrace and the memories of not just that film he was referring to, the one that you’d made in the shower the other day with Trent, but all the other wonderful times you’ve had were coming flooding back. You tried to shuffle away but he held you to him moving his hand to press his palm flat against your stomach keeping you firm in place.

“Shhh, it’s rude to talk during our movie. Be quiet daddy” You cooed jokingly back to him needing to immediately pause the directions of your thoughts. You weren’t sure you’d be able to stand any more of him for the lengthy remainder of the movie left and the time until you put Teddy to bed. He reached around you and grabbed your chin to turn your chin back towards him. He kissed your lips gently. His pout feeling divine against your lips. You needed to not let him get in your head so you made the kiss a bit sillier than sexier sealing it with a ‘mwah’ noise. Teddy snapped around again to look at you very vexed, gesturing her hand towards the screen as if to say ‘what do you and daddy not understand about the fact that she was trying to watch Winnie The Pooh!’

‘Don’t forget this! Travel safe baby.’ You texted Trent and cheekily sent him the video you had discussed during the movie the other night, the movie you had filmed in the shower of your ensuite together. When he left for Liverpool’s preseason tour this morning, you wanted to cry but the keepsake of your spicy photos and video hidden on your camera roll would have to do in providing you some comfort and maybe a bit of fun while he was away. Marcel had come over the same morning a little later on just to hang with you, which was fairly common if Trent was home and probably even more so when he had to be away. It provided Trent a lot of comfort that someone could be home with his two girls. Marcel was sitting with Teddy at the kitchen island as you made them breakfast. The two of them babbling on and on about nonsense, taking selfies, and just being besties, frankly.

“Hey Marce, can you text T for me and ask where he put my mac charger? I forgot to ask before he left.” It just had randomly popped into your head that you had let Trent borrow it last night and per usual it was nowhere to be found. You asked Marcel not thinking about much other than preventing the pancakes on the skillet in front of you from burning, avoiding a critique from the two equally picky eaters at your table, despite their 20 year age gap. Marcel picked his head up and gave you a ‘sure’ answer. You just wanted to make sure you had a charger and he and Teddy had your phone. It was fine…

“Oh my god! Oh shit! Nope Ted, give that to me now!” Marcel yelped out as his eyes went wide and he winced in disgust, snatching the phone out of Teddy’s tiny hands. He turned the screen away from himself as well, grossed out by what was happening on it. Teddy was developing her finer motor skills as well as an infatuation with your phone. She loved playing with it and particularly loved taking selfies of herself or just hitting the camera button. You’d end up with thousands of blurred photos of her world but it was cute and you didn’t mind. She had meandered through from the camera somehow into uncharted territory when Marcel turned his attention to you for your question no longer following her movements on your phone. His eyes felt like they were burning when they snapped back seeing the video unfolding on the screen. Teddy wasn’t paying much attention to it she was more so staring at him now but the idea of her seeing a millisecond alone of a certain video freaked him out enough.

“Nah, Y/N. I’m gonna throw up. Like… Oh my god, Y/N.” He stood up frivolously panicked, rushing over to you, shoving your phone at you, holding it out in disgust. Teddy had clicked when she saw a notification from Trent pop up.. A small photo of him and his name appearing. His contact name in your phone since finding out you had gotten pregnant, originally as a joke, was ‘daddy’ leading to this disastrous moment you were unaware had unfolded. Teddy tapped seeing his name, problem being that she tapped on the last message you’d sent before he had taken off on his flight and hit play. Yes, it was that video.

“Oh my god! No!” You shrieked. Marcel motioned like he was going to be sick. You clicked off your phone and slammed it onto the marble countertop. “Literally oh my god!” You screamed.

“Honestly, I can’t look at you right now.” Marcel quipped running his hands over his head as he moved away from you back over to Teddy. He picked her up and she giggled at the sudden chaos that just unfolded in the kitchen. “You need new parents, they are disgusting, Teddy.” He spoke just to her moving into the archway into the next room connected to your kitchen. “Y/N!!! That is… That is foul.” He snapped at you.

“Stop saying my name like that, you're making me feel bad!” You yelled at him with a flush coming over your entire body. Your mind actually had gone almost completely blank. You were so in shock that your body's response was to start laughing. You couldn’t control it. “Oh my god!” You cackled, covering your face mortified.

“You should feel bad! That was criminal. Absolutely cannot believe you just left a video like that for your brother and baby to see.” Marcel quipped with wide eyes still as he shook his head while adjusting his hold of Teddy.

“I am so sorry. Oh my god. I’m sorry.” You profusely apologized in a panic. “Teddy, you didn’t see anything right? Didn’t see mummy on the phone?” You asked, petrified. She was actually at a solid enough age to identify what she saw. Maybe not from the adult perspective Marcel had just experienced but She’d be able to sus something out. You waited anxiously for her response.

“See what’s mama? Want to talk to dada now!!” She yelped blissfully unaware she could just have seen something that would’ve scarred her for life. She just wanted to talk to Trent now after seeing his name, opposite of Marcel. He never wanted to talk to you or Trent for time. You muttered a ‘oh thank god’ with a big deep breath. Marcel looked between you two and backed away by one step. You tried to walk towards him.

“Nope!” Marcel yelped out pushing his hand out towards you. “Stay away from us. Say mama’s gross.” He cooed to Teddy, sticking his tongue out towards you with a blow of air letting out a ‘ppbhhhttttt’ noise. You rolled your eyes at him. Teddy giggled with a jumbled version of what he was asking her to say then mirroring his action. Having Trent teach her nonsense was enough of a battle. She’d pick up random words he was loving using at the moment or he’d spit on the pitch and then she’d try to replicate, it was exhausting, incredibly cute but exhausting. You constantly had to manage the fine line of letting her have fun, learn, goof about, but still learn and know how to be polite and respectful, there was a time and a place for things. Adding two uncles, and two football teams, and all his friends around her it was just nonsense day in and day out. She was perfectly well behaved but she’d do this a lot. She’d be adventurous and silly with them eagerly giddy to do what they were doing.

“Baby… that’s not very nice to say to mummy.” You pouted, picking her up from his arms with a snappy glare.

“Sowwy mama. Not gwoss, tay?” She cooed with a pensive look not sure if she should keep her smile because Marcel was making her laugh or if she should fall more stoic because you had a frown on your face. You accepted her apology and kissed her with a big smile wildly relieved this hadn’t gone in another direction. You could manage Macel, he wouldn’t want to know an ounce more of detail than he gathered in that split second seeing that video. Teddy on the other hand more likely than not would’ve berated you with questions of what’s and why’s.

“No, actually I don’t think I can close my eyes ever again. Oh my days, man, that is fucking seared into my brain, Y/N.” Marcel groaned rubbing his eyes abandoning you and Teddy to plop himself on your living room couch. You placed Teddy back down on the floor and leaned over to whisper into her ear providing her with a set of instructions.

“Celly! Celly! Mama says you baby.” Teddy giggled, coming to jump onto the cushion next to him throwing herself over top of one of his outstretched legs with a goofy smile. “Like me?” She questioned him. He shook his head at her with a smile before he dropped it and scoffed. You loved to tease Marcel about his age. He wasn’t all that much younger but Dianne would always call him the baby and Teddy was intrigued that he was ‘like her.’ He snapped his neck to turn back and give you an unimpressed glare. If he wanted to use Teddy to make fun of your embarrassing faux pas, so could you. Two could play at that game. Trent was happily unaware of your mortifying morning scandal with Marcel. He was asleep on the flight to preseason. You had no doubt this would be used quite a bit though as ammunition to make fun of you both for time. He’d find out soon enough surely. Trent landed safely, falling into training sessions and heavy workouts, facetimes with Teddy and ones with you where you relayed the whole experience. He thought it was funny considering she didn’t see anything. You still felt wildly embarrassed.

“What is the one thing you're loving at the moment or the thing you’ve been obsessing over this summer?” Amidst preseason, a laidback journalist sat across from Trent asked him as he did press in between sessions. Trent smiled but paused to bite his plump bottom lip in thought.

“To be fair, l’ve been loving being married, obsessing over my wife.” Trent smiled tilting his head to the side and catching a glimpse of his phone screen illuminating with a notification. His background photo was of you and Teddy getting ready at The Plaza ahead of the wedding. He said he liked it the most because it was something he usually got to witness everyday. It was you two captured in your most Y/N and Teddy Alexander-Arnold selves. You were hugging her from behind pressing your cheek to hers as she awkwardly wrapped her arms up around your neck. He laughed a little before speaking again. “Erm… actually, I’ll get battered for that one. It’s my honest answer but you’ll have to cut that out.” He laughed. Naturally, the publication kept it in the eventually uploaded Youtube video. “I’ve really been loving Pilates. Get on it if you haven’t. Actually, my wife introduced me and we’ve been doing it a lot. So pilates.” He concluded that was his final answer. The reporter smiled seeing that Trent was seemingly unable to avoid talking about you even if he tried to deviate. He cheekily fixed his gaze directly into the camera lens sending a wink in that direction. It was sweet because yes, it was true Trent actually was enjoying it since his first time doing it in Italy but it was more just a sweet way for him to still say that the thing he’d always be loving at the moment would be you.

“I’m home, baby. I’m so sorry. Our arrival time got pushed back.” Trent whispered, pulling your limp body towards him across your mattress. He nestled you two under the covers back in your big bed after what felt like a very long two weeks apart.

“T…” you whined sleepily. You nuzzled your face against his neck lazily pushing your lips, not really even able to purse them, against his warm skin. You just left them placed there.

“Shhhh baby. Sleep.” He hushed you, wrapping you that much tighter in his embrace kissing your hair, breathing you in. He always did this thing that if you had fallen asleep before he had gotten home and his mind was still racing a mile a minute he’d just quietly whisper a murmur of compliments and mushy things to you interspersed with kisses. You weren’t even sure what he was saying. You knew it was nice, you’d catch bits of it sometimes, but most of the time you were out cold lulled by the comfort of him.

“I know missed you so much but she’s going to absolutely freak out. I don’t know if I’m ready for that squeal.” You were of course talking about your daughter, Teddy. You woke up cuddled with Trent, happy he was finally back home but you knew she was about to be even more thrilled than you, if that was possible. You had thought it’d be a fun surprise to not tell her the exact day daddy would be home and so to her delight she’d be woken up this morning by Trent. “I’m still so tired. Ted’s been putting me through it. I feel like I just chase after her. The energy levels she has and you know what… pace. She’s proper fast now, you know?” You cooed to Trent. Everything she did was amazing but also, she was still so young, she couldn’t have been all the fast but you knew Trent would get excited hearing an athletic update. You’d fill him in about taking Teddy to the nail salon and the big debate she had choosing what color to get later. This one was fun for now. Trent quite literally ran with your first tidbit of information about his time away. You could hear both their footsteps slapping against the floor as they sprinted down the hallway from Teddy’s room back to yours after he woke her up.

“Arghhh I think I just edged ya out, Ted.” Trent dramatically but fairly gracefully outstretching himself onto the carpet of your room reaching out for the ‘finish line’ i.e. the doorway. Of course, this was a race. The challenge set by Trent. Teddy had stumbled through it marginally before him. He looked up towards her with a confident grin knowing she did get through first.

“No dada! Teddy win. See! Dada! I win.” Teddy yelped out in a huff. She believed she won, she had. You could see your future ahead of you, the two of them constantly in conversation about who had won something. She was stood up still looking at him on the ground but then quickly plopped herself to lay on her belly on the carpet outstretched next to him.

“Oh I don’t know, I think I won. See.” Both you and Trent laughed. Her laying down to reach the finish line wasn’t all that effective of a tactic after she’d already ran through the finish line once which was cute. Trent stretched his arm out further reaching past the length of the tips of her fingers.

“Erm…” Teddy hummed thinking for a moment what to do. She wanted to win too but his arm clearly stretched past hers and you all could see that. “Tie dada, tay? We tie, tay?” She smiled at him before scootching herself up a little more on the carpet on her belly with a wiggle for their fingers to come be relatively aligned. Your heart warmed.

“Okay, that's fine with me. Dada and Ted tied. You and me can be on the same team so we both won, alright?” He explained to her rolling over onto his back and pulling her into his arms eliciting a giggly squeal you expected to hear for the next couple hours.

“You’re so nice, baby. Good idea to tie but I think you might’ve won it.” You poked a very sensitive bear and it wasn’t your Teddy. If it was anyone else in the world but Trent’s own daughter, his baby bear, not a shot he’d let that result fly. Settling for a tie? Not a chance. He’d immediately be inisting you do it again or tacking on an entirely new challenge to do. He would be fighting a battle that he created on his own. Yes, even you didn’t have the weight to get him to settle for a tie anymore.

“No, mama! Dada Ted tie, tay?” She corrected you. That was a big thing for her at the moment, finishing most sentences with her version of ‘okay.’ She heard you two say it in a more colloquial way a lot. She was using it to make sure you understood her.

“Okay, okay. Wanted to share the win with daddy, I got it. You’re such a daddy’s girl, aren’t you?” You cooed with a smile before rolling your eyes just at Trent.

“Nah!” He kissed her cheek dramatically. “She’s just my best friend, innit?” He spoke with Teddy nodding in agreement, you shot him a glare. Teddy Alexander-Arnold was without a shadow of a doubt, unequivocally a daddy’s girl. Full stop. Trent laughed knowing what your stare insinuated. “Yeah, yeah, she is. Whatever, I know that and I know that it’s the best thing ever as well. Look at this face, baby. How can you resist this?” Trent cooed to you taking Teddy’s face in his massive hands squishing it, the giggly squeal returning as anticipated.

“Aw Ted, you are daddy’s beautiful girl.” You smiled at them. Their faces nearly identical. “It’s ridiculous how obsessed she is with you but…” You spoke just to Trent again, sitting up more before falling forward to lay on your stomach to face them on the floor.

“I mean pot calling the black, cmon now.” Trent laughed. You’d been obsessed with Trent for years factually. You huffed a little being called out. “You’re my girl though as well and you don’t seem to mind that. Not a bad thing is it?” Trent continued leaning over on the floor to reach up to you. He cupped your cheek and pressed a soft kiss against your lips.

“No, it's not so bad.” You pouted after the kiss craving more but you’d settle for the one if it meant you got to watch more of them, beginning your slow morning before the home opener.

The first game of the season was in fact in a day or sos time so in typical fashion even in free time, you were going to find yourself near a football pitch. You were sitting on the turf grass out on the pitch in your back garden in the evening as the sun began to set. You were in a tiny black alo workout set and a hoodie of Trent’s you had nicked off him because it was getting chilly being a spectator. Trent was far from chilly, he was very hot and he looked very hot as well. In retrospect you think he might’ve been doing this just to show off for you but you’d never complain. He knew how to put on a good show, to perform for you. He pulled his shirt over his head, tugging the material with his strong arm and back muscles flexing. You salivated at the way he dragged it over himself. It was so sexy. You sat on the side of the pitch really doing nothing but admiring him as he took and retook dead balls and free kicks. After a while though unprovoked you just started to give him shit to tease. His performance didn’t warrant any but you did it anyways.

“Alexander-Arnold really miss hit that one. Certainly not the best from the Liverpool right back.” You called out the jab mimicking a commentator’s voice like you’d hear on TV. He ignored the first couple ones just grinning to himself with an occasional eye roll continuing on. “Wayyyy! Come on!” You yelled after another strike as if it was a jeer from the crowd before falling into a giggle you tried to stifle. You threw your hands like you were a disappointed fan at a stadium.

“Enough! You come take one, baby. Go on! C’mere. Take one.” He demanded with teasing fury. He looked at you with a smug smile gesturing to the spot of the turf in front of him. You leaned forward and stood up. You jogged over to him. He laughed, placing the ball in place for you.

“Damn…” you muttered with a pout. You didn’t take too long to take the kick. You were doing this for jokes but you did end up hitting the top crossbar, the ball ricocheting off.

“Y/N Alexander-Arnold really mishit that one…” He mocked your earlier comment. You rolled your eyes and waved your hand at him.

“Give me a minute please. You’ve been doing this for an hour. I just got here and I’m in socks right now.” You hushed him, making him set the next ball. You really struck it well. It was indisputably a good kick. Not of his quality of course, but it was Trent-esq. He didn’t say anything, he just went to grab the next ball. “Oh come on! Give it to me… you know it as well.” You yelped, annoyed he didn’t acknowledge that it was good. You lunged to grab at his waist begging for his approval.

“Absolute scumbag, you. C’mere.” He muttered out with a cheeky smile. You squealed as he tried to grab at you. You attempted to take off away from him, obviously he caught you, dragging you down onto the field with his sweaty body falling over top of yours. The cheeky mood changed in a second. Your heaving chest rising and falling under him. He looked at you like he wanted to eat you and you weren't scared, you were begging for him to with your eyes. He leaned closer to you, his weight was anchored on his hands resting on either side of your head. You raised your hands and cupped his face bringing it down to yours maintaining your gaze on his beautiful brown eyes. Your own features growing more and more malleable under his focused attention. You met him in the middle, lips clashing eagerly. You kissed him with a hum. He fell into you passionately. He placed his hands overtop of yours before moving them off his face and pinning them above your head down to the turf. You let Trent do whatever he wanted with you when it came to moments like this. You were always so pliable as soon as his hands were on you. Thank god, your closest neighbor was acres away because this wasn’t going to stop. The kiss heated up fast. He kept one hand holding yours, the other eagerly roaming your body. You squirmed under his tantalizing touch. He had slotted himself between your legs spread wide. His cock growing hard and strained in his shorts. The bulge of his cock pushing into the warmness of your core between your own thighs. How the fuck did you end up like this? Your back was arched as he nibbled down your neck. He reveled in your moans beginning to grow louder and the feeling of you pushing your hips up into him. His hand slid under the small top you had on dragging it up and let your tits bounce out, exposing your boobs out in the night. He loved how you usually looked, but this was just on another level of beautiful and sexy. You were desperate and illuminated by the sunsetting and the warmth of your houses lights reaching near the pitch. He dropped his mouth down to your collarbone and then to one of your nipples. His hand trailing down at the same slow pace until he reached the waistband of your shorts sliding inside them. His fingers moving gingerly to your aching core and then up and down the slit of your now soaked pussy before he landed to circle over your clit ever so deliciously.

“T… oh my god. We can’t do this.” You whined through a gasp feeling him play with your sensitive clit. He rolled his hips into you more and it became even more clear there was no stopping this train, nothing you could say to stop him or you.

“It’s so good though. C’mon, baby give into this.” He cooed against your neck, his hot breath hitting against your skin slick with the wetness left from his lips. Your hand reached for his wrist, fingers wrapping around his lower arm trying to stop him from getting you to cum from just his fingers on… the turf pitch in your back garden. It was fucking insane how he had you like this. You had no control. He pulled away from your neck and moved his hand to your relief momentarily to prop himself to carefully take his cock out. He was blissfully unaware of how good he looks right now.

“Fuck… it’s so good, baby. Please. I want you.” You begged him leaning up a little. He inched himself closer before lining himself up with your pussy. He slowly pushed his tip through the slick of your opening. He watched himself coating his tip in a soft sheen of you. He hummed in response and agreement with you. You reached down desperately to help guide him inside of your further and faster easing through your walls.

“Be a good girl. Fuck. Baby, you feel so good f’me.” He grunted, beginning to pick up his pace. You clung onto him. Your arms draped around his neck, your legs around his waist dragging your heel down his back grinding into him keep him as close to you as possible. You wanted your bodies intertwined and your souls weaved seamlessly together. He kissed you again, swallowing your moans as he drove into you deeper and deeper. He picked up your thigh draping it over his forearm and moving your knee up towards your chin. The new angle ripped the most blissful whine from you. He smiled in the middle of his kiss, loving your reaction. He trailed his kisses from his lips down your jaw, your neck, your collarbone, and then down to reach your tits. He wrapped his lips around your nipples letting himself lazily flick over them drawing you closer and closer to your high.

“T.. baby. This is…fuck! Oh my god. Fuck!… Ridiculous.” You yelped after a particularly harsh and deep thrust. Minute after minute passed and you could feel the grind of the grassy turf beneath your rub against your back’s exposed skin. His hands rested on the dips of your waist, guiding his cock into you again and again. The roll of your own hips meeting his.

“Doing so well, beautiful. That’s it, Gonna cum f’me?” Trent’s breath began to become shallower as your pussy started to clench tighter around him. He looked down at you with so much love in his eyes it almost covered the lust. You looked so pretty underneath him, his cock still buried deep inside of you. “I’m gonna make you cum, baby. Just take it f’me.” Trent instructed you getting lost in the feeling of drilling in and out of your sopping wet pussy as you whimpered beginning to tremble, completely captivating him.

“T, baby…” you whined between heaving breaths. You sounded so pretty for him. “Please, please don’t stop! I’m gonna cum, baby.” You begged him squeezing your eyes shut tightly as you started to feel an orgasmic high fast approaching. He was so deep inside that you could feel every ridge and vein move inside your velvety walls. His large hands drew down your body in between you two and began rubbing tight circles on your throbbing clit. Your mind turned to complete mush. His thrusts became increasingly sloppier and rougher as he chased his own release with you.

“Cum all over my cock, yeah? I’m gonna fill you up, baby. ” Trent babbled as you nodded. Everythiwent white, you felt a part cumming, your body aching, your eyes squeezing shut again. You were gasping as Trent fucked you through your high.

“T…baby” you moaned, feeling his release beginning to paint your insides. He gripped you so tightly, holding you completely flush against him. He stilled, pumping you full with his cum while pressing his lips to yours the way he usually did.

“That’s my good girl.” he said as he laid on top of you completely spent as you both breathed heavily, whispering I love yous back and forth.

“I genuinely believed I knew what turf felt like until right now.” Trent laughed into your warm skin. Hiding in your neck collapsed still breathing heavily.

“And I genuinely believe that turf should never be in the places it is in right now.” You cooed trying to keep a straight face but couldn’t. You fell into a giggle with him. He rolled off you and to the side pulling you back into his arms. Your eyes fluttered closed momentarily as you leaned further into Trent’s sweaty body while you tried to regain your composure post orgasm. He hummed kissing your hair repeatedly. “I want to cuddle all night.” You whispered to Trent softly running your thumb over his high cheekbone inspecting his perfectly smooth skin once you came back to.

“Out here?” He questioned you with a sly grin, knowing 100% that is not what you meant. His back now on the grass, he became well aware of what you must’ve been feeling for the past 45 minutes and he definitely didn’t want to stay the way he was.

“No, obviously not.” You quipped with an eye roll and light teasing tap to his cheek. “I just meant with you. Cuddle with you, T, baby.” You whispered to him. You nuzzled your nose against his cheek before pressing a kiss to it.

“No one is stopping you, beautiful.” He responded turning his head from his upwards gaze at the falling night to look at you. He fell into a smile and kissed your lips.

“Can you retire early? We can just do this every day.” You giggled giving him a begging pout wrapping your arms around his waist a little tighter.

“A few things, pretty girl. We’re not doing this again, let alone everyday.” He replied and your face dropped into a dramatic pout. He kissed you again to remove it. “Alright, I’d do it again…but it’s not an everyday thing. This is horrible to lay on. The other thing, sorry to disappoint but I actually like my job, beautiful. Don’t really want to stop just yet even though I would love to spend everyday with you.” He cooed sweetly pushing a fallen strand of your hair behind your ear.

“I’m was just joking, T. You know that. I’m so proud of you. I want you to play as long as you can. I get severe anxiety every match but it’s still amazing.” You cooed, kissing his shoulder looking back at him in admiration.

“I know, I know. I’m sorry for the nerves, baby. I love having you there though. Knowing your behind me is the best thing.” He smiled at you and kissed your forehead before looking to grab both your hands and lacing them with his. He sat up dragging you with him to stand up. “Alright. I’ve had enough practice out here with footie and you, we’re moving the session inside.” He cooed, wrapping his arm around your shoulders pulling you into him.

“Bedroom session?” You asked, inquiring for more of him, raising your brow with a smirk. He kissed your hair and hummed in agreement. You walked inside the house and took a deep breath seeing a few toys of Teddy’s on the carpet and Trent’s trainers in the stairs, a glass you had left on the coffee table.

“It’ll be fine you know.” Trent spoke to you moving behind you and massaging your shoulders with his big hand in an effort to relieve the stress that just caused your muscles to tense. He watched your eyes dart around the place compiling a list of all the things you’d want to fix before tomorrow.

“I know. I don’t want to like ‘pretend’ or make it seem like we live any other way. I love our home. I love it being lived in. I’m just nervous about what they’ll think.” You confessed sheepishly. Tomorrow was the big day Bentley Brown from GQ was scheduled to come over to your house for his interview with you. Trent would be at training so you were pretty apprehensive about doing it, being in an interview with a major publication was terrifying. You didn’t know how it really would work. Being home on your own for it made you slightly more nervous. You’d never done an interview like this with Trent and certainly never alone but having him there would’ve been a comfort. You were scared.

•

Thank you for reading! Please like, comment, or message what you think of the chapter 🤍

Next part - Chapter 27 xx

[lj-lephemstar]

Progress Checkup! (Nov. 2024) | Scratchin' Melodii Devlog

​​Hey again guys! Sorry if it's been a bit since the last devlog. With how much I've been up to, it sure feels like it!

Let's get right into it. For starters, the 3rd rival battle of Act 2 is complete! I'll likely be showing a gameplay preview of it sometime soon. This is the first song to use the new framework that I'll be using for all the other stages going forward, which also means I've had to spend the past couple weeks getting the previous songs working with this new system too... Did you know that in the demo builds, if I wanted to change something about the gameplay, I'd have to manually go back and change it for EACH individual song one by one? Well now, imagine all the songs had like a peace treaty to just share one good, clean, and organized system that I can easily tweak and add to as I please. So development is gonna be smoother than ever from here! This is how most games are SUPPOSED to work, but I was a liiittle too stupid to figure out how to do this until recently!

While I was moving Cream Cheese Icing over to this new system, I took the opportunity to make the chart a bit more beginner-friendly! For example, the first line went from this...

To just this!

As you can see, it has less notes, therefore it is less scary for new players. Believe it or not, I actually never intended for Cream Cheese Icing to be so difficult for new players in the first place! Naturally, being too good at my own game can make gauging the difficulty curve a bit tricky at times, but I think I'm figuring it out!​

You may have also noticed that the characters have new UI icons too! I felt like the old ones were too flat and boring, so I did a new take on them, aiming for more dynamic shapes and angles, not to mention how my art style's just kinda grown a bit in general since I last drew the icons. I also ended up leaving out the circles behind them. I was a little worried I was gonna run out of unique colors for all of them at some point, plus SOME of these guys can have really big hair and/or hats that pretty much just cover up the whole circle anyway. (hi rensa)

Speaking of artwork, here's a little look at some of the updated animation I've done for Stir & Mix! (Try to imagine it in not highly-compressed-gif-form. I promise it looks better in-game!)

When working on Stir & Mix related stuff, I can't help but feel a bit of a sense of dread knowing how people may react to it... Honestly, sometimes I kinda wish it never got as popular as it did in 2022. But hey, doing my own thing regardless of what's expected of me is the most Scratchin' Melodii thing I could do!

Speaking of which, Mia learned a ton of new stuff while doing the VOCALOID tuning for the last rival battle we worked on, so we might revisit Stir & Mix's vocals again at some point before release to give it even more style! (By the way, Mia and 2cada are the same person! Sorry if I refer to both names interchangeably! She's been the one doing all the VOCALOID tuning and vocal mixing for the game since 2023.)

Well, I think that's all for now! Here's another friendly reminder that there will NOT be anymore demos of the game. Any new content will be saved for the full game's release. I know I've said it before, but I probably won't stop saying it until people stop getting confused about it LOL. Thanks for reading!! I appreciate you. - LJ

[sweetkpopmusings]

stray kids soulmate aus | h. hyunjin <3

a/n: eeeeeee my favorite kind of aus: soulmate aus!!! i was going to put all of the boys' pieces in the same post, but i could not resist writing more than a short blurb for them, so they are each getting their own post :,-) i'll add links to each of their names as i post these ! i'm not doing them in any particular order, but it felt right to start with the love of my life, hyunjin <33 pics not mine~

content: fluff, soulmate au | wc: 1.3k | warnings: none! | pairing: soulmate!hyunjin x gn!reader | requests: open

♡ chan | minho | changbin | hyunjin | jisung | felix | seungmin | jeongin ♡

each soulmate has half a quote that is important to their relationship tattooed on their body.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

hyunjin rubbed his fingers over that one spot on his collarbone. i remember we broke into. i remember we broke into. i remember we broke into. those words, the half of a whole, were the only tie he had to you. touching that engraving on his flesh was the closest he could come to being held by you, and he craved that comfort the most when his heart raced like this. 

today was the kind of day hyunjin wished would wrap up sooner than later. he knew it wouldn’t, not when the sun had only recently risen and his day had started hours ago. days like this, full of schedules, full of practice, full of work, full of stress–these were the days that went on forever. adrenaline and caffeine buzzed through his body. hyunjin was ready to race through the day, fully aware that his limbs would ache at the finish line, leaving him with nothing to do but collapse into rest as soon as it was over. 

i remember we broke into. i remember we broke into. i remember we broke into. 

hyunjin had missed chan calling his name five times, forcing his eyes to turn in the general direction of chan’s whereabouts when he finally replied, “yeah?”

“we are going to the convenience store. want to come with?”

chan’s question came out as more of a suggestion, and hyunjin did not need much convincing to get a change of scenery. he caught up with his members, walking quickly at the back of the group, his feet falling on the ground in a steady beat of i remember we broke into. maybe the stress had his mind too jumbled to be down on earth. maybe he was lost in questions of what in the world the other half of that quote could be. maybe he was annoyed that he forgot to bring his good sunglasses on a day the sun was shining brightly. maybe he simply yearned for his bed and a break. regardless of the reason, something preoccupied hyunjin, which caused him to bump his shoulder against someone else’s body. 

“ah!” hyunjin grabbed his shoulder.

“i’m sorry! are you okay?”

one of your hands clasped the shoulder with which you had hit hyunjin. in your other hand, you held something that captured all of hyunjin’s attention: a banana man plushie, fitted with a deadpan expression and a bright yellow hoodie. hyunjin, without registering much else of the situation, burst out laughing. you were surprised by this, to say the least. however, once you followed his gaze and saw that he couldn’t take his eyes off your friend’s birthday gift in your hand, you burst into laughter yourself. that banana man, in that moment, was the funniest thing in the world. you and hyunjin knew that for a fact when you felt your stomachs cramp and ache from the laughter. the way that you two were giggling and fighting for air was nothing short of contagious, so all the people walking around you started to believe that the plushie was top-tier entertainment. not that either of you noticed, when all of your attention was focused on something special between you.

hyunjin took a gasp of air he desperately needed. while the banana man was captivating, he looked toward the source of the laughter that mixed so sweetly with his own, and he found you.   for the first time that day, his eyes completely focused on the world in front of him. hyunjin couldn’t look away, and, heart fluttering with a joy and excitement he didn’t quite understand, he smiled and savored the sound of your final chuckles. after you caught your breath, you absentmindedly massaged the point of contact on your shoulder, and you waited for hyunjin to answer your previous question. he stared at you, confusion furrowing his brow slightly, until he felt a small pang in his shoulder and remembered you two had just crashed into each other. 

“yeah, yeah, i–i am. sorry, are you..are you okay?”

you nodded, endeared by his light laughs lingering in the air, the way he stumbled over words as he caught his breath, and his brown eyes. there was a pause, so you moved your hand away from your shoulder to grab your bag, though you had absolutely no intention to leave. something held you there; this moment between you and the beautiful boy in front of you wasn’t meant to end yet (or, at least, you weren’t ready for it to). unbeknownst to you, that simple movement of your hand revealed a tattoo just like hyunjin’s. the words were different, but the script, placement, size, and even the slant of it beneath your collarbone was a mirror image of the words hyunjin carried on his body.

laughter when we saw each other.

hyunjin’s heart raced.

laughter when we saw each other. 

his pulse found a new rhythm, one his mind fell perfectly into step with, as his eyes danced across each letter on your skin.

laughter when we saw each other. laughter when we saw each other. laughter when we saw each other.

hyunjin’s jaw dropped. you looked back at the wide-eyed man, unsure as to why you telling him that you were okay after your collision was shocking news.

“i remember we broke into laughter when we saw each other,” hyunjin said softly.

you heard him perfectly clear, though you weren’t entirely sure what he meant by that, so you teased him, “we did just see each other, so i hope you’d remember that.”

he smiled, another quick laugh falling from his lips as he moved his shirt collar to reveal the words on his collarbone, “i remember we broke into laughter when we saw each other.”

now your jaw dropped, “oh my god.”

a flurry of butterflies unleashed in hyunjin’s stomach because he couldn’t believe how cute you looked when shock and wonder filled your expression, but he managed to ask, “do you know what it’s from?”

“no, i–”

your answer was interrupted by chan calling out hyunjin’s name. hyunjin whipped his head toward him, signaled with a wave of his hand that he’d be there shortly, and returned his attention to you. you stared at his collarbone, seeing the tattooed words clearly, despite the fabric of his shirt covering them. he giggled as he reached his hand out to you, a new contact page opened on his phone.

without having to think, you accepted the phone and typed in your number, “i don’t think i’ve heard that before.”

“well, i have to go back to work, but would you be able to look it up and send me what you find?”

“of course,” your fingertips brushed against his when you handed the phone back, and you smiled brightly in response to the soft electricity.

“i’m hyunjin.”

“i’m y/n.”

he inhaled as though he were smelling freshly baked bread, and serenity washed over him, “i’ll see you soon, y/n.”

“i sure hope so, with us being soulmates and all.”

he laughed as he waved goodbye, and you laughed as you watched him walk away. i remember we broke into laughter when we saw each other.

unable to resist the temptation, you stepped out of the flow of pedestrians and typed those words into the search bar. Ada Limón’s “What I Didn’t Know Before” popped up immediately. reading the last four lines over and over again, you felt butterflies swarm your stomach and certainty rush through your heart.

“I remember we broke into laughter / when we saw each other. What was between / us wasn't a fragile thing to be coddled, cooed / over. It came out fully formed, ready to run."

this poem was, without a doubt in your mind, the correct solution to the question you had been asking your whole life. you also knew, without a doubt in your mind, hyunjin was the right person to hold your heart, after it had been calling out to someone from its first beat. you sent hyunjin a link to the poem, holding on tightly to the banana man plushie as you walked toward your next destination.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

[couldawouldashoulda50]

From Completely Different Worlds - The Sweden Chapter - Part Six

Previous parts 1 2 3 4 5 In continuation of @misshoneyimhome's birthday celebration, here is Part 6 of The Sweden Chapter

A/N - I had some fun writing this part which is a little indulgent but I feel it also lends itself to some important and intimate moments between William and Loren. I hope you like it.

Warnings - profanity, alcohol consumption (not excessive), general smut (oral m and f receving, sex (p in v)) Images of Loren belong to Laura Celia

Word count - approx 9k

18+ only please - jumps in right under the cut.

"Mmmmph… Loren…"

"Oui?"

"Fuck… grrrmph… Loren… uuurgrmph… uuurgrmph… don't stop… don't stop…"

William's legs shot straight out as he grasped Loren's hair. Her lips held his shaft still as her tongue swirled repeatedly around the tip of William's cock.

"Mmmmmmmm…" Loren let out a long moan which barely could be heard over the guttural groan from William as he unloaded into her mouth. She continued with the same motion over his tip until William's body started to jolt from the stimulation.

With a slight air of satisfaction mixed with a touch of disappointment, she sensed that it might be a little too much for him to keep going for another round. That's how much Loren loved sucking William's cock… the first round was just an "amuse-bouche" (couldn't resist the pun). Oftentimes, much to William's good fortune and delight, Loren wasn't satiated until he came at least once more. He didn't question the whys of the love Loren had for giving him blow jobs… he just did his best to make sure he reciprocated—often. Truth be told, he loved making her squirm just as much as she enjoyed watching his muscles spasm as he came.

"Holy fuck—I saw stars for a minute…" William pressed his palms against both eyes and exhaled a long breath, still reeling from his orgasm. He laid his head back on the settee, and said with a chuckle "So… this—this is Loren in Paris, hmm?"

Loren was busy kissing the softer area on William's torso. "This is Loren anywhere in the world when she has William Nylander all to herself in a locked room," she mumbled, lips still pressed against his skin. "But yes, Paris does add a certain something…"

Loren remained kneeling between William's splayed thighs, running her hands along his chiseled legs and up his chest. William moaned softly with each butterfly kiss Loren pressed against his skin, his fingers gently smoothing her hair as he kept his eyes closed and head tilted back.

William and Loren had only arrived in Paris a handful of hours prior to that moment, and already he was immersed in complete bliss.

As she gracefully rose to stand, William gently pulled her on top of him, guiding her into a cozy straddle. Loren looked down at his stunning face and was momentarily awestruck with his masculine beauty. She felt so lucky - it was almost bewildering to think what her life had looked like for the past handful of years, to where she was at that very second.

She smiled softly as her hands gently cradled his face, her one thumb lightly ran along his upper lip feeling the texture of that moustache—the one that few men could sport and make it look as good as only William could. She lowered her mouth first onto one cheekbone, and then the other. She continued down along his jawline, under his chin to his neck whispering "Thank you" in between the last few kisses. She kept whispering her appreciation as visiting Paris was a distant goal she set long into her future. William had now made it a reality for her.

As she kissed him tenderly down his neck, savoring the taste of his skin and his arms around her, William felt he needed to convey more of his appreciation to Loren. He already had developed deep feelings for her, but with the way she enriched his life, it made him feel like he needed to express something more meaningful towards her. Loren had shown him more patience, compassion, and understanding than he could hope for - and all of this even before knowing what they even were together. Her actions, regardless if they were big or small, were genuine and true and given freely with no hint of an ulterior motive.

Even the moments Loren would consider insignificant, William cherished them deeply. The times when she often would surprise William with small tokens when she used to visit him in the city—usually food-related items which stemmed from their casual conversations. Though she'd often downplay her gifts, saying "it's not much," William had to remind her that her thoughtfulness was the thing that held all the value in the world.

William found himself thinking about their potential future together. Given his career and personal needs, he wondered if he could ever truly express his gratitude for the devotion and support he knew Loren would bring into his life.

Paris, he hoped, was a good beginning. William had a few ideas of places he wanted to take her—a dinner here, an excursion there—but the rest of the City of Lights was entirely at Loren’s fingertips.

He had already witnessed her awestruck expression when they landed at Charles de Gaulle Airport. She had nearly held his hand too tightly as she took in every sight from the limo window, chatting animatedly with the driver, an older gentleman who seemed equally charmed by her. Each time William watched her experience something new—whether it was a novel sushi restaurant, the way she doted on him the first night he stayed at her house, or her excitement while touring around Stockholm—he found he could never tire of her reactions. She was so expressive, brimming with interest and gratitude, that his cheeks often ached from the wide smiles she constantly brought to his face.

William smoothed his hand up her back as she remained straddling his lap. “It’s the least I could do…. with you coming here and everything. I just couldn’t….” William softly moaned with a light chuckle as Loren switched to the other side of his neck, kissing a trail down across the ridge of muscle along his shoulder “….couldn’t stop…fuck - couldn’t stop thinking how much I missed you.”

Although she never articulated it verbally, William knew she had missed him too. He sensed it every time she returned his gaze - she communicated volumes with her eyes alone.

Continuing to kiss and caress his neck with her lips, Loren’s hand made its way from William’s partially bare chest to the nape of his neck as her fingers played with the longer strands of his hair on the back of his head.

She kissed him tenderly on the forehead, torn between her desire to continue expressing her gratitude and her concern about overdoing it. Loren's glance drifted from William past the opening of the French doors to the red flowers that cascaded over the railings of their private terrace.

For Loren, everything within her line of sight felt so profoundly special; she tried to absorb every detail and reveling in the beauty of her surroundings. For the next few days, she and William would call the luxurious Imperiale Suite their home. The suite boasted breathtaking views of the Arc de Triomphe and the Champs-Élysées, with the Eiffel Tower gracing the horizon. Loren had to swallow back her emotions more than once to keep her composure in the sheer disbelief of where she was—and with whom. This was the most breathtaking and romantic gesture anyone had ever done for her; it truly felt like a dream.

Now that the hangover of the Summer Olympics had passed, and the oppressive heat wave the the city had been experiencing, the rain that evening was very much welcomed. What was also welcomed with the rain was the option to either stay within the perimeter of the hotel, or better yet, the perimeter of their lavish accommodations.

As the dinner hour approached, they opted for a light meal via room service. The rest of the evening was open-ended - a relaxing stroll to explore the property's luxury amenities, followed by enjoying signature cocktails at the hotel bar. William was an Aperol Spritz where Loren was the French 75.

And so ended their evening back in their suite, both glowing with the effects of a handful of cocktails and eager to once again express their adoration and affection for one another.

The day following their arrival was nothing short of idyllic. Together, they explored the vibrant streets around their hotel, indulging every sense. A five-minute walk brought them to the towering Arc de Triomphe, and a further twenty minutes led William to his personal mecca—the luxury shops of Dior, Louis Vuitton, and more. Loren was fascinated watching him browse the shelves, marveling at his diverse fashion sense. From shirts to watches to shoes, William’s tastes covered the full spectrum, embracing comfort, functionality, and class.

For William, equal delight came from watching Loren. Hearing her speak French was like listening to a symphony, and seeing her effortlessly engage with everyone they met—each shop clerk, each passerby—filled him with pride. She even managed to enlist a few older tourists for one of her future language video segments, her warm nature putting them instantly at ease.

As they wandered, William was once again reminded of what made Loren unique to him: her quiet modesty. She seemed perfectly content just browsing, occasionally stopping to admire something beautiful before walking away with a casual indifference that made him smile.

Though he appreciated her individual approach to fashion, William wanted Loren to feel free to choose clothing based on her taste, not her budget. Gently, he guided her into a women’s clothing boutique, only to be called outside to take a phone call as Loren wandered past the mannequins and racks of elegant attire.

A few minutes passed and William re-entered the store, giving a nod to the sales associate. He quietly approached Loren from behind, placing his hands on her hips as she looked at the high-end purses and shoes.

“Sorry about that - it was one of my sisters. See anything you like?”

Loren had actually. A pair of strappy sandals with stiletto heels. Every so often, her vice would appear in the form of “come fuck me heels”, and these particular pair were no exception.

She smiled as she ever so slightly leaned back against William. “Those - those sandals,” she said softly enough for William to lean closer to hear her. “With those, I wouldn't have to stand on my tippy-toes when you come after me from behind…”

“Jesus - hey, not fair…you can’t say stuff like that to me in public - you want me rockin’ a semi in the middle of the store?” William groaned lowly into her ear. “You gotta get those heels now - don’t torture me.”

Loren knew she couldn't afford them, but she didn't want to mention it. "Mmm, maybe another time," she said slyly. "Torturing you sounds too tempting to pass up."

“How about you just try them on - for me?” William planted soft kisses on her cheek trying to further persuade her.

Loren playfully rolled her eyes, amused at how easily she gave in to William but it wasn’t hard to understand why. “Fine,” she said, trying to suppress a smile.

Loren made eye contact with the sales associate who had been watching them from a distance. Smiling, the woman approached, her thoughts drifting affectionately to her own wonderful boyfriend, hard at work on the opposite end of the city.

She introduced herself as Odette, and as she spoke, Loren found herself spellbound by her deep, rich voice and heavy French accent.

The three made small talk, and soon Odette mentioned that it would be a crime for Loren to pass up the chance to try the shoes on. With her trained eye, Odette could already tell that Loren’s frame would be beautifully complemented by a tall heel.

After a quick scan of Loren’s cute, casual outfit, Odette asked if she’d humor her—strictly from a professional standpoint, of course—and try the shoes on with a sleek black dress she believed would enhance Loren’s look and truly showcase the sandals.

William’s eyes lit up, and he answered with a resounding “Yes!” before Loren could even open her mouth. She shot him a wide-eyed look before smirking at his enthusiasm, nodding her head in playful defeat as she turned back to Odette.

Odette offered both William and Loren glasses of champagne and disappeared to fetch the shoes and dress. As they waited, William leaned in, asking if there was anything else she liked. Loren chuckled and replied simply, “Everything.”

It was true. Everything in that boutique seemed to call to her, as if each piece could perfectly complement one of her many moods. Spending time with William had awakened her passionate, playful side, and she secretly wished she had the means to expand her wardrobe, especially in the intimates department.

She’d discovered that she felt most confident with sleek, shapely bras and panties beneath her usual work attire. Still, there was a part of her—much like the stilettos she admired—that yearned for sheer teddies, bodysuits, and bustiers, pieces she could “model” before seducing her Swedish lover with her mouth.

Loren’s mind drifted to her favorite new daydream of William in Paris, but she quickly snapped back to reality as Odette returned with the dress and shoes.

Odette poured William another glass of champagne before disappearing behind the velour drapes of the fitting area. Loren surprised Odette by switching to French, first apologizing that she might slip into Quebecois occasionally, and then for potentially wasting her time since she hadn’t planned on making any purchases. The sandals alone were close to a thousand euros, and the dress—though she’d loved it at first sight—was so far beyond her budget that she couldn’t even bring herself to look at the price.

[In French] “Loren, you’re not wasting my time. But your man—boyfriend? Husband?—he seems very keen to see you in these.” Odette smiled, scanning Loren from head to toe. “You have the perfect physique for these shoes. Are you a dancer?” She studied Loren’s frame with a practiced eye. “You have a dancer’s body.”

“I took ballet and other forms when I was young and kept it up until university,” Loren replied with a nostalgic smile.

“Thought so,” Odette said with a wink before exiting the fitting room. “Call if you need me—I’ll be close by.”

Much like the fitting rooms in the boutique Michelle had taken her to in Stockholm, the only mirrors were outside the changing area. Loren slipped out of her casual attire and into the heels and dress. She instantly felt transformed. The luxurious lacey material of the dress was one thing, but the shoes—adding height and accentuating her lean waist, all the way down to her slender ankles—made her feel seductive, sensual, and powerful.

Peeking out from behind the drape, Loren saw William and Odette chatting and waiting patiently. She stepped out and looked at her reflection in the enormous mirror, feeling a blend of excitement and shyness about meeting William’s gaze.

If she had looked his way, she would have seen his eyes light up, a wide grin spreading across his face. Yet even his outward reaction barely captured what he felt on the inside. Though he hadn’t known Loren for long, she had taken root inside him so naturally, so completely, that he was trying to make sense of the stirrings she awakened in him. Inviting her to Stockholm had been an impulsive decision, one that had surprised even him, but he knew it was rooted in more than a simple thank-you for her support during the playoffs. His parents had noticed it, too—they saw something deeper in his eyes when he spoke of her.

It’s no wonder a puzzle is often used as a metaphor for life, with certain people representing essential pieces. Loren was becoming that crucial piece—difficult to find at first, but once in place, bringing everything into focus.

She glanced over at William and Odette with a subtle bashfulness. “I don’t know that I’ve ever gone clothes shopping with a boy before. I feel a little exposed right now,” she chuckled.

William considered making a cheeky comment about how comfortable Loren had become exposing herself to him lately, but seeing her blush, he decided to keep it to himself.

What struck him most in that moment, aside from how disarming she looked, was a familiar expression he’d noticed before—usually when she was concerned about money. She clearly loved how the dress and shoes made her feel, but there was a hint of disappointment in her eyes, knowing they were financially out of reach. She could put them on credit, but Loren would stoically choose the disappointment of not buying something she wanted over the slippery slope of debt. She’d already allowed herself one indulgence at the Stockholm boutique, and that was her limit.

William had begun to recognize her sensitivity around finances and admired her disciplined approach to spending. He also knew how uncomfortable it made her when he offered to pay for—well, anything, really. It was why he’d kept this side trip to Paris a surprise until hours before they left.

In that moment, William decided that sometimes it was better to ask for forgiveness than permission. As Loren retreated into the fitting room, he approached Odette with a favor.

---

"Wakey-wakey, Sleeping Beauty," William murmured against Loren's shoulder. "There's a delivery here for you."

Loren’s eyes fluttered open, confused, as William rested his lips between her shoulder blades. Normally she would squeal and twist from him even breathing on one of the most ticklish spots on her body, but she was still half asleep and far too relaxed to react to it.

"Is that what we're calling it now?" Loren mumbled against the pillow.

Signature William laughter.

She slowly rubbed her hips back against him. "’Cause if the delivery isn't attached to you, I'm not sure I want it."

"Well, it's not attached to me… this time… but I think you'll like it," William replied with an affectionate squeeze around her waist.

Loren’s hand drifted overtop of William’s and she lifted it towards her mouth for a kiss. “Did you have a good nap?” William asked.

Loren smiled and nodded her head, still lightly kissing and stroking his fingers. “

“Good - I’ve got something planned for dinner tonight so we need to start getting ready.” William slid off the bed “But don’t get out of bed just yet - be right back.”

She sat up and adjusted the pillow against the headboard as she tucked the sheet under her arms. Seconds later, William returned with two shopping bags, both with the logo of Odette’s boutique.

Loren’s eyes widened instantly and darted toward William, momentarily stunned.

“William - what did you do?” Loren gasped in amazement as William extracted a shoe box from the first bag.

She lifted the lid from the box, and her eyes fell upon the stilettos she’d fallen for but reluctantly left behind in the store that morning. Her hand flew to her mouth, covering her gasp of surprise.

William knew she’d struggle to process his gesture. Loren was wired to be a giver, not a receiver, and he could already sense the gears turning in her head, likely crafting objections to—then gently rejecting—his gifts.

Before she could speak, he pulled out a second shoebox. With a grin, he explained that his plans for the evening involved a bit of walking, and although he’d gladly throw her over his shoulder (as he’d done effortlessly in the past), a lower heel might be more practical.

Loren had no idea what William had in mind. She knew he’d spoken with his sister—or sisters—throughout the day, though she wasn’t sure if it was one, some, or all of them. Whatever it was, William seemed incredibly excited.

She opened the second shoebox to find a pair of gorgeous leather slingbacks. Carefully, she lifted one shoe from the box, gazing at it before looking back at him, her voice soft.

“William—this is too much. I don’t know if I can accept these.”

“Look, Loren, I know you have this thing about letting people do nice things for you... but just this once, let me, okay?” He nodded toward the slingbacks. “Do you like them? Odette—yes, Odette, the saleswoman—suggested them, so if you don’t, blame her,” he chuckled.

Loren leaned close, her face just inches from his. “I love them… William, they’re beautiful. Let me throw something on, and I’ll take them for a spin.” She kissed him deeply, murmuring, “Thank you,” as her lips moved slowly from his.

She slinked off the mattress, naked, while William whistled appreciatively as she retrieved her bra and panties from their haphazard places—her bra draped over the corner of a chair and her panties at the foot of the bed.

“Wait—there’s something else… open the other bag,” William said with a grin.

Loren quickly fastened her bra, then eyed the larger bag, approaching the bed slowly, her gaze fixed on William as her face flushed with excitement.

William helped her pull a large, glossy box from the bag. Inhaling deeply, he lifted the lid and peeled back the smooth tissue paper. Inside lay a long, pale yellow satin gown, shimmering softly. Loren gasped, bringing her hands to her mouth as she recognized it. Although she hadn’t mentioned the dress to William or Odette, he somehow knew it had caught her eye while browsing.

Her eyes met his, filled with a mix of deep appreciation and hesitation. She ran her fingers gently over the smooth fabric. “William, I… I don’t know how to say thank you for all of this…” She glanced at the shoes, then back at William. “But are you sure? It’s just… it’s so much.”

He knew he had to choose his words carefully. Saying “It’s no big deal” might diminish the value of all the hard work Loren put into every dollar she earned.

“How about you try everything on—if it fits the way it’s supposed to, if it’s anything like I’ve pictured… that’s all the thanks I could want.”

Loren tilted her head to the side, flashing him a wide grin full of gratitude. As she lifted the dress from the box, her eyes sparkled with anticipation. She draped it gently beside the slingbacks—the stilettos would be for later.

In front of the bathroom mirror, Loren slipped the gown over her head, marveling at the feel of the smooth, luxurious fabric against her skin. She watched as the satin hem drifted to the floor, and she slowly ran her hands along the gown’s elegant sheen. When she looked up, she was taken aback by her reflection—the shade of yellow perfectly highlighted her bronzed skin, and the dress hugged her curves flawlessly. She suddenly understood why Odette had taken her measurements so mysteriously in the fitting room; it hadn’t even crossed her mind to question it. If only Odette could see her now.

Loren swept her hair up into a clip, slid on the neutral-colored shoes, then paused just as she reached for the door. Closing it quietly, she slipped out of the dress, hanging it gently on the back of the bathroom door. She returned to the bedroom in only her undergarments and heels, crawling wordlessly on top of William, who was still relaxing on the bed.

“Did it—did it turn invisible when you tried it on? I don’t see it,” he teased, grinning.

“I wanted to be completely ready before you see it on me… but it is—by far—the most beautiful dress I have ever seen in my life,” she whispered before kissing him, slow and deep.

William moaned into her mouth, running his hands from her ass up to her sides. One hand circled the nape of her neck under her long hair as he kissed her fervently down her neck. It was one of the may ways that William could render Loren completely defenseless as she yearned for him to fuck her once more before getting ready for their evening.

But this time, William had the one thread of self-control they needed to stop the kissing and dry-humping and get a move on and get ready for their evening amongst the City of Lights.

William found himself thoroughly entertained as he watched Loren pad back and forth between the bedroom and bathroom, following her going-out routine. She moved so elegantly, almost as if she were floating instead of walking. He loved how naturally they navigated around each other without needing to fill the space with words. Sometimes, he’d play music as they dressed, and it amazed him how she seemed to know the lyrics to just about every song.

He slid into his suit jacket and was adjusting his shirt collar when Loren stepped out from the bedroom in the dress. She had taken his breath away many times before, but this time, William was left completely speechless.

Satin could be an unforgiving material, but on Loren, it highlighted every sumptuous curve. William couldn’t help but to lean back a little to get a good look at her ass in the dress - as beautiful as she looked from the front, the back of that dress made his mind wander.

Watching his reflection in the mirror, Loren caught his rather indiscreet gaze as she slid the back onto her earring. So, she mimicked him, leaning back and taking a nice long look at William’s ass in return.

Sauntering up to him, she purred “Yours is better - it’s professionally sculpted - a total work of art…fit for the Louvre,” sliding her hands around his waist and then resting them on his ass.

William reciprocated, his palms and fingers lightly squeezing the curve of her hips. “You’re gonna have me tongue-tied all night if you keep this up… I can’t even find the right words for how beautiful you look.”

Loren kissed him slowly, feeling the heat building between her legs—a familiar pull that made her want to skip their plans and keep William with her, wrapped up in each other, all night.

What a hardship, William thought, smirking. Going out or staying in really didn’t matter in the long run; with Loren, everything felt brighter, more fun, as though even the simplest moments held a new light. He knew there were still things he had yet to learn about her, and he was hopeful that, with time and gentle coaxing, she would reveal her true vulnerabilities to him, just as he would to her.

As they exited the suite, William kept a few paces behind, admiring her as she strolled down the corridor. The layers of her hair swished gently down her back, her dress hugging her curves with every step. Loren’s unassuming yet wildly sexy movements stirred something deep within him, bringing back memories of gathering up her hair as he moved against her. A knowing smile crept across his face.

What a hardship indeed.

—

As William and Loren meandered along avenue George, walking off their delectable dinner, he suddenly stopped in front of a beautiful, eclectic theater. Loren nearly screamed, jumped, and fainted all at once when her eyes landed on the gleaming gold letters that spelled “Crazy Horse Paris.”

She had never breathed a word to William—or anyone close by—about her dream of seeing one of the most iconic cabaret shows in Paris, and now here she was, standing in front of her own mecca. Overwhelmed with emotion, Loren turned to William, almost disbelieving how this Parisian fairytale he’d created for her kept getting better.

Without warning, she leapt into his arms, hugging him tightly. He was caught a bit off guard, as it had actually been his sister Jackie’s spontaneous idea to bring Loren here. But hearing Loren explain that Crazy Horse was a top-three item on her bucket list made him feel even more thrilled about the surprise, even if he didn’t know much about it himself.

Their first encounter inside was with two men dressed as Canadian Mounties at the entrance, making Loren stifle a squeal as they stepped through the gold-lined doors.

Inside, murals of women in ‘70s-style artwork adorned the walls—it was like stepping into a time machine, with red carpet underfoot, chrome pillars, and floor-to-ceiling mirrors all around. As they descended the stairs to the main lounge, Loren and William took in the sight of the blue-breasted wall lining the staircase and provocative photos displayed throughout. William was quickly realizing—between the naked statues and sketches of scantily clad women on the menu—that this was going to be far from a typical night out.

They found their cozy booth amid a sea of other red booths, each with its own cocktail table. Several tables featured a lit centerpiece that illuminated the clear ice bucket perched atop it, complete with a chilled bottle of champagne. William had been to countless places in his life, but he couldn’t recall ever setting foot in one quite like this. The ambiance had a sultry, seductive undertone, and with Loren by his side, looking absolutely stunning, he felt certain this would be a night to remember.

The dress code suggested elegant attire, and while most guests opted for casual, a few—like William and Loren—had embraced their chic side. Servers and staff made a point of complimenting those dressed in shimmering sequins and tailored suits. To Loren, an avid people-watcher, this was as captivating as a trendy Paris fashion show.

A server approached to uncork the vintage champagne, quickly falling into an animated conversation with them. She poured each of them a glass and complimented how ravishing they looked, even asking if they were fashion models. Before William could answer, Loren pointed to him and said, “Ah, oui—this one is a model and so much more.” The two women exchanged a knowing glance and flashed William a mischievous smile. After a few more cheeky remarks—not entirely at his expense—the server left, and William jokingly told Loren she’d be going over his knee when they were alone again.

“Vraiment? Really… well, good. Plan’s working then,” Loren replied with a wink.

William leaned closer, sliding his arm around her waist. She felt the warmth of his hand on her hip as she nestled against him. “We should toast something,” he murmured, pressing soft kisses to her shoulder.

Loren’s cheeks flushed pink. “There are so many things I can think of,” she said, almost bashfully. “How about… l’amour fou…”

He smiled, clinking his glass with hers, and repeated the words softly against her cheek.

As they started their second glass of champagne, the house lights dimmed, and the Master of Ceremonies, the infamous George Bangable, appeared.

To Loren, George was as iconic as the establishment itself. His smooth voice was reminiscent of the famous crooners, complete with his dark, slicked back hair and razor thin moustache; he oozed Parisian style. He quickly spotted Loren and William and approached them as he playfully swayed his hips singing the Cha-Cha. William smiled but secretly hoped George wouldn’t pay him any attention, while Loren was beaming as she fixated on the charismatic emcee, her hand resting on William's thigh as she subtly swayed to the music. Before George moved on to work the rest of the room, he mouthed the words “magnifique” and “oh la la” while pointing at their attire.

William glanced at Loren as George glided up the steps, leaning in with a smile. “So, what do you think so far?” he asked.

“I can’t even describe how incredible this is - absolutely unforgettable. Probably the best night of my life.” Loren’s voice was think with emotion, and she hoped it was subtle enough that William would not pick up on it. She swallowed, feeling a lump in her throat. She placed her hand over his which rested warmly on her hip. “Saying thank-you doesn’t even begin to cover it, even if I said it a million times.”

William could feel every ounce of appreciation within her words, her tone. He leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to her shoulder, his hand resting on the curve of her hip. “I’m just glad I get to do this for you,” he said softly.

Loren looked at him, her face glowing under the red lights. “Don’t think that I won’t use every idle second my brain has to try and think of a few special ways to say it. And - I don’t want you to worry either,” she smiled. “This will be fun for you, too. You just don’t know it yet.”

William raised an eyebrow, casting a skeptical glance at the stage. With Mr. Bangable crooning away, he doubted the night was really his kind of thing.

Upon the third glass of champagne and with the stage lights dimmed, William found out just how wrong he was.

Dressed in nothing more than tall, bearskin hats and military-style boots, the line of exquisite dancers began one of their signature acts - a cheeky and explicit military-themed routine. With their shoulders back, and eyes forward, the performers moved completely in sync until there was a hint of a sly smile at an audience member or an extra little kick of a heel that added to some playfulness within the performance.

Loren glanced over at William and caught him watching, mouth slightly agape. She giggled, giving his thigh a gentle squeeze. “I told you so.”

William shook his head, grinning. “Somehow, I think you’d fit right in up there,” he said, his gaze lingering on her face.

Loren shook her head as a bashful smile spread across her lips as William’s words simply thrilled her.

It was no surprise that once William and Loren exited the theatre once the performance was over, they wasted no time with finding a taxi to take them back to the hotel. The glamourous burlesque-style performance was artistic and seductive and seemingly was an effective, albeit unexpected aphrodisiac for William. With long toned legs, graceful figures and perky breasts on full display for most of the night, it made William all the more anxious to get Loren back to the suite and worship every inch of her beauty.

—

Loren stepped out of the bathroom wrapped in the plush hotel robe with a black lace camisole and pantie set on underneath. She almost floated over to the bed, her hair swept up with loose strands that framed her face. William lay stretched on the bed, a fresh spread of strawberries and chocolate was set at the foot of the mattress on a silver platter. Another bottle of champagne chilled in a ice-bucket on a table close by.

Loren wasn’t exactly drunk, but she wasn’t entirely sober either as her gaze fell on the champagne flutes.

William, meanwhile, wasn’t exactly drunk, but he certainly wasn’t sober as his eyes settled on Loren.

“If I have any more champagne, you might get an embarrassingly sloppy personal burlesque show,” she teased, opening her robe slightly. She stood at attention, brought her shoulders back, raised herself onto the balls of her feet and struck a similar pose to the dancers at Crazy Horse.

William let out a chuckle—not from humor, but from pure disbelief. She was so elegant, so disarming, that the laugh left him involuntarily because well, what else could he do.

Loren blushed and giggled, covering her face—mostly from still being tipsy enough to think she could pass as a cabaret girl in front of William. She slinked onto the bed as he reached for the platter and slid it between them. Choosing the most perfect-looking strawberry, he dangled it mischievously just above Loren's lips. She played along, gently wrapping her hand around his to prevent him from teasingly pulling his hand away. Loren couldn’t resist teasing William in return as she ran her tongue along the tip of the berry before taking a bite. William bit his lip from the desire she ignited in him, and soon his mouth was on hers, his tongue tasting the sweet traces of strawberries on hers.

Before they were swept away in the moment, William told Loren to “hold that thought”, moving off the bed and over to the champagne. With a loud pop, William slid the cork out and filled two glasses to bring back to bed.

Loren’s heart felt like it could explode or soar, or a combination of both as William handed her a glass and slid in next to her. She found him so gorgeous that it was unfair to the rest of humanity. His personality, his humor—his introspective moments and his own curious nature. Add thoughtful and kind, as this one Parisian evening that he curated for her was nothing short of perfect.

However, a pang of unease settled in her stomach. Loren's gratitude and appreciation for William were deep and far beyond what could be expressed with words. But mostly, it was her profound desire to reciprocate his gestures and generosity, knowing that possibility was totally out of reach for her.

With his face deliciously close to hers, William spoke softly. “I’m not good at thinking of toasts - I’m not even sure if you’re supposed to make one every time - like, is it bad luck not to?”

Loren knew William wasn’t one to follow every tradition or superstition, but she was so endeared by him wondering about the etiquette of toasting.

She smiled into his stunning eyes, her expression shifting from attraction to deep appreciation. “I’m not honestly sure if there’s any rules, but I do have something to toast to.” Loren’s eyes lowered as she fixated on the rising bubbles that surfaced in the delicate champagne flute she was holding. She could feel her throat thicken with emotion once again, and bit her lip before speaking. “I’m toasting to you. This… everything you’ve done… it’s been the best night of my life. Truly. I… I don’t even know how I could ever—” She hesitated as she feels her eye prick with tears. “How I could ever pay you back.”

She caught herself, realizing her words did not come out as she intended. “I mean, not ‘pay you back’ exactly. I just—sometimes I wish I could… do for you, what you’ve done for me.”

William’s brows furrowed slightly. “But don’t you think you deserve this? I wanted to do this for you—not just because of… well, everything you did before.” He paused, searching for the right words. “You dropped everything to help me, you came to see me in Sweden… you had every right to tell me to fuck off and you did the opposite. You didn’t have to do any of it, but you did.” William listened to his own words and still could not fathom how Loren gave so freely.

Loren could feel an ache beginning in her chest, but she managed to keep her emotions at bay. “I don’t want it to come off like I feel I’m unworthy—that’s not it at all,” Loren spoke softly, continuing to choose her words carefully. “It’s more that… when someone does something for me, especially something selfless or generous, I feel this deep need to return it, to show them how much I appreciate it.” Her voice wavered just slightly, but she kept her gaze steady, determined to convey what she felt without breaking down.

William simply listened, but he could feel how hard this was for her to convey.

But when she spoke of her parents, the tears welled up in her eyes as she continued to avert William’s gaze.

“I think part of that comes from the humiliation of having to watch my parents step in when I was in trouble once my ex left. They had to take over the loan I co-signed so he could get the truck he wanted. They weren’t angry with me - they just reminded me to have gratitude that they had the means to help.” Loren tried to discreetly wipe away the tears that had fallen.

William listened in silence, his heart twisted as she continued. “And then, later on, I was sitting across from this woman at the bank who could tell something was off with him from the moment she first saw him. When I was at risk of missing a mortgage payment, she extended my overdraft just to help me get by. She did that out of pure kindness.”

She paused, still looking downward while gathering her thoughts. “I don’t forget things like that. Those kinds of gestures stick with me. And I want to be able to do the same for the people who’ve helped me, to do things for them in a way that shows how much I value what they did. It’s… weird maybe - it’s like I carry around this balance sheet, always thinking about nice things I can do for them, ways to “repay” them even if they never expected anything in return.”

Embarrassed that she let her emotions get the better of her, Loren suddenly shifted using the back of her free hand to wipe the streak of tears from around her nose. “Great way to end a perfect day,” she sniffed, letting out an awkward chuckle as she tried to laugh it off.

William motioned for her to hand him her champagne, and he set both glasses down on his nightstand. He turned back towards her and soon was kissing her, soft, deep and passionately. For William, this actually felt like a breakthrough with Loren. She always seemed so poised and in control, but these moments when she let her guard down, revealing her vulnerabilities—these were the memories that stayed with him the most. Secretly, he often wondered if he could ever live up to her level of goodness in how she conducted herself. But the fact that she trusted him to share more about what goes on in her mind, meant more to him than anything tangible.

The kisses they shared only deepened, full of tenderness and a new level of connection and understanding. Their movements were slow and deliberate, communicating solely through touch and the intensity of their fixed gazes.

Words were certainly unnecessary. The warmth of every touch and caress conveyed their need for one another. They studied each other’s expressions, and through their eyes, they further connected in moments of both unadulterated bliss and playful smiles.

It was well past midnight, but time was totally irrelevant as William took the lead, with solitary goal of pleasuring Loren endlessly.

As strikingly beautiful as she looked in the lacy set she wore to bed, William reveled equally in her beauty as he gingerly slid off her panties and unclasped her bra. Loren’s eyes lit up when William’s cock was in her line of sight as he momentarily straddled her torso. But his position was short lived as he grabbed a strawberry from the nearby platter, and bit the end off while smirking at Loren. With the fleshy part of the berry exposed between his teeth, he repositioned himself and hovered above her body. He slid the berry starting from her sternum towards the hardened peak of her nipple. Between the cool and juicy softness of the mashed strawberry and his tongue, he licked and sucked one nipple as his palm firmly caressed the other. The remnants of strawberry juice saturated William’s moustache as he lapped at her other nipple. William took his time, and with every connection between his tongue and mouth to Loren’s nipple, the more pressure she felt between her legs. Her hands roamed his muscular back and shoulders and she began to pull her body more tightly into hers. Her hands then planted firmly on his ass cheeks and she slowly grinded her pussy against his hardening member. He could feel her nails against his skin, not scratching but firmly tracing up and down his flank. Like the rest of her, the way she touched him was electrifying.

Her nipples had become so sensitive that she nearly climaxed when he stroked his flattened tongue against each peak, moaning and writhing against his hips. With every sound and motion, the two edged each other.

Soon, everything slowed as they gazed at each other with complete admiration. Soft words of affection floated between them, each laced with a hint of playful teasing as they lay wrapped in each other’s arms, cherishing the closeness.

It wasn’t long before William decided to move onto the next phase of worshiping her pussy with his mouth. William first opened her legs wide with his hands before Loren took over, elegantly holding her legs open for him. She freed one hand and ran her fingers through his thick mane of hair while he repeatedly flicked his tongue around her clit, coaxing a long moan from her mouth. She pressed her head back into the pillow. The same hand that played with his hair now grazed his hand that had wrapped around her thigh. What started off as slow and seductive licks between her folds was now a barrage of the most gratifying oral maneuvers a woman could hope for. Loren let go of her one thigh and gripped the edge of the mattress as her legs muscles began to quiver. Just as he was about to send her into orbit with his mouth, William slowed right down to a gentle lick and kiss of her clit.

He looked up to see her covering her mouth with one hand, with her other hand still gripping the mattress.

William kissed up her torso, stopping at her breasts and then up along her neck. The tickling hairs from his moustache almost made her squeal, but she managed to keep the noise she made to a low and sultry moan.

Her deep brown eyes connected with his ocean blue gaze, playfully grinning at each other as a new layer of sexual tension ignited between them.

Loren pressed into William once more, biting her lip from the sheer arousal that she felt with him between her legs. William was barely managing to stay in control of his own impulses as he was fully invested in making Loren as horny as he possibly could before succumbing to his own desire to slide his cock deep inside of her.

Loren gently stroked William’s face, wiping the lingering mix of flavours from his upper lip onto her thumb. He caught her hand, kissing down her wrist and back up again before kissing along her jawline.

The two champagne flutes which still remained full on William’s nightstand caught his eye. “You wanna take a break and polish these off?” he asked, nodding towards the glasses.

Loren nodded with a grin as William braced himself on his knees, still positioned between Loren’s legs. She propped herself up as he handed her the flute.

He clinked her glass and they took a long sip. William leaned in and kissed her once more before they emptied the glasses and setting them back in place on the nightstand.

He wasted no time in laying Loren onto her back once more, his eyes hungry and full of desire.

For William, it felt as though every moment they’d spent together in Paris was a form of foreplay. Time with Loren was slipping away far too quickly for his liking—he wanted to slow everything down, to savor every movement, every touch exchanged between them.

Between her legs, William's broad frame moved slowly, rubbing his hardening cock against her. Each kiss was long and full of heated passion as their connection intensified. With every slow grind of their hips, the ache of desire fueled their desperation for one another.

With the tip of his cock covered in Loren's wetness, he slid into her tightness. She whispered "Fuck" with a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. Her hands traveled under William's underarms, down his back, and rested on his ass cheeks as he pressed deep into her. Loren couldn't resist moving her hips beneath the weight of William's body, her need to feel him even deeper driving each hip motion. He began to subtly pump his cock, the slight curve of his shaft connecting his tip to her g-spot. Loren's grip became more firm on his round ass cheeks as she spread herself wider for him. William shifted, his muscular figure forcing Loren's legs to spread wider as he continued to pump firmly and slowly into her. His hands hooked behind her knees, opening Loren further as she moaned desperately for his cock.

While Loren and William often enjoyed a more vigorous and strenuous pace, that evening, the sex was almost tantric. Slow and sensual movements heightened their connection. William penetrated her deeply while their edged each other, elevating their bodily sensations as thought they were experiencing a never-ending orgasm.

William was in awe as he looked down at Loren’s beautiful face. Her eyes were closed, but he could still read every pleasure-filled expression. He watched her mouth fall open one moment, then curve into a soft smile as a gasp escaped from a powerful wave of ecstasy. The way she whisper-moaned his name, the way her arms wrapped around him, pulling him close - Loren affected him in all the best ways he could imagine.

William began buck into Loren more firmly. He braced himself between her legs, his knees sinking into the mattress as his hands slid along her legs and clasped around her slender ankles. He spread her legs wide at first as he drove harder into her. Loren’s soft and low moans sounded like an erotic siren as she stroked her clit. William threw back his head while Loren stroked his shaft we her wetness as he fucked her. He knew he was going to cum soon, but wanted to make Loren’s climax the priority. He reposition himself once again, sliding the backs of her legs against his chest. His frame now hovered over top of her body, his thick thighs spread apart as hips moved fast and firmly, his cock deeply rocking inside of her. Her one leg fell to the side as the other remained hooked over his shoulder as he relentlessly fucked her deep until her orgasm hit her hard, her legs jerking and shaking in the process. Her hands couldn’t figure out whether to hold onto William or grip the sheets as her neck arched back, pressing her head into the mattress. Her long cry of “Fuuuuck” cut through the sounds of heavy breathing as her body felt the urge to twist and contort itself. William held her body in place as he reached the feverish pitch of his own climax, spilling deep into her as his own body jolted with pleasure.

Loren lay motionless beneath William, as she had many times before, lost in a total state of euphoria. He knew this about her—and sometimes teased her for it—knowing she could only smile or let out a soft giggle, utterly incapable of forming a sentence for several minutes. The after-glow moments were among William’s favourite times with Loren. He kissed and stroked her skin, and as he watched her, he couldn’t help but be once again captivated by her. Maybe it was an extra shot to the male ego, but he’d never seen another woman respond to him the way Loren did.

William gently pulled Loren against his chest, knowing she'd want to use the washroom before drifting off to sleep. He spoke softly in her ear, reminding her of her post-sex routine. "Loren, don't fall asleep just yet... Remember the washroom? You don't want to risk an infection." William was aware of how unsexy it sounded, but he had another potential surprise for Loren in mind. A bladder infection—which could have been easily avoided—wouldn't align with his plan.

After Loren returned to bed, she nestled into her favourite spot against William’s chest.

His nails soothingly grazed her shoulder as she completely melted into his body. “Loren? You still awake?”

Loren kissed his chest and nodded her head.

“How would you feel if we didn’t go back to Stockholm for a couple more days?”

She smiled as she nuzzled the coarse hair that covered his pectorals. “You’d like to stay in Paris longer?”

William kissed the top of her head. “Mmmm….well, not Paris…but south of France still.”

Loren shifted so she could look up at William’s profile. All she could do was grin with anticipation.

William chuckled. “Pack your bags, baby….we’re heading to Monaco -we'll be there tonight.”

[ellilyre]

Ive lose the ask asking for my transmasc!Leo headcanon TT but i have them written down so imma post em like that

Leo transmasc headcanon

(many things are based on my own experience. Especially the dysphoria related things (so when i talk about Leo not being a real boy it is what he thinks bc of dysphoria. It’s not true.))

(warning angst angst (but thats Leo so that was expected)

it was so obvious even when he was small. He always wanted to play with boys, wear boys clothes, ect… His mom was fine with it. She bought him boys toys and clothes and even sometimes called him hijo. She was a bit confused, but she knew it made her child happy and it's all that mattered. 

However, it didn’t go that well with his foster homes. However much he tried, they always stuck to his deadname and she/her. That was a big part of the reason he kept running away. 

There really is no story behind the name Leo. He picked that one bc it sounded cool. 

Once he got a good enough passing, he did everything he could so ppl will assume he’s cis.

Don’t ask me how he gots his hands on hrt. It’s a long and weird story.

The wilderness school was very strict about not mixing girls and boys in dorms. 

Piper was his roommate, that’s how they met. 

In their memories created by Hera, Jason has kinda always known he’s trans. So Leo never bothered to hide it from Jason (as he does with others).

But Jason doesn’t have much (any) education on transidentity… At first he assumed Leo was a cis guy, and then some things were a bit confusing (why was he in fem dorms ? Why does he wear a tank top under his shirt ? Did he just ask Piper for a tampon???) but he just kinda gave up on trying to understand, bc Leo is a nice guy anyways. And with time (and exterior knowledge on the matter) he started to put the pieces together and to understand that “ooh ok that makes sense". 

Otherwise. Leo has no desire to get out of his comfortable closet. 

He has such a fragile masculinity 

Sometimes he acts a little bit macho. He’s aware he’s acting like an asshole but he’s terrified of being perceived as feminine. 

Why does he try to flirt with every girl he sees ? Another attempt to pass better (and comfort himself in his fragile masculinity) by copying stereotypical boys' things.

He overbind so much, GODS. Man will wear his binder for 11h straight (while fighting and running around) and then have the audacity to complain that his body hurts.

Piper tries very hard to remind him to take proper breaks. 

Jason is the biggest gender envy ever. He is handsome, tall, muscular… Leo really loves him but he also is so jealous and envious. 

He is very envious of other boys in general. 

When Percy got woken up in the middle of the night and left his cabin shirtless. When Frank went to take a break in the men’s restroom…

Gods, he would do anything to just be a normal boy. To be like them. To have their bodies. To not have to destroy his body to look slightly more masculine. To not have this constant fear that they’re gonna find out. 

And to add to the reasons why he felt so much like the 7th wheel : Among the 7 there are 3 girls, 3 boys… And Leo. Forever inbetween. Not a girl, but not a boy like the others either. 

Fortunately, with time he learnt to accept himself better and to feel more comfortable with others. 

Piper helped him to go easier on himself. And he had an actual proper talk with Jason.

The first person he actually came out to was probably Annabeth, bc she’s cool and wise and nice. 

And then he saw it actually was ok. She didn’t treat him any differently, she didn’t tell anyone else. She was cool with it.

He then told Frank and Hazel, with Piper’s help (mostly to explain to Hazel all those new terms). And it also went very great ! He then also told Percy and Nico. 

He’s not entirely out, just to his closest friends and his siblings at camp. And it’s enough. 

He still overbinds, but he has ppl to (discreetly) remind him to take care of himself. He’s still very dysphoric but his loved ones know how to remind him that he is their brother, an amazing boy.

[hitomisuzuya]

Happy Valentine’s Day! I hope yours was better than mine. Break ups SUCK

Can I request nsfw with Dottore, pantalone and Childe with fem!sub reader?With degrading, manhandling, aphrodisiac usage, brat taming, choking, and just in general anything rlly mean n rough. Like, Scaramouche, you betrayed the fatui, you thought you’d be safe in ur hiding spot but then they found you. And thought u a lesson. If you can’t remain loyal to the Tsaritsa, there’s one thing ur good for, being there cocksleeve! But this time, you physically cannot escape

a/n: I'll be frank, I bumped your request ahead of the ones I have left in my inbox when I saw it. (Sorry everyone, I feel a little bad but I will do this every single time if it means I can cheer someone up after a breakup.) Break ups do suck so much. Especially if it happened on Valentine's Day😔 I hope this makes you feel better. I went all out for you. Please feel better.

Dottore x fem! reader Childe x fem! reader Pantalone x fem! reader. Smut. Sub!reader. Use of an aphrodisiac on Dottore's part. Degradation in all parts. Brat taming and choking in Pantalone's part. I didn't hold myself back while I wrote this. I apologize if made anyone uncomfortable.

Dottore couldn't help but reflect on how foolish you were. You'd left the house you were hiding in after betraying the Fatui, obviously having let your guard down because the door was unlocked.

You may as well have set yourself up by leaving a half filled glass of water on the table. The aphrodisiac he poured into your drink was tasteless and odorless. Dottore had purposely made it that way. You would have no idea it was mixed in with the water.

Sloshing the water gently so as not spill it, he retreated in your room to lay in wait. You would no doubt be back anytime now, not wanting to stay out too long.

You sighed heavily when you closed the door behind. You could add one more day to not getting caught. Or so you thought as you gulped down the rest of the water. After awhile, however, you started to feel lightheaded, your cheeks felt flushed, your heartbeat was beginning to speed up. You thought for a moment that you might be getting sick, but you could feel yourself suddenly getting wet.

"Ah, it's finally starting to take affect," Dottore said, revealing himself when he opened the door. The look of horror on your face was chef's kiss exquisite to him.

"W..what have you done..?" You slurred slightly.

"Don't act so surprised, slut. Everyone in the Fatui knew we fucked more a few times. Her Highness knew exactly who to send to find you," Dottore replied. Grabbing your arm, he yanked you up out of the chair. "Don't kid yourself, we both know you loved every single second of it."

"What are you going to do me?" You don't know why you asked him that. He wasn't lying. You were already instantly compliant as he held you firmly against him.

Grabbing a handful of your hair, Dottore forced you to look up at him. "Her Majesty demands loyalty. Until you realize that, the only thing you are good for is serving as my cum slut."

Unbuttoning your pants, Dottore pushed your damp panties aside, he pressed his thumb against your clit, slowly rubbing it. Your moan was loud. Your hips jerked up against his hand. The aphrodisiac was already making you feel sensitive, so much that it made you dizzy.

Dottore laughed at how pathetic you sounded. "Hmm, judging by how wet you are, it seems like you want me to drag you back to beg for forgiveness in front of The Tsaritsa," he plunged his fingers inside of your needy cunt. His pace was brief, but ruthless, going just long enough for your moans to make him even harder.

You yelped when he tore your clothes to absolute shreds before stripping himself. Throwing you down on the bed, he flipped you over, pumping his hand on his cock before he thrust himself inside of you, immediately bottoming out.

You barely had time to tightly grip the sheets before he starting pounding into you. The way he was gripping your hips was guaranteed to leave bruises. Unfortunately (or was it?), you didn't last long under the spell of the aphrodisiac.

A scream of pleasure tore from your throat, your release flooding onto his cock. His pace didn't relent. Grabbing your hair again, he yanked your head back, leaning in to say in your ear, "You were going to serve your purpose either way, regardless if you can quietly back to the Fatui. Now scream for me, you dumb slut."

(First time writing Pantalone so please bear with me a little.)

It had been easy to track you down. Pantalone had many connections being that he was the wealthiest of the Harbingers. All it took was a little Mora for someone to sing like a canary that they knew where you were hiding. You really shouldn't have been so trusting.

That was how you'd landed in the situation you were currently in, happily sucking on Pantalone's fingers as he pumped them in and out of your mouth. His other hand was on your hip, holding you place in his lap, ordering you not to move until he decided you could.

It was hard for you not to though, especially since his cock was buried to the hilt inside of you, and you craved at least a little friction. In a moment of brief defiance, you bit his fingers, trying to move.

His smile never left his face. He seemed completely unruffled by your bratty behavior. However, his degradation was harsh. "You know, I just may keep you for myself after The Tsaritsa grants you leniency. I practically bought you like a whore," he said, "You being my cock sleeve serves me much better than you going back out on the front lines."

Your breasts bounced as Pantalone began to thrust roughly inside of you. "You usually sub so well for me, you don't have be a such a brat this time. I'm going to enjoy taming you."

He wrapped a hand around your throat, squeezing, his cock hitting your sweet spot at a dizzying pace. Your screams of pleasure died in your throat as your oxygen supply began to dwindle, making your lungs burn. He only let go just a little to hear you cry out as you orgasmed. "That's right, my pretty whore. Fall apart for me like the sub that you are."

"You sound so pretty choking on my cock, girlie. It excites me," Childe said, looking coldly down at you, transfixed as saliva mixed with his precum pooled from the corners of your mouth.

With how eagerly you were sucking him off, Childe thought you wanted to be caught just so you wrap your lips around his cock. He smacked your hand back down onto his hip when you reached down to try and rub your clit. Pulling back because you needed air, you gazed up at him desperately.

"Please, Childe. Will you fuck me now? I'm behaving aren't I?"

Childe's tone was between a laugh and a scoff. "Did I tell you could stop sucking, slut? He snapped, pushing your mouth back down onto his cock, "and do you really think I would let you get yourself off? You are dumber than I thought. But what did I expect, you were always such a slut for me."

He thrust into your mouth, groaning when your throat spasmed on his cock when you coughed. "It didn't take long to suss out your hiding place either. You practically left a trail of breadcrumbs for me after you left."

You gurgled in pleasure when you heard his harsh words, making Childe burying his fingers firmly into your hair. "You'll wait until I am good and ready to use you however I please."

When he cummed in your mouth, he ordered you not waste a drop as you swallowed. You happily obliged him. He'd been your only sex partner in the Fatui. You only wanted to please him.

[lamemaster]

Return of the Traitor

Request: Literally no one. Not a single soul.

Pairing: Maedhros x Reader

Genre: fluff, fix it-ish?

Summary: You have returned to Himring, to him, whom you are no more than a traitor.

AN: This has been in draft since Himring fell...

"With all due respect," the realtor squeaked, his voice a strained octave higher than usual. "This property has been on the market for centuries. Every venture initiated here has ended in heavy losses, not to mention the…spectral reports." He shot a nervous glance towards the crumbling ramparts.

A grim smile played on your lips. "Losses are one thing," you drawled, tracing the rough stone of the wall with your fingertips. "But some things are worth the risk, wouldn't you agree?" The realtor, a man whose immaculate suit seemed woefully out of place amidst the decay, coughed nervously.

You were back in Himring, the once-proud fortress of the first Feanorion. Centuries had passed since the ocean reclaimed it, but time seemed to hold no sway here. The wind howled through shattered windows, carrying whispers of a forgotten past.

The ancient craftsmanship still held. "Damn elves and their unrelenting craft," you muttered under your breath.

Ignoring the realtor's stammering protests, you strode purposefully into the dark halls. The halls of your dear nemesis. Wondering if you would have the pleasure of stumbling upon his wraith.

Hope, a fragile thing nurtured by years of longing and yearning, flickered in your chest. Perhaps, just perhaps, you would find him here. Maedhros, your nemesis, your lover, the ghost who unknowingly haunted your every waking moment.

You came looking for the unfairly handsome elven lord, who remained the most charming single-handedly, you snickered at your joke imagining the eye-roll Maedhros would have rewarded you with had you uttered such words in his presence.

The past. A time when love bloomed effortless and potent, strong enough to lure you across the vast expanse from the Eastern lands to stand at your lord's side.

But was he still your lord? The guilt gnawed at you, a constant companion. After everything you'd done, such a title felt like a cruel joke. Not a lord, not a friend, not even a lover could you ever deserve after causing the fall of Himring.

You, Ulfang the chieftain, became the fall of Himring. You, who was the cause of estrangement of the firstborn and secondborn. The idiotic chieftain who lost everything in one gamble. The weight of that choice, the burden of countless lives lost, pressed down on you like an invisible mountain.

Now you stand, entrapped in the gray area of past and present. Even death had failed to take Maedhros away from you. He lived still in your mind, body, and soul.

"I am here Maedhros," you whisper to the winds that rush through his fort. "Try not to kill me." You add as a second thought.

Day one started with a bang. Or, more accurately, a clumsy stumble. Despite a surprisingly good night's sleep (considering the freezing halls and the weight of the past), you woke up way past sunrise.

Stumbling outside, you squinted at the sky, a canvas of swirling gray. Rain, fantastic. Just what you needed. But a frown did little to deter you.

With a disgruntled sigh, you hefted the "saplings" you'd dragged all the way to the fortress. "Saplings" being a generous term for the small, but decidedly unyielding trees you clutched in your arms.

These weren't your typical saplings. No sir, these were chosen with meticulous care. Flowering Jasmines, delicate Gardenias, and yes, even a tangled mass of Rose vines – a blatant nod to Maedhros' preferences.

If Manwe had rain planned then you might as well make use of it.

Of course, you hadn't forgotten about practicality either. Tucked amongst the fragrant blooms were a healthy assortment of vegetables – you weren't about to starve to death while playing gardener.

Perched precariously on the crumbling balcony, you busied yourself adding some delicate periwinkles to the mix. That was, until your foot met a rogue root with the grace of a drunken bear. With a surprised yelp, you went sprawling – a tangle of limbs and saplings tumbling down towards the damp earth below.

The first sensation that registered was the bite of freezing rain stinging your face. Then came the thrum of pain, a low ache traveling from your shin all the way up to your hip. You lay there for a moment, the rain drumming a steady rhythm on your body.

Suddenly, the air seemed to shift. A new sound, a soft rustling perhaps, or a presence that settled on the world like a heavy cloak. Your breath hitched in your throat. Maedhros had finally graced you with his… attention.

A slow smile spread across your face, a blend of sheepishness and something else – a spark of defiance, a hint of something you hoped wasn't misplaced hope. "Well, hello there," you murmured, your voice barely audible over the rain.

Falling from the balconies, getting trapped in musty rooms – these became your daily routines. The aches and pains were starting to accumulate, a dull throb in your ankle a constant reminder of your latest tumble. Despite the new collection of scratches and a growing limp, your spirit remained defiant. You were, after all, the same old you.

"By eru! Auugh-" You spit your soup coughing unrelentingly in the lonesome dining hall. "Oh my, that almost took me out," you panted, your tongue feeling like a desert after a sandstorm. "Soup of death, or perhaps a bowl of salt with a reluctant splash of broth?"

"Did not know death made trolls out of elves..." you chuckle giving up on the idea of dinner. "Or is it just you, my love?" You speak to the empty room. Bemused that the idea of Maedehros' antics.

Pushing the offending dish away with a grimace. Giving up on dinner, you surveyed the desolate hall. A flicker of sadness crossed your features as you noticed a chipped teacup lying forgotten on the floor. It was a simple thing, but it reminded you of a brighter time, a time when laughter filled this room.

A sigh escaped your lips. Why torture yourself with such memories? With a determined glint in your eye, you pushed yourself up from the table, ignoring the protest from your injured ankle. You were here for a reason, and a little soup-induced near-death experience wasn't going to deter you.

"Do whatever you must," you declared, a hint of bravado lacing your voice. You addressed the empty room, a bemused smirk playing on your lips. "I will not leave." As if on cue, a sudden crackle erupted from the fireplace behind you, sending a shower of sparks dancing into the air.

"I have nowhere else to be," you continued, feeling a familiar warmth bloom in your chest. He was here. He had to be. or you were having some very personal conversations with a random spirit.

A cold gust of wind swept through the hall, extinguishing a nearby candle with a hiss. You shivered, a flicker of vulnerability replacing your bravado.

"And if you think killing me will rid you of my presence," you continued, your voice gaining strength with each word, "you are sorely mistaken. This time, I will not leave. Not even in death. So pray to your Valar that I do not die and join you as a wraith, forever tethered to this accursed place."

You declare with borrowed confidence from your stupid past self.

Maedhros loathes you. He despises you. The way you are different yet achingly familiar, the way your body moves in a similar fashion, yet your hair shines differently in the sun – it is a constant torment.

He despises the wretched hope that blooms in his chest at your sight. Hope before, resentment. A racing heart before a broken one.

But he is not unchanged either. Times have worn him into a resentful sprite. A wraith instead of the elven lord you remember. A bitter existence opposite of what you remember.

At least that's what he tells himself as he watches you passed out in the rain or when he sees you throwing away another inedible dinner.

He wants you gone. He yearns to be free from the constant reminder of his failures, the embodiment of a love that has brought him nothing but ruin.

He will never offer you the solace you crave, the forgiveness you desperately seek. Love, absolution, even a semblance of the tenderness he once held for you – these are things he has long since locked away, burying them deep beneath the layers of his self-imposed exile.

At least that is what he tells himself.

He wants you gone, yes, but the thought of you suffering gnaws at him like a persistent ache.

He will never admit it, but he finds himself drawn to you. Following you into his own, long-abandoned chambers was an act of… what? Curiosity? A morbid fascination? Whatever it was, the sight of you dusting the ancient tomes he hadn't touched in millennia sent a jolt through him.

For a fleeting moment, time seemed to warp. You were both in the same room, you dusting the shelves, talking in your usual way, oblivious to his presence.

And for once, Maedhros allowed himself to simply look at you. Not with the burning hatred he has cultivated for so long, but with a… a wistfulness he can not explain.

He even finds himself replying to your nonsensical chatter about fearing toads. It is a small indulgence, a rebellion against the prison of his own making.

The illusion is shattered with a deafening crack. The rickety bookshelf groans and then collapses, a cascade of heavy tomes raining down on you. Maedhros reacts on instinct, a desperate lunge forward that would have been pointless given his form.

As expected you pass through his outstretched arms, a wisp of smoke, landing with a surprised yelp on the dusty bed. A cloud of dust erupts, momentarily obscuring the room. When it settles, his breath hitches in his throat.

Your eyes are wide and startled, fixed on him. Your mouth is agape, and your eyes, glistening with something other than dust?

A tremor runs through Maedhros, with something he dare not name. Could it be…? No. It had to be just the dust. Just the dust.

[secondarysefikura]

Are YOU looking for songs to add to your sefikura playlist?

You're...you're not? Oh. Well. Shit. But if you are then may I introduce you to the world of Mili?

The following is my attempting at listing every Mili song that I think fits with sefikura. Bear with me, this will be a long one.

Album: Mag Mell (released 2014)

Imagined Flight: With lines like "Swing through debris and waste, Float nonstop, Exploring milkyway," and the verse "Repress, Manipulate, Dominate, Now, Imagine you can fly, Take all the universes under your control, Imagine you can fight, Imagine you're alive, Imagine you can" do I really need to explain why this song fits Cloud and Sephiroth so well?

Album: Miracle Milk (released 2016)

Red Dahlia: While this song is generally accepted as being about a doctor who impregnates their patient, it can easily be imagined to represent Cloud and Sephiroth's relationship. Especially when you consider the fact that Cloud had Sephiroth's cells forcibly added to his blood, this song could easily be about Cloud's feelings as Sephiroth begins to manipulate and control him from "within."

Ga1ahad and Scientific Witchery: A knight and a witch caught in a strange love-hate relationship. The knight seems insistent on killing the witch who revives the knight everytime he dies in his battle against the witches.

Bathtub Mermaid: This song as always made me think of Sephiroth taking control of Cloud and promising to take away all the agony he has experienced. Especially with lines like "stay with me you will never be sad" and "reborn, reform, twist my legs to one and mind to none."

Honourable mention: World.execute(me);: A song about a computer who falls in love with it's user. It's not as sefikura coded as the other songs, but any song with the line "challenging your god, you have made some illegal arguments" is a winner in my book.

Album: Millennium Mother (released 2018)

Extension of You: A song about a clone or computer of some sort who learns to copy it's creator, slowly learning to be sentient. Very fitting for puppet Cloud.

With a Billion Worldful of <3: The story of someone who falls in love with a Buddhist monk. Originally content with just being near the monk, the singer eventually decides to kill the monk so they can be together when they are reborn in a new life. It's easy to imagine Sephiroth as the singer, growing more and more obsessed with Cloud.

Every Other Ghost:

"Every meter of my skin reaching out Like every other ghost here to prove my love Every meter of my skin, mmm Like every other ghost, refusing to be dead."

Fossil: A song about suffering and forgiveness.

Album: To Kill a Living Book-For Library of Ruina- (released 2021)

From a Place of Love: This song is DARK. It's the story of two lovers who are sewn together, suffering horribly until they are killed. Sefikura wise, it really gives off the feeling of Cloud suffering under Sephiroth's control or affections, forced to spend forever with his enemy.

And Then is Heard no More: This song makes me think of Sephiroth regretting his actions towards Cloud, feeling guilty that his actions have hurt Cloud so badly.

Iron Lotus: I've always felt like this song is a good depiction of Cloud's mixed feelings towards Sephiroth. His guilt, anger, fear, and even his affection and adoration can all be seen in the lyrics. Not to mention how well the chorus lines up with Cloud's rather negative self image and him being fueled by his desire to kill Sephiroth.

Gone Angels: "For you, angels have fallen Now they're gone See? Now they're gone, forever gone From the hell that served as my one and only home Though it may hurt today Tomorrow, I'll be heading my way."

Need I say more?

Album: Key Ingredient (2022)

This album is basically a stripped back version of several of Mili's songs. All these songs were originally released on other albums, but these slower and often more emotional versions fit sefikura better, in my mind.

Chocological: What starts as a very sweet song (literally!) has a rather sad ending. One can imagine this song being about Cloud's idolization of Sephiroth and the way the idolization crashes and burns after Nibelheim.

And that is it, although there are dozens of other Mili songs that you might find also scratches that Sefikura itch.

Enjoy, @sephirthoughts