#I feel like how in go her hair is straight

[cherry-leclerc]

we never talk about it ☆ op81

genre: humor, angst, yearning, massive crushes, and lots and lots of miscommunication, assistant!reader

word count: 11k

It's unwise—longing for someone like Oscar. While he's the epitome of someone anyone can easily fall in love with, you're the epitome of a devoted girl who will fall in love with him. You might not even care too much about all the heartbreak you endure along the way.

inspired by this !

cherry here!... based on real events.

Do you remember the day we first met?

The wind doesn’t do its job in blocking him out, the way you prayed and wished it would. You’re still able to catch the crack in his voice—a distant reminder of the way it once made you giggle. Even his nose is beet red, matching the Christmas lights. But apart from all that, you still hear him. You still see him. 

You always have.

“A little bit. Yeah.”

He flinches, then tries to play it off with a soft smile. Like he doesn’t want you to uncover the slight hurt he feels. But he can’t read your mind. He never could. And that was the problem.

Oscar nods, feigning indifference. “I do. Remember it all, I mean.  Think back to it quite often."

-

It’s utterly useless to try and ignore him, really.

His hair is too fluffy, his eyes are too bright, and his accent is making you want to flaunt the way some loony character would with a hand over their heart. It was honestly a tad bit demeaning.

But you can't help it. You admire the way his brown locks fall in a lousy manner when he towers down to sign the contract. You blush when his eyes get that twinkle in them. And you swoon over almost anything he says with a shy smile.

“You’re drooling.”

Mortified, you briskly run the back of your hand against your mouth before sending a harsh glare. Lando snickers. “Would you please stop?”

His jaw drops, theatrically. “You’re not actually into him—are you?”

He says it with a trace of humor, but also shock, and you can't help but have your mouth run dry. A loose grin starts to expand across his lips as you hurriedly shake your head. “O-of course not. Are you crazy?”

But if anything, you feel crazy. You must be, right? With every passing second of your heart beating faster and faster against your chest simply just by looking at the young Australian, you’re sure you fall straight into the category like some love fool.

Lando squints his eyes. “I don’t know.” He leans in straight into your face, nearly hissing. “Am I?”

“Am I interrupting?” 

Flinching hard, you turn quickly to face Anastasia. You’d initially met the black haired girl back in 2019. As you started off as the Brits personal assistant, she took over as Carlos’ and later also Daniel’s. Over the course of time, you two came to be as close as sisters. 

“No! Not at all,” you squeak, nervously before pushing the McLaren driver away and patting towards the open chair next to you. She giggles, rolling her eyes and adjusting herself. “How was the flight over?”

A shrug. “As good as it can get. Sat next to a silver fox, so I guess that must count for something, no?” Lando shudders. She leans in closer, plopping her head against your shoulder. “What’d I miss?”

“Not much.” Only, that’s not true. She missed the way he laughed awkwardly when the doors wouldn’t slide open and let him into the headquarters. She missed the way he rolled his R’s a little too hard when saying ‘sorry’. She missed the way he grabbed the pen with a certain glow on his face, like he almost couldn’t believe any of this was happening. Lazy fingers pat her head gently once before sighing. “He seems nice.”

“How do you know?”

You know because of the way he talks to everyone. Like he cares about what they have to say. Whether it’s about how great his career is going to be here in McLaren or if they introduce their kids to him via FaceTime. He always wore the same smile, talked in the same warm tone. So, could your guess be far off? Yes. It could be completely far off. But you would bet money that it wasn’t. 

“Just a wild hypothesis.”

Her laugh isn’t too loud, not ridiculously so, at least, but the fact that it echoes is what makes it appear as such. Anastasia is quick to slap her hand over her mouth, the Brit turns fast to face her with panic evident in his eyes, and you simply blink with a shade of red slowly creeping towards your cheekbones. 

Zak grins. “You three.”

“Oh, we’re out,” Lando mumbles in monotone, already grabbing your wrist and dragging you to the exit. You follow numbly, like you don’t have any strength left in your body. 

“You’re leaving me?” Anastasia hisses.

“She’s my assistant,” he says like a matter-of-fact. “Where I go, she goes.”

“Oh, you Judas—”

“All of you,” Zak clarifies, narrowing his eyes over to you and the Brit. You gulp.

With a soft curse, Anastasia stands up, tall and firm, and makes her way over with all the confidence in the world. You frown, craving to be the same way, even just a small percentage. Instead, you have to be forced by the McLaren driver. 

With every step, your head just spins faster because now, he’s more than real. You can smell his cologne. You can count all the moles that cover his face if you really wanted to. You can spot how his hair is still a bit wet, indicating an early shower. 

He’s just becoming— too real. 

“Lando, buddy, meet your new teammate!”

“Nice to meet you,” the blue eyed boy declares with a loopy grin, letting go of your hand in order to shake his. 

“Likewise.”

Zak claps once. “Oh! And meet your personal assistant, Anastasia.”

“Here for anything you might need,” she cheers with a bright smile.

“Fantastic.”

A wave of silence overlaps your four before Lando clears his throat. “And even though you might not be working with her one-on-one, this is my Anastasia.” A snicker. “My assistant, if you will.”

“Nice to meet you—”

“Nice to meet you—”

You both freeze, hands intertwined for a second longer before abruptly letting go. He lets out a dry laugh while you do the same. The way your skin tingles makes you blush. 

“This is fun and all, but we actually have somewhere to be,” the Brit claims with a suspicious look slashed across his usual laid back expression. You nod. “But we’ll see each other soon, man. Can’t wait to race together!”

In a flash, you two are out the door, leaving a dumbfounded Oscar blinking slowly.

-

“He fucks with you.”

“Excuse me?”

Another bench press. “As in, he likes you. He’s into you.”

You don’t dare ask who he is because you already know who the Brit’s referring to and that would only inflate your ego. Snapping your fingers, you narrow your eyes. “Focus. Two more sets left to go.” He groans, flipping you off.

It would be a lie to say that this didn’t make your self-esteem skyrocket. Could he be right? Could someone like Oscar ever lay eyes on you? Somewhere in your dreams, you’d like to say yes. Yes. That is a possibility. But the longer you think about it, the more unrealistic it gets.

You don’t have what others do. And that itself is enough to pop the bubble. 

-

The start of the season is always tough. 

“He’s extremely nervous.”

For some more than others.

You frown. “Really? But he’s usually so…relaxed.”

Anastasia shrugs, hair falling over her shoulder as she continues typing. “I mean, I tried talking to him but with everything I said, he’d just reply—'that's nice’. It was sarcastic, if anything. I would have laughed if I didn’t feel for him. Poor boy.” Her fingers freeze mid-air. “Wait—do you think you could talk to him?”

“I’m not sure that’s a great idea—”

“Come on! Maybe it’ll help him ease his nerves!”

“Ana—”

“Please.”

You huff. “Okay. Fine. Yeah. I’ll see what I can do.”

As soon as you knock, you almost want to turn away. Maybe it was all an exaggeration. Plus, it’s not like he’s going to die from having butterflies in his stomach. Yeah, surely he’ll be fine and he doesn’t really even need you to—

“Come in.”

He wasn't expecting you, that much you can tell by the way his brows go up. But he’s quick to erase the confusion, settling with a fond expression. “Hey.”

“Hi,” you squeak before cringing at the sound. He chuckles, returning to his warm-up exercises. “How are you feeling?”

Another chuckle, this time amused. “Anastasia sent you, didn’t she?”

“What?” A beat. “No.”

He hums. “Tsk. I’m a bit nervous, that's all.”

You lick your lips, kicking your foot up against the doorframe. What could you possibly say that she hasn’t already? If she couldn’t ease him, then how can you? The thought of messing up and making it worse makes your stomach churn. 

“You’re going to do g—”

“Great?” He sighs, blowing his cheeks. “That’s exactly what she said.”

“And what’s wrong with it? She’s only trying to help.”

“No. I know she is, but…” He looks down onto his lap, pausing all movements. “Look, I appreciate you both. What you’re trying to do for me, but I can’t stand hearing what others think I want to hear.”

“It doesn’t do it for you?”

His eyes grow slightly wide with the way you go about and ask. He’s never seen you be anything other than sweet and reserved. But this—right now—is stern and very coach-like. Something and someone you aren’t. Not even close.

“It doesn’t,” he admits, finally looking away. “Never liked it. Always sounds too forced.”

You nod, crossing your arms. “Fine. I can tell you the truth. I can be truthful.” He perks. “Oscar, you’re a terrific driver.” He groans, covering his face with his hands. “But just because you’re great doesn’t mean you’ll be great all the time.” The Australian frowns, uncovering and looking up at you with attentive eyes. “You’re going to mess up. You’re going to be second, or third, or something even twentieth, but that doesn’t matter, you know why?”

“Why?”

“Because you signed that contract, so you sort of have to suck it up, either way.” He lets out a loud laugh. Very unlike him. A weak smile threatens to fall as you try your best to push it back. “There’s going to be bad races, but there’s also going to be very good races. It all depends on you and how hard you work. Sometimes you’ll have a good car, a good strat, and others you’ll have a shitbox and a bad strat. That’s just the way this sport works, okay?”

Oscar blinks slowly, as if trying to decipher who you are, and that itself makes you dizzy. “I-I-I don’t care if you’re nervous, I don’t care if you’re sure—all we care is that you drive that car, and that you try your best no matter what. Can you do that?”

It’s foreign. The feeling in his chest. He’s not used to hearing any of this. As of recently, everyones been texting him to say how great he’s going to be. How far he’ll go. And while he was grateful for having unconditional support, he also dreaded hearing it sometimes because he doesn’t even want to picture letting any of  them down. He’ll act like he’s fine, he’ll act like he doesn’t care—but none of that would be true.

The brunette tilts his head to the side, slightly squinting. “I can. I can always try my best. Even if I fall short.”

“Good.” A beat. “We all believe in you. No matter what, okay?”

A timid smile. “I know…”

He ends up having to retire the car by lap fifteen, but the most astonishing part is that he’s not even upset. He tried his best. He listened to every single advice his engineer would alert him with. He practiced long hours in the stimulator.

This is just the way things go sometimes. Just like you said.

-

“I’m bored. Can I get a ten minute break or something?” Lando grimaces, rolling his wrist like it's the worst pain in the world. 

You hum, fixing the signed hats back into the box. With eyes screwed, you shrug. “Fine. But only ten! I’m serious. We need to have this done by one.”

“Yes! Ten—got it.”

He doesn’t come back in ten. For the matter, he actually goes missing. 

You narrow your eyes towards the clock, watching as it clicks like some mockery. You’re going to strangle him. You vow at that very moment that you’ll strangle the Brit as soon as you lay hands on him. With one final huff of desperation, you stand up, rubbing your eyes. People frolic through the paddock—you’re sure you even catch a glimpse of Lewis being papped—but that’s not what catches all of your attention. 

Instead, you find yourself leaning against the rail, squinting down to where the man of the hour sits, microphones huddled all around him like some interrogation. Anastasia smiles politely, back straight, and voice-recorder in hand. 

It’s faint—you almost can’t hear a thing—but it’s just enough. 

How does it feel to be back home? Enjoying it, no?

Oscar hums, straight brows slightly furrowed due to the bright sun, but just one adjustment of his hat makes that all go away. “Feels good. I’m able to sleep in my own bed, so that’s pretty cool. And yes. It may be a bit biased, but I am enjoying my time here more than the last two races.” Everyone chuckles. 

Can we talk about your expectations for this weekend? 

You can see him pause, and from where you’re standing, the way his fingers drum against his chair. “Well, I, uh…I hope for a good car.” The joke is supposed to be there, but you can tell everyone was expecting more with the way they murmur to one another. You wince.

Will raises the microphone up to his lips, along with his hand in order to catch the brunette’s attention. “I’m sure there’s been lots of people reaching out to you since this is your first home race, but has there been someone’s advice that has stuck like no other?”

Oscar smiles gently. “There has been, actually.”

You freeze, gripping the steel bar with anticipation. Your knuckles nearly feel like they’re about to snap, and you feel like you’re probably leaning a bit too far over the edge to hear it all, but you don’t even care. Will chuckles. “If it’s not too much to ask, would you mind sharing with us all? I’m sure it’ll help a lot of youngsters watching.”

Anastasia slides the recorder closer. Oscar visibly swallows. “I’m not sure I can. I never asked her for permission to talk about it. And quite frankly, I’d like to keep it between us.”

Will perks up. “Her?”

The black-haired girl is quick to whisper into his ear, turning the opposite way so no one can even attempt to read her lips. He nods, eyes trained forward like some guard. “Any more questions?” But everyone’s intrigued at this point, so all the questions that follow remain the same. Something that makes Anastasia panic and Oscar regret his choice of words. 

“Can we get a name?” some blurts out, nearly seeming desperate to get the inside scoop.

Only, his face remains still, jaw slacked. “No.”

Will raises his hand. “Very well, we don’t have any right to know, but are you willing to share a bit about what she said?”

And it’s almost as if the Australian can foresee that the only way to get out of this situation is by giving them what they want. Even if it’s a stupid little crumb. He sighs, running a hand through his hair. “She told me to try my best. That’s all I can really do.”

The mix of photographers and journalists deflate. “I-I’m sorry,” Lawrence Barretto slides in with a light tone and an ever lighter smile. “Don’t mean to lessen its meaning, but isn’t that a common thing to say? To hear?” An awkward laugh. “I mean, I just thought it’d be something a bit more…deep. Inspiring, perhaps.”

Blood rushes to your cheeks and you’re grateful to whatever God may exist that you’re not down there. On the other hand, Oscar is a bit bothered by the innocent comment, but then realizes he doesn't have to be. They weren’t there. They don’t know just how much more you said. How upfront you were with him without sounding condescending. Something most people did without even realizing. 

The brown eyed boy spares a smile. “Like I said—some things I’d like to keep between her and I. And even if it was just that, it’s the way she said it.” A beat. “It’s quite a lavish thing to have. A sincere person to talk to, I mean.”

Will tilts his head suspiciously. “It appears she might be someone special to you, yes?”

The Australian freezes at the unwanted interpretation. Suddenly, the atmosphere is far too crowded. He lets out a forced chuckle, rolling his neck before messaging it gently. “Well, yes. I’d agree.” 

A mix of giddiness and shock rushes through your veins as you refrain yourself from jumping up and down with excitement. 

“You’d be lucky if you had her as a friend too.”

-

“Is everything okay?”

Biting down on the churro he had gifted you as an apology for not getting back on time, you growl. “Yes. Why wouldn’t it be?”

Lando raises a thick brow. “Dunno. Maybe the fact that you’re moping.”

Your jaw goes slack, immediately turning to face him. “I am not moping.”

The sound he lets out indicates he doesn’t quite believe you, but is choosing to let it go. Also, he doesn’t want to see your patience run out, too scared of what you might do. The curly haired driver plops down onto his bed that stands in his motorhome, closing his eyes. You nearly envy the indifference in him. The lack of worry. 

“I can hear your teeth clenching. Gross.”

A grunt. “I’m gonna go grab a coffee. Need anything?”

“Only a nap. It’s a good thing you’ll be gone.” He turns over to his side, bringing your jacket over his face to block out any light. You bite the air, swinging silently for a minute or two before exiting the cramped room. 

The sun hurts, you remember thinking, but the upcoming migraine you’re getting is even worse. You should be used to this by now, given you’ve suffered from them since elementary, but based on the way you zig zag without meaning to is enough proof to know that you’re not. Everyone's voices are suddenly muffled, even the sound of engines roaring is as soft as a feather. You wince, massaging your temples as if that might help. 

Woah, are you feeling alright? 

“I’m fine,” you respond meekly, to who even knows. You wave them off rudely. “I’ll be fine. Just. Leave me alone.” 

Anastasia frowns, all while fanning your face. “No. You need to lay down.” She nudges the Australian, who up until now, you had no clue he had his arm clung around your waist. If you weren’t too busy feeling like shit, you’d definitely be making a fool out of yourself. Her green eyes fill up with worry. “I’m gonna go look for a paramedic.”

“You’re doing too much,” you slur, body letting loose and making the brunette shriek as he grips you harder, trying to keep you upright. 

A deadpan expression. “Oscar, take her back to your motorhome and have her lay down.”

He nods, hesitantly. “Y-yeah, okay. Okay.” Once she runs off like a headless chicken, you let out a dramatic gag. Sharp brows knit together with horror. “Do I smell bad?”

A giggle. “No. As a matter of fact, you smell rich.”

With his arm still wrapped around you securely, and warm eyes flickering from to you back to see where he’s heading, he grins, eyes crinkling. “Rich? That just so happens to have a scent?”

You purse your lips, wincing at the fact that your peripheral vision has gone completely dark. “Maybe. Maybe not. Maybe I’m a terrific liar and I’m only stroking your ego for my benefit.”

Another chuckle. “Benefit? What benefit may that be?”

Tsk. “How else am I gonna get you to take me to bed?”

The Australian instantly chokes hard on a string of his own saliva, causing you to flinch at the loud sound. Loud to you, at least. He apologizes, but not before taking a glance down, like it’s the first time meeting you. 

As soon as you lay down on the miniature mattress, you release a groan. Even just having your eyes closed makes you dizzy. You let out a loud groan, kicking your feet against the cushion in desperation.

“That bad?”

“That annoying.”

And even though you can’t see him, he nods, internally freaking out, trying to think of ways to help. “Does this happen to you often?”

“Yes.”

He nods, sheepishly. “W-what do you normally do? You know? To help?”

Tossing over to lay on your side, you pinch your eyes, grinding your molars. For a minute, you sort of thought your teeth might crack. Everything about this situation was becoming unbearable. “My mom, she, um…she’d normally braid my hair. It helped sometimes. Others it didn’t.” Messy hair dangles over your face as you let you out a loud exhale, as if you were in the middle of releasing some demon. “I moved too much, she said.”

Oscar smiles, coming across like a faint memory locked in the back of your mind. “I-I-I can try…” Loopy eyes flicker up to face him, and he’s quick to scrunch his nose. The sight alone makes you breathe easier, though he doesn’t know that. Of course he doesn’t. “Only if you want me to…”

“You know how?”

“Sort of? When I was younger, I used to sit across from my sisters at the breakfast table. I was bound to learn a thing or two.”

The subtle proud smile makes your heart beat flutter, smitten at the insight to his childhood. You wish you knew more. Like what was his favorite show? Did he have any imaginary friends, just like you did? Or maybe his favorite superhero? But you swallow all those questions down your throat as soon as he kneels down next to you. The whiff of soft musk distinctively adds to your headache, but you’re too focused on him for something as dumb as that to matter. 

“Just…close your eyes.”

Taking one last glance at him, you comply, lashes fanning slowly before going completely dark. You can still hear him adjusting, you can feel him take your hair into his hands, but nothing makes you stop breathing like his touch that grazes your cheek. 

It’s almost ghostlike—doesn’t really stay on the same spot for too long—but you know it’s real. Long fingers calmly push strands of hair behind your ear, tranquility expanding over your body. The slight tickle it causes helps ease your pounding migraine, little by little. 

“Are my hands too cold?” he whispers, not trying to intrude, but at the same time, wanting to know. You twist, bottom lip jutting out. Not at all. Keep going. And he does. He ends up tangling your hair a bit, because as it turns out, he doesn’t remember much, but he’s sure to delicately fix his mess, brows drawn in with heavy concentration. 

As soon as your hair is back to flowing free, he relaxes, wincing a bit at the pain in his knees. Your hair feels soft. Just what he would imagine a cloud would feel like. For a second, he begins to wonder, who’s this really for? He feels like this might be soothing him more than you. 

Just then, his finger catches on a knot, and he freezes, stopping all movements. “Holy crap, I am so sorry, I—”

You let out a low whimper, but don’t do so much as bat an eye. You’re sound asleep. The brunette lets out a breath of relief, falling back to sit on the ground. 

Your face is a bit squashed—and you’re drooling just a tad bit—but for some odd reason, he finds himself admiring. You’re full lips. You’re lashes. God, even the way you breathe. He feels a tender smile itching, but it never truly gets to see the light of day, because before he knows it, the door is swung wide open. 

Anastasia stops dead in her tracks. “What happe—is she asleep?”

Oscar opens his mouth, then snaps it shut. He does this a couple of times, awkwardly turning to face you and his assistant, back and forth, back and forth. “She, um…just did. A minute ago.”

She pouts, scratching her head. “Weird. Usually when this happens it prolongs for at least ten minutes before it gets any better.” The green eyed girl sheepishly waves the group of paramedics away. A trail of sighs echo as they turn away. As soon as they’re gone, she gently shuts the door, then tippy toes towards the edge of the small bed. Neat brows furrow. “At least she’s feeling better, no?”

Brown eyes follow her gaze. “Yeah. At least.”

-

Lando ends up throwing—and according to him— “The World’s Coolest Jamboree”. You beg for him to call it anything but jamboree, but he’s too attached to it by the time he sends the last text invite, which so happens to be to the rookie driver. 

“Has anyone RSVPed?” you question over his shoulder. He’s in the middle of mixing some mysterious liquid, but by the looks of it, doesn’t look any good. You grimace. 

He lets out a bleh before dropping his utensils. “No one RSVPs these days. They either show up, or they don’t.” 

A slow nod. “So, you don’t know who’s coming?”

“Not a clue. But most likely everyone.”

You scoff. “How are you so sure?”

He gives you an ‘are you kidding me?’ type glare before sending a sly grin. “First of all, it’s my party. They’d be crazy to miss out.And second of all…it’s only the biggest, funnest, coolest jamboree!”

“Funnest is not a word.”

“And party-poopers aren’t welcomed.” You gasp, smacking his chest harshly. He lets out a snicker, picking up a bag of ice and spilling it into the glass bowl. “But I’ll make an exception. Just this once.”

“Just this once,” you mimic before dipping your pinky in. He instantly slaps your hand away. Smacking your lips, you let out a yelp at the bitter taste. “This tastes like ass. God—not even Daniel will drink this, and that guy drinks anything in his way. I’m surprised he hasn’t been accidentally roofied.”

Lando claps his hands with amusement. “God forbid. And please, pay your respect to Lando’s Best Worst Decision.” A beat. “™.” 

“™?” you deadpan. “What? Are you planning on adding a trademark to this sewage water?”

“It’s good, okay?” Mixing the clear liquid once more, he smiles fondly down at it. “And maybe. I’m seriously considering it.”

You sneer, already walking away.

He ends up being right. Not even an hour later, the party is in full swing. Sure, a couple drivers aren’t able to make it, but it’s still jammed packed. It's honestly a miracle to get through the Monaco flat. 

You’re still sober?

Laughing, you nod, raising your water up in the air like some toast. Daniel frowns. “Considering I have to make sure my number one client doesn’t make any bad choices tonight, then nope. Can’t have a sip of alcohol.” 

Brown eyes flutter slowly. “I’m sure there’s other beverage choices. Have you tried Lando’s Best Worst Decision?” He leans in, winking. “™.”

“Oh no. Don’t tell me you actually like it?” He shrugs and you shudder in disgust. “I’m sure I saw him add ten energy shots and God knows what else.”

“No wonder I feel kinda funky.” Your face drops. “Hey, if you pass out, can I crash tonight?”

“Daniel!” you groan, covering your face. “I swear, I’m going to spill that stupid drin—” Only, Daniel is gone. Craning your head, you circle the room. From where you stand, you’re able to see Carlos and Lando taking part in a heated round of pool, all while Charles sways back and forth, infamous red cup in hand.

Marching over to the kitchen island, you pick up the glass bowl and carry it over to the sink before tipping it over. You huff, hair fanning across your nose. 

“Stupid, stupid boys—”

“Hey.”

You shriek, dropping the bowl, and wincing at the sound of glass shattering. 

Oscar grimaces. “Shit. Sorry. Are you hurt?”

“No.” You sigh. “Lando’s gonna kill me.”

Grabbing the nearby broom, the Australian sweeps carefully while knitting his brows. “Why?”

“It’s a family heirloom.”

“A glass bowl?”

You giggle. “I wonder why too.”

Despite the blaring music, and constant chattering, the room feels rather silent. You fiddle with the hem of your dress, and that seems to catch his eye as it dawns on him that he hasn’t really seen you in anything other than your usual uniform. To be fair, you could say the same. He likes it. 

You clear your throat. “Halfway done. How do you feel?”

He sips on his water, jaw clicking before settling with a sharp tsk. “Good. I think I’m finally getting the hang of it. Anastasia even congratulated me the other day when I diverted a series of questions with ease.”

Impressed, you raise your brows. “Bravo. Wish that was the case with Lando. I swear, sometimes I think he does and says things to make me look bad on purpose.”

“He should stop,” he says with a goofy smile. “Does he not know how lucky he is to get to call you his assistant?”

You blush. “Best friend, actually. I’ve been promoted ever since I pretended to be his girlfriend last New Year's Eve.”

The brunette inches forward with curiosity. “Wish to clarify?”

You hop onto the island, fixing your dress and crossing your legs. “Don’t tell him that I told you any of this, but I secretly think he was embarrassed of not having a midnight’s kiss. Especially since his ex was there with her new boyfriend. Talk about the unexpected.”

His chest tightens. “You two, um…kissed, then?”

“Yes,” you confirm with a childlike grin, and for some reason, it makes him want to puke. “Oh God, I haven’t thought about this in forever!”

He pretends to find interest in the crowded room, but really, it all remains on you. “Was it any good?”

You blush this time and he swears he’s close to walking away. “Yes and no. I mean, it wasn’t bad, but it just didn’t feel right.”

He perks up then, floppy hair bouncing at the sudden speed. “Really?” He coughs, then fixes his watches, training his eyes towards the floor. “Erm, I mean, is that so?”

A nose scrunch. “It felt like kissing someone you’re not supposed to. Which I suppose is true. We’re better off as friends.” He relaxes. “Thinking about it, we might’ve gagged each other's mouths.” You grimace. “If that doesn't show our discomfort, then I don’t know what will.”

“Good to know.” Oscar rubs his arm, up and down, then steps closer to you. You blink. “Hey, I was meaning to ask—”

Strippers? I didn’t order any strippers. 

Hire, a male voice interjects. He means to say he didn’t—hire—any strippers. 

“Son of a…” You wince apologetically, to which he shrugs. Don’t worry. Go. Biting your lip, you nod, rushing to the living room, where Lando, Daniel, and a bunch of other randoms circle the almost nude girls with long legs. 

“I mean, I won’t turn you away, ladies,” the Brit mumbled, already wrapping his arms around their waists. They all giggle, inching closer until he’s a blushing mess. 

You snap your fingers, pointing towards the exit. “All of you need to leave.”

Is that your sister? the one with a cowboy hat whispers into his ear. He quickly shakes his head, narrowing his eyes at you like a deadly weapon. 

“No. That’s his girlfriend,” Daniel yodels, face pressed up against the couch, admiring the group of girls. “But they’re in an open relationship.”

“I’m not his girlfriend—”

“She’s not my girlfriend—”

Oscar’s jaw clenches, eyes focused on the entire commotion. The older Australian rolls his eyes. “Right. We don’t talk about it.”

“Would you stop trying to help?” you shoot back, sarcastically, and clap your hands as if you’re rounding up a new high school cheer. “I need you all out. You want money? Fine. He’ll give you money,” you declare, signaling towards Lando. 

“Hey,” he groans, instantly letting go and stepping closer to you. “They haven’t even done anything to earn it….”

Your eye twitches. “I swear to God—”

“Deal,” the redhead shoots out. “But we need a moment to come to an agreement. You know? On how much we want to ask for.”

“Perfect,” you chirp, rolling your heels. “Take out your wallet, Big Boy.”

“You used to be fun.”

“And you used to be terrified over a pair of tits when I first met you. Whatever happened?” Lando blushes profoundly before pushing you away. “Want them gone, Lando, gone!”

“Yes! Jesus Christ—let me deal with this.”

“I’m done,” you promise with your hands raised up in surrender. “But just remember what happened last time.” He frowns, cocking his head to the side. You wiggle your brows. “São Paulo.” 

Color drains his face before letting out an unhinged laugh and motioning you away. You giggle, heading back to where Oscar stands. 

“I see what you mean,” he announces. What? “How he can have a bit of a headache.” 

“See! I told you! Four years of this!” A dramatic yawn. “I’m tired.” 

A string of boo’s follow once the strippers prance out the door, waving all their money in the air. Specifically Daniel, who genuinely looks upset to see them go. Oscar leans down against the counter, the proximity between you becoming smaller. “You should get some rest, then.” But he selfishly doesn’t  mean it. He wants you to stay—to keep talking to him. 

You let out a snort, grabbing your sides. “I mean, I'm tired of being Lando’s assistant. It’s a full time job, y’know?”

“Oh.” He stands up straight again. “Right. Of course.”

You purse your lips, looking down to your shoes. “But that was actually quite thoughtful.”

She thinks I’m thoughtful, he internally swoons because that must be a good sign, right? Not everyone is thoughtful, but he is, and that must count for something. Gathering all the strength he has left—which is not much considering you blink up at him like some angel—he licks his pink lips. “Back to what I was going to say earlier before you left—”

“I wasn’t trying to step on him! I already said I was sorry!” you hear a familiar voice, instantly turning to find Anastasia kicking Daniel’s face back into place, well, since he now lays asleep on the floor. You curse beneath your breath, jumping off the island once again. 

“His head did a complete 360!” Yuki accuses, clearly panicked. “That's not normal, is it?”

“No, it is,” Pierre replies with a bored tone. “I’ve seen it happen before.”

Crouching down next to the curly haired driver, you jab his cheek before motioning Oscar and Anastasia closer. “Help me carry him to the guest room,” you instruct, already taking off your cardigan. 

The black haired girl is quick on her feet, grabbing the Australians right leg as you grab the left. Oscar, however, swallows hard at the amount of cleavage you’re suddenly displaying, but instantly snaps out of it when both you and Anastasia blink back at him. He picks up the Alpha Tauri driver’s upper body before puffing. 

You blush bright pink at the sight of his muscles pulsing against his t-shirt. “I-It’s just around the corner.” 

As soon as you make it into the room, you three carefully place Daniel onto the bed, to which he squirms before flipping over and snoring away. You motion a finger over your lips before pushing them both out. Gently closing the door behind you,you let out a breath of relief. 

Anastasia lets out a whistle. “Surprisingly not that heavy.”

Oscar scoffs. “Easy for you to say. I had to carry most of his weight.” 

She shrugs, hugging you hello and apologizing for being so late, and you’re quick to reassure her that it’s fine, though she missed the chance to see strippers give Lando a tough time. She sneers. “I didn’t even know there existed strippers in Monaco.” And then she’s off, clapping loudly at the sight of Lando giving out a round of jello shots. You sigh, rubbing your temples.

“I-I’m sorry. What were you going to say?”

He freezes. “Oh. Just that—” He panics. “Only that I like your shoes!”

You blink, deflating from within. But you try to cover it up with a soft smile. “Thanks, I guess?” Orbs flicker down toward your white Sambas. “Lando says they are overrated, but I like ‘em.”

He nods. “Yeah. I like them too.”

-

It happens one Friday afternoon—the decision. 

You’re in between races, you’re in between headaches, and you’re ready to self-implode. So, before any of that happens, you make your first decision. To go on a walk. 

It’s getting rather chilly these days, something you love, but also hate. You love it because there is a certain coziness that comes along with it, but you also hate it because you can’t always be cozy, so you’re left shivering. Much like now. But to be fair, this was your own choosing. 

The pounding that takes over your head lessens the longer you stroll, the longer you breathe actual fresh air. You don’t really think much, you mainly remain blank, but the sound of tires screeching rips you away. Squinting hard, you catch a glimpse of a lady with grocery bags flipping off the fellow driver, who shares nothing but an apologetic smile before driving off. 

“What happened? Do I have something on my face?”

Dusting your nose, then your cheek, you blush faintly. You instantly assume it’s the powdered donuts fault—the one you had gobbled up in a hurry during the drive back to the paddock. It was an early morning, and no one really made it on time when it came to early days, but you always did. And so did Oscar. So, a sleepy Zak gave you a wad of cash, and sent you two to the nearest donut shop. 

The Australian shakes his head, blinking straight ahead. “N-no, I was just checking my blind spot.”

That only makes you blush harder because in what crazy world would he be looking at you? 

A single nod. The car is quiet apart from the sound of his hands moving against the steering wheel, and the sound of the blinker clicking. It’s gloomy, too. You clear your throat. “I love it when it rains.” He hums, calmly, encouraging you to continue. “It just makes me happy.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm.” You purse your lips. “I sort of wish I were home. That way I can snuggle near the window and fall asleep to the sound of light drizzle.”

The brunette quirks a brow towards the road. “That sounds nice. Like…really nice.” A pause. “Why can’t you do that here, though?”

Here—here means where you are right now. Here means this place that’s not home. Here is not close to being enough, but he doesn’t figure that one out. You blink, dragging your finger along the pink box sitting on your lap. “Trust me, I’ve tried.” A small shrug. “But it’s just not the same, y’know? There’s always something missing.”

He doesn’t waste a moment in asking. “What do you think that is?”

Taken aback by his inquiry, you let yourself surmise for a second or two before licking your lips. “Maybe a pup. To keep me company”

He semi-frowns, cocking his head to send you a deadpan expression. “A dog?”

Now it’s your turn to frown, sending him a glare. “What were you thinking?”

The red light lets him take focus on you. “Dunno. A boyfriend, maybe?”

You’re sure you’re nearly as tomato red as the light staring at you both. “What? You instantly just assume I don't have one already?”

He freezes. “Well, I, um…t-that’s not what I meant—”

“Look, I know I’m not a guys’ typical ‘dream girl’, but sheesh I’m not that unlovable. At least, I hope not, but now you’re making me second guess. I mean, your opinion must indicate everyone sees me as some sort of lonely widow.”

Oscar shakes his head, adamantly. “I don’t see you as such.” A slow pause. “A lonely widow, I mean. I find your words to not be all that true, really. You’re nice. You’re persevering, You’re beautiful. And you have a good heart.” The light translates back to green, and you’re freakishly thankful, that way he can’t see you burn up. “You could easily be anyone's dream. Whoever makes you think otherwise is a phony.”

It’s getting harder not to laugh—most likely out of skeptic shock—but you refrain. He’s simply being kind with you, but that doesn’t stop you from nearly going into cardiac arrest. His words should have been labeled with a warning. 

“Guess this world is filled with lots of phonies.”

He scoffs. “There shouldn’t be. Not when it comes to a girl like you.”

Your breath catches. “Os—”

All of a sudden, the car comes to a harsh stop, sending you flying, but not the Australian, who remains sitting up straight. An older man flips him off before riding off on his bike. You both breath hard, turning to face each other. 

“Are you okay?” he questions, voice laced with worry. 

You nod, slightly dazed. “I, um—yeah. Are you?”

A nod. “I didn’t even see where he came from.”

A weak laugh finally erupts. “Blame it on the poor innocent man— clever.”

Brown eyes soften. They flicker from your orbs back to your pouty lips. He’s only checking if you’re okay, of course. You send him a reassuring bow and he releases a heavy breath. 

“Guess I was too focused on my blind spot, once again.”

The next decision comes when you opt in to join your neighbor, Mr. Lennon, for a cup of tea after he finds you shivering. By that time, it’s raining hard, you're soaking wet, and it only makes sense to accept his kind offer. 

“Mint. To hopefully push back any upcoming cold. God, what were you thinking?”

You let out a laugh. “Not much. That’s why I was aimlessly roaming.”

“What about now?”

You halt, mug raised up to your chapped lips. “What about now?”

He smiles, softly, mixing his own tea with a heavy spoon of honey. “Did the walk help? Were you able to get the wheels rolling?”

Now you giggle loudly. “That’s not very nice! The wheels are working just fine, thank you very much.”

The light scent of pine trees enter the room as soon as he stands up to open his window, the sound of soft rain singing to you as some much needed therapy. “So? What were you pondering about out there?”

“I wasn’t pondering.”

“Walking alone in the middle of a thunderstorm?” A sore laugh. “Been there. Done that. There’s always something on someone’s mind when that happens. Which isn’t often, or usual, so that must mean you’re really stuck up on something.”

“Or someone,” you mumble beneath your breath. His brows dart up, and you sheepishly settle the mug down. “You wouldn’t understand.”

“Try me.”

You blink. You don’t really talk about him out loud. Not with Lando. Not with Anastasia. Not even with your own reflection. Everything has always remained with you. A place you knew to be safe because you made it safe. But Mr. Lennon’s eyes prove to you that he’s lived enough lives—enough scenarios—to maybe understand. Even just a fraction. He watches you visibly gulp. And he knows that look. The confusion, the yearning. 

“I’m in love with this boy.”

He hums, leaning back against his wooden chair. “There’s always a boy.”

You look down. “He’s a friend of mine, which makes everything much worse because I can’t ruin that. But for the first time in all my years of living…” Round, glossy eyes stare back at him with a hopeless expression. “I really—really—want to.”

He’s attentive, he listens like some frozen statue, and maybe that’s what fuels your courage to continue speaking. “My entire life, I’ve had crushes, sure, but I’ve never loved someone. Not seriously. So, of course I’m caught off guard when I do feel that for someone who I’m not even in a relationship with.” A playful snort. “God, I feel so stupid.”

The silence that lingers is comforting. Your nerves flow away with the rain, and you feel at peace. Quietly, he clears his throat. “Can I tell you a story?”

A soft sigh. “I’m all ears.”

Gray brows furrow as if trying to recover a distant memory. “I once loved a boy, too.” Your eyes widen. Sure, you knew he was never married, never even had a kid, but you never thought of any reason as to why not. He nods, faintly. “Not many know, and not because I’m ashamed, not by any means…” A single beat. “But because real, sincere feelings are easier to ignore. Because who wants to deal with reality, right? Who wants to confess and be turned away like some dog at your door?”

Exactly, you think, nodding along. “Everyone is always going to be scared of something, but avoidant people like us are terrified about the what-ifs.” He sends a wink. “And I’m living proof that being that way won’t get you nowhere. And you'll realize sooner or later in life that you’d rather be nowhere with someone you love, than nowhere…” His eyes circle the nearly empty kitchen, despite living there for the past twenty years. “...all alone.”

Your chin wobbles. “You know you have me, right? I’m always next door.” A wet laugh follows. “Anyways, I might even join you in this lonely life, eh? Doesn’t sound half bad if I’m doing it with you.”

Tender eyes close slowly before blinking back at you. “No. I want you to be the complete opposite from me. Be different. Tell him how you feel. Even if it costs you a broken heart, tell him. Because I’m telling you right now that a broken heart is always better than the constant desire that will always follow you like the devil.”

A warm droplet rolls down your cheek as you sheepishly laugh, but he doesn’t judge. He never has. Instead, ever the true gentleman, he hands you his handkerchief. “Did you ever get the chance to tell him that you…”

His wrinkles imprint more vividly as he breathes out. “I did, but it didn’t really make the difference I had hoped for. He was already married to someone else.”

A loud sob escapes. “That’s not f-fair. You deserve to be happy with the man you love.”

“I do. But you know what?” You rub the tears away, eyes connecting. “I’ve made peace with the consequences of my own actions.”

By now the rain has died down, and so have you. With one last smile, Mr. Cleve gives your cold hand a soft squeeze.   

“Learn from my mistakes, won’t you?”

-

That same night, as you cried over a bottle of wine, you made your third and final decision. And you would execute it all the next time you saw him, no matter the outcome. 

But now that you spoke about it once to someone, you felt almost invincible. Which is why you called Lando. 

You what? 

A wince. “You can’t tell him, okay? I’m legitimately trusting you with this!” He opens his mouth, but you’re quick to signal him off. “Including Ana.”

“Wow. I thought she’d know.” You shrug because you don’t really have an explanation for not having had confided in her, but you know deep down that you’re not really into playing a game of Cupid, and that’s exactly what she'd turn this into. The Brit nods, sympathetically. “Alright. I won’t tell a single soul.”

“Thank you.”

“Are you going to tell him how you feel?”

His question comes out hesitant—like he’s afraid of scaring you away from the possibility—but it doesn’t. Instead, you nod, to which he’s extra surprised because you’ve never been the kind to. “That’s the main reason I told you any of this. Because I wanted to ask you if you knew if he has a girlfriend or not? Someone he’s trying to pursue? I’d hate to…intervene.”

Lando let’s put a soft smile, dimples imprinting neatly onto his face. “I mean, he’s particularly private—you know him—but I’ve never heard him mention having a girl. It doesn’t seem like he does. Go for it. What do you have to lose?”

“My dignity? A good friend?”

Silently, he grimaces because even he can see how much this all means to you—how much you’re scared. So, to boost up your confidence—which is something he definitely doesn’t lack—he flashes a loopy grin. “He probably likes you, anyways.”

You come to a fast halt. Suddenly, painting your nails isn’t your top priority. “Really? You think so?” He nods, and you can’t help but smile back. “What’d he say?”

“Well, as I already stated before, he keeps his things locked up pretty well. But I do recall one time…” He closes his eyes harshly. Then, he snaps his fingers loudly. “I believe in Hungary. He was on a high. And we shared a bottle of champagne to celebrate. So, he sort of let loose. Like insanely loose.”

“And?” you push, eagerly trying to get whatever he has stuck in his throat out of him. The green eyed boy snickers. 

“He wasn’t very clear, but he did say he had a crush on a girl. Someone he really wanted to get to know. But that  things were a little bit difficult.” You nod, urging him to continue. “I asked why, and he said it was because she had a good heart, or something of that sort? Good intentions? Can’t remember—and that he didn’t want to ruin it.”

Your breath hitches.

And you have a good heart. You could easily be anyone’s dream. 

-

Ironically, you’re huddled in Lando’s flat once again when it happens. Well. Almost happens. It’s filled with a few McLaren members because he insisted on hosting a nice brunch. And it was. Nice, you mean. 

“Pretty,” Anastasia says, sending a soft smack towards your ass. You yelp, swatting her hand away, and pulling your skirt downward. She snickers. “You should tie your hair up more often. Let’s everyone admire such an angel face.”

“Stop it,” you hiss, but can’t hide the pink flush. “But thank you.” 

She grins, eyes crinkling. Black hair sways as she moves to the beat of the music, nursing her drink. “Nice to have a break…?”

“Definitely.”

At some point, she slithers away, leaving you all alone on the balcony. Which was quite lonesome until he came along. Oscar scrunched his nose, meekly. “Sorry.”

“It’s alright. Don’t own this place, do I?”

He lets off a raw chuckle. Deeper than when you first met him, and you come to the realization that a lot about him has changed. His hair is longer, his neck is thicker, and his shoulders are wider. But his smile and eyes remain the same. Boyish.

“Thinking?”

You sigh, admiring the ocean set out right in front of you. “Thinking, yes. A lot these days.”

And if he’s patient enough, he’d notice the way your hands shake. Tiny vibrates, but still.. He’d notice the way you bite down on your lip, brushing it along the way. He’d notice the way you blink feverishly, like even the wind hurts. 

And he is. He is a patient person. So, he does notice. 

“Do you know what song this is?”

Brows furrow, deep in thought. And he’s quick to note that the ticks you had are coming to an easy halt. Mentally, though, you’re cursing yourself out because you do know. You do know the song that flows nicely into your ears, but simply having him next to you is what’s making you forget. How dare me have that kind of power over you?

“I know it,” you start. “But I can’t seem to remember right now...”

The brunette gently nods his head along to the beat. His eyes close, and his hair delicately tussles, and suddenly he’s the only thing you see. “Sex,” he says. You blush, ripping your gaze away before he catches you in the act. Oscar laughs. “It’s Sex by The 1975. How could I forget?”

“Oh yeah.”

The guitar screeches when the volume somehow gets louder, despite not being inside. “Would have killed me not to get it right. My sister listens to it all the time.”

Plump lips pressed together. “You have a sister?” But you know the answer to that question, of course you do. You’re a girl. You’ve done your research, even when you pinched yourself not to. 

He nods. “Three, actually. Talk about a headache, am I right?”

And it’s almost nostalgic—your laugh. Like it might be one he heard in his past life, but in his current one, can't remember. But it’s okay if he doesn’t because  at least he knows he can learn it. And he has. 

“You look really pretty when you laugh that way. Insanely so.”

You can’t seem to register his words. The way they come off as soft and ginger as they could possibly get. As if he really means it. And for the first time since your first interaction with him almost two years ago—you sort of believe he might. 

“You’re just saying that?” you question as some test, does eyes challenging him into finally spitting out the truth. The same truth you carry. He shakes his head, taking a step closer.

“I mean it.” 

Like a sudden magnet, you two are hesitantly connecting closer and closer together before either of you could stop it. Not that either of you would. The Australian towers over you, almost caging you like some endangered species he’s afraid of slipping away and going extinct. 

You swallow, lashes fluttering, and he smiles at the sight—melts. You’ve always been reserved. Quiet. Shy. And so has he, so he can’t really judge you, but he’s willing to be different—just once in his life—to get what he’s been wanting for a long time now. 

His eyes follow your lips. Admires how plump they are. How they’re the perfect shade of pink. So, when he leans in and you don’t pull away? He thinks he might explode with the need to kiss you. One time. If he’s lucky, just—once. 

“You’ve always been my dre—”

“There you two are!” Anastasia cheers, zigzagging to you both as an apologetic Lando follows right after. By now, Oscar has jumped far away from you, and you’re left feeling empty and lost, blinking at an alarming rate. “We’ve been looking all over!” A hiccup. “What were you two doing?” Your lips remain open but Oscar is the first to let out an awkward cough.

“We were just talking about…logistics!” He turns to you, sparing you a pleading look. “W-weren’t we?”

You finally come to, nodding slowly, eyes buzzing between the two McLaren drivers and your best friend, who wobbles from left to right. “Yeah, I….we—logistics, and whatnot.” A beat. “Doesn’t matter.”

He flinches, avoiding your doleful stare. Oscar forces such a bright smile—the kind that can’t go unnoticed by even the biggest idiot on earth—and nods in agreement. “She’s right. It doesn’t matter.”

Lando analyzes you, then his teammate, and wishes he had done more to keep Anastasia from barging in. But really, was this some sign? Maybe you were some delusional little girl who truly believed she had a chance with the boy next door. The one everyone wants, but only one will get to have.

And let’s face it. 

It was never going to be you.

-

You’d make an excellent detective in your next life, you’re sure of it. But for now, you’re just some brokenhearted assistant who mourns the death of her what-ifs. Someone who is really good at picking up on clues. 

It’s right before Christmas—right before Anastasia’s birthday party—and you’re curling your hair quite poorly. You daze off every now and then, you apply mascara almost zombie-like, and you’re dreading even showing up. Have you been avoiding him? Yes. Yes, you have. Have you been good at it? Only the best, if we’re being truthful here. And were you ready to face him without feeling the need to bolt? 

Nope. Not in this lifetime nor the next.

But still, you force yourself to finish getting ready because this isn’t about you. This isn’t about him. It’s about being there for your friend. 

Mindlessly, on the drive there, pouting in the back of the yellow cab, you click onto Instagram and the first thing you do is smile at the birthday post Anastasia had posted not even five minutes ago. You scroll, smile wider, and then come to a harsh pause. The kind that makes your throat close up. The kind that makes you stop breathing. 

The kind that lets you know—

You’ve lost.

His arms are tied around her waist, his head his nuzzles between her neck, but you can still tell it’s him. His hazel hair can’t go unnoticed. Maybe to someone else, but not you. 

Then, as if all odds are against you, your feed refreshes and you’re left far more dumbfounded. 

She appears in most of his pictures because why not? It’s his girlfriend's birthday, it goes as expected. Museum dates. Pictures of them with each other's families. And you feel greedy like never before because—why couldn't that be you? 

Venmo or cash? You look up, making eye contact with your taxi driver who looks as tired as you are. You press your lips together into a fine line. Digging into your purse, you grab all that you have and jump out of the cab. 

It’s chilly out and the lights are beautifully hung, but it doesn’t do you any good. You just want to go home. Curl up in bed and die. Dig a hole—self-suffocate—who cares. And you’re ready to turn around, go back and apologize to Mr. Lennon for not doing better. You really thought you had it in you, but it just wasn’t enough. 

But then, the door swings open and Pierre curls a brow. Kika waves from behind “He thought it was some serial killer. He’s been watching too much Dateline.” The brunette scurries over, throwing her arms around you and takes a step back. “Come in before you freeze to death.”

But even that didn’t sound too bad. You sheepishly thank her, following the couple back in. A string of jazz cradles the warm lit living room and the scent of apple pie makes you inhale sharply. A giggle stirs up behind you. Anastasia grins.

“You’re here!”

All of a sudden, you hate her smile. You hate her laugh. You hate her entirely. But you also don’t. You can’t hate her smile. You can’t hate her laugh. You can’t hate her entirely. Because even though you feel like she owes you loyalty, that’s not really true. She had zero idea about your feelings towards Oscar and she won. Fair and square. That doesn’t mean you had to like it.

“Happy birthday, Annie.” Hugging her, you giggle against her ear when she jumps up and down, nearly knocking you two over. “For you. From me.”

She wiggles her neat brows, green eyes buzzing with suspicion. “Is it a vibrator again?”

You blush. “No. Even better.”

“Wow! Even better?” She rips the small bag open, eyes widened double in their size. “Oh my God, you got me the Mary Jane’s I wanted?”

“Well, you kept bugging me, and so I thought—”

“D'accord, je comprends. I love them, thank you.” Grabbing your wrist, she tugged you into the empty hallway, and you can already feel her buzzing with excitement. Your stomach churns. “I wanted to tell you as soon as he asked me out—I really did—but he insisted on keeping it between us two for a while, and I told him no, I had to tell you, but then I understood that maybe it was for the best, and I’ve always liked him—”

Every word makes you feel smaller and smaller because the light in her eyes gives it all away. She, too—much like you—is in love with Oscar Piastri. You shake your head, sharing a light laugh. “I totally get it. There’s no need to explain.” 

The green eyed girl visibly relaxes, shoulders rolling back. “I knew you’d understand. Oscar was right—you have a good heart.”

Ana, Yuki just spilled wine on your coach, Daniel rattles from the other side of the room, pointing accusingly towards his teammate who rubs the cushion with his Dior sweatshirt. She sighs. Be right back!

At that moment, you don’t care if you wind up with a deadly case of hypothermia, you simply walk out of the warm house.

“What are you doing? You’re going to get sick.”

Screwing your eyes shut seems to be the only answer to help your mending heart into not breaking completely. And fuck him—fuck him for sounding so goddamn caring. 

You turn with a soft smile, shrugging nonchalantly. “Won’t really make a difference, I already feel sick.” You cough for emphasis. “See?” Oscar rolls his eyes, ignoring the poor excuse, and hands you his puffer jacket. You shake your head. Take it. “No.” He frowns. Why not? Rocks crunch with every step he takes. “It wouldn’t be right.”

“What? Borrowing a jacket from a friend?”

“Borrowing my best friend's boyfriend’s jacket.”

His stomach drops, rolling with a wave of anxiety as he tries to not show his uncomfort. “She told you?”

Your teeth grind harder. “That, and you both posted about a thousand pictures together. Wasn’t that difficult to understand what was going on between you two.” A sore laugh. “I’m happy for you two, though. Really. I am.”

“You are?”

Sending a nasty glare that you tried to keep in for the life in you, you turn over to face him, nose rosy. “Yes. Over the fucking moon.”

He flinches. “Listen, about that day at Lando’s house. I-I-I was caught up in the moment. I shouldn’t have said what I said, o-or tried to kiss you—”

“You’re a phony, you know that, right?”

Another flinch. “I’m trying to apologize to you. I’m sorry. I feel bad, okay?”

Tears well up inside your eyes. Somewhere deep inside your chest, you feel a harsh sting, and still that doesn’t compare to his pity. You let out a scoff, crossing your arms. “You feel bad, for what? For messing with my emotions, or for getting with my best friend?” You poke his chest hard, but he remains as still as a brick wall, a pained expression mapped out. “Which one is it?”

“For all of it!” He grabs your face, making you freeze under his fire-like touch. “I loved you—God—I loved every inch of you. Your humor, your heart, your jokes that never land, the awkward giggles that follow afterward—everything. There was not a single thing you could do that could have pushed me away.”

“Then what happened?” you whisper, eyes tracing his pink lips, trying to enjoy his hands. They’re calloused, sure, but they’re by far the closest thing you’ve had, so nothing else matters. His breath hitches, soft eyes looking down at you in complete defeat. You grimace. “Why was I not enough for you to try?”

His hands drop. Brown locks shakes as he rubs his eyes, like this is all some part of a fever dream. Maybe it was. The Australian frowns. “I could ask you the same thing.”

It’s a slap in the face, and it burns like never before because you know he’s right. “I wanted to tell you!” A shaky breath. “I was going to tell you.”

Leaves rustle. “You were?”

“Yes,” you confess, nodding adamantly. “That day at Lando’s place—I wanted to tell you.”

The McLaren driver bites his tongue hard, blinking rapidly. “W-what would you have said?”

“That I loved you too.”

He can’t hide his pain just by hearing those words. He scrunches his nose. He nods robotically. And he keeps his eyes trained towards the ground, like he’s in the middle of solving a puzzle. 

“I really did like you. From the moment we met.” Finally, he looks up, round eyes searching for any sign of intimacy. If there’s any left—any you still save for him. “Do you remember the day we first met?”

“A little bit. Yeah.”

A second ticks by. “I do. Remember it all, I mean. Think back to it quite often.” He lets out a boyish grin, crinkles forming, making your heart flutter. “You took my breath away.” 

And as if humanly possible, despite the icy air, your cheekbones flush harder as you bite back a giddy smile. “You barely even noticed me—”

“You wore a white ribbon. Hair half up, half down. Denim overalls with your initials sewn onto them. Emerald earrings.” You blink, clearly taken aback by his polished memory. His eyes soften. “I’ll always notice you.”

-

Anastasia pecks the Australians cheek, giggling after each one. Oscar smiles, letting out a sheepish laugh. From the corner, seated next to Lando, you sigh sadly. The Brit bumps his shoulder up against yours. What’s wrong? But you must not have heard him, or you ignore him, but he, too, has eyes. 

“I swear I didn’t know a thing about them,” he whispers. “If I had, I would have warned you, you know that—”

“Lando,” you cut him off, voice weak and mellow. “It’s okay, it’s not your fault.”

He frowns. “I know that, but—”

“It’s not your fault,” you repeat, this time more firm. He swallows, nodding hesitantly. With a soft laugh, you poke his ribs and he’s quick to let out a yelp. “Just want to forget, you know?”

Lando hums. “Understood.”

Anastasia clinks her spoon against her mug. The one you each painted differently in that one pottery class years ago. She grins. “I’m so glad all of you could make it, really, it means a lot.” Her eyes crinkle sweetly towards Oscar who traces shapes down her back. She blushes for him—the same way you do. “I feel like…I finally have everything I ever wanted.”

A string of oohh's echo the room, whistles ringing. She laughs, head falling back, and he lets out a single chuckle, rosy cheeks making everyone grow louder. Meanwhile, you stay silent, focusing on Lando’s shoes. The Brit winces, rubbing your shoulder awkwardly. 

Daniel yodels, raising his beer. “Well, in that case, I feel like I do too!” He hiccups, making Pierre and Yuki snicker. “A hot girlfriend, good ‘ol friends, and a nice pair of abs.”

“They are nice,” Lily mumbles, earning her a soft smack from Alex who rolls his eyes. 

Carlos cackles. “Me next—um, okay. A good team, my girlfriend, and…and—my hair.”

“Narcissist,” Lando whispers, trying to get a good laugh out of you. And it works. You giggle, muffling the sound with the back of your hand. Oscar perks up, orbs floating over to where you and the Brit whisper to one another, smiles only growing wider. His jaw clenches. Either way, you tune out all the constant chatter after hearing how Pierre was grateful for having a massive cock. 

“I really hope nothing changes between us.”

You laugh. “I think it might be a bit too late for that.”

The Australian scratches his shoes against the wet pavement. He agrees. He won’t admit it, but he agrees. Everything has changed. Timidly, he glances over at you, biting the inside of his cheek. His gaze burns—just like always—and you turn to face him.

By now your tears have dried, but your heartbreak still continues. Something deep inside tells you that it’ll continue for as long as you live. You despise yourself for letting any of this get out of hand. For letting your fear of rejection play a big part in losing him. He smiles.

“I love you, okay?”

You smile. “I love you, too.”

Your voice sounds sweet—just like honey. And if it’s a lie, just to make him feel okay, he’s a grateful bloke. He might not have your heart—not completely—and he might not have your hand in his, but he’s okay with that. Because he’s heard all he’s needed to hear. And he can live at peace.

Oscar grins, leaning down to kiss your cheek. It’s tender, just the way you pictured it. You smell like flowers, just like he had dreamt. He pulls away. “You can always talk to me. Whenever. I’ll always be there for you.”

“Thank you. But I won’t bother you too much.” His brows furrow, mouth opening to protest before you wave him off with a tired smile. “Don’t want to vent to you about…well—you.”

“What about you?” Anastasia squeals, making your jump in place. 

“What about me?” 

She rolls her eyes, theatrically. Oscar remains as still as a statue, enjoying the moment to admire you without having to explain why—all eyes were on you, after all. “Have you ever gotten everything you ever wanted?”

Wistfully, your eyes look up, connecting with the ones you know so well. You admire his boyish features one last time before looking down onto your lap and then focusing on Anastasia.

“No. But I once got very close.”

taglist: @blueflorals @starmanv @coolio2195 @lovrsm @weekendlusting@chanshintien @brune77e @myownwritings @timmychalametsstuff @milasexutoire@alesainz @c-losur3 @darleneslane @togazzo @urfavnoirette @namgification @lpab @d3kstar @anniee-mr @nebarious @notkaryna

[ashwhowrites]

Could you possibly do a part 2 of the pick me, choose me, love me fic that you did for Eddie x reader

I had a few people wanting a part 2 so I hope this will be a great ending for everyone!

Pick me, choose me, love me part 2

Y/N yawned as she opened her eyes. She was confused at first but then remembered where she was and why. She felt her stomach sink as she thought about Eddie. It killed her to know her best friend betrayed her and she felt sick at the thought that he knew how she felt for months and never said a thing.

She blinked away her tears as she felt a body moving next to her. She looked over her shoulder, letting out a small laugh as Steve's face was buried in the pillows. She rolled over to face him, closing her eyes to try to get more sleep.

Steve started groaning so she opened her eyes. She smiled when his barely open eyes looked at her. He gave her a tired smile, his hair all over the place as he wrapped his arm around her and pulled her closer.

"Morning," he said, his voice low and deep from just waking up. "Did you get any sleep?"

"I did. Thanks for letting me crash here," she said, a sad smile on her face. "Guess I should start figuring out what the hell I'm going to do."

"I know what you need to do first," he said, slowly sitting up. The sheet moved and exposed his hairy chest as he smiled over at her.

"What's that?" She asked, trying to keep her eyes respectful.

"Breakfast" he whispered. He laughed as she pushed his shoulder.

"Just when I thought you were going to be helpful!" She teased. She got out of bed and groaned. "Fuck, I don't have clothes or anything."

"I'll drive you home and you can grab a few things. We'll go to breakfast and plan what you want to do next." Steve offered, and Y/N smiled down at him.

"Thank you, Steve. For all of this and helping."

Steve slipped out of bed and walked over to pull her into a hug.

~

Y/N sighed as they walked up to her door, Eddie's car was up front so she knew she was going to face him.

"You can do this. Just go straight to your room and grab what you need." Steve encouraged. She nodded and unlocked the door.

Steve followed behind her as they walked in. Y/N held her breath as she walked into the living room, Eddie and Kathy were cuddled on the couch watching TV. Upon seeing her, Eddie stood up shocked. Kathy grumbled as her body slumped against the couch.

"Y/N?"

"I'm just here to grab a few things and I'm gone." She snapped, rolling her eyes when she looked at Kathy. She walked to her room and Steve stayed behind. Y/N knew Eddie picked Kathy but it pained her to see that after the huge blowout, he was still right by her side.

"Eddie, Kathy" Steve greeted

"Playing the knight and shining armor, Harrington? I mean how long has she been running to you and she still has no feelings for you!" Eddie smirked

"Let's see," Steve pretended to think, "I think the first time was when you got completely drunk and told her that sometimes you have dreams about marrying her. Oh! Then a minute later, your tongue was down a girl's throat! That was maybe freshmen year? So um since then!" Steve said as he snapped his fingers. "I don't need her to have feelings for me to care about her. It doesn't give me a purpose to be a cocky son of a bitch like you."

Eddie's smirk dropped and he felt anger rush through him. "I've always cared about her. Her having a crush on me didn't change any way that I treated her!"

"That's true," Steve said as he stepped closer. "It's her that changed the way you treated Y/N." He whispered, his eyes looking over Eddie's shoulder to Kathy.

"You're pathetic, Harrington" Eddie growled, "she has never looked twice in your direction and you think that'll change because she's hurting? You'll just be a rebound. You'll never be me."

"You think I want to be you?" Steve laughed, "She runs away from you and comes straight to me. She comes to me for comfort, for love, for support. You fucked up, man. If she wants a rebound, I'll give her a rebound. I'll give her every damn reason to never speak to you again. You got Kathy, you're not the winner here."

"You'd take advantage of her and fuck her?" Eddie growled, shoving Steve's body.

"Be careful there Eddie, sounds like you might be jealous," Steve winked. He loved edging Eddie on. "I'd never take advantage of her, I'm nothing like you."

"Steve, I'm ready to go," Y/N said as she walked out with a bag.

"Yeah, me too," Steve said

"Y/N, can we please talk?" Eddie asked, ignoring the pain he felt when she stood next to Steve and held his arm for comfort. She used to hold his arm when she needed comfort.

Y/N wanted to say yes, but seeing Kathy on her old couch reminded her nothing was going to change and she'd keep getting hurt.

"Nothing we need to say. Once I figure out where I'm going to stay, I'll be here to pack everything up. Enjoy your life, Eddie." She said sadly, tugging on Steve's arm.

Eddie watched as they walked out, a different feeling swarming around his stomach.

~

"I think if I moved a few blocks down, it should still be in my price range," Y/N said, cutting up her eggs.

"Do you really want to deal with that? And you'll have to find a roommate." Steve explained, then shoved a mouthful of waffles in his mouth.

"What else can I do? Staying with Eddie is not an option. He'll probably have Kathy move in so I don't think he'll give me the place."

"Live with me," Steve shrugged

Y/N choked on her water, coughing as she set down her cup.

"You don't want me living with you. I'm going to be a mess with all my emotions and you deserve a break some days," she joked, but a sad reality to her words.

"I'll never need a break from you. You've been staying at my place for years when you need it. The only difference is that it's your place now too." Steve explained

"I don't know. What about when you want girls around? You don't need a sobbing girl across the hall." Y/N argued.

"I want you there," Steve said as he reached over and held her hand. "Give it a chance before you go out and spend all your money. It's a free trial!" Steve joked

He smiled when she let out a laugh. "Okay, fine. I'll be your trail roommate!"

~~~

It didn't take long for Y/N and Steve to spend every moment together. She always felt happiest around Steve and she forgot how good it felt. He always had her smiling and laughing, and it was refreshing.

After a week, Y/N forced herself back to work. She wasn't sure how it would go now that she and Eddie weren't talking. Or at least she wasn't, he still called every day. She was worried he would be sitting at the bar like he always did, she wasn't sure if she could handle seeing him.

"What do I even say? Can I ignore him? Or do I have to sit there and serve him drinks like he didn't break my heart!" Y/N ranted as she got herself ready for work. Steve sat on her newly claimed bed, admiring her as she brushed through her hair frantically.

"Would you feel more at ease if I came with you?" Steve asked, "If he gets out of line, I'll cut in."

Y/N smiled at him through the mirror, "You'd do that for me? I'm sure there's a better way to spend your Friday night."

"I'd do anything for you, doll." He smiled

~

"So, how long are you going to wait until you tell her the truth?" Robin asked, playing with the small umbrella in her drink.

Robin and Steve were sitting at the bar, keeping Y/N company throughout her shift. The bar was busy and packed so she was able to keep her mind off Eddie. And it helped that he still hadn't shown.

"What do you mean?" Steve asked, Robin smirked as his eyes stayed on Y/N as she walked through the bar.

"Can you stop staring for a second and talk to me?" Robin joked, hitting Steve's arm.

Steve blinked and looked at Robin, "happy?"

"Yes, and you know exactly what I mean. You can't torture yourself by never telling her you are in love with her." Robin said she could see the emotions changing in Steve's eyes.

"I know and I will tell her. But she's still hurting right now and throwing that on her would be inappropriate. I want her to heal."

"No, you want her to be over Eddie." Robin corrected

"You're a pain in the ass," Steve groaned

"Drinks?" Y/N asked as she leaned over the bar to grab Steve's beer. He coughed as her cleavage poured out of the tiny tank top the bar made her wear.

Robin snickered and Steve was quick to kick her with his foot.

"For you," Y/N smiled as she placed the beer on Steve's napkin, he went to grab it and his fingers gently touched hers. Y/N couldn't help but let her fingers linger before she pulled away. Snapping back into reality as Robin coughed.

"Another one for you, Rob?" Y/N asked politely

"I'm good, gorgeous." Robin winked

Y/N winked back and went to help other customers.

"Do you have to flirt with her right in front of me?" Steve teased

"Let the show begin," Robin said with a smirk as she nodded her head towards the front. Steve looked to the door and there Eddie was walking in.

Steve glared flames into Eddie as he walked further into the bar and took a seat on the other side. Steve smiled when she walked right past Eddie and came to him.

"What do I do? I'm panicking" Y/N whispered, trying her best not to look over her shoulder.

"Want me to ask him to leave?" Steve asked, already standing up

"No!" Y/N said, "I don't need you guys fighting. It's my problem, I need to be an adult and just face him."

"I'll be right here if you need me. Just call me over," Steve said as he sat back down. She leaned over and kissed his cheek.

"Thank you," she said

Robin watched as she left. "He seems pissed. You really get under his skin, don't you?" she asked

"He doesn't like that she realized she doesn't need him," Steve shrugged as he sipped on his beer

~

"Is he your new bodyguard or does he just follow you around like a love-sick puppy?" Eddie scoffed

"What do you want to drink?" Y/N asked, ignoring his comment as she grabbed a glass

"You might not be talking to me right now, but I'm still your best friend and we can work this out," Eddie explained

"Are you going to break up with her?"

"Why does that have to be the only outcome?"

"Not understanding why tells me there's nothing worth working out. If you were my best friend you wouldn't have hurt me while you knew I have feelings for you. It took me too damn long to see that you don't care about me as much as you say you do. You picked Kathy, you get to live with that choice. And when you wake up and finally realize you picked a fake bitch over the girl who actually loves you, don't you even think about me." She spat, slamming down his glass of beer.

She felt proud as she turned around and walked over to Steve

Eddie gripped his glass as he fumed watching her laughing with Steve.

~~~

A few weeks passed and things were changing. The more time Y/N spent with the Steve, the less she thought of Eddie. She was moving on from him and slowly falling into Steve.

She realized it all on a random Sunday. Steve had his friends over for the football game, everyone was cheering and having a good time. Y/N didn't really watch football but she was dressed in one of Steve's jerseys, sitting next to him on the couch. Her legs were sprawled out on his lap, and his large left hand was softly tracing shapes on her bare skin. His eyes were focused on the TV, his mouth running as he talked with his friends. He was occupied by everything around him, but his touch never left her.

There was a knock on the door and Steve got up to answer it

"Hey Y/N," Robin greeted as she walked in with more beer

"Hey girl," Y/N smiled, she stood up so Robin could take her spot. The couch was full and Y/N prepared to head off to her room.

Steve sat down and cracked open a beer, within seconds he was lost in the game. But no matter how occupied he was, he would always know if she was missing.

"Whatcha doing over there? Come sit," Steve laughed as Y/N stood in the hallway

"Robin needs a spot and this is your friend time. I can hang in my room, don't worry about me!" Y/N shrugged

"I can grab a stool from the kitchen!" Robin offered, going to stand up but Steve pushed her back down.

"Nonsense, there is room for both my girls, come here," Steve said as he waved her over

Y/N slowly walked over, she leaned down to whisper in Steve's ear

"I don't want to be rude and make all your friends move," Y/N looked around the couch, all the boys zoned in on the TV and she didn't want to disturb that.

Steve didn't say anything, waiting until she stood up. Once she did, he turned her around and grabbed her hips, throwing her right down on his lap. She squealed in surprise.

Steve wrapped one arm around her and moved up to whisper in her ear,

"This okay?"

The feeling of his hard body against her back, the raspiness in his whisper, his breath tickling her ear, and the way his hand rested on the inside of her thigh made her think of Steve in ways she never had.

"Yeah, it's okay," she said, her voice cracking as she squirmed. Her eyes were on the TV but her mind was busy imagining Steve's hard body in different scenarios.

Ever since then, a crush on Steve formed and kept getting out of control.

~~~

More weeks passed and Y/N was a mess for Steve. She tried to keep it under control, cussing herself out for crushing on all the guys she moved in with. She knew how bad it ended last time and did not want to lose Steve too.

But he made it so hard

It was his birthday and he wanted to go clubbing. So now Y/N was slipping on her tightest dress, with her best heels, and perfecting her hair and makeup.

"Hey, are you re-" Steve cut himself off as his jaw dropped. He stared at her as she finished her lipstick. She stood up and turned around to face him. She shivered at the way he looked her up and down, once again making controlling her crush harder to do.

"Yes, let's go!" she rushed out, speeding past him so she could feel herself breathe again.

They were at the club for a few hours, a few drinks, and a lot of dances. They weren't drunk, but their liquid courage seemed to make them more free with each other. Y/N would never be grinding on Steve's body if she was fully sober. And Steve wouldn't be sucking on her neck if he was fully sober. But the heat between them was too much to ignore, the sexual tension needed to be acted upon, or neither would be able to move on.

So lost in lust, neither remembered how they got home. But it didn't matter as they pushed through their front door with their lips locked. They made out as they walked to Steve's room, pushing open his door. Steve pulled away as they walked towards his bed, she stopped when her legs hit the mattress.

"Is this what you want?" He asked, his chest moving rapidly as he breathed hard. She admired his red lips, loving the way she could see just how hard they were kissing. Then she looked into his eyes, so dark and swimming with lust. She wished she was looking at herself through his eyes because she must have looked beautiful by the way he couldn't look away.

"Make me feel good, birthday boy," she whispered, a smirk on her lips as he moaned. She gasped when he pushed her body against the bed and climbed on top of her.

His mouth was on hers as his hands moved under her dress. She moaned as he teased her cunt over her thin underwear. His long fingers slid up and down, his mouth sucking away her breath as she panted underneath him.

Neither wanted to spend time with foreplay, both early tearing each other's clothes off. He was painfully hard and she had never felt so wet in her life. She was running her fingers through his hairy chest and her other hand scratching down his back. His head buried in her neck as he pushed himself inside of her.

He started slow, memorizing how she felt wrapped around him. He had been dreaming of this for years and he didn't want to rush anything. But the way she moaned, begging him for more, and whispering dirty words in his ear made him want to lose himself inside of her.

"Steve please, I can handle it," she begged. He felt amazing don't get her wrong, but she wanted him to fuck her like an animal.

"I've wanted this for so long, I want to feel everything," he said against her lips, his forehead softly pressed against hers. She smiled at his words, feeling her heart burst.

"I promise this won't be the only time. Show me how desperately you want this, let yourself go," she said, reaching up to hold his cheek

He turned his head to kiss her palm

"Tell me if you need me to stop," he said

The second she nodded, his mouth attacked her chest. She moaned out as he bit down on her nipple, tugging it was his teeth as he drilled his cock inside of her.

"Fuck yes," she moaned, smiling as she felt pleasure running all throughout her body. He was long and thick, feeling like heaven inside her as he fucked her fast.

"You feel amazing, baby," He moaned

His bed was smacking the wall

His balls were smacking against her skin

Her moans were turning into screams

"Make me cum, Steve. Make me cum," she whined, throwing her head back

"Gladly" he smirked, and he slid himself out of her. Giving her no time to whine in protest as he flipped her around. She clawed at his pillows as he pushed her hips up, her ass in the air.

She gasped in pleasure as he slipped himself back inside of her, keeping a rapid pace as he moved his right hand down to her clit. She felt her eyes roll in the back of her head as he swirled his fingers against her clit, adding to the pleasure that was building in her stomach.

"Yes, yes, yes" she chanted like a prayer as she felt herself getting close. Then he slipped out of her again and she wanted to cry. But then she felt his wet tongue pushed inside of her.

She cried into the pillows as he tongue fucked her and kept his fingers rubbing circles on her clit. She didn't have time to warn him, her thighs shook and she felt everything snap.

Steve moaned as he felt her cum soak his face. He happily ate her cum, humming at her sweet taste. He groaned as he felt his cock twitch, he pulled back and pushed himself back inside her wet cunt.

She yelped at the overstimulation, crying into the sheets as he chased his orgasm.

"Fuck, you're gonna make me cum so hard" he moaned

"Fucking," thrust "Gorgeous," thrust, "best" thrust, "sex of," thrust, "my life,"

"Oh my god" Y/N whined as she felt Steve cumming inside of her. She could feel his warm cum painting her walls, every drop inside of him, her cunt milking him until he was empty.

His sweaty body collapsed against her back. He panted as he slowly stood up with shaky legs. She rolled her body over, a blissful smile on her face. Her eyes were heavy as she looked at him through her lashes, his sweaty and toned body standing over her.

He looked down at her in awe

She wiggled her finger to call him closer, he listened and leaned down. She smiled as she leaned up and softly kissed his lips.

~

The next morning Steve was in the kitchen making breakfast, his chest bare and a pair of sweatpants low on his hips. When he moved a certain way he could feel the scratches on his back and he'd hiss at the sting.

He was lost in memory when he heard a knock on the door. He turned off the stove and walked over to the door. He opened it and was surprised to see Eddie.

"I need to talk to Y/N," he demanded

"Hello to you too Eddie, and I don't think that is a good idea," Steve explained, ready to shut the door but Eddie stopped the door with his hand

"I don't care what you think, I need to talk to her," Eddie argued

"Well, she's not here so bye," Steve again tried to close the door but Eddie wasn't having any of it.

"I feel like I can barely walk, Steve. Jesus chr-EDDIE!" Y/N froze as she walked out of the bedroom. Her eyes locked between Eddie and Steve, both men looking mad as ever, but for different reasons.

Eddie felt his heart race as she stumbled as she walked, her words, and the dark marks on her neck. Eddie didn't take long to connect the dots; all he saw was red.

"YOU FUCKER!" Eddie screamed, taking Steve down to the floor. Y/n screamed in panic as Eddie and Steve began to brawl on the ground in front of her.

"EDDIE GET OFF!" Y/N screamed, grabbing his arm and shoving him away from Steve. Eddie stood on his feet, glaring as she helped Steve stand up. She frowned at the little blood that fell from Steve's nose.

"What the hell is your problem!" Y/N spat, turning around as her glare landed on Eddie

"He's my fucking problem," Eddie hissed, pointing his finger at Steve as he seethed in anger. "I knew all along that fucker liked you. Sitting in the corner, being a shoulder for you to cry on so he can make moves on you!"

"Why do you care so much? It's not like Y/N is your girlfriend, Eddie. I'm not in the wrong for going after what I want. You've got your girlfriend to focus on so leave us alone" Steve spat

"Kathy and I broke up"

Y/N whipped her head to look at Eddie, pure shock on her face

"What?" Y/N asked

Eddie looked at Y/N, softly grabbing her hand. Steve held himself back from tearing Eddie's hand off.

"I miss you," he said, his eyes staring deep into Y/N's. "I realized everything too late, I know that. But you changed my life and I'm never going to get over losing you. I should have listened when you warned me and I regret nothing more than picking her over you. I'm jealous, I'll be honest. The idea of you and him," Eddie said as he nodded his head towards Steve with a pained look, "breaks my heart. I thought I was so angry about it because I wanted to protect you, but I know that's not why."

"Eddie, what are you saying?" Y/N gulped

"I'm saying that I'm jealous and angry about Steve because I have feelings for you. I think I always have, it just took so damn long to realize it. I love you and I'm sorry for all the pain I put you through. I want you to come home, and I want to work this out. I want you."

Steve could feel his heart-shattering in his chest with every word. It hurt to see the look in Y/N's eyes. It was everything she wanted to hear ever since she fell for him. Eddie confessed he was in love with her, and Steve had no idea where that left him.

"Eddie I-I" Y/N stuttered, she was honestly at a loss for words

"Just say you love me too," Eddie begged, pushing his forehead against hers, he held her face in place. His rough hands on her delicate cheeks

Steve had to look away, the water filling his eyes as he tried to hold back his tears

"I love you too," she whispered

Steve bit down on his lip as hard as he could, silencing his sobs as his body shook. He did everything for her, he treated her the way she deserved, and he still wasn't going to get the girl.

"But I'm not in love with you anymore"

Her words made both boys freeze

Y/N stepped back, taking Eddie's hands off of her.

"What?" Eddie whispered, a pained look in his eyes as she kept stepping back

"I spent years wanting to hear you say that, but I've never felt loved by you. But Steve," she said, walking over to him. She softly grabbed his hand, "he shows me how much he loves me every day"

"I understand," Eddie choked out

Steve and Y/N watched as Eddie left, the door closing behind him

"So, you've uh liked me that long?" Y/N asked, a small smile on her face as she turned to look at Steve

"Just a bit," he shrugged

Y/N stood in front of him, dropping his hand to reach up and wipe away his tears

"I like you too, you know just a bit," she joked, loving the way he smiled and laughed

"I was preparing to lose you" Steve sighed

Y/N nodded and cupped his cheek, she leaned in and kissed his lips. "You won't. I pick you"

@dreamerjj @lotrefcp @daisy-munson @buckybarnessweetheart @munsongirl97 @mugloversonly @duncanhillscoffeecups

@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @somethingvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @thegemaqua @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila @stusdollface93 @gretavankleep37 @bellaisswagger @arlxt @ineedmentalhelp123

[dropsnectar]

Pollen and Potions: Bee-men x afab!reader

PART TWO

Some fluff and a little spice. Don't know if ill do the smut in part three or four, we will see how things develop. Either way it gets hot so! You were warned!

You woke up the next morning with a huge headache. Not a great start to a day where you were scheduled to do large batches of magic.

You swore as you got up, swore as you made your coffee, swore as you did some last minute rereading of the soil testing spell you already knew by heart.

You tried to nap, but couldn't get your sore muscles to relax, so Lyith found you in quite a disgruntled mood. He frowned.

“We can do this tomorrow if you are not feeling well. You smell like you are about to throw a fit.”

You shook your head and took a long, cleansing breath.

“I'm really fine. Im excited about meeting your friend though. Its not everyday you meet a Bee-man.” You cracked a small smile.

Lyith gave you one last appraising look before sighing and beckoning you out of the house. Once you were on the porch step he held out his arms. You stared at him, eyes raised.

“Uh, do you want another hug? For support or something?”

His nose flared and he seemed to be failing to keep a straight face.

“It'll be faster to fly you to the hive. Its a good five mile walk for you if we don't. And with so much to do, I doubt my friend is going to be patient with us.”

You blinked.

“Oh. Um. Okay.” Your heart tightened. You started to feel a little sick.

“If you are scared of heights, I will stay close to the ground. It is faster that way anyway.”

He reached forward and patted your head affectionately. “I don't have to dodge branches that way, so it is a… “win win”? That's how the saying goes, right?”

His hand stayed on your head and you had to admit it made you feel a little braver. His smile was so gentle, it sent a wave of calm through you. 

“Yeah I can do that.” You swallow and force the ends of your lips upwards. 

Lyith holds his arms out again, and you walk into them, letting him hoist you up, and take off. The sound of his wings were particularly loud now and you noticed it had a habit of spreading his lemony scent around. 

You quickly diverted your attention to the feeling of the wind stretching back your skin. Which only made you realize that Lyith had nuzzled his neck close to your own face. You had to admit that the warmth felt nice against the cold spring air. It may have been Lyiths own way of making sure you didn't freeze too much. Your mind lingered on his touch, which was acting like a scarf, in the face of rollercoaster-like winds. Your stomach turned.

It was only 6 minutes until Lyith dropped you off in a small glade. The clearings floor was covered in grasses and large orange flowers. The flowers themselves were funnel shaped with purple star like splotches in the middle. The air was fragrant. 

Lyith grabbed your arm gently. Out from the other side of the clearing came what could only be another bee-man. Lyiths face lit up and he floated upwards, making a few excitable jerking motions. The other Bee-men copied his motions and let out a lovely hum sound, which Lyith harmonized. The two both looked at you and Lyith started the introductions.

“This is the witch I was talking about. And this-” he gestured to the bee-man by giving them a clingy hug. “-is Rena. She is a scholar, and also looks after a quarter of these… gardens, is the term you use. She has given you permission to use magic in her garden.”

“Only if you show me you can help, that is. Witches are so rare these days. I have to measure your…” she seemed to be chewing the word, “Qual-it-ications?”

“Qualifications.” Corrected Lyith, adjust some Rena's long strawberry blond hair. She had the same big black eyes as Lyith, but her form was shorter. Sturdier. But just as fluffy. Unlike Lyith, she had a second pair of hands, which she had crossed over her chest. Her gaze was curious, but her nose was slightly wrinkled in concern.

“Lyith speaks human the best of us. You are lucky to have met such a good orator. Now. What is it that you exactly plan to do?” her voice was deep and textured, as she jutted out her jaw.

You paused for a moment and held up a hand. You rummaged through your bag and pulled out some twine and popsicle sticks.

Lyith bit his lip like he was trying not to smile. Rena laughed openly. “You wish to do an art project?”

“No. If we are going to do this right, we need to be careful. I want to do experiments. First, we section three groups of flowers far away from each other so as not to contaminate eachotger. We use the twine and sticks to section those area off. Then, we do one group for the quick-grow powder, one group for the fertility spell, and one group of both. We will then keep track of them, and you guys will see which one keeps the most magic. You guys can tell magic quality by taste right?”

Rena nodded back at you, her expression a bit surprised. You continue.

“Ideally, we would have four different glens of these same flowers to compare. I'm not sure if the magic will be affected by rainwater. But I feel like it's a solid idea. Whichever works better for nectar quality, is what I'll use in case of emergency. If the fertility spell works properly, I can then help you guys grow your fields. But we wanna make sure that my magic is compatible with the flowers and your guyses nectar. I don't wanna accidentally poison you guys or something.” You scratch the back of your head awkwardly.

Lyith smiled over at Rena, who was nodding as she seemed to be thinking.

“Tell you what, ill give you two glens. One for your powder, one for the fertility spell. At one end of the both the glens you can do both. Sound good?”

You smiled. “Fantastic.”

From their, the three of you got to work sectioning off the ends of the glade. Rena herself flew off and sectioned the other glade herself, while you tested the soil. After the third time of getting the same reading, you calculated your powder amount. It was very important to get the amounts right. If you got it wrong, they would get one huge flower, and a comatose witch all at once. 

You did your spell, and it seemed to work, a more potent smell sweeping through the clearing. You continued your work, taking your time to channel your power as not to stress yourself out and mess with results. You were flown to the other glen, and did your thing. 

When you were finished, one clearings wildflowers had grown their reach twice as far, and the other flowers had grown to be the size of a human head. But it was the combination spell that really seemed to excite Rena. The flower's hue had changed from mostly orange, to mostly purple, and the scent had shifted to something headier.

“These more closely resemble the flowers of old! And they smell perfectly nutritious!”

Lyith chirped in. “The real test is to see how they will age. We don't know how long the magic will last. If the soil will breed more.”

You smile. “Thats what the experiments for. We wait, and each week you tell me if the magic quality has gone down.” 

Admiring the flowers, Rena grabbed one and flew towards you. She put the flower in your hands, then motioned to you as if it was a teacup. “Drink.”

Experimentally you tipped the flower to your mouth. A hint of nectar trickled in. It was sweet, but unlike your normal honeysuckle, their seemed to be a kick to it. Your gaze went back to Rena. She gave you a knowing smile. “Thats what your magic tastes like. It will make such good honey. Thank you.”

With that she leapt forward and gave you a huge hug. She smelled citrusy too, but in a different way, almost tropical. Her hair tickled your neck and ears, as she purred in contentment. She stayed there for a minute longer, seemingly giving you a warm nuzzle before pulling away. It wasn't until she did so that you were able to register how tired and sore your body was. You were shivering. The cold was getting to you now.

Lyith noticed immediately and drew himself close to you. “Is it too cold? I knew we should have waited a day. You've overdone it.” He then threw his arms around you, and started rubbing your arms, your back. He was using the friction and closeness to bring you warmth. It was innocent, but your cheeks warmed just a little too quickly. 

Rena watched and grabbed onto your free arm. “You'll get manasick at this rate. I've got a shelter nearby. Its no hive, but the heat will do you some good.” It seemed that Rena had decided she liked you, because she kissed your cheek twice before motioning the three of you onward.

Lyiath took you up in his arms again, the pressure of his touch much more intense. 

Its just to maintain heat. You tried to convince yourself. 

You had spent a lot more time spellcasting then you thought, as you noticed the sun was starting to set behind the trees. You tried to get Lyiths attention, perhaps you should be heading home instead, but it was very hard to do as you guys were hurtling through the air at 20mph. 

You passed through a few more fields of flowers then made it to a small structure. It was an off-white, sort of oblong shed. It truly looked like some human sized animal cocoon. There was a ridge, which Rena pulled away using her glowing light magic. 

When you all went inside, you were glad to find the structure warm. Light radiated from the ceiling, as if their was a glowing cloud above. In the middle of the room was a yellow orb that radiated heat. There wasn't much else in the room except for… a beanbag chair? 

Rena saw you staring and gushed, “I saw it in a shop window on one of our grocery trips! You humans make the silliest things sometimes!! Look!!” She maneuvered you over and onto it with relative ease. The cushion was heaven to your aching limbs. That, coupled with the radiating heat from the orb, started to make you relax. Sleepy even.

Lyith and Rena took their seats on the floor next to you, seeming comfortable. The room was full of light that made their black eyes shine. Lyith, looked at you with concern, and started fussing over you, pulling your sleeves over your wrists and inching you closer to the orb. 

“You haven't eaten since lunch! Its already dusk.” he tutted, pulling your hair over onto one shoulder. He always had this habit of touching you whenever he could. It must be a Bee-man trait.

You looked over at Rena, who had decided to pass the time by examining your fingers; Then lacing them with hers. Her antennas were twitching about in an adorable way, meaning she must have been pleased. You let her touch you, happy for the companionship. If a human had touched you as much as Rena and Lyith did, you would be beyond flustered, but for some reason, the two of them made you feel safe. Comfortable. 

“I might have an old granola bar in my bag.” You volunteered groggily. Lyith took the bag from your lap and started going through it carefully. You spent that time marveling over just how cute he was. His fluff, more pronounced around the neck and chest, seemed even more fluffy after all the high speed flying. A part of you just wanted to go over and hug him like a big teddy bear. Affection filled your heart.

“No, I don't see anything.” He frowned, rearranging everything back into your bag.

Rena clasped your hand harder, you looked over and saw her smile at you.

“Oh thats fine, I still have some nectar I collected from earlier. Do you want some?” She batted her eyelashes.

Lyith quirked an eyebrow, before staring “ Rena-”

Without waiting for an answer, Rena moved forward and brought her lips to yours, locking in a tight kiss. Too shocked to move, you felt her tongue on yours, then a sudden rush of sweetness. It kept coming, filling your mouth until you were forced to swallow it down. You sputtered, whole body now hot.

“I-wah?” 

Lyith looked like he was trying to contain his laughter. “Rena doesn't spend much time with humans, please forgive her. But just know that sharing nectar this way is very normal for us.” Despite this, a glint of mischief started to twinkle in his eyes, a smirk on his lips.

“ Oooh um really?” You sputter.

He nodded. “You didn't get a lot to drink though. I took some nectar from your garden before I picked you up. Would you like to try it? The magic will refortify you.”

He bent over until he was eye level with you. His eyes went to your lips, then back up to your gaze. You swallowed quickly, opening your mouth to say… something? But Lyith took this as an invitation, pushing his lips to yours. His mouth tasted sweet even before the nectar came. And this somehow was better. Just like the nectar from the flower earlier, there was a small tartness, a bite.

Lyith held you close to himself, the pressure of his body pleasant. A warmth started to curl in your stomach as he pulled you even closer, tipping you back into Rena, who embraced you from behind as you drank. You somehow managed to swallow as he pushed your lips together even tighter, his tongue teasing yours as he fed you. 

You were not sure how long this went on. But you knew you were full, and you were dizzy when he finally pulled away, his eyes glassy. His gaze was heated as he stared you down. It was as if he might change his mind and eat you up himself. You gasped for breath, eyes fixed on him. The room was filled with purring noises from both of them. You could feel the vibrations through both of their chests. You swallowed thickly.

After what felt like an eternity, Lyith straightened himself up and his expression changed to one of laughter. He giggled then bumped his forehead against yours affectionately. Rena gave a little giggle herself then a hum behind you.

“If you're feeling better now, can we fly you home?” Lyith offered. You nodded dumbly, still shaking off the heavy atmosphere which had now turned light. You mumbled your goodbye to Rena, and explained you'd be back in a week to check on the progress of the flowers. She beamed and gave you another hug. Whatever reservations she had had about you in the beginning seemed to be gone now. You gave her one last wave before letting Lyith scoop you up again for the third time today. 

The ride home went by in a flash. The moon shone light onto your porch as he dropped you off. 

“I'll be back tomorrow for your garden.” He breathed, his face the same happy calm it usually was. His antennas twitched as you nodded at him. He leaned foreward and kissed your cheek.

“Get some rest. You did good today.” He didn't wait for an answer before he flew off into the night. 

You knew he had probably been referring to all the magic you had been working today, but a part of you hoped that maybe he had been referring to something else. You slapped your cheeks. 

“Hes a Bee-man.” You tried to remind yourself. You repeated it a few more times that night, as if it would help with your stupid warming cheeks, and pooling gut.

***

Part Three

Hi everybody! This part was a bit longer than the others but I hope you enjoy! So it turns out that bees do kiss! They share food and information this way through a process called trophallaxis. Hope that doesn't ruin the mood for you. Anywho, thanks for reading!

[empty-vessel-of-a-person]

Delulu Mode: Jealous Zayne

Note: Not a Full Fic. Just a Delulu Story in my Brain. I wish I can write a full Story but I can't. Believe me I try.

To say you were hurt is an understatement. it was date night and you are very static that for once, Zayne was able to get off work early. But nothing prepared you to the colder than usual demeanor he has and an almost dismissive attitude.

You are very confused, when you pick him up from the hospital, he even kissed you in the forehead. Something the he's done for the first time.

His colleagues has seen you two stand so close to each other and the furthest they seen you two is greeting each other by holding hands. So the forehead kiss is something new to you but you are still equally happy.

So what happened in between the fifteen minute ride to the restaurant is still a mystery to you.

You are in the verge of crying when he refuse to talk much as you two eat.

Steeling your emotions, you keep everything in check because whatever is upsetting Zayne, he clearly do not want to share with you at the moment.

You two plan on walking on the nearby park after dinner. This is one of Zayne's way to getting you both a simple work out after eating your hearts out. But tonight, you feel awkward to do it so you ask Zayne take you home instead, which to no surprise, he didn't argue.

The ride was awkward and almost suffocating that you were not able to fight the silent tears that started to fall from your eyes. You did not move to wipe the tears as the moment may cause Zayne to notice so you just look out the window.

When you finally see your apartment, you thank Zayne for the dinner and ride home and quickly exited the car.

This seem to knock Zayne out from trans and he run after you. When he finally catch up and turn you to him, he was so shocked that your face is so red with tears. He immediately picks you up and take you back to his car.

You didn't fight him. Instead you held his shoulders tightly until he is able to secure you in car.

Driving fast but carefully , you notice that you are going to the direction of his house. When you are finally arrived, he excited the car without a word and unfasten your seatbelt an carry you again like earlier. When you try to protest, he just hold you tightly but gently and take you straight to his room.

He set you sitting at the edge of the bed and and him kneeling in front of you and his head on your knees as he whispers I'm sorry.

You didn't say anything for a while but you intertwined your hands with him while your other hand was gently stroking his hair. You then realize that his shoulders was shaking. he's crying.

That's when you coax him to talk and found out that he was jealous of the way you easily laugh with Greyson. he reason that with Greyson you always look like you are having fun. While you are just giving him smile and small giggle. he wants you to laugh heartily with him too but he is knows he is not jolly and funny like Greyson and for that he was extremely jealous.

He was so insecure that he kissed your forehead in front of his colleagues to ensure that they know you are his. And after that he proceeded to ignore you and for that he is so ashamed on how he acted.

You feel his arms encircle your legs he then murmurs. Please don't leave me.

It breaks your heart that he thinks that you will leave him for any other man so you hold his face in both your hands. When he finally look at you, you tell him that his presence alone make you happier that any laughing moments with her friends. Having fun and laugh with them does not comes close to how you feel when he showers you affection and you only and exclusively just long for him.

When you ask him to kiss you he was hesitant stating that he doesn't deserve to kiss you because how he acted. You acted angry and tell him that he is allowed to do whatever he wants with you. He was still hesitant that is why you hold the back of his neck and bring your lips down to his and he accept you dominating him.

When the kiss ended you whisper in his ears that you wanted more he then reply "Well then. My Love, what exactly do you allow me to do?"

[0xstarzx0]

NDA: I need a sexy nerd. (I need Rafe) ENGLISH IS NOT MY NATIVE.

+18

Rafe wasn't particularly strong in spelling or grammar, but math and science were more his forte.

So when the sexy, but shy girl from college asked him to give her private math lessons, he didn't hesitate.

That's how you found yourself on his desk, completely lost on your exercises.

"I don't understand anything, Rafe!" you say, burying your head in your hands. Rafe lights a cigarette and looks at the exercise.

It was so simple for him that he was holding back from laughing in your face. "Actually, you're reversing the numbers and not paying attention to the instructions."

You look at him and try again, this time getting it right. You succeed in planting a kiss on Rafe's cheek.

You desperately search for Rafe's money, he never makes you pay for the private lessons, despite your constant insistence. You look at Rafe, he's intently focused on a book.

"Rafe?" He looks up at you. "Hm?" You walk over to him, and he stands up, towering over you by a good twenty centimeters.

"I forgot your money…" You look down. Rafe places his hand on your shoulder, sending a shiver down your spine.

"It's nothing, y/n, I honestly don't care." You raise your head. "Not me, Rafe!.." Rafe looks at you, his eyes slowly drifting down to your cleavage. You're dangerously close to him, and your breasts are straining to escape the deep V-neck of your low-cut top.

Rafe feels his pants getting tighter, but he says nothing. He looks at you and tries to stay as calm as possible. "It's nothing, y/n, you should go home, it's going to get dark soon." You were about to protest, but he gives you your things and ushers you out.

Once the door is firmly shut and he hears you walking away from his dorm room, Rafe unbuckles his belt. He removes his pants and boxers.

He leans over the bed, spreading his legs apart. He wraps his hand around his thick, hard erection and begins to slowly thrust his hips upwards, a soft moan escaping his lips.

He throws his head back and closes his eyes, his breathing growing heavier as he continues to jerk off. His muscles flex and his abs tighten with each movement.

He imagines being inside you, the way you'd moan his name, how your well-manicured nails would scratch his stomach with each rough thrust. Your bouncy breasts would bounce with each time he'd slam back inside you.

Damn, he really wants you. The passion in his actions and thoughts is palpable.

Lost in his pleasure, he doesn't hear the door to his room opening, nor does he see you kneeling between his legs. You're quiet as a mouse, observing his intimate moment, your heart racing with excitement.

"Rafe?..." You say, placing your hands on his thighs. Rafe's eyes snap open, and he sits up straight. The sudden intrusion snaps him out of his fantasy, and he looks at you, surprise written all over his face. "Y/n what are you—"

You silence him by wrapping your lips around his erection. Rafe moans, his head falling back and his hand tangling in your hair. The passion that was once just a fantasy now becomes a reality, and he can only manage broken words, "Y/n... that's..."

"Relax..." You groan as you lick the length of his shaft. "I've dreamed of this so much..." you whisper to yourself, lost in the moment. Rafe's hand tightens in your hair, and he starts thrusting gently, his other hand grasping the headboard for support.

You look up at him as you take him deeper into your mouth, his tip brushing against the back of your throat. He moans as he feels you take him so deep into your beautiful mouth.

His moans fill the room as you continue to suck him, his member stiffening further with each passing moment.

Your teeth lightly scrape against his skin, heightening the sensations. He grips your hair tighter and helps you bob your head faster and rougher, his hips bucking to meet your mouth. "You feel so good... just like that, Y/n..." he pants, his voice hoarse with desire.

Tears stream down your cheeks as you gag on his thickness. He growls one last time before spilling into your mouth, his hot seed sliding down your throat.

You savor the taste, your eyes fluttering closed as you swallow every last drop

You slowly rise from between his legs, your body trembling with satisfaction. Rafe watches you with a mix of awe and gratitude, his chest heaving as he tries to catch his breath. "Come here..." he whispers, beckoning you to him.

You do as he says and sit on his lap, your lingering shyness causing him to chuckle. "We... can we fuck…?" you ask, biting your lip nervously. Rafe runs a hand through his hair before adjusting his glasses.

"You really have to ask?" he responds with a playful smirk. "Come here, I want to kiss you." He pulls you closer, his hands wrapping around your waist as his lips meet yours in a passionate, demanding kiss. 

His hands begin to roam, caressing your curves and pulling you even closer.

And before you know it, you're spending the night moaning his name ❤︎︎

☔︎︎✈︎

MY COMMAND ARE OPEN!!

[caitlinsgirl]

Locked Eyes

- summary: first person perspective of a sports journalist who is failing miserably at her job.

- warnings: implied d*rty thought, minors dni

- word count; 771

- songs

softly by clairo

i think he knows by taylor swift

- note: i don't know shit about sports, so please feel free to correct any technical details i got wrong. i hope you enjoy!

              

               God is playing a joke on me. God is playing a sick, cruel joke on me. I am going to get fired from my job for this. My amazing, dream, well-paying job with amazing PTO and retirement benefits.

            Just for a short, close glimpse of her… and it might be worth it.

            I have been sitting at this courtside seat for over an hour. The players have started to warm up, but the plastic under my legs feels cold. The pencil in my hand is covered in nail marks from my grip, as if it could provide the mercy that I desperately need right now. A writer with nothing to write. Nothing but, God she's so beautiful, and, Is she making eye contact with me? Fuck, no, that's crazy, wait, did she just do it again?

            Otherworldly is an understatement. Beautiful is an understatement. Hot is closer to the truth. Stunning, breathtaking, striking… I cannot seem to find the words to describe the way Caitlin Clark's magnetism binds me helpless, speechless, and spineless. Each glance from her feels like an attempt to stop my heart from performing its function. Against my will, but with my delight, my eyes follow her tall figure as she runs up and down the court. How long are basketball games, again? Did a sports journalist just forget that minor detail?

            It was one thing to attend her games in person from a further seat in the arena. Now, sitting this close to her, it feels like I could reach out my hand and run my fingers through her sweaty pin-straight hair.

            The noise of the cheering crowd drowns into muffled white noise with every charming move. How hot it is when she gets upset with an opposing team member. The upset look on her face is unapologetic and confident. My heart beats faster at the sight of it, and I cannot help but to wonder what it would be like to be protected by her the way she protects herself, her team. Just a few feet away.

            God, it is almost annoying. Her unwavering resilience, her iron focus, her muscular arms and shoulders… I did not even know it was possible for a woman in this cruel world to be that comfortable in her own skin. Come to think of it, comfortable would be an insulting understatement. She is demanding the room and the thousands of people in it. I want to get up from my seat and run into her strong arms.

            My haze is interrupted by the sudden flurry of extra-loud cheers from the crowd. One of the Indiana Fever's players scored, and I was too preoccupied with player 22 to notice. Caitlin was not the one to advance the scoreboard, but her infectious satisfaction and desire to win lights up the room. She moved her arms upwards, hyping up the crowd’s collective energy in the reveling of victory. Thank you, God, for allowing my eyes adjust the scene to slow motion; her strong shoulders, her long muscular arms, leading up to her pale long fingers… I watch her hands in the air and my lungs give up when I see the way that her middle two fingers stick to each other. Could that be muscle memory?

            Then, she remembers. I see it on her face the millisecond before she turns her head to look at me, again. Look at me, again. Look at me, look at me, no one else me. She remembers I exist, and it matters enough to break her concentration of the game onto me.

            I wonder what she sees when she catches my view. Does she see the way my cheeks have been flushed in amazement this entire game? How stupid I look with my lips slightly parted with desire? How my ankles cross over each other with school-girl hesitation? She holds our eye contact for a few seconds, and they feel like blissful eternity. It was like the crowd, players, and professionals melted into the floor. The roof sinks upwards to reveal a Paris starry night, and she is the angel standing across the street, manifested just for me.

            My girlish desire paints itself over my face and my lips melt into a smile, a smile that says I adore you. My writing hand, pencil still in hand, reaches up to my hair to fidget with the ends. In an instant, our moment is interrupted by her game. She focuses again, but with a lingering and flattered smile. Could it be the adrenaline, could it be all that running? Her cheeks are flushed the same color as her uniform.

[violettwrites]

the fence is white. the lawn is dead. 🏹 daryl dixon

a/n: hi guys !! sorry i haven’t been super active lately but this popped into my head tonight and i thought i’d post it for y’all !! i hope you enjoy 🫶🏻

if you enjoyed, please don’t forget to like, reblog, and/or comment !!

this is my masterlist

and my ask box is currently open !

summary: as the greene farm falls, reader reminisces on her time growing up at the farm. a certain southern male comes along to make sure she gets away safely.

pairing: daryl dixon x greene!daughter (middle child)

warnings: angst !!?

word count: 670

— — —

there was nothing more you hated than the apocalypse. because all it did was take. it took the people you loved the most: your mother, step brother, friends, and now, the place you had grown up in, where you called home.

standing there in the distance as you watched the flames take over the barn, reflecting in your eyes. it could be seen for miles— and to you? it looked like the end of the world. you continued to watch, frozen in place as the place you grew up was overrun by walkers.

that’s all this world did now. it took, and took, and took. and it would continue to do so until everything was gone. until there was nothing left but the undead.

you squeezed your eyes shut for a moment, just wishing that you could go down with your family home— but you knew you couldn’t. because you had to survive. keep the memory alive. because once you were all gone? there would be no one to remember the greene family farm.

pulled from your thoughts by a familiar rumble of a motorbike engine, you turned your head to see a headlight pointed at you; the familiar silhouette getting off his bike and making his way over to you. his pace was rushed, but still steady.

you had grown close with the southern male during his group’s stay at your family’s farm— he had taught you how to use his crossbow, and you had taught him how to ride a horse after he had admitted to you that he was scared of them.

”they’re just too big,” he huffed, arms leaning on the fence of the stables as you stood on the other side, hand brushing over the neck of chestnut, a smile on your face.

“they’re gentle giants,” you retorted, shaking your head as you continued to pat the brown gelding, fingers brushing through his mane.

“c’mon, we gotta go,” daryl called out to you as he neared you, arm immediately wrapping around your shoulders in an attempt to lead you back to his bike.

“it’s gone—“ your voice cracked as you spoke, looking over your shoulders as you let him lead you. you knew better than to put up a fight, especially with a horde that big, but it still split your heart in two. seeing the place you and your sisters grew up just taken away.

you could remember every single little detail about growing up there. the grass between your toes during the summer, how you and beth would take turns on the tire swing your father had put up in the tree, and the many, many arguments between all three of you girls, but you wouldn’t have changed it for the world.

“i know,” daryl spoke softly, his voice low as he moved to stand in front of you, fingers brushing your hair off your face. usually, you would blush. but right now you couldn’t even think straight. “‘m sorry, darlin’. but we really gotta go.”

daryl climbed onto his bike, hands on the handle bars as he looked at you. waiting. you took one more look at the place you called home before climbing onto the back of daryl’s bike, arms wrapping around your torso before he sped off down the dirt road— assuming towards the rest of the group.

you watched the barn in the side mirror of daryl’s bike, your heart crumbling in your chest as you pressed your cheek against his shoulder blade, tears slipping down your cheeks. you could feel him move his hand from the handles of the bike, gently placing it over your hands on his stomach, giving you a gentle squeeze. the gesture was small, but it made you feel less alone in the moment.

with his hand back on the handle, you closed your eyes as you let the wind whip around you, memories flooding your mind as you left your home behind, trying to keep every single memory locked in your mind forever.

[irasamu]

𓍯 LOVE IS THE PROFOUND SENSATION, I AM OF UNYIELDING PASSION ; a dazai osamu fic snippet.

summary. you came. he left. dazai left. the man you were dying to reunite with left without even glancing back at you and you might just go mad.

tw. breakdown (minor), mori and reader having a manipulative/abusive dynamic, reader showing signs of her fucked up mental health.

𓍯 . imagine having such bad luck that you miss the last chance ever to meet dazai by just five fucking minutes.

five minutes ago, he left.

five minutes later, you came.

after years of being away, you finally came and he isn't here because lo and behold-- that bastard left.

he left.

you just missed the last chance to reunite with him.

behind you stands chuuya who looks as betrayed by that man but chuuya doesn't get it. no one will.

no one will. no one will. no one will. no one will --

"hey, come on, don't dwell on that bastar --"

"it's impressive how he was able to escape. man, never thought anyone would be able to escape but it's a given since its him -- he did create most of the security arrangements here-- we need to get rid of it. every person he appointed too. all his ideas and plans --"

"... hey--" chuuya kisses his teeth as you do not listen, staring out of the ceiling length windows from mori's office as you go on and on.

"-- that kid akutagawa? i'll take him in. oh we can't get rid of him. he's too valuable. my room -- i need a new one-- i need to tell mori-sama i need a new room and my hair? i need a new hairstyle. also -- fuck." you curse as your shoulder blade cries out in pain, looking straight to see chuuya's arm pinned against your neck as he keeps you pinned against the wall and your shoulders slump. "right. we need to get rid of you as well."

chuuya's eyebrows rose as he stared right into your dazed eyes, hiding the panick and worry very well as he stares at you so coldly it makes you clench your jaw.

"he left. mori-sama sent me away and -- and because of that -- i-- why did he sent me away?" you look pitiful in chuuya's eyes, almost on the verge of a breakdown and over who? someone like dazai? oh lord...

yet why does he feel more sympathy than disgust or pity for you? why does he remember all those poems written by those lovesick poets?

"he won't die. you are underestimating that bastard." chuuya offers comfort, comfort which is mockery to you. it makes you see red because he does not get it.

"i am! because i didn't get time to go on many missions with him! i didn't know him like you did! i don't even know if he still likes sweets or not!" you scream out, a sob ripples out of your throat next as you shakily grab chuuya's jacket and cling to it as if it's your lifeline. "why did you guys sent me away!? i didn't even get to spend much time with him!" you cry.

because chuuya spent time with him to know this much about him. because everyone else except you got to see him everyday while you lived in memories of him. because you worked your ass off everyday in hopes of one day meeting him again and when that day came, he left.

"listen --" yet chuuya stops speaking, your neck feels a piercing pain spread through it before you close your eyes and fall limp in chuuya's arms, a syringe stuck on your neck which chuuya gently pulls out and looks behind to see elise -- more matured and grown as she sorrowfully stares at your unconscious form -- and mori who has a blank look on his face but chuuya knows better than to assume the boss isn't fazed because from his prodigy leaving and his assumed heir breaking down, mori's original plans crumbled. and even as chuuya stares at mori now, he knows the older man is making new tactics and strategies, adapting to this surprising new situation.

you didn't have time to register the pain in your throat, the throbbing in your head, the burning behind your eyes or the emptiness clawing at your heart as you stare directly at the man. his stare is blank but it makes you uncertain about yourself. his stare is the kind which makes you unconscious and makes you feel as if you don't fit in your skin.

"you must be exhausted from your journey... and then suddenly learning of dazai leaving... i assume it was a lot for you to take." he speaks so kindly and warmly. tears gather in your eyes again.

mori gets up from his place on a stool next to your bed, he approaches you and places a hand against your forehead to check if you have a fever or not.

"but that's disappointing." mori clicks his tongue as he leans down to whisper against your ear, his scarf brushing against your jaw as he does so, "you of all people should not be so easily affected. it's really disappointing. you failed me on the very hour you came back. should i send you away again or am i wasting my time on you? remember unless you have made a name for yourself -- which you haven't yet-- you are replaceable. and it won't take me more then five minutes to find eager candidates who'll be eager to take your place." and he leaves.

your eyes stay glued to his disappearing figure, heart thumping violently in your chest as you ponder over his words and somewhere along the way, the fear of being replaced is so real it's making your body shake as if you are in some kind of delirium. this is one hell of a welcome back.

you snicker. would you have worked just as hard if you knew you were never gonna meet dazai? would you really go shopping and buy all those items which reminded you of him?

you clasp your hand over your mouth before doubling over, cackling. it's all so pitiful that it's making you laugh. he hurt you in a way no one ever can. no. he made you mad. mad in love. a mad woman living in her delusions. and now suddenly reality is slapping you. the seductive amd tempting delusions leave. unless you meet them daily by indulging in alcohol.

maybe you are actually going mad because as you laugh, you imagine the warmth his cold fingers would provide if he were to hug you from behind right now, he would probably lay his cheek on your head, his fingers slowly dragging up your arms and towards your shoulders before he wraps it around your neck and kisses your head.

you might be going mad. actually. laying your head down on the soft pillows, you laugh at yourself. "fuck you. fuck you dazai osamu."

like a wanderer with no definite destination to go to, you feed your emptiness with worldly pleasure. till how long can you go on pretending as if dazai osamu isn't a religion you are the devoted follower of?

[mmaarrzz]

Sweet Freedom (NSFW)

After finally getting out of jail, Vi gets a taste of something sweet.

Tags/Warnings: Vi x Caitlyn, Basically the brothel scene but they fuck.

—

The stench of incense thickened the air of the brothel. To most, the sights of masked figures and dim lights filled them with excitement, but for Vi, it brought about a sense of nostalgia. For Caitlyn, however, this new environment was a shock to her system. A straight-edged enforcer wouldn't be caught dead in a place like this.

Vi put a hand on Caitlyn's back and pushed her into the building, noting the way the lights glittered off her eyes as she took in the sights, a bright blush growing across her cheeks as the sounds of pleasure erupted from behind not-so-closed curtains.

"Vi, how exactly are we supposed to be going about this?" Caitlyn asked, not quite understanding what kind of benefit a place like this would be to their cause.

"Pretend like you work here." Vi said with a shrug.

"I would never!"

Vi slowly spun around, hands still in the pockets of her jacket. She ran her eyes up and down the blue haired woman, making her feel almost naked. "You know what your problem is?" She said, walking around Caitlyn, spending a moment too long staring at her bottom that did not go unnoticed. "You expect everyone to give you what you want. If you really want people to talk to you, you need them to think that you have what they want."

"And what do I have?"

Vi spun around and pushed Caitlyn against the wall, trapping her between her arms. "You're hot, cupcake.”

Vi grabbed Caitlyn’s chin with her hands, moving her face around to get a better look. “You know, we don’t have any sweet things like you in Stillwater, I miss the taste.”

Caitlyn shied away from Vi’s piercing gaze. “I don’t think we have many in Piltover either.”

Vi chuckled at that, “I’m sure they do, Cupcake, you just gotta look a little harder.” Their faces were centimeters apart, warm breath heating the others lips. “You wanna try?” She asked as she ran her thumb across Caitlyn’s soft lips.

The slightest of nod was all she needed before she attacked the girl's lips with her own, savoring how another woman felt for the first time in years. She moved her hand from the wall down to the taller woman's waist, pinning her hips to the wall with her own.

Shockingly, it was Caitlyn who opened her mouth first, her tongue darting out to explore. It was all the permission Vi needed to take things further, shoving a knee between Caitlyn's legs to push upon the heat growing between them. With her strong arms, she pushed the blue haired woman down on her leg, the pressure of her thigh making Caitlyn gasp.

Caitlyn tangled her fingers in Vi's pink hair, finally remembering she had hands to use as well. She moaned quietly as Vi grinded her thigh into her crotch, the shock causing her to pull on Vi's hair, ripping their lips apart.

"Oh, I'm gonna make you regret that, Cupcake," They locked eyes as Vi kissed her way down Caitlyn's neck, stopping to lick up the length of her pulse before biting down. At the same time, she slid her hand down from her waist and up her dress to fondle her ass, feeling the lace of her panties. Vi unlocked her lips from the woman's throat with a small pop, stopping to admire the bright red mark that would soon be her dark purple claim on the woman. "Why don't we get a little more comfortable?" She asked, nodding to the curtained room next to them. She didn't wait for an answer, instead peeled herself off of Caitlyn and sauntering over, peeling off her jacket to reveal her muscular arms exposed through ripped-off sleeves. Caitlyn just stood there, taking a moment to process everything. She had never been with a woman before, and she had never been this turned on in her life. There was a small part of her, in the back of her mind, trying to remind her of her duty, of her purpose for being here. But when Vi whistled impatiently to get her attention, and she drew her eyes to the purple cushioned bed surrounded by candle light she squashed that small part and walked forward, letting Vi drop the curtains behind them.

Caitlyn sat on the edge of the bed, ankles crossed, hands gripping the hem of her dress as she tried to inconspicuously rub her thighs together. She couldn't take her eyes off the woman in front of her. Her strong muscular frame, pink hair, the small tattoo underneath her eye, it all drove her insane. She noted the piercings that decorated her ears, and wondered if she had anymore she was going to find out about.

It didn't take long for her question to be answered, as Vi peeled off her shirt to reveal herself. Caitlyn traced the soft line of pink hair peeking out from her waist band up to the metal in her naval, admiring the intricate tattoos that adorned her sides leading up to her breasts. One nipple had a small bar in it, the other surrounded by thick lines of ink.

Vi laughed as she was ogled, and pushed Caitlyn down on the bed as she straddled her waist. She grabbed one of Caitlyn's hands and brought it to her pierced breast, pushing her chest forward ever so slightly as she filled her palm. She leaded down to kiss her once more, gentler this time, as the woman gave her breast a light squeeze, testing the waters. Their tongues danced with each other, Vi letting out small sighs as Caitlyn now fondled both of her breasts.

Caitlyn lightly rolled the pierced nipple between her fingers, causing Vi to let out a breathy moan. She pulled a little harder, enjoying how the pink haired woman ground herself down on her as she did so. Caitlyn sat up, bring her head down to give small kisses on the woman's chest. She left a light kiss on the tattooed breast, then one on the other. Vi was panting with anticipation before Caitlyn gave small licks to the nipple, circling it with her tongue before bringing it into her mouth. The taste of metal was strange, but not unwelcome as she sucked, massaging the other with her hand.

Vi moaned loudly as she brought her hands up to return the favor, pulling the top of Caitlyn's dress down to expose her supple breasts. They fit perfectly into Vi's large hands, and the warmth of them traveled down between her legs and filled her with a hunger she hadn't felt in a long time.

She couldn't take the teasing any longer, and she pushed Caitlyn back down onto the bed. She sat up on her knees and spread Caitlyn's legs in order to situate herself between them. She rode her hand up the blue haired woman's thigh, stopping at the edge of her dress to look up into her bright blues eyes. Caitlyn gave a gentle nod and lifted her hips to allow her to push the dress up, exposing the black lace panties she wore beneath. They were already soaked through, the candle light flickering on the slickness now coating her inner thighs.

"Aw, did you wear these just for me?" Vi quipped, snapping the elastic on her hip into her skin.

Caitlyn sucked a quick breath between her teeth, "Remind me to show you my collection sometime."

"Oh, I'll make sure you won't forget. Now, let's see if you taste as sweet as you look."

Vi lightly traced her thumb up and down the middle of her underwear, the slickness leaving almost no friction of the fabric. She pressed down slightly at the nub on the top, rolling her thumb in a gentle circular motion as Caitlyn began to squirm beneath her.

"Tell me how much you want it," Vi demanded, "Tell me how much you want me."

"Please, Vi. I need you. I want your touch and your mouth. It's all I've thought about since I met you. I want to feel your strong hands inside of me."

"I think I can make that happen, Cupcake," she replied as she pressed a gentle kiss to her clothed center, taking the time to rake the tip of her tongue all the way up, stopping to add a little more pressure once she reached the top. She didn't have the patience to be a tease. She pulled the panties to the side to expose her dripping pussy, wasting no time to get a taste of the sweetness she oh-so craved.

She ran long stipes of her tongue up and down Caitlyn's center, relishing in the gasps and sighs let out whenever her tongue flicked her clit before moving down to her entrance once again. She quickly picked up the pace, lapping at the wetness and feeling her clit somehow get even bigger against her tongue.

She took the pearl into the mouth and sucked, enjoying the way Caitlyn's back arched just so to push herself even further into the other woman's mouth. She tortured the bud, rubbing her tongue against her clit as she sucked.

Vi traced Caitlyn's entrance with her finger, spreading her slickness on her fingers. She didn't push in, instead opting to trace up and down between her folds once more.

"P-Please..." Caitlyn moaned, and it was all the begging Vi needed to push one of her thick fingers into the other woman, feeling her tighten around her as she pulled out slightly, curling her finger as she went.

She set a gentle, slow pace to start as she continued to lap at Caitlyn's clit, who was all but screaming in pleasure at this point. After she relaxed around her, Vi added another, bending them up to rub gentle circles inside her.

Caitlyn threw her head back in wanton moans, brining one hand to grip at Vi's hair and the other to massage her own breasts.

Despite the grip Caitlyn had on her hair, she pulled her mouth away as she pumped into her pussy, watching as she lost herself to pleasure. The image in front of her was almost enough to set her off herself, but she was completely focused on the pleasure of the other. There was a prize to be won, and she was going to stop at nothing to have it.

Vi brought her other hand down to put pressure right above Caitlyn's crotch, reaching her thumb down to rub steady and firm circles around her clit. Caitlyn was almost fucking herself on Vi's hand at this point, the pink-haired woman now taking care to speed up her pace, pushing her fingers all the way into the other before slowly pulling them out with a curl, staring into her piercing blue eyes all the while.

"Vi... I-I'm getting closer..." Caitlyn gasped as the hand that was once tangle in pink hair was now tangled in the sheets, trying to ground herself to reality as she lost her mind to pleasure.

Vi sped up the pace of her fingers once more, making sure to maintain steady pressure on the top of her walls as they squeezed her tighter and tighter. She heard the beautiful sounds of Caitlyn's wetness around her growing, and it wasn't long before they exploded out of her as she came around Vi's fingers. The pink-haired woman dipping her head down to lick up every drop of Caitlyn's cum as she fucked her through her orgasm.

Vi fucked her until she had nothing left to give, and was simply a quivering, whining mess beneath her. She gently removed her hands from inside her, taking care to lick the rest of her cum off before moving up her body, peppering small kisses' against her fucked-out face.

"Vi... I-" She was cut off with a gentle kiss. "That was amazing..."

Vi chuckled, "Thanks Cupcake, I'm glad to know I still got it after all this time." With one more kiss she peeled herself up from atop her, moving to clean herself up before dressing once more. "Wait here while I go have a quick chat."

As much as Vi wanted to stay, to hold Caitlyn and deal with the throbbing between her own legs, she had come here for a reason. She pulled open the curtains and walked down the hall, she still had a job to do.

[writememysticfalls]

Dive In | Stefan Salvatore

Summary: You're about to have sex with your boyfriend Stefan for the first time, but he can't get his ex-girlfriend out of his mind.

Pairing: Stefan Salvatore x reader

Genre: Suggestive, Shirtless!Stefan, angst

Word Count: 1k

Stefan followed you up the stairs to your bedroom.

You were going to have sex for the first time tonight. Stefan would be lying if he said he hadn't fantasised about it.

“So… your aunt’s at a conference. Your brother is at a friend's house,” Stefan said. “What's the catch?”

“No catch,” you said, shutting the door and grinning at him. “Just us.”

You sat on the bed facing your mirror, and kicked off your shoes. You pulled your vest top over your head.

Stefan lay back on the bed, resting on his elbows, admiring the way the light caught the little spots of brown in your hair.

“As soon as my clothes are off, I'm diving under the blanket, okay? God, this part’s always so awkward,” you said.

But Stefan wasn't listening. A shiver ran through him. Cold sweat pooled at the base of his spine. He had spotted a brown mole, right in the centre of your back. Katherine had a mole on her back, too.

Suddenly, it was 1864 again.

He heard the sputter of the gas lamp in the corner. Katherine swept her curls away from her back, revealing the mole he loved - and angry red bite marks on her neck.

Stefan leapt forward, touching the marks.

“I see you've noticed my battle scars. Your brother has quite a nasty mouth,” Katherine teased.

Stefan felt only horror as he remembered that vampires healed within minutes. Katherine must have come straight from his brother’s room.

“Stefan,” you said, straddling him, and playing with his hair. “You okay?”

He nodded quickly. “Fine. Sorry. You're beautiful.”

You smiled, but your eyes were serious. “You do… want to do this, right?”

Stefan nodded, plastering on a smile. How could he explain the truth - that he was disturbed by how much you reminded him of Katherine?

He had felt this way a few times before. He would notice something - the way your voice got higher when you were annoyed, or your smirk when you told an innuendo - and he would feel a slight shiver of deja vu. But it had never been this bad.

You bit your lip, looking down, your body leaning over his.

Stefan noticed that your dark eyes still had that shyness of adolescence, which Katherine’s had never had. You were nothing like Katherine. Slowly and gratefully, he kissed you.

You kissed him back, then kissed a trail down his jaw and to his neck. This time, when he shivered from your wet lips, it was a good feeling.

And then, like a red wave, the memories flooded back.

Katherine, her lips on his neck. Suddenly, sharp teeth as she bit down into his flesh, sucking his blood. At first, the sting was bearable, but then it became an ache, spreading through his neck and to his chest. He imagined bleeding to his death, right there in his bed. He felt his eyelids flutter, panic making him drowsy.

“No,” he mumbled. “It hurts…. It hurts…”

You frowned at him. “Stefan! Sorry, did I hurt you?”

“No, no…” he said.

Stefan was getting angry at himself. Why should his life be ruined by a crappy relationship 150 years ago? Immortals couldn't get PTSD, for god’s sake. Katherine was in his head, in his bed, just when he was trying to connect to you. It wasn't fair.

He would just have to push through the fear and get over it. The first step was to make the situation as different to 1864 as possible.

Stefan lifted you with one hand and manoeuvred you so his body was on top of yours, a position Katherine never allowed.

Already, the panic of a moment ago was fading like a distant nightmare. Screwing his eyes shut, he kissed you again, with a passion that would silence all of your worries.

In a few minutes, your naked bodies were rocking to an even rhythm. Stefan felt a sense of victory bubbling up in him like lava. This was almost over. He could master his trauma from Katherine. He could be your man, in every way you needed him to be.

Then, he heard himself moan, from deep in his throat. Strangely, that was what reminded him of 1864.

“I love it when you moan for me, Stefan” Katherine said. His back was pressed against his bedroom wall, and Katherine’s mouth was all over him. Katherine’s lips brushed his ear as she whispered, “I can tell that Damon is listening just through that wall.” Stefan tried to stifle the sounds coming from his mouth, panic filling him, but Katherine only laughed. “Don't be afraid, darling. He loves the shows we put on for him.”

Stefan opened his eyes, forcing himself to look at you and see your wide, youthful eyes, so different from Katherine’s. However, the flashback remained.

Gasping for breath, Stefan rolled away from you, curling up into a ball. He had failed. Katherine had got in his head, and he hadn't been able to stop her.

For a long time, you just lay there by him, slowly stroking his back.

Finally, you said, “It was Katherine, wasn't it?”

Stefan turned, stunned. “You knew?”

You shrugged. “I guessed.”

“Do you wish I was more like her?” you said quietly, and Stefan could hear that you had avoided asking this question for a long time.

Stefan turned to you and took in your beautiful eyes and thick, wet lashes. “No. I promise you, if there is one thing that can save me from the memory of Katherine, it's you, Y/n. You're kind, you're selfless, you would die for your family - you're everything she wasn’t.” Stefan smiled. “We just might have to take things slow for a while.”

You kissed Stefan’s hand. “You can tell me things, you know. I might be young, but I've lived through stuff too.”

Stefan smiled. “I know.”

​—

MAIN MASTERLIST

Let us know what you thought in the comments or on anon! 💋

[moodymisty]

So I actually have a 'Uriel Ventris has a kid' story written, If this goes well I'll post more.

---------------------------------------------------

Taking in the scene before him, there was only one thought in Roboute Guilliman's mind; This is all Belisarius Cawl's fault.

He was over 10 millennia old and he had seen some of the worst things the Galaxy had to offer, from competition from other species, betrayal by his own brothers, and the eldritch Tumors called Gods. He didn't believe that anything could surprise him anymore.

And yet, here he was sitting dumbstruck before a baseline woman, three of his sons, and a tiny human who seemed to be the only one enjoying all of this.

He cleared his throat, "So, ma'am, can you care to explain how you ended up having your charge?" He pointed at the little boy, only for said child to pipe up, "My name is Apollo!"

The woman's cheeks coloured despite her dark complexion, "I apologize on his behalf my lord, he does not know what he is saying." The boy was about to speak up, only for his mother to put her hand over his mouth, muffling his voice.

"Yes, now about young Apollo here." Guilliman continued, a part of him wanted to laugh at the small child's antics, but he had a job to do.

Isadore composed herself, she was in front of a primarch, she cannot disappoint him, especially for Apollo's sake.

"Lord Belisarius Cawl had recruited me to assist on a project, and as my family considered it a great honor, I went with him. I assumed that I would be a servant in his lab, cleaning up after his experiments. However, it seemed that he had a different idea in mind."

Her blush deepened, the implications making everyone uncomfortable.

Roboute wanted very badly to smack Cawl for tricking her in such a way. "I see, do you know who his father is?"

Isadore shifted in her seat, "I was not privy to much of the details of the experiment, but from what I could gather, his father was an astartes from the Ultramarines Chapter."

She really didn't know what else to say, before being fooled by Cawl, she was a rather simple seamstress from an Agriworld. She wasn't considered particularly beautiful either, with plain brown hair, eyes, and skin. A bit taller than average, which was her only stand out feature, but that was cancelled out by her rather ugly freckles marrying her face and body.

Never in her life did she think that she would have a child fathered by an Astartes, for one, she thought that it would be impossible for Space Marines to father children at all.

"I see," the primarch's eye seemed to develop a twitch, he didn't realise that when he gave Cawl the orders to research Primarch virility, he should've been more specific as to where to stop. "We will have the young lad her genetically tested to find his father, then we will regroup and decide how to move forward. Uriel, please escort our guest here to one of the serf quarters so that she may take some rest."

She watched as a tall marine with short, cropped, straight black hair with startling blue eyes nodded and motioned for her to follow him.

She bowed before the primarch and left the room, her child looking up at her curiously.

As they made their way down to the serf quarters, Uriel couldn't help but sneak glances at her, she was beautiful in a down to earth way. Gorgeous chocolate colored hair, clear skin, and deep brown eyes. Her height giving her a matronly aura and her full lips seemed soft.

He tried to push the thoughts away. Their father had recently revealed to them that he was going to give them a choice to have offspring to bolster the Imperium's numbers of neophytes.

He didn't know how to feel about that, but as part of this decision, marines were made to go through intense hypno brainwashing to return to them their more base urges.

Uriel hated how they made him feel like an out of control animal. He didn't like not having full control of his thoughts. Besides, the last thing the poor woman would want is to be harassed by astartes when she had already gone through so much.

He secretly admitted to himself that any astartes who fathered her child was a lucky man.

---------------------------------------------------

This is basically how the story would go, as Isadore and Uriel grow closer to each other and some shocking reveals as to whose soul Apollo has in him.

Also, yes, Uriel has a thing for Milfs. Isadore has low self esteem as she wasn't considered attractive in her culture, and Cawl only saw her as an acceptable carrier for astartes children.

So, yeah, tell me how you guys feel about this.

added your second post to this one so it's all together <3

the 'i don't know the father' mystery! it's a classic XD and poor guilliman having yet another weird thing to deal with on top of all the other weird things in 42m XD

[rekino2114]

Your turn to die girls x male reader incorrect quotes

A/n:There is so little yttd girls x reader content it should be illegal

Sara chidouin

[Sara is in a Kendo match against another girl and she's losing]

Y/n:this is bad.....oh wait! SARA IMAGINE THAT GIRL JUST FLIRTED WITH ME!

Sara:!!

[She immediately starts destroying her opponent]

Y/n:.......t-that actually worked?

Reko yabusame

[You're at one of reko's band concerts]

Y/n:WOOOOOHHHHH!!!!!!! THE GOTH GIRL WITH THE BONGOS IS MY GIRLFRIEND

Reko:AND THE HOT GUY IN THE FRONT ROW IS MY BOYFRIEND!

Alice:........is this the time to flirt with y/n?

Reko:HECK YEAH IT IS!

Nao egokoro

Nao:boop! Boop! Boop! *giggle*

Y/n:nao......you've been booping my nose for five minutes straight

Nao:sorry I can't help it your nose is just so.....boopable

Y/n:I don't think that's a word

Nao:Well, I just invented it now, then, it perfectly describes your nose

Y/n:....You're so adorable

Anzu kinashi

Anzu:did it hurt?

Y/n:Uh? What?

Anzu:when you feel from the sky...

Y/n:.....

Anzu:Shoot! I meant from heaven....y-you know cause you're an angel and all that......Joe told me this worked on ryoko

Y/n:anzu, we've been dating for 2 months you don't need to use pick up lines on me

Anzu:......o-oh yeah i-uh I....forgot about that....eheh (ᵕ—ᴗ—)

Mai tsurugi

Mai:oh sweetheart~ I made you something

Y/n:Thanks. You really didn't have to. You bake so much stuff already

Mai:nonsense, I love baking and especially when it comes to you speaking of look at what I made.

[She pulls out a tray of heart-shaped cookies with I love you written in frosting]

Y/n:Awww, that's so sweet.....pun not intended

Mai:Well, not as sweet as you, darling.

Sue miley

R/g/n:call me handsome~

Y/n:.....o-ok

Miley:dear, did that girl...make you uncomfortable?

Y/n:Yeah, sorry,even when I told her I had a girlfriend, she kept flirting with me

Miley:Please don't apologize it's not your fault, that girl on the other hand...I'll go talk to her

Y/n:please just don't kill her

Miley:No promises~

Y/n:*sighs*.....I would be lying if I didn't find that kind of attractive

Tia safalin

Safalin:there now you're patched up

Y/n:Thanks a lot, saf, sorry to worry you

Safalin:i-it's alright just be more careful next time

Y/n:Yeah for sure........

Safalin:i-is something wrong b-babe? Are you still hurt?

Y/n:n-no it's just could I....ask you something?

Safalin:o-of course, you can ask me a-anything honey

Y/n:....could you....kiss my injuries? Maybe they'll heal faster that way....eheh

Safalin:*blushing*.....a-alright, i-i can d-do that

[She starts kissing your wounds]

Y/n:Thanks tia, that feels great

Safalin:d-don't mention it, i-i actually enjoyed that

Y/n:Oh, if you did, then how about we kiss for real?

Safalin:*blushing* o-ok

[You start making out passionately]

Maple

Ranger:that bastard you're dating sure is protective of you isn't he?

Maple:he is, and I love that about him. After I realized how terrible sou was to me, I can't imagine anyone I'd rather date. Oh, what a coincidence he's talking to him right now

(I know she was programmed to love him, but like she really didn't deserve that in this au she's not)

Y/n:Listen here, you seaweed haired piece of shit if you dare come close to that sweet angel girl again, I will rip out that majority vote body of yours until not even one human part is left

Midori:........

[rylem33]

Rushing into It

Lily stood tall in front of the mirror, her lips curling into a satisfied smile. She admired the reflection staring back at her—a body she had designed down to the last detail. Her platinum blonde hair, perfect tan, and fit, toned physique were all thanks to her invention. “It worked,” she whispered to herself. “I can’t believe how well it worked.” She ran her hands over her flat stomach and curvier hips, marveling at how easily she had transformed.

Behind her, Maddie was equally thrilled. She turned from side to side, admiring her own reflection. Her sleek brown hair framed her face perfectly, and the fitted white blazer hugged her curves in ways her old body never could. “This is incredible,” Maddie said, her eyes lighting up as she adjusted the blazer over her chest. “Lily, you really outdid yourself this time.”

Lily gave a confident smile, adjusting her skirt. “I told you it’d work. I mean, this is some next-level stuff. Temporary physical transformation, perfect for us to blend in at the sorority rush tonight. We’ll look like we belong—just long enough to see what it’s like.”

She turned to Maddie, her eyes gleaming with pride. “You have no idea how long this took me to build. I’ve been working on it for months. Late nights, constant revisions, tweaking every little detail. It’s the most advanced thing I’ve ever made. It altered our physical appearance completely.”

“Just for one night,” Maddie added, grinning. “We’ll fit right in, get the experience, and by the end of the night, poof—we’re back to normal.”

Lily nodded, smoothing her new blonde hair and glancing at the clock. “Exactly. One night of not being laughed at and scorned for being smart.  One night of being pretty instead of plain.”

The two girls exchanged excited looks, adrenaline rushing through them. “We’re going to kill it tonight,” Maddie said, eyes gleaming with anticipation. “I mean, look at us.”

Lily laughed. “Oh, for sure. No one will even know we’re us.”

But as she turned to the mirror one last time, something nagged at the back of her mind. Her smile wavered slightly. “You feel okay, right?” she asked, casually at first.

Maddie glanced over at her, still smiling. “Yeah, I feel amazing. Why?”

“I don’t know,” Lily said slowly, pressing her fingers to her temples. “I just… maybe it’s nothing, but I feel a little… off.” She tried to shake the feeling. “Like… I don’t know. It’s probably nothing.”

Maddie shrugged, not giving it much thought. “You’re just overthinking it. We’re fine.”

Lily nodded, but something still felt wrong. “Yeah, maybe. It’s just… I’ve been so focused on how we look, but what if—”

Maddie smirked, adjusting her top and examining her new curves with satisfaction. “Yeah, well, we definitely look the part for rush now.” She glanced at the clock, watching the seconds tick closer to the event. “And we’ll blend right in, no problem.”

Lily twirled a lock of her hair around her finger, then suddenly frowned. “Wait, what’s rush again?” she asked, blinking in confusion.

Maddie froze mid-pose, her eyes narrowing. “Lily, don’t be stupid. We’re rushing the sorority tonight. You know, the whole reason we used the device?”

“Ohhh, yeah! Rush!” Lily nodded enthusiastically, her confusion disappearing as quickly as it had come. “Right! So… what do we do there again?”

Maddie’s lips thinned into a straight line. “Are you serious right now?” Her voice was sharp, but Lily just blinked innocently.

Lily let out a small laugh, bouncing on her toes. “It’s fine! I mean, how hard can it be? We just go in, talk to some girls, have fun, right?” Her smile was so genuine, it was almost painful. “Do you think they’ll have, like, snacks? Oh! Maybe cupcakes!”

A cold chill settled in Maddie’s stomach. She looked at the device on the desk. “Lily, the transformation… it’s not just physical, is it?”

Lily blinked again, her smile faltering for a second before returning. “Huh? Oh, no, no, it’s totally fine! I’m just, like, maybe a little tired or something?” She twirled another strand of her hair around her finger, her eyes glassy.

Maddie grabbed her by the shoulders. “Lily, focus. You made the device. You know how it works. How do we change back?”

Lily’s smile wavered as her brows knitted in confusion. “Oh, um… the device… right.” She paused, her blue eyes clouding over as she tried to focus. “It’s… temporary? Yeah, like… um…

Maddie rolled her eyes, muttering under her breath. “I should’ve known you’d end up like this.”

Lily blinked. “Huh? What’d you say?”

“Nothing,” Maddie snapped, suddenly feeling a sharp pang of irritation. She was concerned, this could be bad.  Really bad.

But then Lily opened her mouth again. “Do you think I should, like, curl my hair more or just leave it straight? Oh! Maybe I should’ve gone with a pink top! Pink is so cute, don’t you think? I mean, blonde and pink—”

“Lily!” Maddie barked, glaring at her. “Shut up for five minutes, okay?”

Lily’s mouth snapped shut, her eyes widening. She looked like a scolded puppy, her lip trembling slightly before a nervous giggle bubbled up. “Oh, okay! I can be quiet! Totally quiet!” she said quickly. Then, not a second later: “So, what are we gonna say when we meet the girls?”

Maddie groaned, pressing her fingers to her temples. “I can’t believe this is happening… you’re a complete airhead.”

Lily cocked her head, looking puzzled. “Airhead? What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means you’re being stupid, Lily,” Maddie snapped, unable to stop the venom from dripping into her voice. “You can’t even remember why we’re here, and you keep asking me the dumbest questions!”

Lily’s eyes welled up, and her lower lip jutted out in a pout. “I’m not stupid, Maddie! I’m just… I’m just excited, okay?” Her voice trembled slightly. “Besides, I, like, totally remembered what rush is. I just—”

“Shut. Up.” Maddie’s patience had worn thin. “If you ask me one more thing, I swear, I’ll—”

Lily blinked, tilting her head in that confused way that Maddie was beginning to despise. “Why are you being so mean?”

“Because you’re annoying me,” Maddie snapped, her voice louder now, more forceful. “And I don’t have time to babysit a ditzy blonde right now, okay?”

Lily’s face fell, but instead of standing up for herself, she just looked away, playing with a strand of her hair, her mind drifting to something else entirely. “I’m not a ditz,” she muttered quietly, but it was as if she didn’t even believe it.

Maddie sighed, rubbing her temples. “We need to focus, Lily. We need to get through tonight without embarrassing ourselves. Can you do that? Or are you going to ask me if cupcakes will be served again?”

Lily gave a small, nervous giggle. “Cupcakes would be nice, though.”

Maddie rolled her eyes, muttering to herself. “This is a nightmare.”

Maddie stood there, trying to maintain control. Lily’s mindless questions were grating on her.  Her patience was shot.  Her concern, replaced by something else.  

She glanced over at Lily, who was now humming to herself, completely oblivious. “God, I can’t believe I’m stuck with you,” Maddie muttered under her breath. “How did I ever think you were the smart one?”

Lily turned, her face bright and cheerful. “What’s that, Maddie?”

“Nothing,” Maddie snapped, her irritation building. “Just… forget it. You probably wouldn’t understand anyway.”

Lily blinked a few times, then smiled. “Okay!” She went back to adjusting her top, clearly unfazed.

Maddie stared at her, her jaw clenched. She could feel her frustration bubbling over, and with every second, she found herself wanting to lash out. Why was Lily so dumb? Why did she have to be stuck with someone so… so beneath her?

Maddie’s eye twitched. She was done. “I am going to be the best damn sorority girl they’ve ever seen. And you—just keep your mouth shut and look pretty.”

Lily’s face brightened. “Yay! I can totally do that!”

“Of course you can,” Maddie muttered under her breath, already regretting the idea of not testing the device’s mental effects first. But there was no going back. Not when they both looked so… perfect.

[pasaatimonarkin]

No crying in the Burlesque club I part 5

Han Jisung x reader feat. OT8 Stray kids

Mafia!au

Warnings: cursing, guns, mentions of blood, sexual language, SMUT at the end [please skip the end if you are a minor or don't feel comfortable reading smut]

Words: 7,3k [aka long]

part 4

note: I haven't read this through yet so if there are spelling mistakes, I apologize.

Your eyes opened slowly. You hadn’t slept that well in a while and it felt like you never wanted to wake up. But your eyes quickly widened as you saw the scene in front of you. You were snuggled against Han’s bare chest, his arm circled around your waist. You dared to look up and there Han was, already staring down at you with a sleepy smile that made your heart flutter. "Good morning” He murmured, his voice gruff with the remnants of sleep.

"Morning," you replied, almost whispering. He gently stroked your hair with his good hand. "How'd you sleep?"

You sat up, cheeks flushing pink with the realization of what had happened the night before. You had been dreaming of this moment in secret. Hoping he would feel the same as you. "I slept... fine," you said, your voice a little shaky. "How's your shoulder?"

Han nodded, grimacing slightly as he moved his arm. "It'll be okay," he said, his eyes never leaving yours. "Thanks to you."

You smiled but couldn't help but wonder if the kiss had been a mistake, if Han regretted it. If the kiss was just from the heat of the moment. You searched his expression, looking for any sign of discomfort or regret, but found none. Instead, his gaze was intense, as if he was trying to read your soul. The silence between you grew heavier, charged with unspoken words and unanswered questions.

It was like Han saw your uncertainty and took the lead. "I meant the kiss," he said, his voice low and sincere. "I've wanted to do that for a long time."

Your eyes widened in surprise. "You have?" you whispered.

Han smirked, the corner of his mouth tilting upwards in a way that made your heart race. "Yeah," he said, his voice taking on a playful tone. "You didn't know?" He teased.

You felt a warm blush spread across her cheeks. You were never sure if his constant flirting was because of his personality or because he had set his eyes on you from the start. "I... I didn't," you stammered.

Han sat up and leaned in, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Well, now you do," he whispered, his breath tickling your ear. He brushed a loose strand of hair away from your face, his fingers lingering on your cheek. "And I'd be more than happy to repeat it, if you'd like."

Your pulse quickened, and you found yourself leaning into his touch, closing your eyes as you felt his lips brush against yours. It was a gentle kiss, his hand slid down to the small of your back, pulling you closer. Without thinking you wrapped your arms around his neck, deepening the kiss.

As you broke apart, Han smirked. "So, is this the part where you say you've always wanted to kiss me too?" His sarcasm was light, the tension in the room dissolving into a playful banter that felt both new and incredibly natural.

You thought about telling about your feelings but decided to take part in his play. "Maybe," you said, taking a small pause "But you're not getting off that easy. You owe me an apology for taking so long."

Han chuckled, the sound rumbling through his chest. "Oh, really?" He raised an eyebrow. "What's the going rate for a kiss these days?"

You smacked his chest lightly, trying to keep a straight face. "I'll think of something," you said, your voice laden with amusement.

Han's laughter was genuine, the kind that reached his eyes and made them crinkle at the corners. The sound of his laughter made you smile, you had never heard him laugh like that. Han leaned back on the pillows, his arm supporting his head as he watched you. "I'm all ears," he said, his tone playful.

Before you could come up with a suitable reply, a voice called Han from downstairs. It was Chan. The playfulness drained from the room as quickly as if someone had flipped a switch.

Your eyes grew wide with panic. "What do we do?" you whispered, your grip tightening on the sheets.

Han's expression turned serious, the playfulness vanishing like a ghost at daybreak. "I better go," he murmured, sitting up and swinging his legs over the side of the bed. "Let’s talk more later"

You nodded, your heart racing. If Chan found out about what happened he would be angry. He had made it clear that you shouldn’t be a part of his world. And shared feelings could be turned against you.

"Han!" The voice called out again, more insistent this time.

Your eyes darted to the door, and you fell back on the bed "Chan can't know," you whispered urgently.

Han nodded, his gaze never leaving your "I know," he said, his voice low and steady. He knew the rules of this world better than you. And he also respected your brother for wanting to keep those.

Han stepped to your bathroom, and you heard him turn on the shower. When stepped back into the room, he had a towel on his shoulder and hair wet, making it look like he just came out of the shower. He checked if his black jeans were fine as he had slept with them on.

With a final nod, Han strode to the door, leaving your room. "Be right there! I was just in the shower” You heard him yell before closing the door behind him. His voice was casual, like nothing else had happened.

You smiled to yourself, thinking about the last two kisses you shared with Han. You couldn’t believe everything that had happened during the weeks you had been in Strays house. It also dawned on you whether you could actually have a relationship with Han, considering the life he had. Could you still keep your own lifestyle with the Burlesque club? And what happens if Chan finds out?

Your mind was once again storming with questions. With a sigh you raised up from the bed and went to the bathroom. Maybe a hot shower would slow down your brain for a moment.

The rest of the day passed in a blur of tension and unspoken glances. You two moved through the house like two magnets, drawn to each other. You were too scared of Chan’s reaction that you decided to keep your distance.

The way you gazed each other made you have butterflies in your stomach every time. The feelings you had had about him felt to be increasing hour by hour. You couldn’t help but wander if Han shared the exact feelings too.

As night fell, you knew Han would be leaving the house soon, it was Tuesday. He, Changbin and Seungmin would be racing tonight and the others would be watching. You received a text from Han' "Meet me in my room”. The screen of your phone glowed like a tiny sun, illuminating your face in the darkened room. You quickly hopped off you bed and tiptoed down the stairs. When you reached Han's door, you took a deep breath and pushed it open. He was sitting on the edge of the bed, going through his phone. His outfit was all black like always: Black jeans with a t-shirt tucked into them and a leather jacket.

"I've got a race tonight," Han said without looking up. "I'm leaving soon."

"Can I come?" you asked, hope lacing your words.

Han's gaze finally met yours, and he smiled shortly before answering "You can't," he said firmly. "It's not safe."

You felt a pang of disappointment, but knew he was right. The underground street racing was fraught with danger, and you had no place there. "But I would like to see you race," you protested, voice a mix of desperation and longing.

Han sighed heavily. "I know," he said, his voice tight. "But you can't. I don't want to risk you getting hurt. I can’t keep my eye on you there”.

“I want to see what it’s like. What you guys do when you disappear on Tuesdays and Fridays” you tried to explain. "Besides you're hurt," you pointed at his shoulder. "I want to make sure you’re going to be alright”. You crossed your arms on your chest, trying to make yourself more believable.

Han stood up and with two steps he was standing right before you. “Lee Know is there to make sure my shoulder can handle it.” He took your hands in his and looked in your eyes. "Chan will be there, too. And if he sees you, he is going to be furious. He might not know about our feelings, but he knows we have been spending most of the days together. It’s going to seem like I brought you in the middle of danger in purpose”.

Your eyes stared back into his. It was true, he had been the one keeping eye on you for these past weeks which meant he sticked to your side like glue. And you also knew that Chan didn’t want you to be part of their world at all. Any day now he could be telling you to go back to your own apartment – surprisingly he hadn’t yet.

“Alright fine” you muttered, “But please explain what makes the races so dangerous?” you asked your voice going high, because you knew what the danger there was. Like usually you just couldn’t give up that easily.

Han smirked slightly “Oh I don’t know. You could say that the other mafia men with their guns and knives but I could be wrong” he sneered, voice full of sarcasm. Han gave your hands a gentle squeeze before letting go. "Jeongin is going to stay here. He'll keep you company," he said, his tone softer now.

You nodded, though you couldn't help but feel a twinge of annoyance at being treated like you always needed babysitting. "Yeah," you said, trying to keep the edge out of your voice. "I know he stays to babysit me."

Han chuckled. "Is that what you think?" He reached out and gently tucked a piece of hair behind your ear. "Maybe Chan just doesn't want you to be lonely," he said, his tone teasing.

"Yeah, right," you said, rolling your eyes, but couldn't help the smile that tugged at your lips because of his touch. The warmth of his fingers lingered on your skin, sending a shiver down your spine.

"Well, good luck then," you said with a sigh.

Han leaned in, his face serious for a brief moment. “Thank you. And don’t do anything stupid. Alright?”

Before you could respond, he closed the space between you and kissed you again, this time with a gentle passion that took your breath away. When he pulled away, his eyes searched yours.

Your heart was racing. Yeah, you were totally going to do something stupid. "Okay," you whispered, a new idea forming in your mind. "I'll be waiting for you."

Han nodded; his expression unreadable. "I'll be back before you know it," he said, turning to grab his keys from the dresser.

You watched him, your mind racing. You wanted to go, you wanted to see what happens there and most importantly, you wanted to be with Han. "I'll be waiting," you repeated, trying to hide your intentions in your voice.

Han's eyebrow quirked at your words, but he didn't question them and moved to the door. "See you when I get back," he said, his hand on the doorknob.

You watched him go, your mind already planning a way to go with him. Once you knew that Han wasn’t inside the house anymore, you left his room to find Jeongin. You checked the living room and there he was, laying on the couch. You sighed before entering, trying to make your voice steady "Hey, can you do me a favor?"

Jeongin looked up from his phone, his eyes half-lidded. "What's up?"

You took a deep breath, heart racing with excitement and fear. "Could you keep a secret for me?" you asked.

Jeongin looked at you quizzically. "What kind of secret?"

"I want to go to the race," you said. "I want to see what it’s like."

Jeongin's gaze sharpened, and he sat up straighter. "You know it's not safe for you," he said, his voice firm.

You nodded and sat next to him. "I know, but I have to be there," you said, voice filled with a fierce determination that even you were surprised "Please, Jeongin”

Jeongin studied you for a moment, his expression unreadable. He knew the risks of the streets, the danger that lurked in the shadows of the underground racing world. But he also knew what had happened between you and Han. See you were not the problem of gossip, but Han was. With a sigh, he nodded. "Okay," he said finally. "But only if you promise to stay safe."

Your eyes lit up with gratitude. "I promise," you said fervently. "Thank you, Jeongin."

He gave you a stern look. "If you get hurt, or if anything happens, it's on me," he warned. "And if Chan finds out, I’m dead meat and so is Han."

You nodded solemnly. "I know," you said, eyes shining with understanding. "I know how Chan would react”

Jeongin sighed, his gaze flickering with concern. "Okay," he said finally. "But you're going to have to be smart about it. Stay in the shadows, keep your head down."

You nodded eagerly, mind racing with the excitement of the plan. "I will," you promised. "Thank you, Jeongin."

Without wasting another second, you hurried up to the garage but stopped at the door to see if Han’s car was still in there. It was. Only his and Jeongin’s car remained, and you quickly made your way to Han’s car. Where should you hide? In the backseat? No, he will see me in there.

You heard steps and without thinking you popped the trunk open and climbed inside, closing it right after with a soft thud. Your heart was racing with a mix of excitement and fear. You could have just made up a huge mistake. The space was tight, filled with the scent of gasoline and leather. You curled into a ball, trying to make yourself as small as possible. The darkness was complete, and you could feel the car shifting slightly as Han climbed into the driver's seat.

The engine roared to life, and the car lurched forward, sending your heart racing even more. You had never done anything so reckless, so dangerous before. Yet here you were, hiding in the trunk of a car that was about to race through the streets of Los Angeles, driven by the man you had kissed the first time just last night.

The drive was a blur of turns and acceleration, the vibrations of the car resonating through your bones. You could feel the adrenaline pumping through your veins. The cold metal of the trunk pressed against your back. You had acted so fast that you couldn’t dress up properly as you were only wearing a white top and leggings- oh and no shoes.

When the car finally came to a stop, you waited with bated breath, listening for any sign of danger. The engine cut off, and the silence was deafening. You reached for the trunk release, hand shaking with anticipation. But it wouldn't budge. Panic began to set in as you realized you might be trapped. What if Han doesn’t look in the trunk? You couldn’t just start banging it or scream, someone else could hear.

You took a deep breath and tried to calm yourself, reminding herself that Jeongin knew where you were, you could text him if you were there too long. But the thought didn't do much to ease the anxiety gripping your chest.

The minutes stretched into an eternity, the silence in the trunk broken only by the distant sound of car engines revving and the occasional shout of excitement. You could feel the vibrations of the car, the throb of the bass from the stereos of nearby vehicles, and the occasional jostle as people moved around the car. You heart hammered in your chest, the excitement turning into fear.

You felt Han – or at least you hoped it was him – to sit on the driver’s seat and start the car. As the car started moving again, you realized with a jolt that Han wasn't just driving to the race; he was going to race with you in the trunk. Your breath hitched, and you braced yourself against the cold metal, knuckles turning white. The car picked up speed and the engine growled

The race had begun.

You felt the car come alive beneath you, the engine roaring like a beast unleashed from its cage. The sudden jolt of acceleration pushed your back against the trunk, your breath leaving you in a rush. Your heart hammered in your chest. You had never been this scared since the first might you were brought to Strays’ house when you were on Changbin’s motorcycle.

The car took a sharp turn, and you slammed against the side of the trunk. You bit your lip to keep a surprised scream leave your lips. Your eyes squeezed shut as the world outside tilted and swayed. The smell of gasoline grew stronger, mixing with the scent of rain-soaked streets and the faint hint of fear that clung to the air.

The car jolted as it hit a pothole, and you heard the squeal of tires as Han corrected the course. The engine roared in protest, and you felt the car shift gears. The reality of your situation began to set in. You were in the trunk of a car, hurtling through the streets of Los Angeles, with no way out. If you crashed, you would be trapped and probably dead.

And then, suddenly, it was over. The car came to a stop, the engine's roar fading to a purr. The world outside was quiet once more and you heard Han stepping out of the car. You waited, your breath shallow, listening for any sign of Han's return. You could hear the distant murmur of the crowd, the crackling of a radio, and the occasional clang of tools. The smell of burnt rubber and gasoline lingered in the air.

The moments dragged on, and then you heard it: Han's voice, low and steady, speaking to someone outside the car. "The first round went well." you heard the other voice say.

You heart plummeted. There were more rounds? The thought of being trapped in here, unable to move or breathe, while the car roared through the streets again was almost too much to bear. Panic set in, your breaths coming in quick, shallow gasps.

But then the lid of the trunk creaked open, a wash of cool, damp air filled the space. Han's face appeared; his eyes widened at sight of you in the trunk. "Y/n?" he barked, his eyes wide with shock. "What the hell are you doing in there?"

You voice was small and shaky. "I wanted to see," you said, voice barely audible over the clamor of the race. "I wanted to know what happens in these kinds of races."

Han's expression was a mix of shock and concern. "You could've gotten hurt," he said. His hand paused midair as if unsure of what to do next.

"I know," You whispered, her voice shaking slightly. "But I'm okay"

Han stared at you for a long moment, his eyes searching yours. Then, with a sigh, he offered his hand and helped you out of the cramped space.

"I don't know whether to be angry or impressed," he said finally, his voice a low growl that you could feel in her chest. His hand remained wrapped around yours, his grip firm but gentle.

You looked up at him. "I'm sorry," you began, but Han cut you off with a shake of his head.

"Don't be," he said, his voice gruff. "But you can't do that again." His eyes looking at yours, looking for any signs of injury or distress. "You could’ve been hurt. Badly"

You nodded, feeling the nausea from the race finally dissipate in the fresh air. "I'm okay," you assured him, voice still trembling. "I won't do it again. Being in the trunk was...terrifying."

Han's expression softened, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "You're one brave little thing, aren't you?" he teased, shaking his head in disbelief. Despite the danger, his voice was gentle.

"Or just a little crazy," you retorted, cheeks flushing at his words.

Han chuckled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Crazy enough to hide in a trunk during a race," he said, his voice a mix of amusement and concern. He squeezed your hand gently. "Come on, let's get you inside before you catch a cold."

You stepped into the garage, the bright lights assaulting your eyes after the darkness of the trunk. The space was filled with the sounds of mechanics working on cars, the smell of oil and gasoline thick in the air. Han led you to a quieter corner, behind a big tower of tires, his hand still wrapped around yours, protective and warm. "You can wait here," he said, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Stay out of sight, okay? Don’t let anyone, especially Chan see you"

You nodded and he took steps backwards to leave the corner but suddenly stopped. He took off his leather jacket and handed it to you. “Put this on, you’re shivering” he whispered. You took the jacket and with a nod, Han walked away. You hadn’t even realized you were shivering, mostly from the adrenaline than cold but appreciated Han’s thought and put his jacket on. It was warm and smelled just like him.

There was a small hole in the corner of the garage. Through it, you could see the tail end of the races, the cars zooming by in a blur of lights and color.  Your eyes searched the track, trying to find Han among the other racers. Your heart leaped in your chest when you finally spotted his car. You watched as he took turn after turn with skill, the tires screeching in protest against the wet asphalt.

The races ended with a flurry of activity, the air thick with the scent of victory and defeat. The engines wound down, the shouts of the crowd echoing through the garage. The other drivers began to file back. And then, finally, Han's car pulled into the garage, the headlights blinding you momentarily before they flickered off. You watched as he climbed out, his eyes scanning the area before landing on you.

"So, what did you think?" he asked, his voice gruff as he walked to you. There was a hint of a smile playing on his lips.

"I had no idea it was like this. I thought it would be messier”

Han chuckled, his eyes sparkling with the excitement of the race. “Yeah, it can be”

Before you could say more, the sound of booted footsteps echoed through the garage, and a familiar voice called out, "Han!" You recognized Chan’s voice immediately. You heart skipped a beat, and you stepped back further into the shadows.

"Go sit in the car," Han murmured urgently, his eyes darting towards the open garage door. "Lock the doors. I'll be out soon."

You nodded and didn't have to be told twice. You slipped away from the shadows of the garage and move to the car. You slid into the passenger seat. The scent of Han lingered in the air. With trembling hands, you locked the doors, the click echoing in the quiet of the garage. You watched as Han's silhouette grew smaller as he moved towards the other drivers, his shoulders squared, and his head held high. He was in his element like a king in the land of speed and danger.

You settled into the seat and took a deep breath. You tried to get comfortable, adjusting your position to alleviate the ache in your legs.  The garage outside grew quieter as the racers dispersed, their engines fading into the distance. The hum of distant traffic became the only sound, a lullaby to the city that never truly slept. The adrenaline from the race began to wear off, leaving you feeling drained and vulnerable. Your eyes grew heavy, and you felt like you could just fall asleep.

But just as you were about to drift off, the sound of the locks opening jolted you awake. You sat up with a gasp, heart hammering in her chest as the driver's side door creaked open.

"It's just me," Han said gently as he slid to the driver’s seat and closed the door behind him. You sighed in relief.

“So, now you saw what we are doing for two days of the week. Was it as interesting as you thought?” Han asked with a smirk as he started the car.

You rolled your eyes, “I don’t know what I expected”

“Gun fights, crashes, blood, hot chicks? Nah, we race for real” Han said half-mockingly and half serious, eyes fixating on the road ahead.

You felt kind of embarrassed for doing all that just to see that it was only a job for them. You looked through the window as Han was driving through the dark streets. Han placed his hand over yours and your head shot back at him. “I have to admit it was nice to know that you were watching me there” He smiled, drawing circles with his thumb on the back of your hand, “and I also have to admit that you look pretty sexy with my jacket on” he winked. You smiled back at him before laying back on the seat and closing your eyes. The warmth of the car made you sleepy and you decided not to fight it. As you were drifting to sleep, you felt Han’s hand on yours the whole time.

-

"Ready for the grand finale?" Coco's sultry voice echoed through the dimly lit dressing room, a question directed at the mirror as much as it was to you, Cherry and Lucky. Her eyes, sparkled with excitement as she applied a final coat of crimson lipstick.

You sat quietly in the corner and stared at Coco. You had to watch her flirt and give herself to Han even after you made it clear to her that Han was not available. Han turned down all Coco’s requests and said that he was not interested. For some reason Coco just didn’t give up, like she was determined to get Han to herself.

Cherry and Lucky were looking at Coco with the same feeling. You told them about you and Han and god you didn’t hear the end of ‘I told you so’s. They were as surprised as you that Coco was so bold and didn’t care if Han had someone or not.

The music grew louder, a seductive rhythm that seemed to pulse through the very walls of the club. A hush fell over the crowd, meaning the next performance was about to start. Your and Lucky’s shows were done, Coco’s and Cherry’s remaining. Coco turned to you with a wink. "Showtime, darlings."

You felt your heart clench in your chest as Coco sashayed out of the room, the sound of her heels fading as she went. It irritated even more as you knew how she would be acting on stage: trying to seduce Han as always. You hated being jealous and didn’t want to feel that way. But it was all so knew with Han still. You weren’t sure if you two were together together and if Coco could play her way to Han’s liking.

“You should go sit with Han, make his interest set on you. That will make Coco go nuts on the stage” Lucky winked at you.

“I don’t want it to seem like I’m using him to get back on her” you murmured.

“And you’re not. If you really want to be with the guy, show it. And make him show you that he doesn’t give seven shades of shit about Coco” Cherry said sternly but still smiled at you.

You thought about it and with a deep breath, you stood up and smoothed out your short, black dress. “Alright” you nodded, channeling the confidence you had seen in Coco's eyes, and made your way through the hallway. The air was hot and thick with the scent of hairspray and sweat. Emerging into the dim light of the side stage, you searched the sea of faces for Han. His gaze was on the stage where Coco was already swinging her hips to the music.

Ignoring the flutter of nerves in your stomach, you made your way through the packed audience. You reached had and without a word, you slipped into the empty chair beside him, your hand brushing against his. Han startled slightly, looking down at your intertwined fingers before meeting your eyes.

The music grew more intense, the spotlight moving to Coco as she continued her grand finale. You felt the heat of the lights on your skin as you watched Han watch Coco’s performance. His face was blank, not showing any reaction whatsoever but his eyes never left Coco

You tried to keep your expression neutral, but the tension was palpable. Coco's movements were a tease, each gesture calculated to provoke a reaction. The anger bubbled up inside of you, a potent cocktail of jealousy and frustration. You had never felt possessive before, but the sight of Han’s attention on Coco stirred something primal. Your eyes narrowed, the corners of your mouth turning down in a scowl as you observed the way Coco's hips swayed and her smile grew brighter with every seductive move. It was clear she was enjoying the effect she had on the audience.

Han was observant and sensed the shift in your demeanor. His eyes darted from the stage to your tightly drawn face, noticing the tension in your shoulders and the way your grip on his hand had tightened. He leaned in, his voice a low murmur against your ear. "You okay?" he asked, genuine concern lacing his words.

You took a deep breath and turned to look at him. “It’s just..I-“ you trailed off, unable to describe the feeling you had, you were irritated, frustrated, jealous..

"You're pissed," Han said, his voice gentle as he squeezed their hand.

You nodded, “yeah” you huffed. “It just seems like she is finding her way to carve into you” you admitted.

Han chuckled, the sound low and warm. "You're adorable when you're jealous," he teased, his thumb tracing lazy circles on the back of your hand. His eyes held a mischievous glint, a knowing smile playing on his lips.

You rolled your eyes, trying to keep the annoyance from your voice. "I'm not jealous," you protested weakly, but the heat in your cheeks betrayed you.

Han's grin only widened. "Sure, you're not," he said, his tone teasing as he stood up and tugged on your hand, motioning you to get up and follow him.

As you walked away, Coco's eyes followed you two, a flicker of annoyance crossing her face. You looked at her and saw her annoyance that Han was leaving in the middle of her performance. You couldn't help but sneer at Coco.

Han pulled you to the big bathroom and leaned against the sink, his arms folded across his chest. "So, you are jealous?" he said, raising an eyebrow.

You avoided his gaze, fidgeting with the hem of your dress. “It’s not that” you mumbled.

Han leaned closer; his breath warm against your face. "Then what is it?" he whispered, his eyes dancing with amusement.

You looked up at him, the anger in your eyes slowly giving way to something softer. "It's just... she's got you all worked up, and... " You paused, trying to find the right words. "I’m annoyed by that”

Han's smile grew into a full-blown grin. "So, you're more than just a little jealous," he whispered, his voice dropping to a playful growl.

You swatted at him, trying to keep the irritation from your voice. "I'm not jealous,"

"Really? Then why don't you tell me what you're feeling?" His eyes searched yours, the playfulness in his tone belying the seriousness of his question.

You felt the weight of his gaze and knew you couldn't keep it in any longer. “I already told you” you said quietly.

Han cupped your face with his warm, calloused hands, his thumbs brushing over your cheekbones gently.  "You know I don't care about Coco, right?" Han's voice was steady, his gaze unwavering.

Your eyes searched his, looking for any hint of dishonesty. "But it seemed like you like watching her" you accused, voice barely above a whisper, knowing you sounded stupid and jealous.

“I only enjoy your shows, Y/n," he murmured, his voice a gentle rumble that sent shivers down your spine. Before you could respond, Han's lips found yours in a kiss that was anything but gentle. It was a declaration, a promise, a silent reassurance that Coco's performance meant nothing to him compared to the connection he shared with you. His hands cradled your face, his fingers threading through your hair as he deepened the kiss.

Your eyes fluttered shut, your body responding instinctively to Han's touch. You melted into the kiss, feeling the anger and tension drain away as if it had never been there.  Han's kiss grew more insistent, his hands moving from your face to wrap around your waist, pulling you even closer. His tongue danced with yours and you wrapped your arms wound around his neck, fingers tangling in his hair.

When you finally broke apart, you both were breathless. "You're mine," Han murmured, his voice gruff with want. "Always." Your breath hitched, the possessiveness in his words sending a thrill through you. You leaned into him, feeling his chest against your own and the steady beat of his heart. "Then show me," you whispered, like you weren’t sure if you wanted him to hear you, but he did.

Han's eyes darkened, and without another word, he took your hand and led you back through the crowded club.

 He opened the door to a small, private dressing room next to the one where you usually spent time. This was the one Coco always used, needing to have her own room. Han pulled you inside. The room was a whirlwind of feathers and fabric, the scent of Coco's perfume lingering faintly in the air. Youfelt a pang of irritation, but Han's presence washed it away. He locked the door behind you.

Turning to face you, Han's eyes were filled with a fierce intensity that made your heart race. He stepped closer, his hand cupping your cheek as his thumb traced the line of your jaw. "Tell me if you want me to stop” he whispered.

You felt the passion in his touch. The anger and jealousy inside them had transformed into something desperate. You nodded.

With a gentle tug, Han turned you to face the mirror. His hands slid down your neck, tracing the collarbone before coming to rest on the zipper of your dress. Slowly, deliberately, he began to pull it down, his eyes never leaving yours in the mirror. Your breath hitched as the fabric fell away, exposing your bare skin to the cool air.

The music from the main stage grew louder and the sound of applause and cheers for Coco, but you couldn’t concentrate on anything else than Han’s eyes. You watched in the mirror as he stepped closer, his chest brushing against your bare back. His hands continued their descent, his fingers grazing the softness of your skin as he pushed the dress down further.

The fabric pooled at your waist, revealing the black lace of your lingerie. He reached to unclasp the bra, his movements sure and practiced. The material fell away. He cupped your gently, his thumbs brushing over the hardened nipples, eliciting a soft moan from you. You could feel the heat of his arousal pressing against your back, the evidence of his desire as undeniable as the passion in his eyes.

There were butterflies in your stomach the whole time. It was all so new, the touching and the desire you felt. You turned around to face him. Your hands found his belt. You wanted him, needed him, more than you had ever wanted anything. The sound of the zipper lowering was like a gunshot in the quiet room, the tension between them palpable. Han's hand covered yours, stilling your movements. He leaned in, his breath hot against your neck as he whispered, "Let me." You nodded as he unbuckled the belt and let his jeans fall on the floor.

Han's hands moved with purpose, the fabric of your dress sliding down your body until it was at yourr feet. You stepped out of it, legs trembling slightly. He took a step back, his eyes roving over you, taking in the sight of your nakedness. You felt exposed, vulnerable and wanted to cover yourself. But Han was quick and reached out to your hands, “Don’t, you look beautiful” he assured. Your cheeks flushed with warmth at his words, and you let your hands fall down to your sides.

Without another word, he unbuttoned his shirt, revealing the taut muscles of his chest. Han's hand found the curve of your waist, pulling you closer and placing his lips on yours. His kiss sent a thrill through every nerve ending of yours. You moaned into his mouth; the sound muffled by his eager lips.

As you kissed, Han's hand trailed down to the juncture of your thighs, his fingers finding the dampness that had been building. He teased you through the lace of your panties, the fabric already soaked with desire. Your legs trembled, and you had to lean against the makeup table to stay upright. The anticipation was unbearable, a delicious torment that made you ache for more.

With a low growl, Han hoisted you onto the table, your legs wrapping around his waist. The coolness of the countertop sent a jolt of pleasure through you. His hand found its way under the lace, his thumb circling your clit with a gentle but insistent pressure. You moaned, your head falling back as sensation overwhelmed you.

Han's other hand snaked up to cup your breast, his thumb flicking the sensitive peak as he continued to kiss you deeply. Your hips rocked against him, seeking more, needing more. He chuckled, against your skin as he bit gently at your neck. "So eager," he murmured, his voice thick with desire.

He slid your panties aside, his finger slipping inside, stroking them with a slow, purposeful rhythm that had your eyes rolling back in your head. “Han” you moaned his name, the sound a desperate plea that he was all too happy to answer. His movements grew more urgent.

Your kisses grew sloppy with desire. Your nails dug into his back, urging him closer, deeper. You could feel the tension coiling in your stomach, the delicious pressure building with every stroke. You had never felt this good.

Your moans grew louder, more desperate, your body begging for release. You didn’t care if anyone heard you. With a final, desperate cry, you shattered, your climax crashing over you like a wave. Han's name was a litany on your lips as you rode the waves of pleasure, your body trembling uncontrollably. He held you through it, his fingers never stopping their sweet torment until your breathing evened out and your eyes focused on his once more.

Satisfaction and love shone in Han's gaze as he kissed you gently, his hand still buried between their legs, feeling the aftershocks of your orgasm. "That's just the appetizer," he murmured. “Unless you want me to stop”

You shook your head frantically and Han smirked. He stepped back, allowing you to catch your breath, and pulled you down from the table and stood on your shaky legs. The air was thick with anticipation as Han stood, his arousal pressing against his boxers. Your breath came in shallow gasps as you watched him reveal himself.

He stepped out of his own clothing, leaving you both bare in the soft glow of the room. Your eyes roamed over Han's body, admiring the way the light played over his muscles.

You reached out, fingertips brushing against his erection, and he hissed in a breath. The contact was like a spark, igniting the flames of passion once again. Han's hand shot out, grasping your wrist, and he leaned in, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin of their neck. "Not yet," he whispered, his voice a dark rumble.

Guiding you to the velvet couch in the corner, Han pushed you down gently, his eyes never leaving yours. He laid down between your legs, his erection pressing on your thigh.

Han leaned down, capturing your mouth in a fiery kiss that left you toes curling. His hands roamed over your body, leaving a trail of fire. He took his time, savoring every inch of your skin as if it were

the sweetest dessert. His thumb found your clit again, his touch feather-light, teasing you back to the brink of madness.

Your hips bucked, desperate for more, and Han chuckled, the sound sending vibrations through your body. "Patience," he murmured, his eyes dark with lust.

Anticipation was exquisite. You reached down, your hand shaking slightly as you wrapped it around his cock, feeling the pulse of his desire against your palm.

Han groaned, his eyes falling closed for a brief moment before snapping open again. The fire in his gaze was intense. You stroked him slowly, savoring the feeling of his skin against yours. His hips rolled into your touch, his breathing growing harsher with every stroke.

With a growl, Han took control, pushing your hand away and positioning himself at your entrance. He paused, locking his eyes with yours. You nodded, the silent consent all he needed.

He slid into you with a slow, deliberate movement that had your eyes rolling back in your head. The stretch was heavenly, filling you completely, erasing any doubt or jealousy that had been there before. You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him deeper, needing to feel every inch of him. Han's eyes never left yours as he began to move, his hips rolling in a steady rhythm.

Your hands roamed over his chest, nails scraping lightly over his skin as you moaned his name.

The sound of your lovemaking filled the room. Han's movements grew more urgent, his strokes deeper. You could feel the beginnings of another climax building, your body tightening around him.

Your breath grew ragged, your body moving in time with Han's, your hips rising to meet his every thrust. The feeling was indescribable, a whirlwind of pleasure. You felt your orgasm building, a tight coil of sensation in your core that grew tighter with every stroke.

Han's hands found yours, fingers lacing together. You could feel your walls tightening around him, the pressure building until it was almost unbearable. You bit your lip, trying to hold back the scream that threatened to escape as Han's thumb found your clit once more, applying just the right amount of pressure. With a final, powerful thrust, your orgasm hit you ike a tidal wave, crashing over you and leaving you gasping for air. Han groaned, his own climax following closely behind, his body shuddering with the force of it. You clung to each other, lost in the moment, as the waves of pleasure ebbed and flowed between you.

As you came down from your high, Han collapsed onto you, his weight a comforting warmth. You laid there, your breath mingling, hearts beating in sync. The room was quiet, only the club’s music could be heard behind the door.

Your mind was racing with the realization of what just happened. You stroked Han's hair, feeling the dampness of his sweat, the softness of his skin.

"Are you still jealous?" Han's voice was a gentle rumble, his question a soft caress against your ear.

You shook your head, smiling softly. "never heard of her," you murmured.

[sobashahzadi]

Her special day

[cerealbishh]

"You're pretty new at this whole relationship thing, huh?"

"... Yeah."