#I think I do but I’ll have to come back with fresh eyes in the morning

[maikissed]

you're why I'm staying

jude bellingham x reader part two of the previous story: the day I saw your eyes, I stayed LINK

warnings: A LOT of smut, it exhausted me lol

note: I think there will be a part 3 because I want to make some drama...

There was a drunk guy that appeared out of nowhere while you tried to push your way through the crowd on your way out. For a second you though it was Noah, because the posture of your space invader matched his very well, and to add to that, he grabbed your forearm to bring your attention to him. It was not Noah.

“Hi” the man smiled rakishly, but there was nothing charming about that, it was off “Leaving so soon?” he gazed down to the coat you were holding in your other hand “I was hoping for a dance with you, please don’t tell me I’m late”

You begun to feel uncomfortable, but kept your face straight and rather friendly to keep this situation casual.

“Unfortunately I am leaving, so if you’ll excuse me” you graced him a light smile, wondering why the hell he kept on holding onto your arm.

“Come on, one simple dance” he pressed, completely blocking your way.

Now it got tense.

“Get your hand off” you shot, visibly annoyed with his disrespectful attitude.

“There’s no point in being so difficult” his answer agitated you, you took a big breath in, ready to start a mayhem.

“Is everything alright?” a familiar accent reached your ears and you sighed in relief once realizing you might have been saved by Jude in this peculiar situation “Do you know him?” he directed his question to you, before quickly gazing down at the man’s hand still placed on your arm.

“No, I don’t” you spat, snatching your hand from his tight grip. Finally.

“Then why the fuck do think you can put your dirty hands on a woman like that?” Jude’s voice collected and steady while he turned to him, the look on his face very much serious. This looked interesting.

The guy snorted, a weird expression contorted his face while he looked at Jude. Something between hurt pride and a dumb realization. Maybe because he did recognize the face in front of him, or maybe it was the bitter taste of being interrupted and put down.

“Get the fuck outta here” the words harsh and final and you watched as the guy turn away without any last look your way.

You were grateful.

“Thank you” you uttered, feeling desperate for some fresh air.

He followed you out, as it turned out, and you wondered if he was trying to catch up with you, which is why he appeared in such a crucial moment just before, or was he simply leaving to call it a night as well. Without Rose.

“I’ll get you a cab” he proposed and you halted, ready to oppose, walk away as quickly as possible to hide yourself from all the strange confusion you felt “Forgive me if I’ve done something that offended you” and you were silenced when you took in his words.

There was uncommonly many taxicabs and ubers driving around, unlike in others parts of the city. One of the drivers pulled in a second after he waved his hand to call him in. Jude opened the door and awaited for your move.

“It’s alright, I’ll take the tube” why were you trying so hard to stand up to him since he was kind enough to make sure you’ll get home in a quicker and safer way?

“Don’t like the idea” he shook his head, still waiting patiently, not trying to persuade you or impose you a choice, rather standing there with an impression on his face that told you that he knew you would at last enter the cab “Please?”

And you folded, not wanting to bicker with him in front of this club. What surprised you next was the fact that he circled the car and got in as well. So he was being a true gentleman now, making sure for you to get back home without any other critical encounters with strange men trying to lure you, or maybe you just got involved into some kind of game with him, that he has planned very much precisely. You did not dare to ask about others and about Rose. Out of fear and abashment, or maybe it was a worry that you would ruin something that was clearly reserved for the both of you. Perhaps you wanted something and perhaps he wanted it too. Were you a bad person? Were you both? Or maybe it was nothing but pure, and maybe he was in fact being a gentleman.

He looked your way once he got comfortable and you let out a laugh.

“Is it your mission tonight to be my knight in shining armour?” you asked before the driver interrupted you to ask for the destination.

Jude smiled at your question, turning to look outside the window for a moment.

“Is it bothering you?” he murmured “Just say a word and I’ll leave”

That was the last thing you wanted, although you feared the consequences of every other minute spent in his presence. That’s why you ran off the club, that’s why you did not want to take the cab. You were not sure of his intentions, you couldn’t even define your own. This tiny cab, you, him and the taxi driver that appeared to be an obstacle for you somehow. What was so significant that made you so drawn to him? You started to hate the universe to put you in such position.

You said nothing, turning the other way with a little smile on your face, remembering the feeling of his hands roaming the curves of your body, his chest pressed against your back, breathing on your ear and neck.

The road was not long, after a few minutes the driver took a turn to the street where you lived. And of course Jude was the first to step out, walking to your door to open it for you. You almost laughed again when he extended his hand to help you get out. He was an extraordinary specimen. You took his hand, stood up, looked once again closely into his heavenly eyes and uttered out a question that startled you in place.

“Do you want to come in?”

Oh, for fuck sake. The most obvious and open invitation to have sex. What on earth happened to no casual hook-ups? No sex with men you barely known? All it took was to meet a handsome, charming and charismatic boy with the prettiest, darkest eyes that had the capacity to tie you in place and suck out all of your common sense just like that. You were a traitor, he was not yours to have. But you wanted him, so, so bad. To the point of losing sanity. And it was a petrifying feeling.

“I don’t want to interrupt your night any further” he simply stated.

You begun to conclude that the question was very much improper and it was the moment when he cuts you short with rejection. But you spotted a familiar daring smirk on his face and you blushed furiously. Fucker.

You realized he was still holding your hand.

“Oh, but please do” a glint in his eyes at your declaration, barely noticeable, but you saw it.

It was midnight, your steps audible while you strode through the corridors of the apartment building. You started to search for your keys. Nervousness kicking in, because you were not alone and you had no fucking idea how do one play out this situation. What do you do with a boy once you invite him into your house in the middle of the night? You offer him a tea? Drop your dress to the floor as soon as you cross the threshold? And to add to that, you haven’t had sex for almost a year now. You felt skittish as a deer, not like a confident and seductive woman he most likely surrounded himself with.

“Do you want something to drink?” was the first thing that left your mouth after you entered inside.

So the tea option it is. You stood in place for a minute, waiting for his answer or any reaction, but the look on his face while he scanned your whole body, up and down, scared you off, and you quickly stormed off in the direction of the kitchen. Coward. Why were you wasting his time?

He followed you, you could hear. Seemed you did not care anymore for his answer, you just put the kettle on. Trying to keep busy. When you turned around quickly, with two cups in your hands, you unexpectedly collided with his chest, you did not hear him sneak this close. Gasping, you almost dropped the porcelain. He was even taller now after you took off your shoes.

“Have you ever done this before?” he murmured lowly and it took you by surprise how his voice changed and dropped few octaves lower as he spoke now.

“Done what?” you asked timidly.

He reached with his hands to carefully took the cups from your own, placing them on the counter next to you. He did not want the tea, you guessed.

“Invited a man you only met couple of hours ago to your home” his gaze soft but purposeful when he looked down at you.

“No” you answered honestly, wondering how he found it.

He smiled at you then, something in form of delight flashing through his expression. Oh, he liked that answer. Weren’t you a sweet affair? He’s got you where he wanted.

“Then why’d you do it?”

Should you be honest?

“I don’t know” you frowned lightly. What a great fucking answer “Why’d you come?” you asked, still standing close, revelling in his scent that surrounded you, there was something else except the cologne he was wearing “Shouldn’t you be somewhere else now?” you risked it with a shaky breath.

“Were do you think I should be?” he was challenging you.

A moment of silence.

“With Rose” something clutched your insides “She’s more to your taste”

He smirked at you then.

“What’s my taste, y/n?”

It was your time to act amused, as you snickered and looked to your side to hide the bewilderment you were feeling. He was not having it, taking your jaw in his fingers to make you look back at him.

“Is that a serious question?”

“Yes, very much so. Because I’m under the impression that you’ve made some presumptions about me”

You tried to shy from the intensity of his eyes. You looked at his lips, bad decision.

“So?”

You grew annoyed, he was poking you. Pushing you to prove your words.

“Gorgeous face, stunning, light hair, model, long legs, sweet and obedient” you voiced in one breath.

He was drinking in your words, acting captivated.

“Do you think you lack something?” he stepped closer, one of his hands rested on the counter next to you, the one he used to hold your jaw, now travelled lower to your neck, he was gentle, a simple touch. You became aware of the contact of the material of his pants against your inner thigh.

His question amused you.

“Definitely not obedient” you answered softly.

He breathed out a chuckle.

“Definitely not” he nodded with amusement that never left his face “Well, she wasn’t very smart about it, was she?” his voice quieter now, almost whispering “Bringing a girl with her, with a lovely, kind smile, big, sparkling and mysterious eyes, delicate, not greedy touch. Smart, intelligent and elegant, wearing a pretty little black dress that got me staring at her heavenly legs for the whole night. Acting, like she was not staring back at all” he carefully articulated each word, bringing you into a breathless state “And the way she moves while she dances? Sinful”

His thumb now stroking your delicately parted lips, his eyes following the act.

“Are you saying that I seduced you?” you managed to utter. Your voice shaky due to the amount of tension between you, growing thicker with every second.

“Hmm. I believe you did. You’re turning me weak and desperate”

Oh, he was good, he was so fucking good. Death to the morality, decency and common sense. You were more than willing to let him have what he wanted.

“God, you are good at this, aren’t you?” you breathed, staring into his dangerous eyes, feeling like the world around you decreases and anchors in his irises.

And the next thing was very much unexpected, because he leaned in and delicately kissed you on the mouth. Not in a simple and innocent way, not a little peck, soft yet so intimate and erotic that it made you dizzy.

“There’s many more things I’m good at” he whispered against your lips before kissing you again “Let me show you” another kiss.

Oh, oh God. You could feel your legs shake already. Your blood pulsing in your veins. There was wetness gathering in your underwear. Words, he was using words, and you ended up in a state where there appeared a thin line, easily to break for you to fall apart. Too little air to breathe. Too little of him.

“I can make you feel so good” he breathed before kissing you again. This time you could not stop it, a little moan leaving your chest, meating with his lips.

It was like a spur, he stepped forward, pushing you to turn and lean against the kitchen counter. His hands on the both sided behind you. Trapped. Under him, under his intense gaze, his lust. He pushed his mouth on yours, this time the kiss more urgent, lasting, passionate. You reached with your hands to his neck to keep him there, revelling in the softness yet firmness of his lips. His leg sneaking between your legs, you moved against it. Another of your moans kissed away, you were fucking close to peak. Just few more thrusts, you could feel it. A dirtier kiss, his tongue sticking out to swiftly lick and catch your own. You were breathless and dazed. The attraction, the want, the need, everything you felt right now was unfamiliar. An experience so powerful and rousing, you were afraid it could make you go mad. Few more pushes, it felt other-worldly. But he stopped, leaning back, putting his hand on your hip to prevent your movement. You whined in protest, he just smirked.

“I want to kiss you” he declared.

“Then kiss me” your brain fogged, you foolishly tried to lean into him.

He meant something else, you realized after a minute.

“Not there, darling” as he slowly kneeled in front of you.

You swallowed, observing him in this whole new position. Below you, on his knees, the look on his face menacing.

“May I?” he asked, placing his hands under your short dress.

You nodded, and it was enough for him. He reached higher, taking the strings of the thongs you were wearing between his fingers, gently and slowly drawing them down your legs. All this time his eyes were on you. You adored his eyes and the way he looked at you, yes. He hiked up your left leg to put it on his shoulder, with no further delay he pushed the folds of your dress higher. You cried out at the first simple contact. It was madness. You tried holding yourself straight by keeping your hands on the counter behind you, but he pushed his tongue deep inside you and you jumped, one of your hands reached for his head, feeling his hair for the first time. Few more moments, few quick and feverish breaths and you started whining. You were loud. Not obnoxiously loud, just vocal. You knew you wouldn’t last long, grinding on his mouth a little sheepishly, wetness now trailing down your thigh. The sight of him standing up after he was finished, with his chin glistening, using his forearm to wipe it clean was exquisite. You were never familiar with orgasms this quick and powerful. You almost slipped but he caught you.

Now you were even more desperate. So you took him to your bedroom. Reaching with your needy hands to remove his t-shirt, taking a breath when your gaze met with his bare torso. You started to admire his built, well defined muscles, soft, beautiful, dark skin. He noticed your stare and you smiled playfully at his reaction. He was so handsome. Then he was kissing you again.

“I want this dress off” he muttered lowly and you sweetly batted your eyelashes at him before taking a step back to grant him his wish.

“And I want you on the bed” he added.

You left your stockings on, partly forgetting about them at first, then making your mind about leaving them to add to your seductive appearance. He seemed to approve it, as you could conclude from the way he was observing the whole act of you gently sitting down on the bed, putting your legs up elegantly, then laying down to lewdly part them for his eyes to see everything. You could notice him suck in a breath. You were truly affecting him in a way you would never expect. What was it that made you so special? There were girls of sorts in this world, and he could have them all. Just the thought of it thrilled you. Now it was him that grew desperate, hurriedly tossing the belt aside, pulling the pants off.

“I thought you’d make a show out of it” you joked.

“I’m too hard for that, love”

You giggled and he was quick to join you. Once more you felt the excitement hit you strong when you had him close. So you kissed him. There was no place for playing and teasing now, you opened up widely for him, there was urge and desperation. A sharp sting when he entered you, a sure and swift move, accented by your whimper. He groaned throatily, feeling you coat him. You needed a moment, a moment for a few breaths. It’s been a while.

“Be good. Don’t wanna bust too fast” his voice breathy.

You looked him in the eyes, kissed him briefly and then pulled away, focusing on flexing the kegel muscles to hug him while buried deep inside of you. And you achieved your goal spectacularly, making him curse under his breath, a sweet frown on his face.

“Oh, you mean don’t do that?” in a soft and innocent voice.

He moved.

“You’re sweet” rough thrust.

“Ah!” you cried, not being prepared to be so sensitive and responsive at this point.

“Sweet girl, wanna be smart with me” thrust.

His words messier now, less coherent. You were so full, already grasping at his shoulders, you legs locking him in, your belly tensing, seeking pleasure yet still trying to accustom to the prominent feeling radiating from between your legs.

“Tell me how you want it” he whispered against your parted lips.

“Gentle”

“Oh, I think you like it opposite” another sharp snap of his hips.

Another whine filling the room. You loved it.

“Come on, kiss me” he asked.

Never before you have experienced this much talking during sex, your partners mostly fixated on the part that brought them the awaited release. This was new, exciting to you, adding to every other strong sensation you felt at this very moment.

You opened your mouth for him to ravish you further, his tongue still precise when he kissed you, while you started to turn sloppy. He sped his movements up, your senses now only focused on it. Too dazed and intoxicated you could not find any strength to kiss him back anymore, letting him take control over everything, sighing little moans into his mouth. You writhed under him after you heard him moan into your ear. You clenched around him, now uncontrollably, dangerously close to fall apart.

“Oh no baby, not yet” he murmured sneaking an arm around your middle, pulling you up with him.

You sighed, your hair falling in messy waves on your back, shoulders and face, you did not care about fixing them. Now you were seated on top of him, almost worn out already, placing your hands on his shoulders to keep yourself straight. You opened your heavy lids to notice him watching you attentively. Hooded eyes, lips parted, a little bit of sweat on his temple, you were mesmerized. Putting one of his hands behind him, he reached with the other to wrap it around your middle, however you had other ideas. He gave you the perfect opportunity to take control. You wanted to bound him to you and it was possible through a very simple feminine spell – to put him down and strip him from all the power he believed he possessed.

“Lay down on your back” you murmured gingerly, placing your palm on his chest. Like a plea, he enjoyed your softness and delicacy. You were about to give him more taste of that. What happens if he can’t be in charge?

He did as you said and the lovely sight before your eyes was enlivening. A powerful shot of rapture awoke more confidence in you. His hands reached up to grasp your hips but you snapped them away.

“Don’t” you warned.

His chuckle was almost dark.

“You want to be in control, huh?”

“Shut up”

“Yeah, go on, love. I wanna see you movin” he was amused.

You were going to wipe that smirk off his face. The first roll of your hips slow and careful, simple, the next one more purposeful. You smiled playfully before circling your hips on your way back. Slow, tantalizingly slow, back and forward, back and forward. You were watching him, observing how his face changed when you sped up only to slow down again. A groan and a delicate pout appearing on his face immediately. His hands resting on your thighs, you were careful. Innocent eyes, a soft moan leaving his lips, a honeyed sound. You even caught his belly tensing. Oh, you got him.

“Do you like that?” you asked sweetly “Do you like how I’m fucking you, Jude? Are you close?”

No words from him, he just groaned in frustration trying to reach for your hips. You slapped them away again. Lowering your body you thought about kissing him. His mouth turning sloppier now, the contact was all tongue and saliva. He pushed his hips up into you, making you moan.

“That’s enough” he rasped as you leaned back. He grabbed your hips roughly and you prepared yourself for the upcoming ferocity.

A giggle died in your throat as he fucked up into you, holding you strong, his fingers digging almost painfully into your skin.

It was your name he called. Yet it was too late and you were too tired to realize what you have done.

-

special tag @madridfangirl

[sleepyparalysisdmon]

SVT doing acts of service

Requested? Yes! 

Request: 'seventeen members and what they would for their partner who’s love language is acts of service :)'

A/N: there are so many different kinds of acts of service, but I picked the ones that really stuck out to me. 

Seungcheol - car maintenance and care

You haven’t had to fill up your gas tank in months, years even, because it never seems to come close to empty. You haven’t thought about needing an oil change or tire rotation because the little sticker in the corner of your windshield always looks new. You forget how a drive thru car wash works because your car is always sparkling. And if your check engine light ever does come on with an actual issue, best believe he’s swapping cars for the day to take care of it. Almost entirely motivated by you being safe, but the shiny car with a full tank of gas kind of makes him proud when he returns it to you.

Jeonghan - does the dishes 

You said a single time that dishes were your least favorite chore. You grumbled about it but had every intention of doing it as soon as you could work up the motivation. But he’s rolling his eyes lovingly, pushing you back towards your seat saying, “I’ll do it, but you’re so whiney.” Don’t let it fool you. He doesn’t mind it and even tells you to just leave it for him later. Might even scold you a little bit if you didn't leave them for him.

Joshua - always makes coffee

Absolutely does not matter how early he has to wake up or if it might make him late, but he’s starting the coffee pot. You said one time that you were running late and really needed coffee but didn’t have time to make any or stop somewhere. So every morning when you rush around the apartment to get ready for work, you find fresh coffee with an insulated cup next to the pot for you to fill and go. So small yet so nice at the same time. 

Jun - cooking dinner

You get a little stressed about dinner. After a long day, it’s so, so easy to come home and say “fuck it, I’m ordering something.” But you lament how expensive and unhealthy that habit is sometimes, so you occasionally come home and are surprised to see him there too, cooking dinner. Will not listen to a single second of nagging for him to rest because he really doesn’t mind if it reduces your stress and ensure you’re eating properly and actually wishes he could do it more often. 

Hoshi - packing your lunch 

Similar to Jun, but you often forget to pack lunch the night before and can’t do it in the morning when you’re running late. He sends you to get ready for bed and says he’ll be there in a few. The next morning, he reminds you to grab your lunch from the fridge on your way out. It’s not always this super cute, aesthetically pleasing box lunch, but it’s always nice that he thinks to do it at all.

Wonwoo - organizing your things

You have a pile of things that need to be put away and organized, be it books, or clothes, or groceries. He’ll take over without really being asked. Your bookshelf is neatly alphabetized. Your closet is organized by color or item type, whichever you prefer. Your groceries are put away to your preferences, whether it be by date of expiration or on low shelves to ensure you can reach it. Will not accept any thanks because he just likes doing it. 

Woozi - filling up your water bottle

At the first sight or sound of your water bottle draining, he’s holding out his hand expectantly. Does not matter if you tell him you can do it yourself because you’re wasting your breath. Very much an “I know, but let me do it.” And you do let him do it a majority of the time because it’s kind of sweet how quickly he responds. 

DK - shoulder rubs

This feeds a little bit of the physical touch love language too, but it is still most certainly an act of service. If he sees that you’ve had a hard day or your shoulders are tense, he’s pulling you in front of him or coming up behind your seat to rub out your shoulders. It makes you melt, not only because it feels good and relaxes you, but because it’s always ended with a little kiss and a “feel better?”  

Mingyu - takes care of your pet

Literally the first to volunteer to scoop the litter box, or walk the dog, or clean out the fish tank. Doesn’t matter what kind of pet you have, he wants to learn about it and help you care for it. This also extends to making time for vet appointments when you’re too busy to do it yourself. If you ever say anything about how he doesn’t need to do all that, he’ll cry out, “but that’s our child!!” Don’t deny him his time with his child. 

Minghao - opens things for you

Another one that does the whole “I know, but let me.” He barely watches you struggle to open something for a second before he’s holding out his hand or just straight up taking the item from you. Might even preemptively open things for you before he hands them to you. It’s a totally silent, easy way to show he cares so please let him keep doing it. 

Seungkwan - dries your hair for you

(I’ve definitely written about this before for him, so this was an obvious choice.) Knows you’re usually tired by the time you shower at night, so he’s making you sit down in the bathroom so he can meticulously dry your hair for you. He kind of likes how it puts you to sleep too because it means it was relaxing or soothing for you. Will never let you touch a hair dryer if he’s around. 

Vernon - untangles things for you

It starts with your headphones. You lament that the cords always get tangled and bent in your bag. He takes the headphones from you right then to untangle them. He even winds the cord neatly so it won’t happen when you put them back in your bag. This little habit extends to things like necklaces when they get knotted or tangled in one another. He doesn’t even let you ask about it - if he sees a tangled necklace on your vanity or counter that you left to deal with later out of frustration, he’ll just stop and do it right then. Another one that won’t accept any thanks because he doesn’t mind doing it. 

Chan - organizing your medicine

Doesn’t want you to forget it, no matter what you might take it for. Buys a little pill organizer and sits down once a week to fill it up for you. It’s such a little thing that sometimes you forget you never have to do it. It’s just magically always full at the beginning of the week. He usually knows when you’ve run out of a medication and need a refill before you because of this little habit, and might take initiative to get them for you when he can. 

[fashionteahouse]

out of your league - paul x reader

AN: Thank you so much for giving the last sixteen parts, so much love and support ! digital kisses to all of you xoxo

Since the conversation with Old Quil, Paul’s arms were always tight around you.

Things were starting to change a bit. For instance, you woke up to Paul muttering and whispering in his sleep.

Laying there, watching him shift a bit, as he then jerked awake. Not noticing you watching him, he turns his head away from you to check the time.

Every other hour he’s been waking up from his sleep before it could get into the rapid eye movement cycle.

In the morning, you yawned as you stared at your morning drink. You tried to convince Paul to at least tell Sam to let him sleep some, but he brushed it off. Using the excuse of, “Phasing will wake me up. I will be alright.”

When he came back, he didn’t care what you were doing. His hands pulled you out of your clothes and made sure you were in the shower with him.

Multitasking was vital. The soapy loafa you rubbed in circles on his chest was held in your hand. One hand around his waist, he held you close to him. He kept coming into your view to keep kissing on you as you tried to take the time to wash him, but you needed your eyes open to see.

It was hard.

Just how he pounded himself into you. He was tired in the face but his body said completely different. The grip on you was strong as you clutched onto him. Your back was on the bed until both of his arms lifts it up and he manually but easily rocks you into him.

He kept chanting for you to look at him. He was being unfair when you couldn’t help it when you closed your eyes at moments at the sensation he brought.

You thought you were going to die. Not in a bad way. His strength was larger than yours but it his movements was overwhelmingly great. He made you see stars.

You felt his eyes on you as you lay next to him but you knew his time to sleep was limited before he had to leave.

You had dozed off and he was still lying there. Staring at you.

“Go to sleep.” you try to say firm but it you said it drowsily. He doesn’t listen. He doesn’t know what personal space is as he then scoots up next to you, almost on you.

It seemed as soon as Paul shut the backdoor to leave out, that’s when you woke up.

You sat nervously at the edge of the bed, fully dressed and running on nothing but pure adrenaline.

Your fingers slowly typed out a sentence to the person who you were dreading to see today.

”Happy birthday Bella :^) ”

Not even closing out of messages, she typed back.

“Thanks :) ”

You slowly letter by letter, type another response.

“I have your gift”

She types a response as well.

“Thanks! I’ll see you after school right?”

You sigh a bit before hesitatingly typing back.

“Yeah.”

Your hands were sweaty as you set the phone down.

You slid out the preserved gift out of the box that you had it in. You stared down at the glistening handcrafted beauty. You look up and figured only two more days before you could leave and distance yourself from them all.

Questions started to swirl your brain as the water ran down your body in the shower. Thoughts of being baited made your heart race.

Imagining yourself walking in, vampires drooling and menacingly walking towards you to drain the life out of you was all that you kept thinking about. You also wondered how you got Edward so comfortable. There had to be an angle. He wouldn’t just tell you this for nothing. You were sure of it.

An hour had passed and you wished time could go slow. You felt trapped in the home that you were in and decided to go to a local store. You needed wrapping paper to wrap the painting up.

You pretended to actually care about which wrapping paper looked the best.

You slowly walked home. You slowly wrapped the gift. When you were done, you felt trapped again.

Knocking on the elderly man’s door, your nose breathed in the fresh air.

You sat on the sofa as you spoke out your worries.

“What if I do die? Doesn’t this all seem fishy to you?” you ask him.

Old Quil shakes his head as he tried to calm you.

“You’re untouchable. They can’t touch you, you live on this land.” he says with his finger pointing down to state the fact.

“Why did Edward get comfortable enough to just tell me things? Why is he showing infatuation and I don’t even know him?” you question.

“Be glad in a way. You probably make him feel his age again.” the ancient voice suggested.

You rub your hands nervously and sigh out a bit as you try to calm your own self down.

He thinks for a moment. His wrinkled finger tapped slowly and said, “Don’t go straight home. Come back here.”

“How come?” you ask.

“Bringing back their stench won’t be good for Paul. You have to change before you go home.”

You nod and rise to make your you walk back home. After you bring a change of clothes, you tell him your farewells as you tell him that you’re starting your journey to Bella’s school. Timing your management of being there when she comes out of school.

“Tell Paul that I do care about him, if you see him.” you tell him.

“I’ll pass the word.” he promises.

Seeing students walk out of the building just made seem everything more real. You didn’t get dramatically dressed up, but you had on an outfit that was still chic.

Holding the wrapped present in your slightly shaking hands, your heart dropped at the sight of Bella walking down the steps. Edward was majestically walking behind her as she chatted about something. Instantaneously, his colored eyes snap to yours.

You look elsewhere but Bella then calls your name with a huge smile on her face. She had distanced herself from Edward as she walked toward you with pep in her step.

It was a bit contagious, you couldn’t help but smile a little as you start to meet her halfway. She surprised you with a hug as you lean into her with your hands full.

You nervously extend the gift out as she glanced down.

“Can I open it now?” she asks.

Your mouth opens up but you were cut off by someone saying, “You should open it with your other gifts.” You saw the way that Edward looked at her while she stared up at him, she then agrees to such idea.

He would be a liar if he claimed he wasn’t interested in knowing what it was, himself. All he knew, was the shape of it and the involvement with you in it.

Sparkling teeth startled you as they were suddenly in your face. You actually took a small step back but the person didn’t care. The petite figure was in your sight line. Her golden eyes swooped a glance at your outfit from toe to head, showing a favorable look.

The pitched voice then spoke out, “You have to be Y/N.”

You nod a bit at her intense enthusiastic impression.

Edward steps in, bringing his sister out of your face. “Alice, you’re scaring her.”

She turns her head to him, showing you the side of her inky black, short hair. She slightly narrows her eyes as she looked to her brother, “I am not.” She then huffs a bit and looks to you with an optimistic smile, “Am I scaring you?”

You just nervously smile before Edward cuts in again with a slight smirk as he looks to you, “You don’t have to lie, Y/N.”

This brings Bella to chuckle as she witnessed this interaction. She knew first hand of Alice’s personality.

Alice rolls her large golden eyes with agile you’ve never seen before, at his remark. Turning her attention back to you with a cheerful smile, “Are you coming back with us?”

“I-I thought that the party was a little later on.” you say quietly as you look at her.

“Bella is going back to Charlie’s before we go. You can come with us.” Edward suggests. Your eyes look to him as he looks back. You look to Bella and she has a hopeful expression on her face.

“Sure.” you say. You would rather not go by yourself with a house full of vampires you didn’t know.

Bella leads you to her truck as Alice and Edward walk away together.

As you click in your seatbelt, you watch as Alice starts talking to him closely about something. There was great enthusiasm but her mouth moved very fast. The way her body moved showed there was an hint of passion behind what she was saying. Edward stood like stone, his expression was even, but his eyes kept glancing to yours. You decide to look over, to see Bella putting her wrapped present near her.

“I can’t wait to open this.” she says with a hint of excitement.

You softly smile, “I hope you like it.”

The drive to her home made you less nervous. She chatted to you about her day. As you climbed her steps, a silver car parked in the same driveway. Edward steps out and you move into the home behind Bella.

Bella leads you up the stairs to her room and she sees a large present on her bed. She groans a bit that makes you tinkle out a chuckle.

She pulls up the top part of her box to reveal a dress that was for her. She read the small note. It was from Alice.

“It’s my birthday but I can’t dress how I want.” Bella jokes as she gestures at the outfit that she has on.

“Just wear what you want. Save it for another occasion.” you say as you looked at the fabric of the dress, knowing it was high end.

“No, I’ll wear it. I told them no gifts so, it’s the least I could do.” she decides.

Walking down the stairs, the boy was sitting on a sofa. Bella sits next to him as you sat in a recliner. She turns on the television. She puts on a movie that she wanted to watch. Romeo and Juliet.

You barely paid attention to the movie. You however, thankfully seen this movie before. You wouldn’t be caught off guard by questions or comments. Your mind went to Paul. Then to your trip. You let your mind imagine what requests would be called for you to do.

You didn’t notice the movie was over until you heard murmured chatters between Bella and Edward discussing the movie a bit.

“What did you think?” Bella asks you. Edward looks at you also.

You shrug a bit, “Yeah. It was alright.”

Just then, a man comes in with a box of pizza.

”Hey dad.” Bella says as she rises and greets her father.

“Hey Bells. You look nice. Figured you didn’t want to cook or do any dishes for your birthday.” you hear him say as he sets the box down on the kitchen table.

You introduce yourself but he seemed to already know who you were. He heard your name but he finally was able to put it to a face.

“You can help yourself to some pizza, kid.” he offers as he opens the box.

He offers Edward to some but, he of course declines. He does still join all of you at the table as he sat with a glass of water in front of him.

“Do you mind if we borrow Bella this evening?” he asked Charlie politely.

“We?” you thought in your head as you slowly chewed. This was all of their doing.

“I don’t have a problem with it. There’s a game tonight so I wouldn’t be much company.” he replies with his permission.

Bella remembers something as you all meet back in the living room. She then holds a silver camera in her hands. She snaps a quick picture of Edward and jokes, “See, it works.”

“You and Y/N should take a picture together.” Charlie suggests.

You wrap your arm around her and she leans against you with her arm around you. It looked as if you both were close friends for a very long time. Edward’s delicate finger clicked on the button of the camera, sporting a small grin.

“Make sure to take pictures. Renée will want to see. You know how your mother is.” Charlie says to Bella as you put your shoes back on.

“I will.” Bella promised.

You sat in the back seat, your eyes dart at the fleeting trees. Your seat belt was snug against you.

“Jeez, who are you running from?” you say at his speed limit.

Both Edward and Bella chuckle.

“He always drive like this. I hate it, I swear.” Bella comments from the passenger seat.

Edward lets up from the gas just a bit. The lit up home comes into view, bright lights shining on the first two floors. Before you realized he turned the engine off, you and Bella’s doors were opened by Edward.

Your eyes looked at the architecture of the home. It just made sense for a family like them. Big bowels of pink roses were lined up along the wide stairs to the front doors. Edward held both Bella’s hand and the gift you gave her in each hand.

“Of course.” Bella moaned quietly at the sight.

“Be a good sport.” Edward says softly to her.

Bella’s eyes look to you, showing that she was telling the truth of not really wanting to do anything over the top.

You all three climb the stairs, you were moving slower than the other two on purpose. Edward let go of Bella’s hand to open the door for her as she held onto the camera she brung.

With him still holding the door, Edward patiently watched you as you picked up your pace. He walks closely behind you but that’s when you saw them all standing in the white living room. It looked like they were posing. You were almost blinded by their cluster of beauty.

They greeted Bella with a chorus of, “Happy birthday, Bella!” You watch as she blushed and looked down.

You looked around and saw that every flat surface had been covered with pink candles and dozens of crystal bowls filled with hundreds of roses. Your eyes then shifted over to a table with a white cloth draped over it, holding a birthday cake, more roses, a stack of glass plates and a small pile of silver-wrapped presents. It was pleasing to the eye. There was also a grand piano that was sitting strong next to the filled table.

Two people who you assumed were Edward and Alice’s parents, came forward to Bella. The woman carefully hugged Bella and planted a kiss on her forehead. The man wraps an arm around her, “I’m sorry Bella. I know it’s much but, Alice couldn’t resist.” he says in a stage whisper. His eyes then cast to you, he displays a warm smile, “Glad you could join us.”

You nod and politely smile. The woman he stood next to, then moved forward and introduced herself. Esme was her name. She was youthful as ever but had a motherly demeanor. She opens her arms and asks for permission with her eyes. You didn’t want to be rude so you slowly walked into her embrace. She was careful but you could still sense the strength.

The man then moves forward as Esme steps back from you, introducing himself. So, this was Carlisle. Instead of a full hug like Esme, he wraps an arm around you in a side embrace.

“Another human?” someone suddenly speaks from behind them.

She was blonde and gloriously gorgeous. The glare she gave you didn’t intimidate you. You didn’t display a noticeable glare but you held her amber eyes into your own. Not breaking eye contact no matter what.

“Be nice, Rosalie. This is a friend of Bella’s. She’s in the knowing.” Carlisle explains carefully.

“Let me guess. Someone put her in the knowing.” she comes back with. She glanced at Bella and then behind you, to Edward. You didn’t know he was still behind you, you swivel your head to see his casual smile at her.

He steps out and walks out from behind you, “She already knew.” he just says.

Not being able to say more, she just leaves it at that and a large man just lovingly touches her arm to calm her down. His face was stretched into a huge grin and steps foreword with his hand out, “I’m Emmett.” You shake it.

He then gives Alice a quick look, “I have to step out for a second.” He then makes his exit out of the same door you entered in.

Alice lets go of a man’s hand she was holding and gives you a friendly welcoming smile. She then points over to the man who was distant and quiet, “That’s Jasper.” she tells you. You nod in acknowledgment but he gives you a small smile without saying a word. She skips over to Bella and puts a cool hand under her elbow as she leads her to the filled table that contained the pile of presents.

“Time to open presents.” She says excitedly. Bella puts on a martyr look, “I told you no gifts Alice-” she starts but Alice cuts her off by saying, “I know, I know. But, it’s your birthday.” She takes the camera from Bella’s hand as she replaced it with a big, square silvery box.

“Open it.” Alice says.

Bella reads the top of it as it was from Emmett, Jasper, and Rosalie. She slowly tears it open to find a box that looked like something that was electrical. You didn’t know what it was. She didn’t know what it was either. She opened the box, only to find it empty. A flash is made from Bella’s camera as Alice holds it.

“Thanks? I guess.” Bella says.

This makes you laugh, right along with Jasper, and even Rosalie cracked a smile.

“It’s a stereo for your truck. Emmett is installing it so you can’t return it.” Jasper explains to Bella.

“Thanks Jasper and Rosalie.” Bella says smiling and then turns in the direction of the door, “Thanks Emmett!” she says a bit louder.

Before Alice could fully pick up the next gift, Edward steps forward to Bella.

“Open Y/N’s gift.” he encouraged to her. She takes it with no protests as she actually wanted to see what this gift was.

All eyes stayed on Bella, curiosity was thick in the room. Emmett then bounded through the door as he says, “Just in time.” He goes next to Rosalie who is also very curious to see what you’ve brought.

Bella slowly tore open the wrapping paper. She gasped a little before tearing it open with more haste. She held the canvas up, the colors against it, swimming in everyone’s eyes. Low murmurs wafted in the room as they looked at the vivid picture.

“Oh my goodness. That’s beautiful!” Esme says as she admiringly stared at what was in Bella’s hands. Jasper was even closer than where he was to get a good look.

Bella had a sparkle in her eye as she let her eyes follow each detailed illustration. Alice was over her shoulder as she too stared.

“It looks so real, Y/N.” Bella says as she’s wowed. and goes to hug you with one arm. “Thank you. Seriously. I love it.” she says beaming at you. You couldn’t help but smile back at her.

“It is impressive.” Edward comments, not taking his eyes off it.

“Yeah.” Alice agrees wholeheartedly. She snapped a quick photo of Bella holding it and she goes over to lift a small flat covered square in her hand.

“From me and Edward.” she says excitedly.

Bella gives Edward a look, “You promised.”

“I didn’t spend a dime.” he reassures as she passed him the gift she currently already had in her hand.

Bella inhaled deeply before saying to Alice, “Fine.”

Alice gives it to her so she could open it. Seeing her struggle, almost snagging her finger, you hurry up and gently take the present. “You’ll cut yourself if you’re too rough.” you softly say to her. You help her loosen the tape and the paper as she is able to smoothly open the gift safely.

“Thanks.” she quickly but gratefully says before reading the written words on the cd.

“Bella’s lullaby.” she softly reads out and looks to Edward. He gives a polite grin at her.

“Edward composed it. I just helped him put it on CD.” Alice says highly.

“You make music?” you asked Edward, who immediately shifts his eyes to you as soon as your voice makes a sound. His lifts his lip into a half smile with a slight smug, “I play piano.” Your eyes immediately look to the beautiful grand piano.

“I love it when he plays. He should play something.” Esme gushed with her hands together.

“I want to listen to this at home for my first time.” Bella tells Edward as she holds the protected cd disc up. Edward still makes his way to the piano.

“Fair. I will play something else instead.” he says and Esme’s face lights up.

A peak of interest ignited in you as Edward sets his fingers to the white tiles. It then felt like a jump scare as goosebumps started to slowly form on your skin. You froze. You knew that song as soon as the opening notes played. Your eyes are to the floor as your eyes narrowed a bit. It was the classical song that you told him that was your favorite. Although you couldn’t remember all of the song’s name, he still ended up finding out exactly what song you were talking about. You didn’t watch him. The tiles on the floor beneath you were more interesting to look at but, the piano cover was bliss for your ears. You noticed he had changed some notes, you hated to admit that it sounded a bit better in his version. Only a bit.

Small claps applauded him and you lift up your gaze and you half heartedly give your own small applause. He shot you a look of knowing before smiling at his family.

Alice picks up the last silver gift. Handing it to Bella, Bella looks over to smile at Carlisle and Esme.

Esme smiles a bit, “Something to brighten up your day. You’ve been looking kind of pale lately.”

Tearing it open, she holds up a ticket and says, “To Florida, to go to my mom. Thank you.” She walks over to them both and they give her a gentle hug.

Alice placed candles on the cake as someone dimmed the lights. Carlisle placed set fire to the candles, lighting it up. Alice holds it in front of Bella as you all sang happy birthday together. Alice singing in a higher octave than all you. Bella breaths in a bit and as she closed her eyes for a moment and blew out the candles.

Bella and yourself held a small plate of cake that Esme had cut for the both of you. Conversations had Bella’s undivided attention and you let your eyes wander around the Cullen’s home.

As soon as you were done, Alice was there in front of you, expecting you to hand her your empty plate.

“Thank you.” you say as she takes it and went to the sink and back to you before a full blink.

“Thank you for coming.” she says as she stretched her small face into a smile.

The smile was returned in a small dose.

“Come on, let’s test it.” you heard the booming voice of Emmett. You watch as Bella follows with a grin, while shaking her head, out the door with Emmett with Rosalie slowly following behind them.

Alice skips over to Jasper and turns on some music. The pop song softly played in the room as she grabbed Jaspers hands as he couldn’t do nothing but smirk at her.

You were about to turn fully away until she says in a high trill, “Y/N, dance with us!”

Golden eyes in the room were all on you as you slowly backed away, “I um…Have to use the bathroom.” you quickly stammer out.

You walk out and realize while you were walking down a hallway, directions weren’t given. You didn’t have to use it anyway. Dancing in front of them just didn’t sound like a comfortable idea at the moment.

Coming to a dead end, you see nothing but closed doors but, only one door cracked open. You decide to turn around but you jump silently as you were startled to a great degree. Edward was there in front of you, staring back at you. He gives you a peak of his white teeth as he says, “Need help finding it?”

“I almost found it.” you say softly to walk around him.

“You’re not curious?” he asks in the same volume as yours.

You turn to look at him to see what he’s talking about and the door opens wider with just two of his fingers. He placed them back into his pockets. His eyes smothered yours. You rip your eyes away and take a glance into the room. The wall was the only aspect that caught your attention. Nothing but illustrated history, your feet worked against you as they moved towards the largest picture on the wall. Calling it captivating was under describing it.

Looking at the golden haired man, you recognized it was Carlisle who was amongst the three other men. Your heart clenched as you looked to each individual’s exquisite face. Carlisle was unchanged, showing proof of his immortality. The others were two dark haired men with one that had hair as white as snow. You would’ve thought it was a picture until your eyes flickered to the black signature on the bottom corner.

Leaning forward a bit, you knew the medium that was used was of oil. They were painted onto the highest balcony and calmly overlooked the swirling mayhem of color. They were like royalty.

Seeing a capital cursive S in the signature, you just had to ask without taking your eyes off of it.

“Who’s the artist?” you ask. By the looks of their clothing, it was centuries years old. You wondered if the painter was still alive. Probably not.

He speaks from behind you and you turn to face the voice, “Solimena often painted them as gods.” he says with a small laugh.

You nod in a trance as your eyes kept swimming over the greatly designed piece. It hung up nicely in a wooden frame.

His pale finger is now in your eye sight as he pointed to each face, “Aro, Marcus, and Caius. Nighttime patrons of the arts.” he mused.

“Are they still alive?” you ask him with eye contact. He slowly brings on a small smirk, “Of course.”

You kept note of their names as you looked back to the large painting. Edward watched you watch it. What was interesting most of all was, the scenery in your head that he was able to have a peek into. He enamored the creativity that started to swirl around. He knew he helped open the door for inspiration.

He didn’t expect you to turn and walk toward the exit of the room so quickly. He followed you and then touched your shoulder gently, “You don’t want to see the others?” he asks softly.

You shake your head, “That one caught my eye the most.” you confess. You then halt your steps. This confused him a bit.

You lift your eyes up to him, “After this party, you have seen the last of me.” you say, almost to deaf to your own ears. He heard you perfectly. He didn’t want to.

Moving closer and shaking his head whispering, “Not true.”

You scoff before turning but your right back in front of his face by him turning you around.

“You live in this world, Y/N. You can’t just not see me again.” he says with a chuckle that aimed for the foolish claim that you proposed.

“I was polite to come. It really was for Bella.” you say in the same deafening tone and then huff out a small sigh as you brought your next words together, “Your world is dangerous. I’m in deep but, there’s still room for me to get out.”

“My world would protect you. That’s why..” he trails off to say but he stops himself with his eyes closing.

You started to grow frustrated, “I’m protected just fine…. That’s why, what?”

He just looks at you without giving you an answer. You tried to wait patiently but, it was just simply too long without a clue. It just felt like you were having a staring contest with him. Giving up, you stomp away from him. Coming back to the birthday scenery, it seemed as nothing changed. Except, Bella was pleading Alice not to make her dance.

Seeing you come back into view, Alice drops Bella’s resisting hand and skips over to you.

“Y/N, will dance with me.” she states with a confident smile. You didn’t get a chance to resist either as she’s moving her body while holding both of your hands.

She spins you around quickly, the action making you leak out a surprised laugh. You tried to forget the recent conversation and just make your body do a couple of dance moves to the beat that was playing. Alice’s laugh chimed out in the air, happy that someone other than Jasper actually made an effort to dance with her. The song comes to an end.

You stopped moving and got shy when you saw that Edward was looking at you with an expression you couldn’t quite figure out.

“I should get home. Charlie’s game is probably almost over.” Bella says as she looks to Edward.

“Aww no.” Alice whines a bit, her face is fallen at the possibility of the event being over. “A little longer please?” She begs Bella.

“I’m a bit tired as well.” She smiles softly. You silently thanked her in your head.

“Let’s get her and Y/N home.” Edward says to his sister. Alice pulls in her small pout and walks towards you since you were closer to her, “I’m so glad you came.” she whispers happily. You heard people tell Bella her last happy birthdays and you were still in the hug. Pulling back, she was still hugging you. She then pulls back and had a smile stuck on her face. You turn but her cool hand jets out to you, “We’ll talk soon?” she asks with hope.

You make a polite and small nod, not really meaning to that commitment.

Farewells to you and Bella were made. Something stuck out to you. The way that they hugged her, made it seem like it was the last they would see of her. They were vocal however with you, saying things like, “Hope to see you soon,” “Don’t be a stranger to us.”

You walk out of the car with Bella and Edward, into her home.

Charlie’s game did come to an end, with only the highlights playing. Hearing the door and you all into his view, he says to all of you, “You kids have fun?”

You nod as Bella chuckles, “It was very eventful.”

“I hope you took pictures.” Charlie says.

“There’s pictures.” Bella says with a soft smile and she then turns to Edward.

“I will see you tomorrow?” she asks him. He just says, “Probably.”

She then gives you a hug, “Thank you. I love my gift.”

Your arms tighten around her. She then quickly pulls back, “Oh, shoot! Do you need me to drive you home?”

Before your mouth could fix words, Edward steps in, “It’s fine Bella, I can take her home.”

“No, that’s okay-“ you start to tell him but he talks over you, “We have to get Bella’s painting out of the car.”

The way that he looked at you showed he was giving you a hint. You don’t say anything and just walk out and down her steps.

Edward held her painting that he took out of her car but you quietly say, “How are you going to take me home if you’re not allowed on La Push land?”

“I’m not taking you to La Push. After we talk, you’re free to go where you need to go.”

“What do we have to talk about?”

“About your trip.” he says and climbs the stairs with grace before disappearing into her home.

You felt a buzz from your phone and with him gone, you check it.

“I care about you too”

Your heart was quenched from the message you have received from Paul.

Another notification pops up and it’s from an unknown number.

“Hiii this is Alice ! I hope you had as much fun as we did XD”

“How the hell did she get my number?” You thought to yourself but it seemed like she answered the question when she sent another text.

“Got your number from when Bella let me hold her phone to see your birthday text to her btw ;)”

“Oh lord.” you thought as you looked to the sky.

The door closing brought you back to reality and Edward feeling comfortable enough to use his speed, he already had the passenger door open.

The quiet hum of the engine was the only thing that surrounded the small space. He was driving at the same high speed, you wondered how he hadn’t gotten pulled over for it.

“Say something.” he says quietly.

You shake your head, “I meant what I said. After tonight I can’t see you or your family again…I might have to not see Bella again either.” you whisper out the last part.

“I meant what I said as well.” he says.

“You can’t mess up what I have.” you say to him, “You answered my questions in exchange for me coming. Now, we’re even.”

He glanced at you with an astute expression.

“We’re not even. There’s something that I want.”

Your heart thuds almost of your chest.

“What do you want?” you ask with fear.

“Calm down, it’s nothing harmful.” he says reassuring. Your heart was beating wildly in his ears.

Calming down a bit, “Okay, then what?” you ask.

You realize you were going back into the direction of the Cullen’s residence. Eyes are wildly searching his face for answers.

“I just want to talk.” he answers seriously.

Getting out of the car, it was as if a party never happened. Everything was cleaned up and there was no signs of life.

“They’re all out hunting now.” he says as he opens one of the doors for you.

Stepping in, the house was deadly silent. He climbs his fancy stairs and you follow him.

He stands by his large bedroom window with his hands in his pockets, the moon shining very brightly through it. It was its own light. You actually saw the glimmer of diamonds that jumped and dance on his skin. You cross your arms.

“I’m going with you.”

“Like hell you are.” you bark at him.

You got even angrier when he stared back at you, not saying a word.

“You’re not!” you say again to get it through his head. You started to pace as you shook your head at the thought of him coming.

“Alice has seen it. You go by yourself, it will turn ugly.”

“Bullshit.” you hiss out.

“Bulltrue.” he says with amusement and he then says and goes on, “Just listen to me. Will you listen to me?”

You stop your pacing and just choose to glare at him instead.

“Alice had a vision. You decided not to listen to me and you went by yourself. You found yourself in great danger.” he says and shakes his head as he remembers.

“A vision? What, she can see into the future?” you ask, your voice quivering a bit.

“Something of that sort. You can change your mind and the vision will change. Your future will change.” he explains and he takes a step forward to you, “I can be there to protect you.”

You start pacing again.

“It’s not fair.” you state.

His eyebrows furrow together, “What?”

“It’s not fair how…I can’t seem to get rid of you!” you say.

He does nothing but fill the air with a chuckle. Your mind goes to when Alice was talking with Edward at Bella’a school earlier.

“Paul will have a fit.” you quietly say as you look out the window.

“Paul having a fit will sure hold you back from many opportunities, Y/N.”

You whip around to face him, “You don’t know him! You don’t know us.” you say.

He shakes his head slightly, “That day in the restaurant. I saw in his head what he did at the art gallery. He lets his feelings get the best of him. It’s only going to hold you back in the long run.”

“He’s improving. I already talked to him.” you say and turn your back to him.

“You will see.” he says in a calm tone.

“Why would I listen to anything you say? You don’t like Paul by default.” you say.

“Don’t you love what you do? Why wouldn’t you want to utilize your talents to your fullest capacity? Being bound to here…To La Push…” he says.

“I care about him enough that I’m willing to stay here with him.”

“Then why are you going to New York?” he questions in a tone that had bass in it.

You stare at him.

“Once you step foot in that city, your life changes. You would thrive there. You wouldn’t want to come back.” he says, so sure of himself.

“Impossible.” you say.

“You will see.” he states again.

“Are we done?” you snap at him.

“Almost.” he says with a hand up.

You look out of the window. The trees started to wave a bit under the moon light. The view was nice. You kept your eyes focused on it.

“You don’t have to shut us out, Y/N. I and especially my family, are on your side.”

“It doesn’t feel like it, Edward. My intentions were only to be friendly to Bella. It’s bad enough I went against Paul’s wishes and kept being friends with her. I’m a human. Our worlds don’t collide at all. I’m honestly surprised Bella is in as deep as she is.” You rant out, you never took your eyes off of the view in the window.

“You’re right. Our worlds don’t collide, which is why my family and I are leaving.” he says in a soft tone. You slowly turn to look at him and his golden eyes are stuck onto yours.

“I know the danger I am to Bella. Alice has seen her become one of us and I don’t want that for her. Her scent is just too enticing, it’s the thing that’s pulling me to her. It’s like heroin.” he says as he shakes his head, the tone having a dose of shame.

“So why keep me around? Why can’t you have that same respect?” you ask in a quiet tone, your voice wouldn’t allow you to be louder.

“You don’t even know how preeminent you are.” he says with a small smile.

“What does that even mean?” you say narrowing your eyes.

“It means…You’re like morphine.” he states with a steady gaze.

He then shrugs a bit and stands next to you by the window.

“My departure is known and expected to Bella. The ticket is for her to go back to her mother after graduation.” he just says.

“Last party before you head out.” you state out loud, piecing it together.

He nods, making sure that what you said was true.

“Aren’t you two in love?” you question.

Softly chuckling, “Everything about me is supposed to pull a human in. Her in. I’m an addictive. Her blood pulling me in, is an addictive. Addiction isn’t love, unfortunately.” he then glanced to you.

Just then, he moves away from the window and tells you, “They’re back. Show me where to drop you off.”

Holding the car door before closing it, you look at him in the driver seat.

“I should cancel my trip.” you tell him.

He shakes his head with a smirk, “You won’t.”

You look at him for a moment before muttering out a ‘thanks for the ride’ and close the door.

You knew your way, the drop off was right before the Welcome to La Push sign.

The walk let you think. Letting go of Paul was not going to happen. You two have been through so much together. Outside opinions were really testing the power of you two.

You knocked on the old man’s door. He yelled that it was open. He looked happy to see you.

“Hurry, hurry I want all of the details.” he says as you hastily climb the stairs to the bathroom.

You scrubbed hard and sat in the fresh clothes that you had brought over earlier.

You sat there and explained what you saw, the conversations and the painting you saw with the three other men with their names. You guessed to be people who were higher up if they were still alive to this day. The painting spoke out to you. The power that they held moved you. You told him Alice’s ability to see one’s future based on the decisions they make. He wrote it all down with precision. You just left out two things.

You didn’t know how true Edward’s word was so you didn’t tell Old Quil that the Cullens were thinking about leaving. You didn’t tell him that Edward wanted to go with you. You were going to find a way for him not to.

“I should let you go. Paul kept coming here every hour to see if you were back.” he says with a laugh.

“Is he alright?” you asked.

“Just very antsy.” he says.

Giving him a farewell hug, you make your way home. Paul was standing outside when you got there.

“Why didn’t you call me? I could’ve picked you up.” he says moving forward to you.

“I’m happy to see you too.” you tell him with a smile.

Your face is crushed on his, you feel yourself being lifted.

Your face is crumbled as your entire body shivered. Every inch of your body was licked and kissed. Your body submitted to him. His thrusts felt like love bullets as they shot through you.

That’s when he said it. You wouldn’t forget it.

You were shaking as you lay upon him. You were catching your breath but he was calm. He rubbed your back as you were skin to skin with him. The sun was starting to rise. The faint leaks of early sunrays bleeding through the curtains that were hanging on the windows.

“I love you.”

It was said quietly. It was barely above a rasp. You couldn’t speak. So, you didn’t. You didn’t want to say it back just to say it back. You lift your tired head and planted a kiss on his lips. He drunk you in like he was a drunk tasting alcohol. Getting his last fix.

[piastrixpole]

chapter seven

pairing: oscar piastri x carlos sainz

genre: written, love island au

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The morning after the recoupling Oscar found himself feeling significantly more chipper. Not even the harsh artificial lighting waking him up could kill his mood. Logan was still nestled under the covers beside him, peaceful and warm. A smile tugged at his lips. Gently, he leaned over and pressed a light kiss to her forehead, savouring the small moment before reluctantly easing himself out of bed.

As he padded through the villa and up to the kitchen, Oscar couldn’t deny the relief and reassurance that last night had brought. Logan choosing him at the firepit had settled something deep inside him, quieting the small, lingering doubts he’d carried since the start. But it wasn’t just that—Carlos being humbled a little the previous night added an extra bit of satisfaction. A perfect blend, really, he mused as he opened a cupboard, grabbing two mugs for coffee.

Setting the coffee machine to brew, he leaned back against the counter, running a hand through his hair as he replayed the events of the past week. Just a few days ago, he’d felt unsure about all of it—Logan, his feelings, and even being in this villa at all. Now, he could almost laugh at himself. It wasn’t perfect, but he was glad he’d let himself get swept up in it all.

The smell of fresh coffee filled the kitchen and just as Oscar was reaching for the sugar, he heard footsteps behind him and glanced over his shoulder. Carlos stood there, arms crossed casually, an unreadable look on his face.

“Morning, hermoso,” Carlos greeted, his voice low and smooth, a hint of mischief slipping through.

Oscar felt his pulse quicken at the pet name, though he tried to keep his expression steady. “Morning. Didn’t think you’d be up so early.”

Carlos shrugged, his gaze lingering on the coffee machine. “Couldn’t sleep much. It’s quieter than usual around here this morning, don’t you think?” He glanced at the two mugs Oscar had prepared. “Coffee for two?”

“Yeah,” Oscar replied, a bit wary but doing his best to keep it casual. “Logan’s.”

Carlos nodded, looking away briefly as if choosing his words. “She’s lucky,” he said finally, eyes meeting Oscar’s with a flicker of something more serious beneath his usual bravado. “You know, if things had gone differently, I might’ve been in her place.”

Oscar felt a jolt of something he couldn’t quite name, and he tried to deflect with humor. “You’re just jealous you didn’t get my first morning coffee,” he teased, forcing a grin as he poured another cup.

Carlos chuckled, but his eyes didn’t leave Oscar’s face. “Maybe. Or maybe I was hoping for more than coffee.” His tone was light, but his gaze was sharp, assessing. He leaned forward, just a little, enough that Oscar could feel his warmth in the morning coolness.

Oscar cleared his throat, feeling his cheeks heat up against his will. “Well, maybe next time you’ll have better luck,” he replied, the words coming out a little softer than he intended.

Carlos raised an eyebrow, that familiar playful smirk dancing on his lips. “I’ll hold you to that, guapo,” he murmured before straightening up, his smile slipping into something almost genuine for a second. “Enjoy your morning with her.”

With a final glance, he turned and walked away, leaving Oscar alone with his coffee and the unmistakable flutter of excitement he was trying very hard to ignore.

Brushing that brief but sexually charged interaction aside, Oscar returned back to the communal bedroom holding the two steaming mugs only to discover that Logan was out of bed. Alex took one look at him from where he was still sprawled out in bed lazily and teased him with a “whipped”.

Oscar rolled his eyes, though he couldn't hold back the smirk. "Oh, shut it, Alex," he muttered, setting down the two mugs on a side table and glancing around.

"Just saying," Alex added, stifling a yawn and stretching his arms. "I've never seen you this on top of things in the morning. Guess Logan's got you all organised."

"Organised?" Oscar scoffed, though he knew exactly what Alex meant. The fact that he’d woken up chipper, brewed coffee for two, and was now actively looking for Logan rather than going back to bed was not lost on him.

“Whipped and proud, I see.” Alex grinned, propping himself up on one elbow. He pointed toward the door with a lazy wave. "She’s upstairs. I think you’re safe if you want to make this whole 'good morning' thing even more official."

Oscar smirked, feeling a mix of nerves and excitement at the thought. “Don’t wait up, mate,” he called over his shoulder, earning a mock salute from Alex as he headed back toward the stairs.

Climbing up, he found Logan by the balcony, her hair loose, pulling a light sweater over her shoulders. She turned when she heard him approach, a soft smile lighting her face when she spotted the mugs in his hands.

“Good morning,” she said, a little shyly, but her gaze softened when he offered her the coffee.

“Morning,” he replied, a smile tugging at his lips as she took the mug from him, fingers brushing for a brief second. "Thought I’d bring you something warm to kick off the day."

She took a sip, a pleased sigh escaping her. “Ah, perfect. Thanks, Oscar.”

They exchanged a lingering look, the villa still and quiet in the early light. They didn’t need to say much, and he was more than happy to simply stand beside her, soaking up the calm.

"So," Logan said softly, glancing at him over her cup, her eyes alight with a subtle warmth, "last night was...something."

Oscar nodded, his heartbeat quickening. “Yeah, something,” he echoed, both of them smiling like they shared a secret. And in a way, they did. Except the entire villa had already heard about it and the kiss itself had been broadcasted on national television. 

"It's all the girls were talking about this morning in the dressing room," Logan confessed "I think you surprised everyone."

He raised an eyebrow at that. "Oh yeah? Surprised them how?"

Logan rolled her eyes, nudging him with her shoulder. "Please. that whole scene on the balcony last night, everyone in the villa saw it. They're all convinced you’ve gone soft on me."

A chuckle slipped out of him, though he felt his cheeks warm under her gaze. "What can I say? Maybe you bring out the best in me."

She smiled, a little shyly, eyes dropping to her coffee. "Guess I wouldn’t mind that."

Oscar swallowed, heart beating a little faster. "So... what exactly were the girls saying?" he asked, trying to keep his voice casual. "Not that I’m worried or anything."

"Just that you’re basically whipped," she teased, glancing at him. "And that we make a cute pair."

His face broke into a grin. "Whipped, huh? They're not the only ones to say it but think I can live with that."

They stood in silence for a beat, the morning sun casting a warm glow over the terrace, softening everything around them. Logan looked back up at him, her gaze warm and unwavering, and Oscar felt an unspoken pull between them. He set his coffee down on the ledge, stepping just a fraction closer, testing the waters.

Logan tilted her head up, eyes fixed on his, her hand reaching out to touch his arm. Before he knew it, he was leaning in, closing the gap, their breaths mingling for a split second before his lips met hers.

The villa, the morning, the teasing—all of it faded away as they sank into the kiss, gentle and tentative at first, then deepening as she pulled him in closer. And somewhere down below, the faint sound of a cheer and a wolf-whistle drifted up, breaking them apart with laughter.

"Guess we’ve got an audience," he murmured, not that he minded. He’d waited long enough for this, and now that it was real, he didn’t care who was watching.

"Let them watch," Logan whispered, her eyes bright with a confidence that matched his own. Her fingers brushed along the back of his neck, steady and sure.

Oscar felt a swell of something he hadn’t expected. He’d spent so much time keeping his guard up, always striving for that cool indifference, the way he could breeze through most things in life without breaking stride or feeling vulnerable. Being here, genuinely leaning into something instead of holding back—he wished he’d let himself do it sooner.

He glanced over at Logan, still close, eyes shining with that playful spark he’d come to recognize. For so long, he’d been telling himself that caring less was the key to never getting hurt, keeping people at arm’s length and hiding his feelings behind a laugh or sarcastic comment. But he was starting to realize that all that indifference had only held him back. The easy connection, the shared laughter, the thrill of being all in—this was infinitely better. Maybe he’d been trying to protect himself from embarrassment, or maybe it was a fear of getting too attached, but now he couldn’t shake the feeling that all that caution had robbed him of exactly this.

Not that there hadn’t been... moments. His mind drifted, unbidden, to Carlos. It was frustrating, in a way. Out of everyone here, Carlos had been the only one who’d ever gotten under his skin like that, the only other person to really make him feel something—though it wasn’t anything he could even label, at least not comfortably. His stomach twisted whenever he remembered their little back and forths, that ridiculous tension neither of them would acknowledge but always felt. It was like Carlos was wired to get on his nerves, to rile him up in ways he’d never let anyone else do. Not that it meant anything. It was just Carlos. And he wasn’t… he wasn’t gay, obviously.

Logan nudged him with a smile, breaking him out of his thoughts, and he found himself grinning back. For once, he felt truly present, not weighed down by what people thought or how he’d look. He’d finally let himself care, let himself feel invested in someone. And it was worth it—more than worth it.

The afternoon sun cast long shadows over the villa, all was calm, even a bit lazy—until a set of footsteps echoed from the entrance, drawing everyone’s attention. Turning toward the sound, they saw Fernando Alonso stride in, his usual smirk firmly in place. In all his glory, he looked almost too proud of himself, and every islander could tell he had a scheme up his sleeve.

“Good afternoon, lovebirds,” he greeted, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “Hope you’re all ready for some… bonding time.”

At his cue the production team scrambled to assemble a challenge set beside the pool that they had clearly been hiding until his arrival. A giant scoreboard was now displayed at his side with each of their names written in a table format. The islanders gathered around, already buzzing with a mix of anticipation and nervous laughter. Oscar had no idea what sort of challenge lay ahead of them that warranted such a set-up but he was mildly intrigued. The nerdy part of him would have loved it to be something like a quiz but that was far too vanilla and boring for a show like this. Every challenge was designed with the specific intent of invoking drama.

“Alright, listen up!” Fernando called out, gathering everyone’s attention. “The name of the game is simple. Each of you will be blindfolded, wearing noise cancelling headphones and will stand in a line. When it’s your turn, you’ll remove your blindfold, go down the line, and give each islander a kiss. Afterward, each of you rates the kiss from 1 to 10, and we’ll crown one of you as the villa’s ‘Best Kisser.’ Sound easy enough?”

The group let out an amused groan, realizing the twist of the challenge. Oscar caught Logan’s eye and gave her a small smirk. Beside him, Francisca wore an eager grin, clearly enthusiastic about the theatrics while Carlos looked calm and confident as ever further down the group. 

Once the islanders were all settled in a row, each sporting both blindfolds and noise-cancelling headphones, it was just a waiting game.

“Alright, Lily, you’re up first,” Fernando announced to the production team with a mischievous grin and a tap on her shoulders to catch her attention as she too was blindfolded and had the headphones on up until that point so there was no bias. "No holding back, and remember—a perfect score is up for grabs.”

Oscar, stood somewhere near the middle of the line, felt a slight shiver of anticipation as he waited in silence, unable to hear a thing beyond the muffled beat of his own heart and the thumping baseline of the music playing. His other senses heightened, every subtle breeze and every stray touch became a point of focus as he awaited…whatever was coming. Whoever was coming

He couldn’t hear the islander's footsteps obviously, so when they suddenly appeared in front of him, the only sign of their presence was their gentle hand brushing his jaw. Their touch was delicate but sure as they tilted his chin up, and then their lips pressed softly against his. It was a sweet, quick kiss—soft, lingering just enough to make him take a sharp breath.

And then they was gone, their warmth replaced by the cool air as they moved on down the line. Even though he couldn’t see or hear a thing, Oscar found himself grinning slightly beneath the blindfold. The game had only just started, and he already felt the thrill of its effect rippling through him. There was no denying it—this challenge was about to get interesting.

After what felt like an eternity, Oscar noticed the music suddenly cut out in his headphones—a signal from production that the islander had finished their round. He removed the headphones so he could hear when prompted to give his rating but kept his blindfold firmly in place, just as instructed. Around him, he could sense the faint shifting of the other islanders, each of them waiting for the next part of the game.

"Alright, amigos," Fernando’s voice rang out with amusement. “Time for the ratings. Remember, keep it anonymous—just say your score out loud from 1 to 10.”

Oscar took a moment to think back to the kiss, surprised by how his mind lingered on the softness of it, the care they’d put into each gesture. It was different from what he’d expected—gentler, more thoughtful. When Fernando called his name, Oscar cleared his throat.

A pause settled over the group as Fernando started calling out the islanders one by one.

“George?” Fernando prompted.

A bit of shuffling before George’s voice chimed in, “Six.”

“Carmen?”

“Nine,” she responded, giggling a little.

“Oscar?"

When it was Oscar’s turn, he hesitated, replaying the kiss in his mind. There had been a gentle pressure to it, a softness that had caught him off guard. "Six,” he said as neutrally as possible, wondering how the others would rate them. 

One by one, Fernando continued down the line. “Charlotte?”

“Eight.”

“Carlos?”

“Seven, definitely,” Carlos answered, with a faint chuckle.

“Logan?”

“Six.”

Fernando moved to the next islander, keeping his pace casual and adding his own commentary now and then. Oscar could almost picture him taking his sweet time with each score, watching every reaction.

“Alright, Maxine?”

“Eight,” she said, the laughter in her voice evident.

So, by process of elimination that meant the mystery kisser was Lily. Someone he probably wouldn't have guessed if he'd been asked.

Finally, once every score had been tallied, Fernando spoke up with a teasing lilt in his voice, “I’ll write that down. Now onto the next one."

At Fernando's instruction the headphones went back on. The music blared back into Oscar’s ears, muffling everything else around him. He stood still, waiting for the inevitable. When the kiss came, it was different. It was slower than Lily’s, more deliberate. He felt their lips press against his with an almost teasing hesitation, as if to gauge his reaction. Oscar, trying to stay cool, couldn’t help but feel a little tension coil in his stomach. They were a good kisser, there was no doubt about that. His lips lingered just a second longer than needed, pulling away with an audible sigh.

The music cut out once again, signalling that it was over. Oscar took a deep breath, his heart pounding a little harder now, as he slowly removed the headphones.

“Alright, time to rate! Same rules as before,” Fernando said, prompting each islander one by one to give their feedback. Oscar could hear shuffling as everyone got into position.

"Daniel," Fernando initiated "thoughts?"

"Five."

"Alex?" 

"Seven."

"Charlotte...how about you?"

"Nine, definitely."

"Oscar?"

Hesitating momentarily Oscar replied with a "seven."

He wasn't entirely sure if he was giving it a fair rating, but he couldn’t deny that it had left an impression.

Fernando took down the score before continuing with the rest of the group, his voice smooth and matter-of-fact as he asked everyone for their rating. As Oscar processed the challenge, he couldn’t help but wonder how everyone was feeling about the kisses, and who would come out on top when this was all over.

The music resumes on the noise-cancelling headphones, filling his ears with the thumping beat of the track. It’s odd, how quiet everything else seems. His mind wanders briefly—Logan’s lips. He’d kissed them multiple times in the last day, and there’s something about the way she presses them against his that he knows instinctively.

Then, before he can dwell on it too long, he feels a presence before him, followed by the soft brush of lips on his. He doesn't pull away immediately, just lets himself feel the kiss. It's sweet, warm, and familiar. A flutter runs through his chest as he wonders if he’s right, if this is the one kiss he’s been waiting for.

The kiss is brief but deep, a lingering pressure that sends a little thrill down his spine. When it pulls away, his heart beats just a little faster. He doesn’t need his eyes to tell him that kiss was Logan's.

His mind runs through the memory of her lips, the way she had kissed him on the terrace, that last electric touch of her skin against his. He smiles to himself despite the blindfold, wishing he could just reach out and find her there, but he knows better. They’re all being watched.

As Fernando prompts the islanders to start rating, Oscar shakes his head, trying to ignore the butterflies and the soft warmth of Logan’s kiss still lingering on his lips. But as he sits there, he can’t help but feel a mixture of satisfaction and something else—hope, maybe. Whatever this is, it feels real, and in the back of his mind, he wonders if she felt it too.

To ease his own admittedly jealous mind Oscar filters out the voices of the other islanders. While its unconfirmed that the kiss was from Logan, Oscar would put a large amount of money on it being her. And he really doesn't want to hear just how much the others enjoyed kissing her.

"Alright, Oscar, how would you rate the kiss you've just received?"

Oscar smiles to himself, trying to keep his thoughts from wandering. “Definitely a solid nine,” he answers, his voice steady, though his heart is racing.

If Logan asked him later why he didn't give her a ten...well it would give him the perfect opportunity to claim they needed to test it more.

He knew their connection had already been electric, but every time their lips met, there was a little more to discover, a little more depth to explore. Maybe a perfect ten would come later, after a few more stolen moments—after they really figured out what the other’s kiss could be. And he had no doubt that would be a fun journey.

Oscar’s next few kisses blurred together, a jumble of sensations that didn’t quite stand out. The blindfold made it difficult to focus, and though each kiss was fine, they didn’t evoke any real spark. He found himself going through the motions, giving a polite smile as he rated each one. Nothing felt extraordinary, nothing left him breathless. They were just... fine.

The kiss from whoever came after Logan barely lingered in his mind. He gave it a solid score because, well, it was a kiss, but it didn’t feel anything like the connection he’d shared with Logan. And then, the one after that. The kiss was gentle, but it didn't carry the weight of any particular emotion. Oscar rated it quickly, feeling a bit detached from the moment, like his body was on autopilot.

He was still trying to recalibrate himself after Logan’s kiss, his mind a little distracted by the way her lips felt. The rest just seemed unremarkable in comparison.

Maybe it was the blindfold. Maybe it was the anticipation that made each kiss lose some of its potential impact. But as each pair kissed and he rated them, Oscar couldn’t help but wish that every kiss could be as meaningful as the ones he shared with Logan.

Oscar felt a hand tap his shoulder when waiting the next time, and when he removed his blindfold and headphones he found Fernando standing behind him, a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“Alright, Oscar, your turn. Ready to show the villa your kissing skills?” Fernando teased, a twinkle in his eye.

Oscar grinned, though there was a slight flutter in his chest. His heart beat just a bit faster at the thought of what was coming, but he quickly masked it with a casual chuckle.  Mentally bracing himself Oscar walked over to the front of the line where Daniel stood blindfolded and bopping his head away to the music, completely unaware of what was going on. 

Oscar could feel the heat of the afternoon sun on his skin and the slight hum of anticipation in the air as he hyped himself up internally. He wasn’t quite sure how this would go—would it be awkward? Fun? There was something almost thrilling about not knowing, about feeling completely disoriented.

He reached out tentatively, finding Daniel’s shoulder, giving him a light tap to signal he was ready. Daniel’s head snapped in his direction, and for a moment, Oscar felt the flicker of hesitation, but he pushed it aside.

Oscar leaned in, lips brushing gently against Daniel’s. The kiss was quick, soft, and polite—nothing too over-the-top or unexpected. A standard kiss, really. The kind you’d give a friend, a brief and harmless brush of lips that didn’t stir anything deep. Daniel gave a little chuckle against his lips, clearly amused by the whole thing.

When the kiss broke, Oscar pulled back with a slight grin. That was easy. Too easy, in fact. There was no spark, no charge. But it was fine, and that was all he needed it to be.

Oscar moved swiftly down the line, the brief kiss with Daniel already fading from his mind. He stopped in front of Maxine, feeling a slight shift in the air. She had this playful energy about her that made him feel a little more awake, more present.

He reached forward, tapping her shoulder lightly, and she turned, her movements smooth as she adjusted to the cue. Oscar didn’t know what to expect from Maxine—she was a wildcard, always full of surprises, and he couldn’t help but feel a flicker of curiosity.

The kiss itself was quick, but the energy behind it was different. There was a playful intensity in it, a tease rather than something sweet or awkward. It wasn’t deep, but it wasn’t forgettable either. Maxine’s lips were soft, but her presence—her sense of humour, her confidence—came through more than anything else. As the kiss ended, Oscar felt a strange pulse of adrenaline, as if he’d just been jolted awake from a fog.

Pulling away, he took a quick breath. That was...interesting. Not bad, but definitely not forgettable.

 Moving on to Carmen and shaking off the subtle buzz still lingering from his previous kiss with Maxine. Carmen was a wild card—Oscar wasn’t sure what to expect, but he wasn’t sure he was ready for another kiss that could throw him off his game.

He lightly tapped her on the shoulder, signalling he was ready. Carmen shifted closer, her lips barely brushing his ear as she settled in front of him. Oscar caught the faintest hint of her perfume as she leaned in, and for a moment, there was nothing but the rush of the music in his ears and the soft pulse of his heart.

The kiss came quick. There was nothing bold or lingering about it—just a fleeting press of her lips on his. It was a brief, almost clinical touch, like she was going through the motions more than actually feeling anything. He didn’t feel much, other than the coolness of her lip gloss and a soft breath that brushed across his face. It wasn’t bad, but it wasn’t memorable either.

She pulled away almost as quickly as she’d moved in, her hands still hovering in the air, waiting for the next step. Oscar’s chest relaxed slightly, but the kiss had left him with more of a confused feeling than anything else. It was almost like she wasn’t fully present in the moment, or maybe he wasn’t.

As he moved on to the next islander, he tried not to linger on the kiss. It wasn’t bad, but it didn’t leave much of an impression, either. That was just the way the game went sometimes, he guessed.

Oscar moved down the line, his heart skipping a beat as he stood before Alex. He had to admit, there was a charge between them that was undeniable, something that had been there ever since they kissed in the dares game at the very beginning, even if it had stayed in the background for the most part. Alex was the kind of guy who carried a quiet but assured confidence—one that wasn’t loud but definitely present—and Oscar couldn’t help but feel that undeniable pull as he stood before him.

The music in his ears was a distant hum as Oscar focused on the moment. He could feel the heat radiating off Alex’s body, the tension hanging in the air as the seconds ticked by. When Alex shifted just slightly, Oscar felt his breath catch. There was something magnetic about being this close to him.

Without hesitation, Alex’s lips met his, and Oscar’s breath hitched in his throat as the kiss turned electric. It was full of fire, no hesitation—just the boldness of two people who didn’t need to say anything to know exactly what the other was feeling. The kiss was deep, intense, and charged with something that left Oscar’s head spinning, his pulse racing.

Oscar’s hand involuntarily moved to Alex’s chest, a slight pressure as he let the kiss play out. It was the kind of kiss that left a mark, even if it was just a few seconds. He could feel the warmth of Alex’s lips, the slight brush of his hands around Oscar’s neck as they both leaned in, a silent agreement that this was different. This was more.

When the kiss ended, Oscar pulled away with a slight breath, his heart still racing. He hadn’t even realized how badly he’d been holding his breath, but now that the kiss was over, it felt like the world had shifted slightly.

As he moved on to the next person, he couldn’t help but feel a thrill lingering in the air. That kiss… it had been something else. And he was pretty sure the ratings were going to reflect that.

Oscar moved on, still a bit rattled from his kiss with Alex. He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself as he approached George, who was standing with his blindfold still in place. 

When Oscar leaned in, he was greeted by the unfamiliar warmth of George’s lips, but this kiss was entirely different from the electric tension of the previous one. It was soft, more gentle, with a teasing edge to it—like two friends sharing a light-hearted moment, but still carrying a hint of chemistry. George’s lips moved against his with an easy familiarity, and Oscar felt the contrast between this kiss and the previous one. There was nothing rushed or urgent here—just a quiet, easy connection.

It wasn’t bad, by any means—it just didn’t have the intensity of the last kiss. George’s kiss was comfortable, almost like a fleeting moment between two people who were still figuring things out. It had the potential for something more, but at this moment, it felt like a quick and casual brush, neither amazing nor awkward.

Oscar pulled away, giving a small nod to George before moving on to the next in line. He could already feel himself mentally rating the kiss—not bad, but nothing that would leave him breathless, either.

Oscar took a step forward, mentally bracing himself for Charlotte’s turn. He had a bit of a laugh internally, realizing he might be getting used to this strange challenge.  She was someone he hadn’t really had a one-on-one moment with yet, and while their interactions had been friendly, there wasn’t the same sense of familiarity as with some of the others.

He approached her, trying to ignore the flutter in his chest as his heart rate quickened. Charlotte was a wildcard in this game; he couldn’t predict how her kiss would feel, what it might tell him about their dynamic.

When Oscar leaned in and felt her lips meet his, he was immediately struck by the possessive quality of her touch. But there was a warmth, a lightness to it—almost like she was holding back, keeping things playful and fun but the passion still crept through. Her lips moved slowly, giving him the sense that she wasn’t rushing into it, maybe trying to gauge his response as much as he was gauging hers. It was a kiss that wasn’t full of fireworks, but it was definitely intriguing.

Oscar pulled back to move on to the next person. He couldn’t help but feel like Charlotte had taken this challenge seriously but was maybe holding back just a bit. It was far from bad, but he wasn’t left with that lingering sense of excitement either. Still, he appreciated how her kiss had a bit of mystery to it. It made him wonder where it might lead if they spent more time together.

Upon noticing that Francisca was next in line, Oscar knew instinctively, that this was going to be a very different experience. There was something electric about her presence—her confidence, her fiery personality. She was bold, and that was something Oscar couldn’t help but be drawn to.

As he stepped toward her, he felt an undeniable tension in the air, like there was a magnetic pull between them. The blindfold, the music, and the uncertainty only added to the charge. Oscar was already bracing for something that would knock him off balance.

When Francisca’s lips met his, it was instantly clear that she was all in. The kiss was intense, urgent, like she had something to prove—or maybe like she just wanted to feel everything in that moment. Her lips were hot, and she kissed with a hunger that immediately made Oscar feel a heat in his chest. She pressed into him, guiding the kiss deeper, more demanding, more wild. It wasn’t like the others—there was no hesitance, no softness. It was a kiss that felt like she was taking control, pulling him into her orbit.

Oscar couldn’t help but get lost in the kiss for a moment, the world spinning around them as his head buzzed. Francisca’s energy was undeniably intoxicating, and for a moment, he forgot about everything else—the challenge, the cameras, even his own thoughts. It was just them.

As the kiss ended and Francisca pulled back, Oscar was a little breathless. He quickly re-adjusted his stance, trying to shake off the dizziness in his head. That had been a kiss that would stick with him—there was no doubt about that.

In the back of his mind, he couldn’t help but think about how powerful that kiss had been. Francisca wasn’t just bold—she was captivating. And Oscar was sure she knew it.

Taking his place in front of Pierre, he reminded himself to stay composed. It was just a kiss, after all.

Pierre was standing there with his usual relaxed demeanour, swaying gently to the music as if completely unaffected by the game. Oscar couldn’t help but notice how different the energy was this time. Where Francisca had been intense and full of fire, Pierre was cool and easy-going. The contrast was almost humorous as Oscar steadied himself and leaned in, not quite sure what to expect.

When their lips met, it was... fine. Just fine. The kiss was pleasant, but it didn’t have the same spark as the others. Pierre’s lips were soft, but there was no real passion behind it—nothing that made Oscar’s heart race or his mind go fuzzy. It was more like an obligatory peck than anything else, and Oscar was relieved to feel the kiss break almost as quickly as it started.

Oscar pulled back, his fingers brushing against his lips as he moved on to the next person. He couldn’t help but think that some kisses were just... forgettable. This one was definitely in that category.

He gave a brief smile to Pierre, trying not to let his disappointment show. He had no idea if the others would rate it highly, but he already knew in his mind that it was just a solid, run-of-the-mill kiss. Nothing to write home about.

It was clear: some people just didn’t have that spark, and Pierre, for all his charm, didn’t have it with Oscar in that moment. Still, it's not like he hadn't had numerous good kisses so far. 

His luck was about to change though as he now stood before Logan. This was Logan—the girl who had chosen him at the recoupling, the girl he'd kissed just the night before, multiple times earlier that morning and now, in this peculiar game, he was about to kiss her again. But this time, there was something more to it, an awareness between them, a new layer to their connection that had only deepened in the past 24 hours.

He took a deep breath, mentally bracing himself as he leaned forward, his lips moving toward hers. He already knew what to expect. As soon as their lips met, he felt that spark again—the same undeniable chemistry he'd sensed from the moment they’d first kissed. Her lips were warm, soft, and responsive, fitting perfectly against his like they had been made for this. It felt natural, easy, and yet, as their kiss lingered for a moment longer than it probably should have, there was an undeniable intensity, a shared heat between them that neither could deny.

Oscar was momentarily caught off guard by the strength of the kiss. It was like everything else faded away, the noise of the challenge, the cameras, and the other islanders. It was just him and Logan, in that moment, sharing something real.

He pulled back slowly, his fingers brushing over his lips in a daze. He kept his blindfold on, but his mind was racing. The kiss had been better than he'd anticipated, and now he couldn’t help but think, Of course, it would be better with Logan.

Oscar tried to compose himself as he took his place back in line, but the buzz from the kiss lingered. He had kissed a lot of people today, but there was something different about this one. Something deeper, more connected.

Yeah, this one’s a ten, he thought, though he’d play it cool for now.

Things had been going far too smoothly for him though. Because as Oscar was replaying the kiss with Logan in his mind, trying to come down from the buzz, he noticed that Carlos was beside her and next in line.

Oscar had been steeling himself for this moment since Fernando explained the challenge but somehow, as it arrived, he felt completely unprepared. Carlos was the last person he wanted to kiss right now, but also... maybe the one he was most curious about. Their banter and lingering glances had built up a tension between them that he couldn’t quite ignore, no matter how much he tried. Now, that tension was about to reach its breaking point.

The world shrunk to just the sound of his heartbeat as Carlos also leaned in, closing the final inches of distance between them. The kiss started slowly, Carlos’s lips brushing against his, testing, as if taunting him to see if Oscar would flinch. Oscar felt a jolt—somewhere between surprise and undeniable intrigue. And as Carlos deepened the kiss, Oscar felt an unexpected spark flare between them. It was intense, unexpected, and had an edge to it that wasn’t there with anyone else.

The moment felt charged, electric in a way Oscar hadn’t anticipated. Carlos wasn’t just kissing him to play the game; there was something in his touch, the way he angled in, that seemed… intentional. Like he wanted Oscar to know he was in control of the moment, that he was the one calling the shots even though Oscar was technically the one supposed to be leading. Oscar felt his pulse quicken, completely disarmed.

When Carlos finally pulled back, Oscar was left reeling, heart pounding. What the hell was that? He thought he’d be relieved it was over, but instead, he found himself standing there, rooted to the spot, trying to process the rush of emotions swirling through him. Carlos had kissed him like it was something more, something real.

The unspoken tension between them now magnified tenfold. Was it just part of the game? he wondered. But even he didn’t believe that, not after a kiss like that. The drama of it all settled heavily on him.

Taking a steadying breath, Oscar moved down the line to where Lily was standing, her blindfold in place, waiting. He’d had a whirlwind of kisses so far—some sweet, some electric, some completely unexpected—but Lily was someone he felt a relaxed friendship with, no complications. This kiss would be simple, he told himself, a nice, easy way to finish up his turn.

He gently leaned in, placing a soft kiss on her lips, light and brief, as though keeping it deliberately toned down to avoid giving her any awkward impression. Lily responded with a soft smile, one that he could feel even through the quickness of the kiss, and Oscar sensed the playfulness in it, their shared understanding of it all being a bit of fun.

It was a relief, really—a friendly and warm way to wrap up a gauntlet of kisses that had left him unexpectedly flustered. When he pulled back, he exhaled a quiet breath of gratitude, grateful to be out of the spotlight, but a little uncertain about what he’d just gone through.

As Oscar slipped back into line, he folded his arms, hoping the blush creeping up his neck wasn't visible. Fernando's voice cut through the chatter, “Alright, islanders, time to rate that performance. One by one, give them your scores.”

Oscar stared ahead, trying to focus on anything but the task at hand. The last thing he wanted was to hear each islander dissecting his kissing ability. His gaze drifted to a far-off point in the villa, mentally counting palm trees and tracing patterns in the stones to keep himself from dwelling on their reactions.

Standing in line again with the blindfold back on, ears cushioned by the noise-cancelling headphones, leaving him alone with his thoughts. After his turn, the adrenaline was slowly giving way to a nervous edge. All he could hear now was the low, thrumming beat from his own pulse.

He could feel other islanders moving around him, likely exchanging kisses and gauging each other’s reactions in ways he could only imagine. Thoughts of the earlier reactions to his kiss ratings nagged at him. Why had someone sounded that enthusiastic? And did he really want to know who’d thrown out that “Ten”?

A flicker of regret surfaced—this challenge had sounded fun in theory, but the reality felt a bit different. He’d tried to keep it light-hearted, but here he was overthinking every single reaction. Somewhere in the chaos, his mind drifted to Logan and that kiss. That one moment was the only grounding element of the entire ordeal, but it only made him more confused about what came next.

Oscar tried to push the anxious thoughts away, mentally bracing himself for the reveal and desperately hoping he’d survive it with at least some shred of his dignity intact.

The tension in Oscar’s shoulders melted as he heard Fernando's announcement over the noise-cancelling headphones: the challenge was finally over, and the results were in. He exhaled, feeling an unexpected rush of relief. For a moment, he’d genuinely feared being anywhere near the top of that leader board; he'd never live down the teasing.

Fernando's voice carried over the courtyard, playful and proud. "In third place, we have... Logan!" The villa erupted with cheers and whistles as Logan gave a humble wave, clearly pleased but keeping it cool. Oscar smiled to himself, feeling a slight pang of pride—and a flicker of relief that she’d kept things impressive yet under the radar.

"In second place, we have Carlos!" More cheers and whoops filled the air, along with a few knowing looks shared between the islanders. Oscar caught Carlos’s smug grin from across the pool area, clearly basking in his near-victory. Typical Carlos.

"And in first place—our villa’s official Best Kisser—Alex!" Fernando declared with enthusiasm, and the garden exploded with applause and playful jeers. Alex broke into a broad grin, playfully flexing as he accepted the unofficial title with ease. Oscar laughed and joined the clapping, feeling a strange mixture of pride and amusement.

He glanced around at his friends celebrating, a warm satisfaction settling in. In a villa that thrived on theatrics, a light-hearted ending was exactly what he needed.

“Yes, yes, well done to Alex, that was quite the performance,” Fernando declared, clapping along with the islanders. A knowing smirk tugged at the corners of his mouth as the cheers started to die down, and Oscar caught a glint of mischief in his eyes. Fernando continued, “But you all know there’s always a twist on Love Island.”

The chatter quieted instantly, and everyone leaned in, a ripple of nervous energy passing through the group. Oscar felt his stomach flip as he exchanged a glance with Logan, who raised an eyebrow in amused curiosity. Fernando allowed the suspense to build for a few beats, clearly relishing every second of the tension.

“Because…” Fernando drew out the word, scanning the line of islanders. “The best kisser isn’t just taking home bragging rights.” He paused, flashing a grin at Alex. “They’re also winning a private date tonight with the partner of their choosing—someone they’re not currently coupled up with!”

The villa buzzed with reactions—whispers, laughs, a few surprised exclamations. Oscar’s mind raced, caught somewhere between relief that he hadn’t won and curiosity over Alex’s choice. He couldn’t help but feel a prickling sense of anticipation as he watched Alex’s face, a mix of intrigue and mischief dancing in his eyes as he considered his options.

Fernando's smirk widened, and he raised his hand to quiet down the chattering islanders.

“Actually, I have to admit, I left out one… rather crucial part of the twist.” His eyes gleamed with anticipation. “You see, it’s not just the top kisser who will make an impact today.”

A silence fell over the villa, and the islanders exchanged nervous glances.

“Because,” he continued, “the islander with the lowest overall score… will be dumped from the villa effective immediately.”

Oscar’s stomach dropped as gasps and whispers erupted around him. The gravity of the announcement settled in, and suddenly, the playful challenge had taken on a menacing edge. All eyes darted to Fernando’s scoreboard as he tapped it lightly, underscoring the finality of what was about to happen.

“That’s right,” Fernando said, his tone no longer playful. “The islander who scored the lowest in the kiss ratings is about to say their goodbyes. So, without further ado…”

A hush fell over the group as Fernando's gaze finally landed on Daniel, whose name was written at the very bottom of the leader board—just one point shy of safety. Fernando's voice was calm but final.

“Daniel, I’m afraid you received the lowest score. You’ve been dumped from the villa, effective immediately.”

Daniel’s shoulders sagged as he absorbed the news, his expression shifting from disbelief to acceptance as he exhaled a long breath. The islanders around him muttered words of sympathy, and Maxine, his partner, wore a look of shock that quickly faded into a disappointed, reflective gaze.

Fernando’s voice softened, but it held its unwavering finality. “Daniel, your time here has come to an end. Please say your goodbyes.”

Maxine stood up, offering him a small, sad smile as she wrapped him in a hug. “It’s been good having you here, Danny,” she whispered. "I’ll miss you.”

One by one, the islanders gave Daniel a pat on the shoulder, a squeeze of the hand, or a quick embrace. Oscar offered a quick but genuine “Take care, man,” as Daniel made his way down the line. For most, there was a mix of relief and unease as they processed the twist, realizing how close they, too, could have come to leaving.

As he reached the exit, Daniel cast a glance back at the group. “You guys better keep it interesting,” he called with a wry smile. Then, with a final wave, he turned and disappeared through the villa doors.

The entire day had been a blur for Oscar, like living through multiple seasons of the villa in just a few hours. This morning had been so calm, lying beside Logan in bed, feeling her presence next to him like a quiet promise. He could hardly believe that only hours later, he'd found himself in the midst of a chaotic kiss-off—blindfolded and fumbling through a gauntlet of lip-locks, all for the sake of rankings and, apparently, survival. Then there'd been the twist, a dramatic end to the game that none of them had seen coming.

Daniel's departure had hit harder than Oscar expected, snapping him back to reality after a day of playful antics. Seeing Daniel pack up, the villa one person lighter, reminded him of the brutal nature of it all. And in the strangest way, it had brought his feelings into sharper focus. Yes, he was here for the experience and the thrill of it all, but it also made him appreciate what he had with Logan—the warmth, the moments that felt like they were just for the two of them. And seeing Daniel go was a stark reminder of how quickly it all could change.

The villa's usual sense of careless fun felt a little more fragile. He stole a look at Logan across the garden, and something in her returning gaze told him she felt it, too.

[cerulean-crow]

playing around with Rarity’s design this fine evening

[stunie]

i just WOKE UP !!?????!!!!!!

2024.07.15 — dinner date with Ume. ♡

(hands up if you know where the reference photo’s froooommmmm!!!! >:3 aju nice.)

[ebodebo]

Ghost Garage

—mechanic!simon riley fucking you in his car garage because you couldn’t afford to pay for his services:(( MDNI ofc

“You’re lookin’ at six thousand for a new engine,” Simon says thoughtfully, scribbling a collection of messy additions in his notebook. “And if you’re lookin’ to do just one set of brake pads and rotors,” he says, scribbling some more, “lookin’ at six hundred even for those.”

Your eyes widen at his words because how the fuck were you ever going to be able to afford this? You swallow hard, pondering your following words. “Do you do discounts or something?” You’re sure you sound like an idiot, but you’re desperate.

The corner of his lip quirks at your question as his eyes stay glued to the notebook paper, still scribbling. “No. Still no discounts ere’,” he says, capping his pen, finally looking at you.

You fidget with your hands, eyes on his. “I—um…there’s no way I can…” you begin, turning your gaze away from him, feeling bashful, “…afford that.” Even though you had come to Simon’s garage before, this was just the first time you outwardly told him you couldn’t afford his services.

He leans back in his chair, the base squeaking a little. “Do ya’know how dangerous it is to drive with worn-out brake pads?” he states, placing the pen in his mouth, awaiting your response.

“Yes. I’m aware, but—” you begin, only for him to interrupt.

“But nothin’,” he calmly says, shifty in the chair, eyes shamelessly dragging down your body. You pretend not to notice even though it invokes an immeasurable amount of wetness to gather in your panties.

He can tell you’re nervous—your body language says it all. Clammy hands you wipe off on your jeans every so often, you’re avoiding direct eye contact with him, and the fact he can hear your heartbeat from where he sits.

He shouldn’t even have unholy thoughts of you come across his mind. But, shocker, he did. Every night from the time you first went to the shop all of those four months ago, he would fist himself in the shower thinking about you.

You, who always had that doe-eyed, glossed-over expression. You, who always had to bring Simon a sweet treat when you came, whether it be candy or some fresh-baked cookies you prepared. Oh, and you, who would hug him after he did your car inspections. Ya, he thought about that one a lot.

He considers your predicament. He has a solution, but it’s risky—perhaps too risky?

Eh, Fuck it. What’s he got to lose?

“Tell ya what,” he starts, standing up from his chair and grabbing the notebook paper with the numbers. “I’ll throw this ere’ piece of paper in the trash—hell, I’ll burn it,” he cocks a brow, “If you do somethin’ for me.” He hovers the small, intimidating piece of paper over a small trash can.

“Anything,” you say, desperation coating your voice. He hums, ducking his head to stare at the trashcan.

“I wouldn’t say that,” he says, followed by a gravelly laugh. You gulp, waiting for him to explain.

“I want somethin’ from ya,” he finally looks up at you, wiping his mask-less jaw with his hand. “Somethin’ that isn’t…money.”

You slightly confound your head. “Like I said…anything,” you amend.

He sticks his tongue in his cheek, drops the tainted paper into the trash, and then takes slow, deliberate steps towards you.

You inhale as he stands before you, unsure of his intentions. Exhaling sharply only when he brings his thumb up, dragging it delicately across your jaw, tilting it up so you are looking at him.

“I think we could figure out a way for you to get that work paid in full,” he rumbles, brushing his thumb against your bottom lip. “And a way I could feel that pretty pussy around me.”

Your eyes widen at his words, dumbfounded by his sheer bluntness and vulgarity. Though you admit, you feel a knot start to form in your lower stomach and more wetness pool between your thighs.

“Unless you don’t want to?” His tone his monotone, no signs of resentment as he drops his hand from your face.

“No—I do,” you affirm, even grabbing his hand and then dropping it from embarrassment. “I just didn’t think…you, uh, liked me like that,” you mutter, shifting on your feet and shifting your gaze to the concrete floor you both stand on.

“Oh, trust me. I like you like that,” he laughs lowly, stepping closer to you, bringing his hand back to the same spot to brush his finger against your pouty lip. “Can I?” He questions his gaze on your lips. You nod, standing on your tiptoes, gripping his neck, and bringing his lips to yours. You could taste remnants of cigarette smoke and the icy tang of Nicorette mint gum.

The kiss quickly became full of fervent urgency. Sloppy lips sucking your own, hands aimlessly gripping any piece of flesh it could, and teeth frantically clashing with your own.

“You do this with all your clientele?” you tease as Simon grips the bottom of your shirt and quickly pulls it off your head.

“Nah,” he coolly says, hands palming your breasts over your bra. “Just the ones I jerk off to.” You gasp at not only his hands on such a sensitive part of you but also his confession.

“You jerk off to me?” you tentatively ask, bringing your hands to grip the hem of his shirt, slipping it off his head. His lips instantly connect with your neck.

“What about it?” he murmurs against your skin, dragging his tongue from the side of your neck to your lips.

“I just…I finger myself thinking about you,” you admit in between his feverish kisses, which are apparently taking away your sense of shame. He pulls back only a little.

“You’re tellin’ me…” he reaches down to bring your hand up, grazing your fingers with his own. “You plunge these in your pussy, thinkin’ about me?” he stares at your fingers, unable to comprehend what he’s hearing. He darts his eyes to yours. “I get you off?”

“Of course you do,” you attest, dragging your hand so it rests on his cock that is tucked away in his greased stained jeans. He groans at your touch.

“Now let me see what I’ve been imagining.”

He wastes no time stripping you bare, throwing your bra and panties off to the side, before he unlatches his belt, roughly yanking his jeans and boxers down just below his thighs.

He grips the back of your thighs before hauling you over to a wood table that currently holds some pens and a toolbox. His lips connect with your collarbone, then to the fat of your breast, as you lazily stroke his cock.

“Little smaller than I imagined,” you cheekily say before Simon lightly nips at your nipple with his teeth, making you moan. He laughs against your skin, sending vibrations throughout your entire body.

“And yet it still makes you fuckin’ wet,” he cockily says as his hand slips to graze your glistening cunt. You don’t even talk; you have no breath left to speak. So, you let out a pathetic noise instead—somewhere between a moan and whine.

“Let me play with ya for a minute,” he murmurs into your ribs, pointer finger brushing against your labia. You squirm at his touch.

“Simon. I just…I need you in me,” you beg, pulling him by the hair so his ear is by your mouth, rocking your hips against his finger in you.

“I’m gonna come as soon as I’m in you, Sweetheart,” he says honestly, pointer plunging into your cunt, gently touching your clit.

“I don’t care…just…just,” you rasp, unable to speak with his hand plunging into you.

“Fine, fine,” he says. He gives his cock a tug before he pokes your entrance with the head, gripping your hips before he pushes inside you a little. He grits his teeth at the sensation, and you whine at the slight pain.

“Open up for me. Come on,” he hisses, throwing his head back as he sinks deeper into you. “There she goes,” he praises, gripping one of your legs and positioning it so it lies straight up against his body. You both groan at the deeper contact.

“Shit,” you curse as Simon starts up a good pace. His cock managed to graze you in all of the right spots—reaching places you didn’t even know was possible.

You knew you both wouldn’t last long at this pace—you’re honestly not so sure he would have lasted at any pace. He was painfully hard when you hadn’t even whipped your tits out.

Though you thought the jokes were on him, as soon as he brought his thumb to stimulate your clit, you were skewing curses, tightening around his cock.

“Fuck. That’s it…that’s—” he panted out as he felt you clamp around him, hearing you yell, ‘Coming,” before he followed with his orgasm.

Once both of your orgasms have subsided, he helps you off the table to grab your clothing. You gently tug on your lip before you speak.

“Also…about the payment?” You shyly question as he pulls his jeans up.

“Consider it handled,” he says with a smirk as he zips up his jeans.

a/n: bye once again i abused the italicized button

reblogs & comments are encouraged!

[0mg-bird]

Hangman’s Mystery - J Seresin x Fem! Reader

Pairing: Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x Shy! Fem! Reader

Summary: Jake takes you to meet the crew after claims of him hiding you from them. You’re extremely shy and aren’t a fan of lots of people, making Jake be more protective of you. For once, Rooster knows more about Jake’s life than the others do.

Warnings: Mentions of anxiety - protective Jake- Fluff!- language.

“All I’m saying is it’s a little suspicious.” Payback says, opening his locker up. Jake just rolls his eyes, preparing himself to go through this debate one more time.

“I hate to say this, but I agree with him.” Fanboy pipes in, pulling his flight suit off.

Somehow, the conversations lately always turn back to you. Ever since the flight crew found out Jake’s been seeing someone and it wasn’t a casual hook up, they’ve bugged him about it ever since. It had come up one night at the Hard Deck, when Coyote suggested to a perky blonde, who had been hitting on him, to focus her attention on the southern boy who was playing pool. She eyed Jake up, pleased with what was in her gaze and moved in on him.

Some of the boys gathered around to watch the cocky pilot work his magic. Coyote figured he was doing the pilot a favor since he hadn’t been seen with a girl on his arm in a while. Imagine their surprise when Jake took a step away from the grasp on his bicep.

“What’s he doing?” Payback questions, looking appalled.

“Is he sick?” Phoenix asked as she finished her beer.

Jake had smiled politely and rejected all advances the girl made, sending her away and going straight to his pool game again.

By the time Rooster came around with a fresh drink, the group scrambled to fill him in on the alien sight they just witnessed.

“He sent her away.” Phoenix said with a slack jaw.

“Like a poor puppy.” Coyote joked.

Rooster took a swig of his beer, then shrugged like they were idiots. “Yeah, he already has a girl.”

“What?!” They all exclaimed.

Ever since that night a week ago, Jake was being grilled on it.

As he takes out a fresh shirt to slip on, Jake shakes his head. “Coyote is getting married, and y’all are icing me for having commitment?”

Payback nods. “Well that’s because we knew of his fiancée, you have been hiding this girl like a dirty little secret.”

“I think him and Bradshaw are pulling our leg.” Coyote pipes in. “I think he made her up just to fuck with us.”

Jake laughs out loud. “You are just being ridiculous now.”

Bob, who has been quiet the entire time, ‘lurking’ as the crew likes to say, finally uses his smug voice. “Look, Seresin, I get it. I had a fake girlfriend too one time in high school, it’s embarrassing to admit, buddy.” His words make the guys laugh, and Jake shuts his locker with a loud clank. “She’s not fake! She just doesn’t really like hanging out with dick heads like you guys. She’s real shy.” He glares.

“Well, I’ll believe it when I see it.” Fanboy states. “Yeah, we want to meet her. You bring her to the Hard Deck on Friday night if she’s real, or else we will never stop bugging you about it.” He says, giving Jake a harsh choice.

His hand runs down his face. “I’ll talk to her about it.”

“He’ll talk to her about it, he says.” Coyote scoffs. “Okay Seresin, go talk to your fake girlfriend about it.”

“She’s not fake!”

~~~~~~~

“Baby?” He calls, walking through your front door. Moving to set his small duffle bag on the counter, he toes off his boots, trying to place where you were in the sea side house. It was oddly quiet, maybe you had your head phones in, oblivious to the world outside.

Down the hall he goes, pushing open your cracked bedroom door. Your scrubs were tossed in the corner, almost making it into the laundry hamper. You lay sprawled in bed, hair out of your braid, asleep in one of Jake’s t shirts he left at your house and some boxer shorts.

Slowly, he creeps to your side, sitting on the edge of the bed as he strokes your hair. You slowly start to stir, opening your bright eyes to him. A smile creeps up your pink lips, you take a deep breath in and twist to sit up.

“Hi.” You grin, happy he’s here.

“You alright? It’s only five, you look tired.” His voice was calm, sweet to you as he stroked the under side of your chin with his finger.

You rubbed your eyes. “Long day.” You breathe. “Mr. Johnson passed this morning.”

Jake’s eyes grow heavy with sorrow for you. He knew that this was normal for you because you were an at home nurse and a lot of the time the elderly patients pass. “I’m sorry, honey.” He says, leaning to kiss your forehead.

You lean into his touch. “It’s alright, I should be used to it by now but…I don’t know, Mr. Johnson was a sweet man, I actually adored his company.” You softly laugh. “But, that’s life, I’ll be fine.”

Pushing the covers further off of you, you lean forward and sweetly kiss the man that’s been in your life for five months. Despite the somewhat short time period, you couldn’t imagine life being any different than what it is. Your mother and sister called you crazy for being with an aviator, reminding you that he won’t stay in town forever, that he is quite literally owned by the government and will be wherever he is assigned to. The thought was scary, getting so attached to someone just for him leave when his ship comes in. It made your anxiety tick higher when you thought about it for too long. But, you don’t think you’ve ever been this in love. You’ll be the first to admit that you’ve never been a social butterfly, you were stuck in a shell, hardly bothering to get close to new people. Your handful of friends knew this about you, so it was a surprise when they met Jake and all of his infectious attitude. Somehow, Jake had a way of prying that shell open, his strong hands took you off the shelf and he learned that there’s a light hearted, good time, girl under all the shy innocence. He loved you for both versions, and it made you love him even more.

You declared that if you could, you’d follow him anywhere.

As he takes a shower, probably using your shampoo, you move to figure out what it is that you wanted to make for dinner.

You turn on some music, cracking a beer open and taking a drink. Soon, the kitchen is full of a delicious scent that Jake smells all the way from the bedroom. He follows the waft, sweatpants low on his hips and a casual tank top over her upper half. Finding you stirring some vegetables, he kisses the side of your head, then snatches the half drank bottle from your hand. This is usually the routine, you can never finish the drink you intend to, so he’s there to finish it for you.

“I want to…ask you something.” He says, leaning back against the counter.

You hum in question, and he loves the little look you toss him from over your shoulder.

“You wanna go out on Friday night?” He asks, making you smile. “Sure, where do you want to go?” You ask, unsure why he seems off.

“Well, I think since I’ve met your friends, you should meet mine. Let’s go to the Hard Deck with them, honey.”

You immediately stop your movements, anxiety sweeping over you. “Jake…I don’t know…a bar…”

“I met you in a bar.” He reminds with a smug look.

“That was different.” You turn to face him. “I was dragged there for my sister’s twenty first birthday and you know I hated it the whole time.”

He smiles at your pointed look. “Yes, I know but this will be different. Look, we’ll go, say hi, prove you actually exist, then come home and have sex on the couch.”

Your eyes widen. “Jake!” You gasp at his bluntness.

“Fine, we’ll do it in the shower.”

“Just stop talking.” You shake your head, hiding your smile. “The crew really doesn’t think I exist?”

He comes to grips with your waist. “They think I’ve made you up, like some sad Freshman geek…like i’m Bob or something.”

“Who’s Bob?” You ask with confusion.

His head dips to your neck. “Come to the bar and you’ll figure it out.” He mumbles, inhaling your scent before nipping at your skin. It makes you laugh, desperate to push him away but his strong arms have you locked in.

Something about him could make you forget anything. Sadness, anxiety, tiredness…the veggies that are burning in the skillet.

As his mouth moves up your throat, he’s engulfing you like a starved man. You try to speak before he’s inhaling you deeply, pulling you impossibly closer with his mouth on yours, searing you with a kiss that makes your knees weak.

“Jake- baby- mm.” You battle. “Okay, I’ll go with you. Jake- vegetables are charring.”

He finally lets go of you, grinning at your laugh and the way you stumble slightly as he lets you go.

~~

Clammy hands run down your jeans, once, twice, three times before Jake pulls you towards the entrance.

“They’re not gonna like me.” You stress.

“They’ll love you.” He states, wrapping an arm around your waist.

“They’ll be bored of me in two seconds.” You continue.

“No they won’t, just breathe, honey.”

You’re submerged into a room full of talk and music, some rowdy college kids are being thrown out and you’re sure you stepped in a puddle of spilled margarita. Your eyes are wide, and you shift closer into the larger body beside you. Jake leans down to whisper in your ear that it’s calmer in the back.

By the pool table, a group is gathered there and you immediately assume this is the infamous crew.

Phoenix is the first to notice, she smacks Payback and Fanboy, motioning for them to look alive.

“Well well, here he is, the man himself.” Coyote says smugly, setting his pool stick down.

A shorter pilot approaches you. “How much did he pay you to be here?” He asks, confusing you.

“What?”

“Just joking, I’m Reuben, but everyone calls me Payback, and you’re gorgeous.” He takes your hand in greeting, making your face heat with surprise and embarrassment.

Payback is pushed aside, and replaced by another. “I’m Fanboy, his back seater which means he’d be shit outa luck if he didn’t have me saving his ass.”

You shake his hand too, unsure of what to say.

“So, what’s your name? Wait, what was the last one, Jake? Abbi? Alison? Sorry, he has a thing for A names. Your name start with an A?” His tone is teasing, but he’s so straightforward, it makes things awkward.

Jake’s grip tightens on you. “Cut it out, Garcia.” He slowly said with a warning look.

Fanboy puts his hands up in defense. “Just trying to get to know this mystery girl you hid from us, Hangman.” He claims, then goes back to your gaze. “What’s your name?”

“Y/N, it’s nice to meet you.” You say softly, brushing him off.

You’re introduced to more guys, all who make some sort of snide comment about your relationship with Jake, well, except for Bob who was utterly polite. To your surprise, you’re introduced to Natasha greets you with a hug.

“Well, you’re real and not crazy so that’s a plus.” She jokes, making you chuckle. “You want something to drink?” She asks.

“You’re sweet, thank you. I’ll just take a beer, I’m not picky.” You say in a grateful tone, she nods, saying she’ll be right back.

Moving in from outside, Rooster makes his appearance.

“I missed the meet and greet? Damn.” He says, making you turn with a grin.

“Bradley, hi!” You greet, stepping away from Jake’s embrace momentarily. Rooster hugs you politely. “Hey girly, how are you?”

The crew grows a sour look.

“You two already know each other?” Coyote asks.

Rooster nods. “I was there when her and Hangman met.” He says so casually.

“Bradley and Ashley come over for lunch sometimes.” You add, making the group look at each other.

“Does no one tell us anything anymore or…” Bob trails off.

The night continues with chatter and worthless bets on pool shots. At no point does your hand leave Jake, whether it’s intertwined with his or on his arm, his back, your finger hooked on his belt loop, anything. It might make you look needy, but it’s something that eases your nerves.

When you do pull away from him with intention of finding the bathroom, he immediately turns when your warmth is gone.

“Where you goin’?” He questions.

“The ladies room, a place you can’t follow me in to.” You tease, starting to walk away.

He’s eyes scan the room, then watch you closely. He doesn’t miss the amount of guys that turn to watch you, scanning you up and down, definitely making comments about how good you fit in your jeans.

His paranoia gets the better of him, he marches across the bar to the hallway where the restrooms are. Back leaned against the wall, he waits, standing guard, in his mind, but the pilots call him a puppy.

“Mystery girl went and made him a golden retriever.” Payback laughs.

Fanboy nods. “We’ve lost him for good. What’s he gonna do when he leaves next month for Po-dunk, Texas- or wherever he’s from?”

They all watch as you and Jake slowly start to walk back to the group. Rooster, who finishes his beer, simply shrugs and leans to line his pool stick up. “He says he’s gonna take her with him and marry her.”

“What?!”

[yanderenightmare]

TW: yandere, noncon/dubcon, angst, unwanted pregnancy, blackmail, ish-baby trapping

PART ONE only avaliable on AO3 due to Tumblr restrictions

fem reader

You went cold and forgot how to breathe.

When you got to the kindergarten, they told you his father had already come and collected him early. All looking at you as though you were crazy, assaulting the daycare workers with your hands in a bruising grip, shaking her by her shoulders—demanding she tell you where he took him. 

She spilled the name of some family restaurant down the road and said he’d wanted you to join them there. The poor thing was on the verge of tears when you let go.

Rushing out, you all but ran down the streets before pushing yourself through the doors—cold-sweating and swivel-eyed—in a panic, scanning faces with his name coming out weak under your breath. 

With your vision spinning, you felt faint before you heard it.

“Mommy! Mommy! You’re here! Look! I’m King of the castle!” he shouted, and your peeled eyes snapped to see him up high in a bright red plastic tower.

But before your shoes could hit the soft foam of the playground, you were intercepted by something larger.

“He’s fine,” he said under his breath, catching and stopping you in your beeline, holding you by the waist. “I need to talk to you.”

Something old and instinctive didn’t bother paying him heed—as if forgetting how to speak, you just ignored him in favor of pushing past him, eyes glued to the sight of your son blissfully unaware, playing with other kids with an oblivious smile on his face. But his grip was stronger than your instincts, firm enough to keep you still but not enough to hurt you, even when you tried twisting yourself free.

“Come on,” he urged.

You were about to sneer something, finally looking at his face—that face you hated—but the bark of curse words got held back.

“Look around you. Let’s not cause a scene.” The wild animal within went silent while your eyes flickered around at the surrounding picnic tables where families were having their dinner. “We can talk outside. My assistant will look after him.”

You didn’t feel much inclined to listen, but still, even though it made you hate to fold on his behest—reluctantly, you accepted the sense of what he was saying. Looking back at your son still laughing up in his tower with cinched brows. You didn’t want to scare him when he didn’t know what was going on, even though you felt the need to scream at the very top of your lungs.

You allowed him to lead you outside, but as soon as the fresh air welcomed your rigid state, you were at once whipping around and pushing him away. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?!” snarling at him. “How fucking dare you?!”

“Calm down. He might still see us,” he hushed, hands raised in halfhearted surrender, casting a nod to the glass walls separating you from the frivolity inside. “Let’s just talk rationally.”

“Rationally?!” you scoffed in a shout, eyes still manic. “You fucking kidnapped my son, you psycho-”

“You wouldn’t answer my texts or calls,” he snubbed. “He’s my son too-”

“Fuck you,” you interrupted to return the favor. “If you fuck with me on this, I swear I’ll ruin you.” You had a finger raised at him, breathing furiously—looking down-right mad—sweaty and disheveled from your run with your face twisted with such a state of frenzy. “I’ll tell everyone how I got him in the first place!”

Despite the threat, he didn’t seem all that fazed. 

“Think about it…” he said calmly, much in contrast to you. “Who do you think people will believe? A teenage mom abusing her son for a paycheck or his estranged father wanting to provide for him?”

You blanched, and before anything else made it out—whether it be more rage or something else, he was already further silencing you.

“Not to mention… the trial would be gruesome, and Junior would have to grow up with it always hanging over his head—is that really what you want?”

You look at him, and you still can't believe it. How could it have turned out like this? You’d been perfect only a month ago before he’d shown up at your apartment.

You thought you’d sent him on his way for good that day, but only now did you realize he had no plans to leave you alone.

“Come, let’s talk in the car. It’s cold, and you’re not dressed,” he ushered, taking your arm again where you stood, stunned and still, trying to wrap your head around his threats. Letting yourself be led into the black vehicle standing perfectly parked in its neat white rectangle.

You both got in the back with enough room to battle your homey sofa nook at home.

“I don’t want this to get ugly,” he started anew—his voice still so irritatingly calm, unfairly so. “I just want to see my son-”

“He’s not yours,” you croaked, feeling the situation slip from your fingers—battling a drumming heart, shifty breaths, and the mean sting of tears welling up in your eyes.

“If you try and keep him from me, I’ll sue for full custody. And given I’m the only one out of us who isn’t a pro-bono case and the only one with any future that isn’t managing a register, I’d say I have a pretty fair shot at winning.”

You can’t keep from bursting out crying then, overwhelmed by the fear of losing the only thing that mattered and the pure disgust of the man who’d given it to you. It felt like everything was tearing—your whole life—crumbling before your eyes.

“Don’t cry,” he soothed, his hand coming to drape your hunched shoulders where you held your tears. “I don’t want to take him away from you…” His attempt did little to comfort you, but the next words had your heart grasping for what little hope they offered. “And I’m not going to either.”

You looked at him through the hurt of swollen eyes, tears still falling while he wiped them away with the course pad of his thumb—rubbing your cheek affectionately. In any other circumstance, you’d surely slap him, but right now, all you could do was listen.

“I’m buying a house,” he revealed, still holding your cheek and gaze. “Fit for a family. Safe neighborhood, good school district, giant backyard.” The list went over your head—it was all too surreal to register. You couldn’t even fathom what he was getting at until, “I want the two of you to come live there with me.”

Stunned, you remained completely silent until the tears dried, and he let go of your face. 

“You don’t have to say anything right now.” He reaches across you and fetches the seatbelt before coming back over you to click it in place. “I’ll go get Junior and drive you home. Just stay here.”

You do as suggested and stay seated as he pops his door open and leaves—feeling all but cemented in place as your thoughts go tumbling around and around as if caught in a rip curl. When Junior jumps in beside you, a farfetched smile is all you can offer. Thankfully, he’s so enamored by a toy he’d gotten to notice much of your state.

When your door opens again, you’re led out and onto your neighborhood street. The fresh air does little to clear your mind. Feeling all but feverish as you hold Junior's small hand in yours while the man of your nightmares smiles all too fondly at the two of you.

“I’ll come pick you up after your shift on Monday.,” he says decidedly—cheerfully as he ruffles Junior’s hair enough to make him giggle. “Bring the rascal with you, and he can pick his room first.”

You weren’t planning on staying. You were never planning on staying—certain you would leave the second the opportunity to skip town arose—you just need to scramble the money together first. 

But the house was huge… nothing you could ever dream of, and while it made you desperate with grief, you couldn’t deny it either… Junior really loved having a dad.

It nearly brought sick to your throat to call him that. It was a shot through the heart every time you heard Junior’s boyish call, squealing with giggles, saying “Daddy, daddy, daddy-”

None of it seemed right to you. Seeing his bright smile, now at the age where a new tooth fell out every other week—looking so goofy as he proudly shows the two of you the new one he’d just knocked out playing soccer at school. “Mommy, Daddy, look!”

What’s worse is that you can't even deny how good the man you hate is at it all—spoiling him with gifts and making him laugh—giving piggyback ride after air-plane flight after tickle-fight and a game of tag and hide’n’seek. 

And it’s not just the easy stuff. He’s good at the shit that used to make you go crazy—putting him to bed, getting him dressed, making him eat the right stuff, and not just scuffle down candy. It’s as if the two of them have developed a secret language you’re not a part of. If Junior weren’t a toddler, you’d even suspect he’d been bribed and told to do his best to make you lose your mind. But no, it’s just reality.

The man you live with drives and picks your son up from school as if he’d done it since he was born, goes with you to meet the teacher if and when he gets into trouble and helps the two of you pick out the right shoes—shoes that you can now afford, thanks to him.

“I thought I might sleep in the master bedroom tonight.” He says, leaning against the frame in the doorway.

You’d been living there a month now. He’d been generous enough to sleep in the guest room up until now.

You don’t know how to deny him. It feels as if anything you might say would just be ignored or threatened until you eventually took it back. You didn’t want him in your bed—you didn’t want him in the same house—in fact, preferably, you’d want him to be six feet deep in the dirt.

You end up not answering. But he’s used to that by now. 

“I get it…” he says, taking steps into the room you’d wrongfully thought was your safe space. “You don’t trust me.” He sits down at the edge of the bed and reaches out across the sheets. You’re too late to pull your feet to yourself before he has one in his hand. He doesn’t do much but stroke it. “But you can.”

The sincerity in his eyes makes you want to gouge them out. It’s all been some cruel joke ever since you moved in—all the pleasantries and presents, as if trying to distract you from the past. Your wardrobe is chockfull of it, and so is Junior’s room—filled to the brim with lies.

“I’m never gon’ hurt you.” Another lie. “I did you wrong once, and I’ll spend the rest of my life makin’ up for it.” 

You want to shake your head, laugh in his face—anything to reject it. But you’re terrified of what he might do if you didn’t play along. The threat of losing Junior is enough to make you cooperative.

“I know I’ve not been fair—pushin’ you into all of this so fast.” He gets down on his knees on the floor as if praying, right down beside you. “I took advantage of a vulnerable situation ‘cause I’m an impatient asshole—but I promise you—” He takes your hand in both of his. “If you give me the chance, I’m gon’ make our lives together like somethin’ outa’ a fuckin’ fairytale—all that happily ever after shit and more, just like you always wanted.”

The kiss he presses upon your knuckles beckons goosebumps to rise all across you. All his words feel like a bad script read by an even worse actor—in fact, this whole thing feels like a prank. And still, it doesn’t surprise you—he’s been laughing at you ever since you were children.

And now, laughing still, only with a fucking ringbox in his hand.

“I want Junior to see us as a united front. I don’t want him askin’ question why we ain’t sleepin’ in the same bed, why we fight behind locked doors, why you cry in the bathroom.” 

He pops the black velvet lid and reveals something so outrages it almost looks tacky lying there in a plush bed of red silk.

“I want us to be happy.” He picks the little thing out and holds it up between his thumb and index, still holding your hand in the other. “I want us to be real.” You can almost see your life flash before your eyes as it threatens your ring finger. “Let’s make us real.”

You don’t say anything as he eases the tiny hoop on, sliding it all the way back until it sits snugly right at your knuckle—dazzling in the dark. A tiny tear slips down your cheek—equally dazzling.

He played some with the digit—a smile on his face. 

“Looks good on you, Mrs.” As he calls you by his last name you almost shake the ring off as if it burned to wear, but it all gets lost when he rushes forward and locks his lips with yours.

You yelp against his mouth, kept from turning away by the large hand holding your jaw, threatening to seize your throat and squeeze. You remember how it had felt. You don’t want more of a reminder, so you intercept his tongue with yours before he forced it down your throat.

He groans at the warm welcome, and your entire body shudders in memory.

You hadn’t let anyone touch you since that time five years ago. It had left a poor taste in your mouth, and the hunger for it had never come back.

You choke it down now as he climbs on top. 

♡ BNHA – Bakugou, Dabi, Hawks ♡ JJK – Sukuna, Geto, Gojo, Naoya, Toji

♡ FEM x M INSERT masterlist ♡ GN x M INSERT masterlist

[neuvistar]

Biker! Dan heng, Sunday and aventurine?

Sfw and NSFW

Like I'm brain dead for them

DREAM RIDE. biker! honkai star rail men part one

— featuring ┊aventurine, sunday, (il) dan heng x fem!reader (all separate)

— warnings / content warnings ┊all consensual! sfw + nsfw, feminine terms used (she, girl, etc), cunniligus (aventurine #1 pussy eater strikes again), orgasm denial (sunday), jus a tad bit of subby dan heng, semi-public s3x? (sunday), blowjob (dan heng), use of vibrators (sunday), riding (dan heng) use of nicknames, multiple orgasms, bath s3x (aventurine), sunday is a MENACE here, reader implied 2 be a lil smaller than them, v4ginal fingering (aventurine), more tba! | 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.

— a/n ┊NOT PROOFREAD ! might correct tmr if i’m not sleepy! <3 anyways hi guys writers block stopped biting my ass anyways guys i’m SOOO attracted 2 aventurine it’s acc insane he needs to be jailed from how majestic he is.. erm! whoever keeps sending asks abt biker! hsr men god bless u and ur entire family | reblogs r appreciated

⊹ 𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐄

sfw.

⊹ BIKER!AVENTURINE who would take you out for late night rides! he’s a total drama queen, let’s get that out of the way. he loves you, yes, but he’d get so pouty whenever you turn him down for your daily night rides with him, he sulks and sulks.. clinging onto your figure until you finally say yes! jokes aside, aventurine really does enjoy your company, he really does value quality time as he would go as far to even take you out to see the stars, feel the breeze and have some fresh air, or just have a midnight snack!

“come on, baby.. 2am is nothing! just come and ride with me for a bit, i promise i’ll have you back til 3?”

⊹ BIKER!AVENTURINE who always finds himself buying you gifts before visiting you and such! sometimes he’d just be riding around on the road and all of the sudden his hands are full of bags and gifts just for you before he gets to your place! he’s a huge gift giver, spoiling you to the brim.

“would [name] like this one.. no no, maybe this one. hm.. maybe both.”

⊹ BIKER!AVENTURINE who can be insecure at times, sometimes he thinks about whether he’s truly right for you or not. like, usually he wouldn’t give in to these thoughts but there are times where he’s just riding around at night n he suddenly stops n goes.. “what if [name] is bored of me?” even though he might not show it, poor thing needs A LOT and i mean A LOT of reassurance from you, please tell him he’s good enough for you!

“my darling.. are you sure i’m right for you? i mean, you know. i’ve just been.. thinking. you’re not gonna leave, are you.. hm? ‘gonna stay with me, right?”

nsfw.

⊹ BIKER!AVENTURINE absolutely loves having sex while you both take bubble baths, i mean.. it’s essential to have good hygiene, isn’t it? aventurine pumped his fingers within your pussy, circling his thumb over your clit as he licked his lips, nuzzling close against your neck. “mmh.. you like that?” his voice, husky and low as his fingers reached the deepest parts of your cunt, a sharp gasp caught in your throat as he held you firmly against him. watching you struggle to stifle your moans made him feel a combination of pride and surprise. aventurine gripped your waist lightly, offering support and reassurance. "damn, sweetheart.. are my fingers that good?" he murmured, his voice low and steady.

aventurine growled softly, pleasure coursing through him at your reaction. his fingers deeply thrusted in and out of you, feeling your tight walls spasm around his digits. with a lick of his lips, he added another finger within your drenched pussy.. the sound of water splashing against his fingers, his speed rising more and more.. stretching you delicately. "missed this," he groaned, adding more speed to his rhythm. "missed the way your body responds to me, my darling girl..” his eyes locked onto yours, seeing the desire mirrored back at him. he wanted to make you cum, that was his goal for the night.. to hear you scream his name again. the roughness of his fingers grew, the sounds of water splashing against his hand was enough to embarrass you, aeons.. he was going fast alright. “c’mon, sweetheart.. it’s been ages since i made you squirt. mmh.. these fingers are good enough to make you squirt, right?”

⊹ BIKER!AVENTURINE who would eat you out almost all the time, whether it’s on his motorcycle seat while he holds your body, or maybe his table filled with tools, or just a plain old bed. aventurine is willing to eat you out literally anywhere, his tongue piercing made it even better. aventurine savoured every second of this, allowing his senses to be consumed by your intoxicating flavour. your body trembled above him, carefully laid on the seat of his motorcycle as he chuckled against your pussy.. your hands buried in his hair as he delved deeper into your depths. the blonde’s tongue danced expertly, exploring every hidden crevice while his fingers played with your swollen bud. “you taste divine," he murmured against your sex, causing you to arch your back sharply. "just like the finest wine, only better." his words hung heavy in the air between them, fuelling your rising passion.

aventurine attacked your cunt hungrily, devouring your folds with complete vigor. aeons, he was obsessed with your pussy, and your taste. the way your wetness spilled out onto his tongue, mixing with the warm atmosphere surrounding the both of you drove him crazy. his large hands held you firmly against the seat of his motorcycle, hands roamed freely over your body, tweaking one of your nipples roughly while diving deeper inside your drenched pussy. your boyfriend groaned into your folds, feeling your walls tremble around him. “good darling.. such a good girl taking my tongue so well.” “.. ‘turine.. you’re gonna make me fall on here.. j—just eat me out on the desk..” you murmured, wincing when you felt a slap on your pussy. “whoops, sorry angel,” ugh.. this tease. “mm.. no-can-do, sweetheart. i like seeing you like this. just imagine, my cum leaking out of your pussy and right onto my bike.” he licked a single stripe on your cunt, chuckling when he noticed your legs quivering. “oh how fascinating would that be.”

⊹ 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐀𝐘

sfw.

⊹ BIKER!SUNDAY who has a habit of grabbing onto your waist, or just snaking his arm around it! i mean, he does this for many reasons.. one, to show you’re taken, and two, mm.. he just feels like it! sunday would do it on random occasions, whether he’s talking with his biker friends, at the cashier, anywhere! he loves grabbing your waist and he makes that very clear, maybe if he’s in the mood.. he’d slide his hand beneath your shirt as well wink wink

sunday glanced at your form, a small smile forming on his face when he saw you examining your surroundings. he snaked an arm around your waist, pulling your body firmly against his.

⊹ BIKER!SUNDAY who’s jealousy is intense. sunday would get angry at you, give you the silent treatment, or just bluntly ignore you if you were found talking and laughing with another guy other than him. he refuses to believe that you can be happy with other guys other than him. he would glare at other people he catches staring at what’s his, he was.. possessive. and whenever you catch sight of it, he would try and manipulate you to thinking he’s doing it for your own good! because all those men that were staring at you were bad! (wow, he’s a bastard) saying this, he’s a huge manipulator.. it can be a handful dating him.

“trust me, my love. can’t you see how those men were staring at you?” his voice was soft, dangerously soft. the malicious glint in his eyes didn’t hide anything. “they’re after you, angel. they’re after what’s mine. i’m only trying to protect you. why are you so doubtful of me, hm? do you not love me anymore? are you perhaps.. bored of me?”

⊹ BIKER!SUNDAY who loves being in control, this can be taken in a sexual or non sexual sense <3 sunday is assertive, and he knows what’s right for you. (most of the time!) he can be a bit controlling at times, but he means no harm! he just wants to keep you safe, promise! sometimes sunday would give you that look whenever you would try n defy him, he means business.. trust me. because of this, he can be cold and stubborn towards you at times without even knowing, geez.. he really needs to work on that.

nsfw.

⊹ BIKER!SUNDAY loves being in control, as i’ve mentioned.. but especially in bed. besides that, he’s so damn mean.. he doesn’t let you cum unless he tells you to, kissing your tears away with his lips. “ah ah ah, darling.. what did i say about cumming?” his eyes devoured your small frame, taking in every curve and angle of your body. sunday couldn't help but feel a surge of dominance and control over you, chuckling lowly. you was his, every fiber of your being was his, and he'd take care of you properly. his thrusts were hard to take in, his size and speed.. aeons. the way his cock slides in so easily had him biting his lip, he’s so mean and strict whenever you both make love, spanking you a few times whenever he sees you dozing off!

his eyes never left yours, even when he would immediately pull out when you were on the verge of orgasming, earning a sweet whine from your lips. “please.. please let me cum! sunday, baby please.. i can’t hold it anymore!” oh, how if only you knew how much he loves it when you beg. “oh baby.. i love it when you beg like that.” sunday groaned deeply from pleasure, landing another smack to your ass.. grinning at the sight of you swirling beneath him, “it only makes me wanna do this more.. it makes me wanna keep you here, stop you from cumming all over my cock. do you want that?” “n—no please.. please let me cum, sunday.. i need it—“ “keep begging, my angel. maybe i’ll let you cum if you keep begging and whining for me. come now, speak up.”

⊹ BIKER!SUNDAY who absolutely loves using vibrators on you whenever you both go out together, it’s amusing to him! (stupid bastard) he would increase it’s speed at random times to catch you off guard.. for his own amusement. listen, you really love your boyfriend but sometimes you just wanna slap that stupid smile off his face. you were casually picking out some candy in the candy aisle, a soft smile on your face before you felt that same old sensation within you.. causing a gasp to leave your pretty lips. “mm.. what are you looking at here, my love?” sunday murmured softly, chuckling at your vulnerable state. “sunday.. lower the speed please..” you begged, aeons! you were stupid to even think he’d decrease it’s speed!

your boyfriend smirked, the vibrator’s speed only grew more by the second as you could feel the wetness of your pussy seep through your panties, filling you with humiliation and embarrassment as you could barely walk, holding your hand over your mouth. “fuck.. sunday please..” you knew begging wasn’t gonna get you anywhere.. you knew you would have to have that stupid thing inside you for hours on end, overstimulating your pussy and entire body while your boyfriend watched and held you with pure amusement. to your bewilderment, there were times where sunday would go as far to fingering you by a nearby alleyway, his hands drenched in your juices. this man.. you wanted to be mad at him but you couldn’t bring yourself to be. sunday’s pretty fingers dug deep into your drenched pussy, knuckles deep while he had that same stupid sadistic smile on his face. “i should put that thing in you more.. look how wet your pussy is. it’s practically drooling for me, angel.”

⊹ 𝐈𝐋 𝐃𝐀𝐍 𝐇𝐄𝐍𝐆

sfw.

⊹ BIKER!DANHENG who is more of a private relationship typa guy, he prefers to keep his relationships private! despite this, he still shows his love for you in many other ways, it’s easy to say that some people are even surprised he was dating you, because of how reserved he is when it came to personal matters <3 he values his and yours’ privacy, you can trust me on that!

⊹ BIKER!DANHENG who struggles putting on his helmet because of his horns (lol), you find it really cute! whenever he leaves your house, sometimes he takes 10 minutes trying to figure out how to wear a helmet because of his horns. he found this so annoying to the point he probably had a custom helmet made for him and his horns!

you nearly let out a giggle when you gazed at him, struggling to wear his helmet over his head. dan heng’s tail swished against his leg, glancing up at you with a slight frown. “[name], it’s not funny.”

⊹ BIKER!DANHENG who would teach you how to ride a motorcycle so you and him can ride around together, i mean.. you can’t blame him! he doesn’t show it much, but he really does hope to spend more time with you, and he thinks this is effective and efficient! dan heng would guide you through it slowly, keeping his hands on your waist while he helped your practice with the brakes and all you needed to know! to be honest, this was really just an excuse to touch you, but can you blame him? his large hands would brush against your hips, helping you adjust and sit properly, it’s a good thing these things take awhile to learn!

“mhm, i got you.” his thumb rubbed circles on your hips, humming. “you’re a fast learner, [name]. you never fail to surprise me.”

nsfw.

⊹ BIKER!DANHENG who just loves having your pretty mouth wrapped around his cock after an exhausting day of biking all day and night. soft gasps and whimpers left his lips as he showed a completely different side of him that night, full of pure desperation and need. “am i.. doing this right?” your voice was muffled against his dick, sending vibrations to his nerves as his hand was carefully placed atop of your head, body aching for release. “yes.. keep sucking me off like that..” with a grunt, he closed his eyes briefly while savouring the warmth of your tongue tracing circles around the sensitive slit.

"more please, baby..“ dan heng begged, arching his back slightly as your warm, wet tongue caressed the head of his cock, teasing him mercilessly before sliding down its veiny shaft. the sensation was foreign yet familiar, sending waves of pleasure coursing through his body. unable to resist any longer, he reached down, gripping your hair tightly as he thrusts his hips upward, pushing deeper into your waiting mouth.his breathing became heavier, the sound of each labored gasp echoing in the otherwise silent room, punctuated by the sloppy sounds of your mouth working him over. your tongue swirls around the base of his cock, teasing the sensitive area underneath his balls before returning to suck and stroke him feverishly. “you’re so good to me.. s.. so good to me..”

⊹ BIKER!DANHENG who would let you ride him just like how he lets you ride his motorcycles! he just wants to put your pleasure first, really. dan heng’s mind raced as he watched you ride him. he was going to lose it, he knew it very well. the sight of you bouncing on his cock, your pussy coating his cock with pure white juices, the sound of your gasps, and the feeling of your breasts against his chest created a whirlwind of emotions. he watched you struggle to stifle your moans while gripping your waist lightly, offering support and reassurance. "you’re doing great, love. fuck.. take your time and do what feels good," he encouraged, his voice low and steady.

he hoped his presence provided comfort, guiding his precious girlfriend to enjoy the sensations without feeling pressure to perform. their bodies moved in harmony together, lust fuelled by the thrill of victory as dan heng’s breaths grew ragged. his face flushed at the sight of your breasts bouncing, biting his lip at how overwhelming this was.. the sound of skin slapping against each other was all that came through, their moans punctuated the intensity of their shared moment. your hands grabbed everywhere.. his biceps, his chest, and oh.. even his horns. he was absolutely losing it. “sh—shit.. use my cock, use my cock for your own pleasure, beloved.. you’re doing so well..”

@ NEUVISTAR. do not plagiarize, claim my work as your own, translate or share my posts on any platform outside of tumblr.

[gracieheartspedro]

For Cryin’ Out Loud

pairing: post-outbreak! joel miller x afab! reader

how to help the palestinians and what it means to write for the last of us characters

word count: 7.9k

description: living with joel is complicated, especially when you can’t sleep due to nightmares. when you find yourself in his bed, you can’t help yourself. but joel sure can. give him a day to mull it over.

warnings: pretty slow burn, kinda forced proximity, kinda angsty, unspecified age gap (don’t like it, don’t read it), joel gives you tons of nicknames (darlin’, kiddo, etc.), discussions of nightmares and possible mental illnesses, some fluff, reader isn’t really described, joel is kinda a gaslighter, he’s also a bit pervy, unprotected p in v (wrap it y’all), oral (f! receiving), dirty talk, joel like worships you!!!!!, joel licks his fingers clean, giving genitalia pronouns, joel’s a big boy. think that’s it. lemme know what I missed!

author’s note: I really enjoyed writing this. the idea is pretty simple but I love domestic jackson!joel. I promise i’ll try to switch it up soon and write something that isn’t jackson!era lol. support your fav fics by reblogging and commenting!! thanks love ya <3

For some reason, you always find yourself standing at the threshold of the front door when you cannot sleep. 

The air was especially brisk tonight. You wrapped yourself in a gray chunky sweater you found in the lost and found in Jackson’s thrift store, hoping to regain some warmth. Your bed may have been comfortable, but it was the place where nightmares usually plagued you. 

It was too late to be awake, and you knew that if you were caught, you would hear it from Joel. He always reprimanded you. Every time he caught you up late, it was like your father woke up and found your hand in the cookie jar. 

The dynamic between you two had changed since arriving in Jackson, and you almost resented him for it. When it was just you, him, and Ellie, you were managing a family unit. Joel was always the protective father, you being the mom or the voice of reason, and Ellie being chaos. 

When Ellie and Joel’s relationship shifted, he took on a fatherly role for you. It bothered you. A lot. 

In a moment of contemplation, you hear footsteps coming down the steps behind you. 

He’s wearing flannel pajama pants and no shirt, his hairy tummy something you did not see often. 

“What are you doing awake?” He questions, his voice groggy with a twinge of annoyance. 

You do not feel like explaining yourself, but you knew you wouldn’t be able to get out of this situation without a justification. 

You huff, leaning your back against the door frame so you can get a full look at the broad man. “Can’t sleep. Thought staring into the darkness would help.”

He grunts, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. “How’s that workin’ for you, sweetheart?”

You could not close your eyes without the haunting dreams that seemed lively and so real. Every night, you had the same recurring ones. You were being chased, hunted, or murdered. Or all of the above. You would wake in a cold sweat, not wanting to shut your eyelids ever again. 

“Hm,” You say, staring back outside for a brief moment, “‘Was better when you weren’t looking over my shoulder.”

He chuckles, “Get back to bed.”

“I can’t, Joel.”

“You can and will. You’re no good when you’re tired.”

“If I close my eyes, Joel, I will just have the same goddamn nightmares I have every night. And I will end up doing what I’m doing now, which is trying to get some fresh air to forget them.”

“You’re not gonna forget ‘em with some fresh air. You just need to… get over them.”

The breeze picks up as soon as he says it, almost like the world knew the tension would have to be broken with some frigid air. You retort with, “And how do you get over yours?”

"I just accept them," he says, a hint of defensiveness in his tone. "I don't have time to dwell on them. There's always more important things to worry about."

"I'm more tired in the morning when I just endure them." You explain, trying not to cry about it. But you are so sick of them. The same thing every night.

“I get it. One day they will subside, I’m sure of it. But for now, you gotta-”

You just want him to shut up. At the same time, your mind is trying to remember the last time you did not have a nightmare. The memory makes your stomach churn. “You remember that one time we were forced to share that sleeping bag? Back in Pittsburgh?”

“Yeah,” His tone was wary, “What about it?”

"That was the first night I didn't have it." You explain, your voice a bit shaking at the insinuation. You don’t want to face the fact that Joel, the man that you have known for going on 10 years, kept your nightmares at bay. The same man who continuously rejected you and told you that he was old enough to be your dad. The same man that told you no, I don’t like you like that. I never will. That Joel. 

“And? Why are you bringing this up now?”

"Because every night I go to my bed and I'm forced to face them alone. When you were there... they didn't even bother holding my mind hostage.”

He took another step closer, closing some of the distance between you two. He towers over you and you can’t help but stare up at him in awe. Joel has always been a complicated part of your life. You consider him your sexual awakening, honestly, but he will never ever know that. Over the years, he’s only gotten more handsome. 

But now, he has a curious expression written all over his face.

"Are you saying you want to share a bed with me?" he asks, his voice gruff and low.

You suck in a deep breath, not wanting to answer. You knew that was stepping over a boundary for Joel. He liked his space. He didn’t like you impeding on that space, especially. Your bedroom was the furthest away from his for a reason.

"I don't know." You manage to say.

Joel's gaze darkened, his expression was completely unreadable. You wish you could read his mind, but you should be grateful you can not. 

Because in Joel’s mind, he’s trying to formulate a way to convince you to stay away from him altogether. The wall he has built over the last decade was intentional. He did not want to hurt you any further. He already knew you had feelings for him, but he was an old man. He did not want to drag you into his mess, all the baggage he carried. He looked after you, he shared a home with you, and that’s it. Strictly platonic. 

He shifted on his feet a little, unable to tear his eyes away from you. You shook like a little leaf.

"You don't know?" he repeated, his voice a low rumble.

You nod, "I don't know if I want that."

You do want that. But you want more, too. You knew you would be playing with fire. You would just be disappointed. 

Joel’s temptations are buried deep but they still fester every now and again. Some days he would catch a glance at you getting dressed in the crack of your door and have to take a cold shower. As soon as he felt those emotions bubble in his chest, he would try to distract himself. Maybe he would take a longer patrol. Maybe he would go to the Tipsy Bison and try to find a woman to take home. That one never really worked. 

“Well, what do you want then? Because standin’ at the door and letting all the cold air in ain’t gonna work for me or you.”

You look down at your picked-over fingernails and contemplate your next sentence. You don't want to be heartbroken in the morning when you wake up and he's there sleeping peacefully next to you and you're not... his.

"I want to sleep with you."

Joel was not expecting such a blunt response from you, but he appreciated you not beating around the bush about it. He gestures for you to step out of the doorway so he can shut the door, which you do. 

He looked down at you, his eyes raking over your face, taking in the exhaustion and uncertainty. 

"You sure?" he asked, his voice a gruff whisper.

You just nod as he locks the front door. You couldn’t believe you were doing this. 

Joel couldn’t believe it either. Maybe it was the tiredness or the instincts he felt to protect you, but he was not mad at the idea of sharing his bed with you. 

You signal for him to go upstairs, “You lead the way.”

-

Joel’s room was always off-limits to you. So when you step into his small little world, you take it all in. 

The artwork around the room was mainly nature landscapes. He had a big dresser right at the room's entrance with picture frames of Sarah, Ellie, and other family members. You were even included in one photo—a picture of you and him on some horses from last year. 

A shirt littered one side of the bed, so you took that as it was probably his side. Unfortunately for you, it was the right side. You felt a pang of guilt realizing you would probably end up restlessly lying in Joel’s bed if you were stuck on the left. 

Before he can pull back the blanket for himself, you stop him. 

“Uh, can I sleep on that side?”

He completely halts in his motions, turning his head towards you with a blank expression. “My side? Why?”

You lick your lips, already regretting this whole thing. 

“Because I have had this superstition since I was a kid that I could only sleep on the right side of the bed."

Joel wants to laugh, but he doesn’t. He can tell you are at war in your head about the question, your expression practically anticipating his rejection. 

"Superstitions, huh?" he said, a hint of a smirk playing on his lips."You and your weird beliefs."

You watch as he crosses to the other side of the bed and lifts the blanket. Is he actually letting you have his side? Maybe he doesn’t hate you. 

“You could also call it a compulsion, but superstitions seem more fun and less like a mental illness.”

He laughs this time, his deep chuckle making you feel a bit more relaxed about the situation. You did not feel like a burden as much. You walk to the right side and pull back his navy blue sheets and blanket. The spot looks warm and inviting so when you crawl in next to Joel, you start to realize that you’re back in the same situation you were in years ago in that sleeping bag. He was so close and warm and you wanted nothing more but for him to hold you and keep you comfortable.

But then another thing came to mind before you could imagine his arms around you. 

You usually sleep on your right side or back, but now you don't know what to do because you didn't know how Joel slept.

"Do you sleep on your side or back?"

Joel studies you as you fidget beside him, your uncertainty causing him to smirk slightly. It was almost endearing, seeing you be completely out of control of your surroundings. He remembers back when you were traveling with him you had an obsessive need to straighten up everything before you fell asleep. You had to roll yourself up in your sleeping bag the same way every night. 

"Usually on my back," he said finally. "But I can sleep on my side, too."

You swallow, trying to picture yourself sleeping. For some reason you felt the urge to have control of the situation, dictating exactly how he has to sleep, too. "Can I... I'll sleep on my side if you can sleep on your back? Is that okay?"

Joel had to suppress a smirk at your request. You knew he was trying to hold back a snarky remark. Instead, he surprises you.

"Sure, you can sleep on your side," he agreed, shifting his body weight onto his back, "’n I'll sleep on my back. No big deal."

You turn to face him, tucking the pillow further under your head. You can tell his eyes are heavy from exhaustion. You know it's time to shut up, to go to sleep, but you feel the need to say something else to him. Sometimes your brain concocts questions and statements and you know you shouldn’t say them, but your mouth betrays you.  

"When was the last time you had a girl in your bed?"

Why the fuck would you ask that? You think to yourself. It fell out of your mouth like drool.

Joel's eyes widened at your blunt question, surprise and a hint of embarrassment coloring his expression. You knew he was probably just expecting you to lay here next to him, maybe roll around a bit, then sleep. But instead, it’s an interrogation.

He took a deep breath, his mind rattling around as he tried to think of a response. He didn't want to admit what his genuine answer was to you, but he too could not help himself.

"Why do you want to know that?" he asks, his voice steely.

You hate that he even responded because now you needed to defend yourself.

"I uh, don't know. I don't know why it matters."

Joel chuckled softly, noting that you probably just had a case of word vomit. You always told him you were infamous for putting your foot in your mouth, especially in awkward situations.

"Curiosity got the better of you, huh?" he asks, rubbing his face with his hands. “You just can’t help yourself, sweetheart.”

He shifted slightly, rolling onto his side to face you, his gaze studying your expression.

You smirk, grateful that he's letting it slide. When he turns onto his side and he's at eye level with you, your face drops a bit. He is ruining the vision in your head. He’s throwing a wrench in your plans.

"You're supposed to be on your back, sir."

Joel couldn't help but chuckle softly at your comment. He knew he was supposed to be on his back, but the new angle allowed him to see you better in the faint moonlight.

"Don't worry," he said, a hint of humor in his voice. "I'll turn back over in a minute. Just... enjoying the view for a bit."

You roll your eyes, lifting your hands from under the covers and lightly hitting his arm. You knew he was just fucking with you now. 

"Okay, for that, I want to know the answer to my stupid question."

Joel let out a low laugh, the sound rumbling deep in his chest. He shook his head, amused by your persistence. You start to think about it and you have never really seen him bring anyone home. Maybe it had been a very long time and he was embarrassed. 

"Alright, alright," he said, a hint of resignation in his voice. "Last time I had a girl in my bed..."

He paused for a moment, his eyes dropping to the covers, his mind racing to find the right words.

"Go on..."

Joel took another deep breath, his voice dropping even lower as he spoke.

"It's been a long time, kiddo," he admitted, his voice pierced with a bit of shame. "Almost ten years, if I'm being honest."

Your eyes widen in surprise. "No way... You've never just... got it on with someone in bed?"

Joel's face flushed with embarrassment at your blunt question, a mix of shock and slight irritation flashing across his eyes.

"Jesus, you really don't hold back, do ya?" he muttered. He shifts a bit, trying to get comfortable in a different way. He hadn't expected the conversation to turn so personal, so quickly and he did not want to face you anymore. He was mortified. 

You mentally slap yourself in the face.

"I'm sorry, I am just tired and delusional. Uh, you don't have to answer that."

Joel could practically feel the humiliation radiating off you and he too felt the exact same way. You knew how to add to an already awkward situation.

"No, no, it's fine," he reassured you, his voice a bit gentler now. "I get it. You're tired, and your filter has taken a backseat."

"Yeah, exactly..."

He shifted on the bed, turning onto his back again, his gaze shifting to the ceiling, avoiding your curious stare.

You could not help but stare at his side profile. A prominent straight nose. His downturned lips are surrounded by some fine lines that show his age. He was a beautiful man now, but you can’t help but imagine him back in his 20s. He had to have been a hit with the ladies back then.

Joel could feel your gaze on him, studying his face. And while you were not scrutinizing him, he felt like a commodity in a museum or something.  He forced himself to keep his gaze on the ceiling, refusing to meet your eyes.

"So… ten years and no sex?”

You could seriously, not help yourself.

"Correct.” He grumbles, still not meeting your stare.

"Damn, Joel." You mutter, adjusting a bit to sit up a little more on your pillow. "I seriously thought you were sleeping around the whole time we have been in Jackson.”

He finally turns your way, a bit of offense on his face. “Why would you think that?”

You shrug, not wanting to insult him. But that’s how you formulated your grudge towards him. It was easy to just chalk everything up to problems with random women you have seen around town. 

“You just give off the energy…”

“What?”

You huff, laying back on the pillow. “I don’t know, Joel! I feel like when I’m around you all the ladies think you’re handsome. They stare.”

“They are staring because you’re always following me around and we aren’t married or… together. They think we are odd.” 

You had never heard such things around Jackson, but it does sort of make sense. Everyone was probably just confused because you two lived together but were not a couple. You can admit it is bizarre, but it just did not feel like an option any other way, in your mind. So Tommy gave you two a bigger house and you set up separate rooms. 

But in actuality, Joel secretly told Tommy that he did not want you too far from him. So when Tommy couldn’t give you any other houses nearby, Joel just told him that you two would be roommates.

“Well fuck ‘em.” You mutter, trying not to sound too offended by the thought of people gossiping about you two.

Joel just nods. You settle by tucking your arm under your pillow. You yawn, the exhaustion now taking over your body. You watch Joel grab a pair of reading glasses from the side table and a book. You decide not to bother him, especially because he probably wanted to just read himself to sleep instead of being interrogated by you any further.

You close your eyes and eventually fall asleep. The deeper you get, Joel notices how your breathing pattern changes. When he’s finally ready to get some shut-eye as well, he watches as your body crawls closer to him. Your arm swings over his stomach and rests on his forearm. He is so shocked he does not move a muscle. 

You adjust some more, not knowing what you are doing. Your leg creeps up and tucks right between his. You snuggle your face right into his chest. The only movement Joel decides to make is slinging his arm over your shoulders to pull you in tighter. 

It’s the first time in years that you two slept soundly, with no interruptions. No nightmares, no sudden intrusions, nothing. Silence and snores fill the room and that’s it.

-

When you wake up, it’s slow and gradual. Your brain hardly computes that you’re laying on top of Joel’s shirtless frame, until your hand runs across his warm tummy. 

You crook your neck up, looking at the handsome man you are spreading across. 

His lips are slightly ajar, letting out hardly-there snores. They are so pretty and pink and you cannot help but touch them with feather-like fingertips. You would feel so guilty waking him up-

His eyes slowly open taking notice of your actions even though you tried not to stir him. Your eyes fly open in shock, but he does not seem very annoyed. He smiles. 

“Mornin’ darlin’,” He says in a deep sleep-laced voice. You smile back at him, loving that he decided to call you the nickname you always got giddy over. You press your fingers into his chest before replying.

“I didn’t have a nightmare.”

His hand comes up from your shoulders and tucks some hair behind your ear as he stares down at you, “That’s good kiddo. I’m glad you slept well.”

The intimacy is almost too much. The way this is how it would be if you woke up to Joel every morning. It sends your brain into overdrive and you force yourself to ruin it a bit.

“Woulda slept even better if you didn’t talk so much in your sleep.”

Joel froze for a moment, his cheeks immediately flushing pink with embarrassment. He sits up a bit more, adjusting to the brighter lighting in his room. He knew he had a problem with talking in his sleep. Ellie used to talk about it all the time. He dreaded hearing what he was saying while curled up next to you.

"Uh... what did I say?" he asked, trying to maintain his composure.

"Something about it felt so good to be pressed up against someone, I don't know..." 

You could not help yourself and started to laugh. You knew you were going to get a rise out of him. 

Joel's face flushed an even deeper shade of pink as you started to laugh, clearly amused by your joke. He could feel his heart racing in his chest, his mind racing as he tried to come up with an excuse. He was just dreaming, it was not about you. 

"W-what?" he spluttered out instead of making an excuse. "I didn't... I didn't say anything like that."

You have a shit-eating grin on your face and you press your hands on his chest to prop yourself up. You enjoyed watching him squirm.

Joel's eyes flickered down to your hands on his chest. He sickly thought they felt so right placed there. He imagined what you would look like fully mounting him. 

He tried to keep his expression neutral, but you could see through his stone-cold exterior.

"You're messing with me, aren't you?" he grumbled, a hint of suspicion in his voice.

"Fully fuckin' with you." You giggle, hoping he is not really that mad at you. 

“You’re a brat.”

You move your foot slightly, running it up his leg. It sends shockwaves up his body, having you so close and moving around so seamlessly. 

"No, you said something about how beautiful, alluring, and incredible I am. Said I was the girl of your dreams…"

"Yeah, right," he said, a hint of playful sarcasm in his voice. "You expect me to believe that?"

"So, you don't believe me?"

"No, I don't believe you," he says, his voice stern but playful. "I think you're a dirty little liar, trying to play me for a fool."

"A dirty little liar, huh? Well, it's good to know that you don't think I'm beautiful, alluring, and incredible." You giggle at his acknowledgment, knowing he caught you red-handed.

"Oh, I never said that," he smirked, a hint of teasing in his voice. "You are all of those things, darlin’. But you're also a dirty little liar who likes to play games."

"So you think I'm beautiful?" You crack, the biggest smile painted on your face. You don’t even care that he’s calling you a liar because it does not matter. Joel thinks you are beautiful. 

“‘Course I do.”

You push yourself up onto your butt, sitting crisscross next to him. He secretly wishes you were still curled up on top of him. 

“You always this nice in the morning?” You ponder, your fingertips starting to toy with the hair on his stomach. He tries not to pay mind to it, letting you have full access to touch him. 

But it’s driving him insane. The way you look freshly woken up, completely enamored with the idea of him calling you beautiful. You have some puffiness under your eyes and your lips are more swollen than usual.

“I am always nice to you.”

You let out a scoff, “No, you’re not.”

He notices the shift in your tone and starts to get defensive, “Now you’re just lyin’.” 

Joel always loved to gaslight you in these situations. You knew better than to let him get away with it, especially now. “No there was that one time you told me you did not like me and that you would never like me. How you are old enough to be my dad-”

“Because I am!”

And there’s the wall. The only constant in you two’s relationship. He was so good at throwing it up when feelings were being expressed. When vulnerability was presented, Joel could not help but reject it. 

“And the world’s fuckin’ ended, Joel! Big deal!” You almost yell, moving your hands from him. 

Why does he already miss your hands?

He huffs, crossing his arms over his soft chest. “We have had this conversation for the last 10 years.’M not sure why we keep rehashing it.”

“And every time you turn me down it’s another fuckin’ stab in the heart.”

“You know why we can’t,” He practically growls. You can not stand to even look at him anymore with your bitterness and irritation taking over. 

“Whatever, Joel.” 

As soon as you say it, you’re already leaving his room and heading to your own. When you slam the door, you hope you have made your point. You want to scream and punch a hole in the wall, but instead you just furiously stomp around the room and grab your clothes. You had patrol at noon, so you needed to get to the mess hall before breakfast was over. You try not to cry as you strip down and get dressed.

Joel sits in bed, reeling. He hates that it has become a conversation every six months. He hated that rejecting you always sent you into a spiral of hating him for extended periods. It’s not that he did not want you, it was simply just not in the cards. He was too old to be in love. He was too old to play house with you. He just could not submit to the idea of leading you on, especially because you had so much more life to live. 

He finally works up the courage to get out of bed and put on some clothes. He opts for putting on his typical jeans and thick flannel. It was getting colder and he knew by the end of the winter, you would end up with half his flannels anyway, so he had to enjoy them while he had them. 

You storm downstairs, going to the back door for your boots when you spot him in the kitchen. 

“You got pat-”

“Yes.” You respond quickly, shoving your foot into your shoes. He stands behind you with a mug full of tea, watching your every move. 

“Who are you-”

“Jesse.”

He was asking his usual questions, which you were not in the mood to answer. 

“Hey, can you-”

You snap your head back at him, giving him the glare you gave him as a warning usually. By now, he takes it as a hint and backs off. But not this time. 

“Can I what?”

He rolls his eyes, “Can you fuckin’ not be a brat about this?”

You wish your glare came with knives. If that were the case, Joel Miller would be dead on his kitchen floor. 

You are so thrown off by the question that you just watch him get angrier when you do not respond. 

“Are you serious, right now?” You press, keeping your voice from cracking. 

He brings the mug up to his mouth, taking an obnoxious sip. When he pulls the mug away, you notice how steaming it is. “You always pull this shit-”

“No, you do! You do this shit to me every fuckin’ time, Joel. You sweet talk me, make me feel comfortable, have me lapping everything up in the palm of your hands, and then you snatch it away. Then have the audacity to get mad at me!”

You are yelling now and it is throwing him off. Joel knows better than to interrupt you like you do to him. You were the kind of person who would calm down if you felt heard. 

The way he knew you down to your core made this all so painful. Because if he was not so stubborn and true to his convictions, he would have fucked you the moment you touched his lips this morning. 

“I ain’t tryin’ to make this harder than-” “Too fuckin’ late.”

You think back to the moment last night when you knew you were going to hurt your own feelings by sleeping with him. You knew better, yet here you are, still blaming him for your stupidity.

He stands there, still holding his mug, staring you down like a wounded doe who got pierced with an arrow. He feels guilty like he misled you. Before he can say anything, you are lacing up your boots and leaving out the front door without another word. 

-

All day long, Joel wanders around the house trying to get rid of the pit in his stomach. Nothing works. A shower. Reading a book. Cutting wood. As soon as he tried to use laundry as a distraction, he reached into his hamper and found one of your t-shirts. He held it close and smelled it, trying to wrap his head around how he got here. 

You spend all day, silently fuming on horseback with Jesse. When he tries to get you to open up, you ice him out and tell him to focus on the trail in front of him. 

You get back by sundown, the sun setting making it a lot chiller than you expected. You decide to take the long way home, wanting to avoid being home for as long as possible. You were not ready to face Joel, let alone share a space with him. But unfortunately, during your patrol, you fell into some mud and needed a shower. The more time it spent on your clothes and body, the grosser you felt. 

You open the front door, announcing that you are home. It was a habit you and Joel developed after you both pulled guns on each other during late-night arrivals. 

You hear Joel mumble something from the living room, but you do not stop to listen and continue on your way upstairs to the bathroom. 

You strip down as soon as the door is closed, tossing your muddy clothing into a hamper in the corner. You would get them washed and hung as soon as you shower off. 

You hear Joel’s footsteps creaking around the upstairs hallway as you scrub your body with homemade soap and warm water. 

When you start to dry yourself off, you hear Joel grunting something in the hallway. You wrap yourself in a towel and peek your head out the door. He’s on his hands and knees wiping something off the hardwood. “What’s goin’ on?”

He looks up at you, your body only covered in a bleach-stained blue towel. It makes his head spin. He can’t even be mad that you tracked in mud. 

He swallows, gripping the cloth he’s using tighter. “You got mud everywhere.”

You step out, not even really thinking about the fact that you are not properly dressed in front of Joel. You were still mad at him, anyway. Who cares what he thinks?

“Sorry, I could’ve cleaned it up.”

He returns to wiping the wood, “It’s fine, I got it, kiddo.”

You accept his response and move on to your room, but the draft you leave behind drifts to Joel’s nostrils. Your soap smells like lavender and it always sends his mind racing when you are fresh from a shower. He clears his throat, trying to get through the emotions filling his chest. 

But it’s been like this all day. You’re all around him even when you’re not physically here. How can he get away from you? Why is he trying to run in the first place?

He’s on his knees in your hallway, cleaning up your mess, sniffing the air you leave behind because he’s fucking in love with you and he cannot help himself anymore. 

Joel starts to think about how peaceful he felt having you next to him last night and how he would love to feel that way every night. For once he’s not thinking about what everyone else would think. For once he’s thinking selfishly and caving into every desire he has ever pondered about you. How would you feel under him? How would your lips feel pressed against his pulse point? 

His body was on fire, thinking about you. 

You are fiddling with some clothes in your dresser after you flick on the overhead light. You do not hear him come into your room behind you. 

You are so wrapped up in your own thoughts that when he clears his throat to announce he’s in your room, you scream. Loud. 

“For cryin’ out loud, woman!” 

You grip your towel tighter when you turn and see him standing at your mercy. 

“Joel, what the fuck?” You yell, gesturing to the fact that you are practically naked. He does not care, of course, and his ears are ringing from your piercing scream. He gathers himself as you shift back, trying to create some distance from him.

He is trying not to gawk at the fact that your grip on the towel against your chest is only pushing up your cleavage. He’s biting back everything. “Can we talk?”

“Talk about what? The fact you crept into my room when I was trying to change? Are we past boundaries now?” 

You are pissed, trying not to rattle off another million things to discuss with him. He’s only really talking about one thing. 

He scoffs at your last statement. “Boundaries were already out the window when you crawled into bed with me last night.”

Silence fills the room as you completely stop breathing. The anger you originally felt dissipates. 

“Joel-“

“I ain’t doin’ this back and forth anymore,” He starts shifting in his spot, unsure if he really should be doing this. “I can’t live how I've been livin’. Somethin’s gotta give.”

You furrow your eyebrows, confused. 

“You are the one who won’t give, Joel.”

As soon as you say it, he practically drags himself over to you. Completely destitute. You have never seen him look so desperate before. You can tell that he’s been at war with himself ever since you left this morning. His eyes never lied.

His hand creeps up your bare arm, leaving goosebumps in his wake. 

But then you remember his words from this morning. You start feeling like this is just a moment of weakness for him and that he will regret it later. You had to stop it before it was too late. You did not want to deal with the consequences. 

“Joel, you said we can’t-”

“Fuck what I said,” He cuts you off, “Do you want this?”

You stare into those brown eyes, searching for a sign of hesitance. You cannot believe Joel is being this vulnerable with you. 

But, you do want him. God, you have wanted him so badly for so long. You have searched for him in every man you have ever been with since knowing him. 

Your mouth opens but nothing comes out. He takes note of your parted lips, every word failing you at that moment.

“Darlin’-”

“Yes,” You finally manage. “Yes, I do want this.”

It’s all he needs. He closes the gap between you two by wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you into his space. His lips crash onto yours, not wasting another breath of air waiting to indulge in his sickest fantasies. 

You are all Joel ever dreamed about. He knew that once he caved and physically gave in, his world would be shot and everything would revolve around you. For years it had been a teetering object on a cliff, one nudge would have him falling. He always managed. But now, he was falling head first. 

His lips move so perfectly with your own. Your hand released your towel and found the tufts of his curls at the base of his head. You did not care that the article pooled around your feet, leaving you completely bare in front of Joel. You have wanted this all along. To be uncovered, to be stripped down to the rawest form. He broke the kiss briefly just to scan your naked body, his forehead pressed against your own. 

“Fuck, you are so beautiful.”

Your heart stutters as his hand traces your stomach down to your hips, all the way down to your ass. He stops there, grabbing a handful. 

“I need you,” You choke out before pressing your lips to his over and over again. “Right now.”

He mumbles “jump” into your mouth and you do so, his hands working quickly to hike you up onto his waist. He carries you to your bed, wasting no time dropping you onto your back. 

He cannot get enough of your soft, swollen lips. Every time he pulls away slightly, he dives in again even more aggressively than the last time. 

You are so hypnotized by the way he feels on top of you. In the light, he seems so much broader than he was last night. He’s still fully clothed, to your dismay. You start to tug at his shirt, motioning him to remove the articles that are in your way. 

He throws off his shirt before he stands up at the edge of the bed and pushes down his jeans. 

“Joel… I-“

He just shuts you up with another passionate kiss. It’s all tongue and teeth like he’s trying to melt into your mouth. Your hands trail up his back, gripping onto his shoulders, holding him down so he is pressing against your nude body. 

“God, I have wanted this for so long,” He sputters, trying not to sound too desperate. “Been wanting this.”

That’s when his hand reaches down between your thighs and gathers the wetness your slit has to offer. His fingers dance across it, starting from the top all the way to your spongy entrance. 

“Please, Joel.”

He loves the lust-laced tone you speak with when you say his name. It almost makes him cum there and then. 

You watch as he makes his way down your body, peppering kisses from your shoulder to your hip. When he parts your legs, you feel quite exposed. The adrenaline of being so spread for him manifests into a moan. 

“You are divine, baby.”

The use of that adjective is so-not-Joel that it makes you giggle. He notes your reaction and decides to sink down into you. When his mouth gets close to your core, it’s no longer a laughing matter. 

He uses his fingers again, using them to spread open your pussy lips. He cannot keep his eyes away from how dripping you are. “This all for me?”

“Y-yes, Joel.”

“God, I was a fuckin’ fool for so long. Could’ve had her earlier and I never fuckin’ caved. Such an idiot.”

Him giving your cunt pronouns was enough to have you throwing your head back and shuttering. His touch was magnetic like he knew exactly what buttons to push as he rubbed his fingers and palm over your core. 

“Yeah, you’ve been missin’ out. Every night…” You swallow before looking down at the man that is enamored with your pussy, “E-every night I would lay in this bed, fuckin’ myself just thinkin’ about you.”

He growls at the statement, before teasingly kissing your clit. “Every night, hm, kiddo?”

“God, yes.”

Your eyes squeeze shut as he leans forward more and dives in. His nose is pressed firmly against the top of your pussy, nudging forward every time his tongue enters your hole. When that motion became consistent, you began to note the rumblings in the pit of your stomach. A familiar build-up that you managed to get when you were playing with yourself. 

His fingers move in tandem with his lips and tongue. While his middle and pointer finger slide in and out of you, his lips wrap around your clit. It’s overwhelming and all-consuming. 

You do not know where to center yourself, so your hands grip the bed sheets you were completely soaking as Joel pulls the first orgasm out of you. 

“That’s it, baby, she’s cryin’ for me, hm?”

You hardly make a noise, the orgasm is so earth-shattering that you just writhe on the mattress. 

“Oh my god…” You groan, finally able to catch your breath. When Joel removes his fingers from you, you watch as he slowly brings them up to his lips.

When he inserts them in his mouth, you gawk at him, unsure how to react. He watches your expression and chuckles darkly.

“Mm, never seen a man enjoy the taste of ya?”

You shake your head. “Never expected to hear those words leave your mouth, either.”

“Wait ‘til you hear what else I got to say.”

He stands up beside the bed, grabs your hips, and brings them to the edge. He is tossing you around with ease, bringing your lower body flush with his. He yanks down his briefs, revealing himself to you. You instantly take notice of how well-endowed he is. You never thought you would ever be close to his cock, let alone have it lining up at your entrance. 

“Joel…“ You stop him with your small voice, but still welcoming him in with your legs opened wide, “I don’t know if it will fit.”

He grins, “It will, baby. Just relax for me, okay?”

You watch him slide his member along your center, the feeling so blissfully overstimulating. You whine a bit, raising your hips to his. 

But Joel continues his torture, enjoying the way you’re squirming under him. The way your eyebrows are knitted together, your eyes shut as you grind up into him. It’s the prettiest sight. 

“Ready?”

Your eyes fly open as you watch him ease his way into your core, the sound of squelching filling the room. You don’t think you have ever been this wet for someone. 

“Oh my fuckin’ god, Joel…”

He smiles as he inches in, “Squeezin’ my cock so good, darlin’.”

When he’s fully sheathed inside, he tests the waters by drawing out slowly. You roll your hips in a circle, trying to feel out every inch of him. He fits, but you know once he starts to move faster, the stretch will become overwhelming. 

He’s trying to focus and not blow his load immediately. You look so beautiful below him, your tits slowly shifting back and forth every time he draws back and forth. He reaches out, wanting to feel the flesh between his fingers. God, he craved every inch of you, he realizes. 

You open your legs as far as you can, letting him hit you at a different angle. The movement allows him to slip in a bit more seamlessly, so when he speeds up his thrusts, you don’t feel like you will completely split in half. 

He brings your leg up to hips, and feeling your soft delicate skin against him makes him lose all sense. His hips snap faster the more you moan out for him. 

“Fuckin’ Christ, girl. I can’t believe I was missin’ out on this cunt,” He babbles, “Need this cunt every day from now on. Gonna have you all to myself every night.”

You are too fucked out of your mind to read into those implications.

“‘M all yours, Joel.”

He smiles, slowing down a bit. “Keep talkin’ like that and ‘ll finish a lot sooner than you.”

You sit up a bit, your eyes flickering over his entire body. He notices you checking out his nude frame, which makes him feel a bit more bold. He leans down, capturing your lips in a hungry kiss. You love the way his tongue slips into your mouth so effortlessly. When he opens his mouth, his facial hair tickles your nose a bit which makes you smile. When his hips pick back up to a quicker pace, it sends you gasping into his mouth.

“Please, Joel,” You whine, that familiar build starts up but this time it’s like a freight train. Moving so quickly down every nerve ending in your body. “I’m gonna cum.”

“‘M with you, darlin’. Soak this dick. I’m right behind ya.”

His dirty talk causes the crash. Your body practically lifts off the mattress. You cry out so loud you are sure a neighbor could hear you. You try to gain your bearings, but you are panting like you just ran a mile. 

Joel fucks you through it, but the restriction your pussy is putting on his cock sends him over the edge. His hips stutter into yours, his seed emptying into your spent hole. He just keeps repeating your name as his thrusts slow down.

He has never had such a visceral orgasm in his life. His knees are weak and can hardly keep up his weight. He practically falls on top of you, which does not offend you at all. His warm sweaty body on top of you is almost reassuring. 

“You okay, kiddo?” He finally mutters as his hot breath fans the nape of your neck. You just nod, bringing your hand up to his salt and pepper hair. You tug lightly, smiling to yourself. 

“I’m more than okay.”

He finally sits up, his cock spilling out of you as he adjusts his position. Your hole drips a mixture of cum onto your newly clean sheets, but you could care less. It’s just another thing to hand wash tonight.

Joel stumbles to the middle of the room, picking up your bath towel. He uses it to wipe himself up before coming over to you. Your legs are still slightly apart so he decides to clean you up a bit. He’s gentle, knowing that you are probably still sensitive.

Once he finishes up, he crawls next to you as you continue to recover. Your bones felt like jello so standing up to adjust yourself was not an option.

So instead of facing him, you stare up at your ceiling fan as his eyes lock onto every detail of your profile. It brings him back to one night you two shared under the stars a couple of years ago. It was his turn to keep watch so you curled up in your sleeping bag by the fire. He admired you from across the flames, the orange hues lit up every angle of your face. It was at that moment that Joel realized that he could not picture his life without you. You had weaseled your way into every facet of his life and he used to resent the impact you had on him. You were younger, more patient but still stubborn like him. You made him laugh, like genuinely laugh, for the first time since the infection. While you may have been a bit impulsive with your emotions, he envied the way you could say exactly what you were thinking. 

Joel did not want to love you, but it was impossible not to. 

You finally look over at him, noticing the softness in his gaze.

“Are you okay?” You pose, scrunching your nose. 

He gives you a toothless smile, his eyes crinkling a bit. “I just can’t wait to sleep next to you for the rest of my life.”

tags of people I love and who may wanna read (no pressure I just love u) (some of u did ask tho) : @ashleyfilm @hockeyhughes @pedrospookie @guiltyasdave @amanitacowboy @myownwholewildworld

[pucksandpower]

Little Star

Max Verstappen x Leclerc!Reader

Summary: you’ve grown used to being overshadowed by your older brother, merely a distant star that seems dull in comparison to the sun of Maranello … and then Max happens

Based on this request

The sun dips low on the horizon, casting long shadows across the paddock of the Autodromo Nazionale Monza. The air still buzzes with excitement from the day’s race, but behind the Ferrari hospitality unit, a different energy permeates the air.

You lean against the cool metal wall, sliding down until you’re sitting on the concrete, knees pulled to your chest. Tears stream silently down your face as you struggle to catch your breath between sobs. The sounds of celebration echo in the distance, a stark contrast to your solitude.

Footsteps approach, and you hastily wipe at your eyes, hoping to erase any evidence of your breakdown. A familiar figure rounds the corner, stopping short when he spots you.

“Hey,” Max Verstappen says, his brow furrowing with concern. “Are you alright?”

You force a smile, but it doesn’t reach your eyes. “I’m fine,” you insist, your voice wavering slightly. “Just ... needed some air.”

Max doesn’t buy it for a second. He crouches down beside you, his blue eyes searching your face. “You don’t look fine,” he says gently. “What’s going on?”

You bite your lip, debating whether to confide in him. After a moment, you sigh. “It’s stupid,” you mumble.

“If it’s making you cry, it’s not stupid,” Max counters. He settles down next to you, his shoulder brushing yours. “Come on, talk to me.”

You take a shaky breath. “It’s my birthday,” you admit quietly.

Max’s eyebrows shoot up. “Today? Why aren’t you celebrating?”

A bitter laugh escapes your lips. “Because everyone forgot,” you explain, fresh tears welling up. “Charles won the race, and ... I’m happy for him, I really am. But it’s like I don’t even exist when he’s around, you know?”

Max nods slowly, understanding dawning on his face. “That must be really tough,” he says softly.

You nod, sniffling. “I’ve always felt like I was in his shadow, but today ... it just hit me harder, I guess. Even my mom forgot.”

“That’s not okay,” Max says firmly. “Your birthday should be special, no matter what else is happening.”

You shrug, picking at a loose thread on your jeans. “It’s fine. I’m used to it.”

“No, it’s not fine,” Max insists. He stands up suddenly, determination etched on his face. “Wait here. I’ll be right back.”

Before you can protest, he’s gone, jogging away towards the paddock. You’re left alone again, wondering what he’s up to.

True to his word, Max returns a few minutes later, slightly out of breath and holding something behind his back. “Close your eyes,” he instructs with a grin.

Curious, you comply. There’s a rustling sound, and then Max’s voice rings out, clear and slightly off-key: “Happy birthday to you ...”

Your eyes fly open in surprise. Max stands before you, holding a small cupcake with a single candle stuck in the frosting. His face is illuminated by the flickering flame as he continues to sing.

“Happy birthday to you, happy birthday dear Y/N, happy birthday to you!”

Emotion wells up in your chest, a lump forming in your throat. “Max,” you whisper, overwhelmed. “You didn’t have to do this.”

He crouches down, carefully balancing the cupcake. “Of course I did,” he says softly. “Everyone deserves to feel special on their birthday. Now make a wish and blow out your candle.”

You close your eyes, thinking for a moment before leaning forward to extinguish the tiny flame. When you open them again, Max is beaming at you.

“What did you wish for?” He asks, settling back down beside you and offering you the cupcake.

You shake your head, a small smile tugging at your lips. “Can’t tell you, or it won’t come true.”

Max laughs, nudging your shoulder playfully. “Fair enough. So, twenty-two, huh? How does it feel to be so old?”

You roll your eyes, but can’t help chuckling. “Says the guy who’s practically ancient at twenty-six.”

“Hey!” Max protests, feigning offense. “I’ll have you know I’m in my prime.”

The banter feels natural, and you find yourself relaxing for the first time all day. You take a bite of the cupcake, savoring the sweetness. “This is really good,” you mumble around a mouthful of frosting. “Where did you even find it?”

Max grins mischievously. “I have my sources. Can’t reveal all my secrets, can I?”

You laugh, shaking your head. “Thank you, Max. Really. This ... it means a lot.”

His expression softens. “You’re welcome. I’m sorry the rest of your family forgot. That’s not fair to you.”

You sigh, your momentary happiness fading slightly. “It’s not their fault. Charles had a big win today, and-”

“Stop,” Max interrupts gently. “You don’t have to make excuses for them. Your feelings are valid.”

You blink, surprised by his directness. “I ... I guess I’m just used to it,” you admit. “It’s always been about Charles. Even before he got into F1, he was the golden child. I love him, don’t get me wrong, but sometimes ...”

“Sometimes you want to be seen too,” Max finishes for you. You nod, grateful that he understands.

“Exactly. And it’s not just Charles. Arthur’s always been following in his footsteps, and Lorenzo ... well, he’s the oldest. I’m just ... there.”

Max frowns. “That’s not true. You’re your own person, with your own talents and dreams. Have you talked to them about how you feel?”

You shake your head. “I don’t want to make them feel bad. Especially Charles. He works so hard, and he deserves his success.”

“His success doesn’t diminish your worth,” Max says firmly. “You deserve to be celebrated too.”

Tears prick at your eyes again, but for a different reason this time. “Thank you,” you whisper. “I don’t think anyone’s ever put it quite like that before.”

Max smiles softly. “Well, it’s true. And for what it’s worth, I think you’re pretty amazing.”

A blush creeps up your cheeks. “You barely know me,” you point out.

“I know enough,” Max counters. “I know you’re kind enough to put your family’s happiness before your own. I know you’re strong enough to handle being overlooked without becoming bitter. And I know you’ve got a great taste in cupcakes.”

You laugh, the sound bubbling up from deep in your chest. “Well, when you put it like that ...”

Max grins, clearly pleased to have made you smile. “So, birthday girl, what do you want to do now? The night is young, and I happen to know where they keep the good champagne around here.”

You hesitate, glancing towards the paddock where you can still hear the sounds of celebration. “I don’t know ... I should probably go find my family.”

Max raises an eyebrow. “On your birthday? Come on, live a little. They can wait.”

A spark of rebellion ignites in your chest. “You know what? You’re right. Let’s do it.”

Max jumps to his feet, offering you his hand. “That’s the spirit! First stop, champagne. Then, who knows? Maybe we’ll steal a golf cart and go joyriding around the track.”

You take his hand, allowing him to pull you up. “Is that even allowed?”

Max’s eyes twinkle with mischief. “Probably not. But it’s your birthday, so I think we can bend the rules a little.”

As you follow Max towards the paddock, a warmth spreads through your chest that has nothing to do with the lingering summer heat. For the first time in years, you feel seen. Appreciated. Special.

“Hey, Max?” You say, causing him to pause and look back at you.

“Yeah?”

You smile, genuine and bright. “Thank you. For everything.”

Max’s expression softens. “Anytime,” he says softly. “Now come on, birthday girl. Let’s make this a night to remember.”

As you walk side by side into the fading light, you can’t help but feel that this birthday might just be the start of something new. Something exciting. Something uniquely yours.

And for once, you’re not thinking about Charles, or Arthur, or anyone else. You’re just thinking about you, and the possibilities that stretch out before you like an open road.

Happy birthday indeed.

***

The Ferrari hospitality suite thrums with energy, laughter and music spilling out into the warm Italian night. Charles Leclerc stands at the center of it all, a wide grin plastered across his face as he basks in the glow of his hard-fought victory. Champagne flows freely, and the air is thick with the scent of celebration.

“To Charles!” Someone shouts, raising a glass. The room erupts in cheers, and Charles feels a swell of pride in his chest.

“Speech! Speech!” The crowd chants, and Charles laughs, holding up his hands in mock surrender.

“Alright, alright,” he concedes, clearing his throat. “I just want to say thank you to everyone here. This win ... it’s not just mine. It’s ours. The team, the mechanics, the engineers, the strategists ... we did this together.”

More cheers erupt, and Charles feels a hand clap him on the back. He turns to see his teammate grinning broadly.

“Well said, amigo,” Carlos says, slinging an arm around Charles’ shoulders. “You drove like a champion today.”

Charles beams, the praise from his teammate adding to the euphoria of the moment. “Thanks, Carlos. Couldn’t have done it without you pushing me.”

Carlos laughs, taking a swig of his drink. “Always happy to provide motivation. Oh, hey, before I forget — can you pass on my birthday wishes to Y/N? I meant to find her earlier, but things got a bit crazy.”

The words hit Charles like a bucket of ice water. His smile freezes, his eyes widening in horror. “W-what?” He stammers, hoping he’s misheard.

Carlos frowns, noticing the sudden change in Charles’ demeanor. “Your sister? It’s her birthday today, right? Her 22nd?”

Charles feels the room spin around him. How could he have forgotten? His little sister’s birthday, on the same day as his big win. The realization crashes over him in waves of guilt and shame.

“Charles?” Carlos prompts, concern evident in his voice. “You okay, mate?”

Charles shakes his head, trying to clear the fog of shock. “I ... I forgot,” he whispers, more to himself than to Carlos. “How could I forget?”

Carlos’ eyes widen in understanding. “Oh, shit,” he mutters. “You didn’t remember?”

Charles runs a hand through his hair, panic rising in his chest. “I was so focused on the race, and then the win ... God, I’m such an idiot.”

He scans the room frantically, hoping against hope that he’ll spot you among the partygoers. But of course, you’re not there. Why would you be, when your own family forgot your birthday?

“I need to find her,” Charles says, already moving towards the exit. “I need to apologize.”

Carlos nods, squeezing Charles’ shoulder supportively. “Go. I’ll cover for you here if anyone asks.”

Charles barely hears him, his mind racing as he pushes through the crowd. He bursts out of the hospitality suite, the cool night air a stark contrast to the stuffy interior.

“Y/N!” He calls out, his voice echoing in the near-empty paddock. But there’s no response.

Panic rising, Charles pulls out his phone, fumbling with the screen as he opens his contacts. He hits your name, holding the phone to his ear as it rings.

Once. Twice. Three times. Then, your voicemail.

“Hey, this is Y/N. Leave a message!”

Charles swears under his breath, ending the call. He tries again, and again, but each time it goes straight to voicemail.

“Come on, come on,” he mutters, pacing back and forth. Where could you be? Who would you have gone to when your family let you down?

A thought strikes him, and he quickly dials another number.

“Hello?” Arthur’s sleepy voice answers.

“Arthur!” Charles practically shouts. “Is Y/N with you?”

There’s a pause, then confusion in Arthur’s tone. “No? Why would she be? Aren’t you guys celebrating?”

Charles feels his heart sink even further. “Arthur, it’s her birthday. We forgot.”

“Shit,” Arthur breathes. “How did we ... God, we’re terrible brothers.”

“I know, I know,” Charles says, the guilt eating away at him. “I’m trying to find her now. Can you call Maman and Lorenzo, see if they’ve heard from her?”

“Yeah, of course,” Arthur agrees quickly. “I’ll call you back if I hear anything.”

Charles ends the call, his mind whirling. Where else could you be? He tries to think back to earlier in the day, wondering if he’d seen you at all after the race. But everything is a blur of champagne and celebration, and he realizes with a sickening jolt that he can’t remember the last time he actually spoke to you.

He’s about to start knocking on motorhome doors when another idea strikes him. Quickly, he opens the Life360 app on his phone. The family had started using it a few years back, mainly to keep track of each other during race weekends.

Charles waits impatiently for the app to load, praying that it will show your location. But when the map finally appears, his heart sinks. Your icon is greyed out, with a message underneath: “Location permissions turned off.”

“No, no, no,” Charles mutters, refreshing the app desperately. But the result is the same. You’ve deliberately turned off your location tracking.

The realization hits him like a punch to the gut. You didn’t just disappear — you chose to be unfindable. And it’s all his fault.

Charles slumps against the nearest wall, sliding down until he’s sitting on the ground. He puts his head in his hands, overwhelmed by the magnitude of his mistake.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N,” he whispers into the night. “I’m so, so sorry.”

As he sits there, memories flood his mind. Your proud smile when he won his first karting race. The way you’d curl up next to him during thunderstorms, seeking comfort. Your unwavering support through every step of his career, even when it meant less attention for you.

And how had he repaid that loyalty? By forgetting the one day that was supposed to be about you.

Charles’ phone buzzes, and he snatches it up eagerly. But it’s just a text from his mother:

Haven’t heard from Y/N. Is everything okay?

He stares at the message, unsure how to respond. How can he explain that he’s lost his little sister on her birthday?

Another text comes through, this time from Lorenzo:

No luck here either. What’s going on?

Charles takes a deep breath, steeling himself. He has to tell them the truth, no matter how much it hurts.

He creates a group chat with his mom, Lorenzo, and Arthur, his fingers shaking slightly as he types:

We forgot Y/N’s birthday. All of us. She’s not answering her phone and her location is turned off. I can’t find her anywhere.

The responses come in rapid succession:

Maman: Oh no. How could we forget?

Lorenzo: Shit. Have you checked with her friends?

Arthur: I’m on my way to the track now. We’ll find her.

Charles feels a mix of relief and shame. At least now everyone knows, and they can all work together to make things right. But the fact remains that they let you down in the first place.

He’s about to reply when he spots a familiar figure walking across the paddock. Max Verstappen, looking slightly disheveled and ... was that a touch of glitter on his cheek?

Without thinking, Charles jumps to his feet and runs over to his rival.

“Max!” He calls out, slightly out of breath. “Have you seen Y/N?”

Max turns, surprise evident on his face. Then, something else flickers in his eyes. Anger? Disappointment? It’s gone too quickly for Charles to be sure.

“Why?” Max asks, his tone cooler than usual. “Suddenly remembered she exists?”

The words sting, but Charles knows he deserves them. “Please, Max. I know I messed up. We all did. But I need to find her, to apologize.”

Max studies him for a long moment, as if weighing his options. Finally, he sighs. “She’s safe. That’s all you need to know right now.”

Relief washes over Charles, quickly followed by confusion. “You’ve seen her? Where is she?”

“I’m not telling you that,” Max says firmly. “She needed space, and after what happened, I don’t blame her.”

Charles feels a flare of frustration. “She’s my sister. I have a right to know where she is.”

“No,” Max counters, his blue eyes flashing. “You had a responsibility to remember her birthday. You didn’t. So now, you don’t get to demand anything.”

The words hit Charles like a slap. He opens his mouth to argue, then closes it again. Max is right, as much as it pains him to admit it.

“Is she ... is she okay?” Charles asks quietly, all fight leaving him.

Max’s expression softens slightly. “She will be. Eventually. But Charles, you really hurt her. All of you did.”

Charles nods, swallowing hard against the lump in his throat. “I know. God, I know. I just want to make it right.”

“Then give her time,” Max advises. “And when she’s ready to talk, really listen to her. Don’t make excuses. Don’t try to justify it. Just listen.”

Charles nods again, feeling utterly defeated. “Will you ... will you tell her I’m sorry? That we’re all sorry?”

Max hesitates, then nods. “I will. But Charles? You need to do better. She deserves better.”

With that, Max turns and walks away, leaving Charles alone with his thoughts and regrets.

Charles pulls out his phone again, looking at the group chat with his family. He types out a message, his heart heavy:

Y/N is safe. A friend is looking out for her. We need to give her space, but when she’s ready to talk, we all need to be there. Really be there. We’ve got a lot to make up for.

As he hits send, Charles makes a silent promise to himself and to you. He’ll do better. He’ll be the brother you deserve. And somehow, someway, he’ll make this right.

But for now, all he can do is wait, and hope that you’ll find it in your heart to forgive them all.

***

The city lights twinkle below as Max leads you into his penthouse suite, the door clicking shut behind you. The space is modern and sleek, with floor-to-ceiling windows offering a breathtaking view of Milan’s skyline.

“Make yourself at home,” Max says, gesturing around the room. “Are you hungry? I can order some room service if you want.”

You shake your head, still feeling slightly overwhelmed by the events of the day. “No, thanks. I’m okay.”

Max nods, studying your face with concern. “You sure? It’s been a long day.”

A small smile tugs at your lips. “Yeah, you could say that again.”

There’s a moment of awkward silence before Max clears his throat. “So, um, you can take the bed. I’ll crash on the couch.”

“Oh, no,” you protest immediately. “I can’t kick you out of your own bed. I’ll take the couch.”

Max shakes his head firmly. “Absolutely not. It’s your birthday. You get the bed.”

You bite your lip, an idea forming. “We could ... share? I mean, if that’s okay with you. The bed looks plenty big enough.”

Max’s eyes widen slightly, a faint blush creeping up his neck. “Are you sure? I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“I’m sure,” you say, surprising yourself with your boldness. “Unless it makes you uncomfortable?”

“No, no,” Max says quickly. “I’m fine with it if you are.”

You nod, and another silence falls. Max runs a hand through his hair, looking suddenly unsure of himself.

“Do you want to watch a movie or something?” he suggests. “Or we could just talk, if you prefer.”

“Talking sounds nice,” you admit. “I’m not really in the mood for a movie.”

Max nods, gesturing towards the bed. “Shall we?”

You both settle onto the massive king-size bed, sitting cross-legged and facing each other. It’s oddly intimate, and you feel a flutter of nerves in your stomach.

“So,” Max begins, his blue eyes fixed on you. “Tell me something about yourself that isn’t related to racing or your family.”

You pause, caught off guard by the question. It’s been so long since someone asked about you, just you.

“Well,” you start hesitantly, “I’m actually studying to become an astrophysicist.”

Max’s eyebrows shoot up. “Seriously? That’s incredible! Why astrophysics?”

The enthusiasm in his voice makes you smile. “I’ve always been fascinated by space, you know? The idea that there’s so much out there we don’t understand ... it’s exciting.”

“That’s amazing,” Max says, genuinely impressed. “What kind of stuff are you studying right now?”

You laugh softly. “Are you sure you want to know? I might bore you with all the technical details.”

Max leans forward, his expression earnest. “Try me. I want to hear all about it.”

Encouraged by his interest, you begin to explain your current research project. As you talk, your hands move animatedly, your eyes lighting up with passion. Max listens intently, asking questions and showing genuine curiosity.

“... and that’s why understanding dark matter is so crucial,” you finish, slightly out of breath. “Sorry, I kind of went off on a tangent there.”

Max shakes his head, smiling warmly. “Don’t apologize. It’s fascinating. I had no idea you were into all this. Why haven’t I heard about it before?”

Your smile falters slightly. “Oh, well ... it doesn’t really come up much. Everyone’s usually more interested in talking about racing.”

Max frowns. “But this is incredible. You’re studying to unravel the mysteries of the universe. That’s way cooler than driving in circles.”

You laugh, but there’s a hint of sadness in it. “Try telling that to my family. I think they see it as more of a hobby than a career path.”

“What?” Max looks genuinely shocked. “How can they not be incredibly proud? This is huge!”

You shrug, picking at a loose thread on the comforter. “I guess it’s just not as exciting as F1? It’s okay, though. I’m used to it.”

Max shakes his head firmly. “No, it’s not okay. Y/N, you’re brilliant. Your family should be shouting it from the rooftops.”

Tears prick at your eyes, and you blink them back hastily. “Thanks, Max. That ... that means a lot.”

He reaches out, hesitating for a moment before placing his hand over yours. “I mean it. And for what it’s worth, I think what you’re doing is incredible.”

You look up, meeting his gaze. There’s a warmth there, an understanding that makes your heart skip a beat. Without really thinking about it, you shift closer to him.

Max seems to take this as an invitation, because he moves closer too. Soon, you’re sitting side by side, your shoulders touching.

“So,” you say, trying to lighten the mood. “What about you? Any secret passions outside of racing?”

Max chuckles. “Nothing as impressive as astrophysics, I’m afraid. But I do enjoy sim racing in my spare time.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Isn’t that just more racing?”

“Hey, it’s completely different,” Max protests with a grin. “In sim racing, I can drive any car on any track. Even ones that don’t exist in real life.”

“Okay, okay,” you concede, laughing. “Tell me more about it.”

As Max launches into an explanation of his favorite sim racing setups, you find yourself relaxing more and more. The conversation flows easily, punctuated by laughter and playful debates.

Without really noticing, you both shift positions throughout the night. Max leans back against the headboard, and you mirror him. Your shoulders are pressed together, and you can feel the warmth radiating from his body.

“... and that’s why I think pineapple absolutely belongs on pizza,” Max finishes, looking at you expectantly.

You shake your head, grinning. “I can’t believe I’m hearing this from a world champion. Your taste buds clearly can’t be trusted.”

“Oh, come on,” Max laughs, nudging your shoulder with his. “Don’t knock it till you’ve tried it.”

“I have tried it,” you insist. “It’s an abomination.”

Max clutches his chest in mock offense. “You wound me, Y/N. And here I thought we were becoming friends.”

The word ‘friends’ sends an odd pang through your chest. Is that what this is? It feels like more, somehow.

As if reading your thoughts, Max’s expression softens. He reaches out, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. The gesture is so gentle, so intimate, that it takes your breath away.

“Y/N,” he says softly. “I’m really glad you’re here.”

You swallow hard, your heart racing. “Me too,” you whisper.

There’s a moment of charged silence, and then Max is leaning in. You meet him halfway, your lips meeting in a soft, tentative kiss.

It’s brief, just a fleeting press of lips, but it sends sparks shooting through your entire body. When you pull back, Max is looking at you with a mixture of wonder and uncertainty.

“Was that okay?” He asks, his voice husky.

You nod, not trusting yourself to speak. Instead, you lean in again, capturing his lips in another kiss. This one is deeper, more assured. Max’s hand comes up to cup your cheek, and you melt into his touch.

When you finally break apart, you’re both slightly breathless. Max rests his forehead against yours, a smile playing at his lips.

“I’ve wanted to do that all night,” he admits.

You laugh softly. “Even when I was insulting your pizza preferences?”

“Especially then,” Max grins. “You’re cute when you’re indignant.”

You swat at his arm playfully, but you can’t keep the smile off your face. For the first time all day, you feel truly happy.

As the night wears on, you and Max continue to talk, trading stories and stealing kisses. Gradually, your positions shift again. Max lies down, and you curl up against his side, your head resting on his chest. His arm wraps around you, holding you close.

“Y/N?” Max says softly, his fingers tracing patterns on your arm.

“Hmm?” you mumble, feeling drowsy and content.

“Happy birthday,” he says. “I know it didn’t start out great, but I hope it got better.”

You tilt your head up to look at him, a warm smile spreading across your face. “It did,” you assure him. “Thanks to you.”

Max kisses your forehead gently. “Get some sleep,” he murmurs. “We can figure everything else out in the morning.”

As you drift off to sleep, wrapped in Max’s arms, you can’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, this birthday wasn’t so bad after all. In fact, it might just be the start of something wonderful.

***

The early morning sunlight filters through the curtains, casting a warm glow across the room. You stir slowly, awareness creeping in as you feel a strong arm wrapped around your waist. For a moment, confusion sets in before the events of the previous night come rushing back.

You’re in Max Verstappen’s bed. And Max Verstappen is currently spooning you.

A smile tugs at your lips as you nestle back into his warmth, not quite ready to face the day. But fate, it seems, has other plans.

A sharp knock at the door jolts both of you awake. Max groans, burying his face in your hair.

“Room service?” You mumble, still half-asleep.

Max shakes his head, his voice gravelly with sleep. “Didn’t order any.”

The knock comes again, more insistent this time. With a sigh, Max untangles himself from you and slides out of bed.

“I’ll get it,” he says, running a hand through his disheveled hair. “You stay here.”

You nod, pulling the covers up to your chin and watching as Max pads to the door in his t-shirt and sweatpants. He opens it a crack, peering out.

“Can I help you?” He asks, confusion evident in his tone.

There’s a muffled response, and then Max is stepping back, opening the door wider. A hotel staff member enters, carrying an enormous bouquet of red roses.

“Delivery for Y/N Leclerc,” the staff member announces, looking around the room.

You sit up in bed, eyes wide. “That’s ... that’s me.”

The staff member nods, moving to set the bouquet on a nearby table. “Sign here, please,” he says, holding out a clipboard.

Still bewildered, you climb out of bed and make your way over, scrawling your signature on the form. The staff member thanks you and exits, leaving you and Max staring at the ostentatious display of flowers.

“Well,” Max says after a moment, “I guess your brother remembered after all.”

You let out a rueful laugh, shaking your head. “Yeah, I guess he did.”

Max frowns, noting the lack of enthusiasm in your voice. “Aren’t you happy about it?”

You sigh, reaching out to touch one of the velvety petals. “It’s just ... I’ve told Charles a hundred times that I don’t like roses. They’re not my favorite flower. But every time he needs to apologize or wants to do something nice, it’s always roses.”

“Oh,” Max says softly, understanding dawning on his face. “So it’s less about you and more about what he thinks you should like.”

You nod, a lump forming in your throat. “Exactly. It’s like he doesn’t really listen, you know? He just does what he thinks is right without considering what I actually want.”

Max moves closer, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you against his side. “That must be frustrating,” he says gently.

You lean into him, grateful for the support. “It is. And I know I should be grateful. It’s a beautiful bouquet, and he’s trying. But ...”

“But it’s not what you want,” Max finishes for you. “And that matters.”

You look up at him, surprised by how well he understands. “Yeah, exactly.”

Max turns to face you fully, his blue eyes serious. “Y/N, listen to me. It’s okay to be upset about this. It’s okay to want your family to actually listen to you and consider your feelings.”

You bite your lip, tears threatening to spill over. “But they’re trying now. Shouldn’t I just forgive them and move on?”

Max shakes his head firmly. “No. You don’t have to forgive them right away just because they made a grand gesture. It’s okay to make them work for your forgiveness.”

“Really?” You ask, your voice small.

“Really,” Max assures you. “They hurt you, Y/N. They forgot your birthday and made you feel invisible. One bouquet of flowers — flowers you don’t even like — doesn’t erase that.”

You nod slowly, processing his words. “So what do I do?”

Max runs a hand through his hair, thinking. “Well, what do you want to do? How do you feel?”

You take a deep breath, considering. “Honestly? I’m not ready to see them yet. I know I’ll have to face them eventually, but right now ... I just can’t.”

“Then don’t,” Max says simply. “Take the time you need. They can wait.”

A weight lifts off your shoulders at his words. “You don’t think that’s selfish?”

Max cups your face in his hands, his gaze intense. “It’s not selfish to prioritize your own feelings and well-being. You matter, Y/N. Your feelings matter.”

Tears spill over then, and Max pulls you into a tight embrace. You bury your face in his chest, letting out all the hurt and frustration you’ve been holding in.

“Shh,” Max soothes, rubbing your back. “It’s okay. Let it out.”

After a few minutes, your sobs subside. You pull back slightly, wiping at your eyes. “Sorry,” you mumble. “I got your shirt all wet.”

Max chuckles, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “I think I’ll survive. Feel better?”

You nod, offering him a watery smile. “Yeah, actually. Thanks.”

“Anytime,” Max says softly. Then, a mischievous glint enters his eye. “So, what should we do with the roses? I vote we throw them off the balcony and watch them scatter in the wind.”

You laugh, the sound bubbling up from deep in your chest. “As tempting as that is, I don’t think hotel management would appreciate it.”

Max shrugs, grinning. “Their loss. We could always donate them to a hospital or something. Brighten someone else’s day.”

“That’s ... actually a really good idea,” you say, impressed. “We could do that.”

Max beams, clearly pleased with himself. “See? I’m not just a pretty face and fast driver.”

You roll your eyes fondly, but can’t suppress your smile. “Careful, Verstappen. Your ego’s showing.”

“You love it,” he teases, pulling you close again.

As you stand there in his arms, surrounded by the cloying scent of roses you don’t even like, you’re struck by how safe you feel. How understood.

“Max?” You say softly.

“Hmm?”

You pull back slightly to meet his gaze. “Thank you. For everything. For making my birthday special, for listening to me, for ... just being here.”

Max’s expression softens, a tender smile playing at his lips. “You don’t have to thank me for that. I ... I care about you, Y/N. A lot.”

Your heart skips a beat at his words. “I care about you too,” you admit.

For a moment, you just stare at each other, the air charged with unspoken emotions. Then, slowly, Max leans in. His lips meet yours in a soft, sweet kiss that makes your toes curl.

When you break apart, you’re both slightly breathless. Max rests his forehead against yours, his thumb tracing circles on your cheek.

“So,” he says, a hint of uncertainty in his voice. “What happens now?”

You take a deep breath, considering. “Honestly? I’m not sure. This is all happening so fast, and with everything going on with my family ...”

Max nods, understanding in his eyes. “We can take it slow,” he assures you. “There’s no rush.”

Relief washes over you. “Thank you,” you say softly. “I do want this — us. I just need some time to figure everything out.”

“We’ve got all the time in the world,” Max says, pressing a gentle kiss to your nose. “For now, how about we get some breakfast? I’m starving.”

You laugh, grateful for the shift in mood. “Breakfast sounds perfect. But maybe we should change first? I’m not sure I want to face the paparazzi in yesterday’s clothes.”

Max grins, a mischievous glint in his eye. “I don’t know, I think you look pretty good in my t-shirt.”

You glance down, realizing for the first time that you’re indeed wearing one of Max’s shirts. A blush creeps up your cheeks. “When did that happen?”

“You got cold in the middle of the night,” Max explains, looking far too pleased with himself. “I offered you my shirt. You were very insistent that it was the most comfortable thing you’d ever worn.”

You groan, burying your face in your hands. “Oh god. Please tell me I didn’t say anything else embarrassing.”

Max laughs, gently prying your hands away from your face. “Nothing too bad. Though you did mention something about my waist being ‘unfairly perfect’. Your words, not mine.”

“Kill me now,” you mutter, but you can’t help the smile tugging at your lips.

Max pulls you close, pressing a kiss to your temple. “Never. I’m rather fond of you, embarrassing sleep talk and all.”

As you stand there in Max’s arms, the morning sun warming your skin and the scent of roses filling the air, you can’t help but feel a sense of hope. Yes, there’s still a lot to figure out — with your family, with Max, with your future. But for the first time in a long time, you feel like you’re exactly where you’re supposed to be.

And that, you think, is the best birthday gift of all.

***

The private terminal of Milan Malpensa Airport buzzes with activity as the Leclerc family waits to board their chartered jet. Charles paces back and forth, his phone clutched tightly in his hand, eyes darting to the entrance every few seconds.

“Charles, honey, please sit down,” his mother, Pascale, says gently. “You’re making me nervous.”

Charles shakes his head, running a hand through his hair for what must be the hundredth time. “I can’t, Maman. Where is she? She should be here by now.”

Lorenzo exchanges a worried glance with Arthur. “Maybe she got held up in traffic?” He suggests, though his tone lacks conviction.

“For three hours?” Charles snaps, immediately regretting his harsh tone. “Sorry, I just ... I’m worried.”

Arthur stands up, placing a comforting hand on Charles’ shoulder. “We all are. But Y/N’s an adult. She can take care of herself.”

Charles lets out a frustrated sigh. “I know that. But after yesterday ... we really messed up.”

“We did,” Pascale agrees softly, her eyes shining with unshed tears. “But we’ll make it right. We just need to talk to her.”

“If she ever shows up,” Charles mutters, resuming his pacing.

The minutes tick by agonizingly slow. Charles alternates between checking his phone and staring out the window, hoping to catch a glimpse of you arriving. But the parking lot remains stubbornly devoid of your presence.

Finally, a staff member approaches the family. “Mr. Leclerc? The jet is ready for boarding. We need to depart soon to maintain our flight slot.”

Charles feels panic rising in his chest. “No, we can’t leave yet. My sister isn’t here.”

The staff member looks uncomfortable. “I understand, sir, but we have a schedule to keep. Perhaps your sister could take a commercial flight?”

“Absolutely not,” Charles says firmly. “We’re not leaving without her.”

Lorenzo steps in, ever the diplomat. “Is there any way we could delay for just a bit longer? It’s really important that we wait for our sister.”

The staff member hesitates, then nods. “I’ll see what I can do. But please understand, we can’t hold the slot indefinitely.”

As the employee walks away, Charles resumes his pacing with renewed vigor.

“This isn’t like her,” he mutters. “She wouldn’t just disappear without telling us.”

Arthur bites his lip, looking guilty. “Maybe ... maybe she’s still upset about yesterday?”

Charles stops in his tracks, turning to face his younger brother. “What do you mean?”

Arthur shifts uncomfortably. “Well, we did forget her birthday. And then when we remembered, we didn’t exactly handle it well. Those roses you sent? Y/N hates roses.”

Charles feels like he’s been punched in the gut. “She ... what? No, she loves roses. I always get her roses.”

“Because you always get her roses,” Lorenzo chimes in, realization dawning on his face. “Not because she actually likes them.”

Charles slumps into a nearby chair, head in his hands. “How did I not know that? What kind of brother am I?”

Pascale moves to sit beside him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. “We’ve all made mistakes. But we can fix this. We just need to talk to her.”

“If she’ll even talk to us,” Charles mumbles.

Just then, his phone buzzes. Charles nearly drops it in his haste to check the notification, hope flaring in his chest. But it’s not from you.

“It’s Max,” he says, frowning in confusion.

“Verstappen?” Arthur asks, leaning over to peek at the screen. “What does he want?”

Charles opens the message, his eyes widening as he reads it aloud:

“Y/N is with me. She’s safe and we’re flying back to Monaco together. She needs some space right now. Give her time.”

The silence that follows is deafening. Charles reads and rereads the message, trying to process what it means.

“She’s with Max?” Lorenzo finally says, breaking the silence. “Since when are they even friends?”

Charles shakes his head, still staring at his phone. “I don’t know. I ... I saw him last night. He knew where she was, but I thought it was just a spontaneous thing.”

“Well, at least we know she’s safe,” Pascale says, always trying to find the silver lining. “That’s the most important thing.”

But Charles can’t shake the feeling of unease settling in his stomach. “Why didn’t she come to us? Why Max, of all people?”

Arthur places a hand on Charles’ shoulder. “Maybe because he was there when we weren’t,” he says softly.

The words hit Charles like a physical blow. He knows Arthur is right, but it doesn’t make it any easier to hear.

“So what do we do now?” Lorenzo asks, looking around at his family.

Charles takes a deep breath, trying to calm the storm of emotions raging inside him. “We do what Max said. We give her time.”

“But for how long?” Pascale asks, worry evident in her voice. “She’s our little girl. We can’t just leave her alone.”

“She’s not alone, Maman,” Charles says, surprised by the steadiness in his voice. “She’s with Max. And as much as it pains me to admit it, I think ... I think she might be better off with him right now.”

The family falls silent again, each lost in their own thoughts. The weight of their collective mistake hangs heavy in the air.

Finally, Charles stands up, squaring his shoulders. “We should board the jet. There’s nothing more we can do here.”

As they gather their belongings and make their way to the plane, Charles can’t help but replay Max’s message in his head. You’re with Max. You’re safe. You need space.

He tries to imagine you and Max together, and finds that he can’t. What could have happened in the span of one day to bring you two together? And more importantly, what had driven you away from your own family?

As he settles into his seat on the jet, Charles makes a silent promise to himself and to you. He’ll give you the space you need, but he won’t give up. He’ll find a way to make things right, to be the brother you deserve.

The jet takes off, carrying the Leclerc family back to Monaco. But for Charles, it feels like they’re leaving a piece of themselves behind in Milan. A piece that, he fears, might be harder to reclaim than he ever imagined.

Meanwhile, across the airport, you and Max are boarding his private jet. The contrast between the two scenes couldn’t be more stark.

“You okay?” Max asks softly as you settle into your seat.

You nod, offering him a small smile. “Yeah, I think so. Thanks for ... well, everything.”

Max reaches over, giving your hand a gentle squeeze. “Anytime. You know that.”

As the jet prepares for takeoff, you can’t help but think about your family. Are they worried? Angry? Do they even care?

“Max?” You say, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Hmm?”

You turn to look at him, vulnerability shining in your eyes. “Did I do the right thing? Leaving without talking to them?”

Max considers your question carefully before answering. “I think you did what you needed to do for yourself. And that’s never wrong.”

His words settle over you like a warm blanket, easing some of the tension in your shoulders.

“Thank you,” you murmur. “For understanding. For not pushing me to do what everyone else thinks I should do.”

Max smiles, a soft, genuine expression that makes your heart flutter. “That’s what ... friends are for, right?”

There’s a hesitation in his voice, a question in his eyes that makes you wonder if ‘friends’ is really the right word for what’s developing between you.

As the jet takes off, carrying you away from Milan and the chaos of the past day, you find yourself feeling something you haven’t felt in a long time: hope. Hope for a future where you’re seen, heard, and valued for who you are.

And as you glance at Max, his profile illuminated by the setting sun streaming through the window, you can’t help but wonder if he might be a bigger part of that future than you ever imagined.

The jet climbs higher, leaving the ground and all its complications behind. For now, at least, you’re free. Free to breathe, to think, to feel without the weight of expectations pressing down on you.

You close your eyes, letting out a long breath. Whatever comes next, you know one thing for certain: things will never be the same again. And maybe, just maybe, that’s exactly what you need.

***

The sun is setting over Monaco, shining warmly through the floor-to-ceiling windows of Max’s penthouse apartment. You’re curled up on the plush sofa, a book in your lap, trying to lose yourself in the pages. But your mind keeps wandering, replaying the events of the past couple of days.

Max emerges from the kitchen, two steaming mugs in hand. “Thought you might need this,” he says, offering you one.

You smile gratefully, inhaling the rich aroma of hot chocolate. “Thanks. You didn’t have to.”

He shrugs, settling down beside you. “I wanted to. How’re you holding up?”

You’re about to answer when the doorbell rings. Max frowns, glancing at his watch. “I’m not expecting anyone. Are you?”

You shake your head, a knot of anxiety forming in your stomach. Could it be your family? Are they here to confront you?

Max squeezes your hand reassuringly before getting up to answer the door. You hear muffled voices, then the sound of something heavy being dragged across the floor.

“Um, Y/N?” Max calls. “I think you might want to see this.”

Curiosity overcoming your apprehension, you make your way to the foyer. Your jaw drops at the sight that greets you.

The entire space is filled with bags. Not just any bags, but the kind that comes from the most exclusive boutiques in Monaco. Gucci, Prada, Louis Vuitton, Chanel — the logos stare back at you from every direction.

“What ... what is all this?” You stammer, looking to Max for explanation.

He hands you a small envelope. “This came with it. It’s addressed to you.”

With trembling fingers, you open the envelope and unfold the note inside. You’d recognize that handwriting anywhere.

Y/N,

I know I messed up. We all did. I’m so sorry for forgetting your birthday and for not being the brother you deserve. I hope these gifts can begin to make up for it. Please come home. We miss you.

Love,

Charles

You read the note twice, then a third time, disbelief turning to anger with each pass.

“He’s got to be kidding,” you mutter, crumpling the paper in your fist.

Max steps closer, concern etched on his face. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

You let out a bitter laugh. “This,” you say, gesturing at the sea of designer bags, “is my brother’s idea of an apology. He thinks he can just ... buy me back with expensive gifts.”

Understanding dawns on Max’s face. “Ah. And I’m guessing that’s not going to work?”

“Not even close,” you say, shaking your head. “God, it’s like he doesn’t know me at all. I’m not one of his girlfriends who can be placated with a shopping spree.”

Max winces. “Ouch. Has he done this before?”

You nod, sinking down onto the nearest clear spot on the floor. “Every time he messes up with a girl, it’s the same routine. Flowers, jewelry, designer clothes. And it usually works, because the girls he dates ... well, they tend to be into that kind of thing.”

Max sits down beside you, his shoulder brushing against yours. “But you’re not.”

“No,” you confirm. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, I appreciate nice things. But that’s not what this is about. It’s about him actually listening to me, actually seeing me as a person and not just ... his kid sister who can be bought off.”

Max is quiet for a moment, then says softly, “You know, it’s okay to be angry about this. You don’t have to pretend it doesn’t hurt.”

His words break something open inside you. Tears well up in your eyes, spilling over before you can stop them. “I just ... I thought he knew me better than this. I thought they all did.”

Max wraps an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close. You lean into him, letting the tears fall freely now.

“It’s like they don’t even see me,” you choke out between sobs. “They see this idea of who they think I should be, but not ... not who I actually am.”

Max rubs soothing circles on your back, letting you cry it out. When your sobs finally subside, he hands you a tissue.

“Feel better?” He asks gently.

You nod, wiping your eyes. “A little. Sorry for breaking down on you like that.”

Max shakes his head firmly. “Don’t apologize. That’s what I’m here for.”

You offer him a watery smile, then turn back to survey the mountain of bags. “So ... what do I do with all this?”

Max considers for a moment. “Well, what do you want to do?”

You bite your lip, thinking. “Honestly? I want to send it all back. Show him that he can’t just throw money at the problem and expect it to go away.”

Max nods approvingly. “I think that’s a great idea. It sends a clear message.”

“You don’t think it’s too harsh?” You ask, a hint of uncertainty creeping into your voice.

“Not at all,” Max assures you. “You’re standing up for yourself, setting boundaries. That’s important.”

Emboldened by his support, you start rifling through the bags, curiosity getting the better of you. “I wonder what he even bought ... oh.”

You pull out a small velvet box, opening it to reveal a delicate tennis bracelet. The diamonds catch the light, sparkling brilliantly.

“Wow,” Max breathes, leaning in for a closer look. “That’s ... that’s something.”

You nod, mesmerized by the way the bracelet shimmers. “It’s beautiful,” you admit softly.

Max watches you carefully. “You like it,” he observes.

You sigh, closing the box with a snap. “It doesn’t matter. It’s going back with everything else.”

“Why?” Max asks, genuine curiosity in his voice. “If you like it, why not keep it?”

You look at him, surprised. “But ... I thought you said sending it all back was a good idea?”

Max shrugs. “It is. But that doesn’t mean you can’t keep one thing if it genuinely makes you happy. You’re allowed to like nice things, Y/N. That doesn’t invalidate your feelings about the situation.”

You turn the box over in your hands, considering. “I don’t know ... wouldn’t keeping anything send the wrong message?”

“I think,” Max says slowly, “that the message you send depends more on what you say than what you keep or don’t keep. If you like the bracelet, keep it. But make sure Charles understands that a pretty piece of jewelry doesn’t fix the underlying issues.”

You nod, his words resonating with you. “You’re right. I’ll keep the bracelet ... but everything else goes back.”

As you start sorting through the bags, separating out what will be returned, you can’t help but laugh.

“What’s so funny?” Max asks, a smile tugging at his lips.

You hold up the bracelet box. “I was just thinking ... it would be a shame to let something this pretty go to waste, right?”

Max chuckles, shaking his head. “Absolutely. It’s practically your duty to keep it. For the sake of the bracelet, of course.”

“Of course,” you agree, giggling. “I’m being completely selfless here.”

As you continue to sort through the gifts, occasionally showing Max particularly outrageous items (“A fur coat? In Monaco?”), you feel a weight lifting from your shoulders. For the first time since this whole ordeal began, you feel like you’re taking control of the situation.

“You know,” you say, folding a designer dress back into its bag, “I think I need to have a real conversation with Charles. With all of them, really.”

Max nods encouragingly. “I think that’s a great idea. What do you want to say?”

You take a deep breath, organizing your thoughts. “I want them to understand that I’m my own person, with my own dreams and desires. That I need them to see me, really see me, not just as Charles Leclerc’s little sister or as an extension of the family name.”

“That sounds perfect,” Max says softly. “You deserve to be seen for who you are.”

You smile at him, a rush of warmth flooding your chest. “Thank you. For everything. I don’t know how I would have gotten through this without you.”

Max reaches out, taking your hand in his. “You’re stronger than you give yourself credit for. But I’m glad I could help.”

As you sit there, surrounded by discarded luxury goods, your hand in Max’s, you feel a sense of peace settling over you. You know the road ahead won’t be easy — confronting your family, establishing new boundaries, figuring out exactly where you stand with Max — but for the first time in a long time, you feel ready to face it all.

You slip on the tennis bracelet, admiring the way it catches the light. It’s beautiful, yes, but it’s also a reminder. A reminder that you’re worth more than grand gestures and expensive gifts. You’re worth being truly seen, truly heard, truly understood.

And as you look at Max, his blue eyes warm with understanding and something that might be more, you think that maybe, just maybe, you’ve found someone who sees you for exactly who you are.

***

The afternoon sun beats down on the streets of Monaco as Charles leans against his Ferrari, fidgeting nervously. He’s parked across from the International University of Monaco, his eyes fixed on the entrance. Students stream in and out, but none of them are the one he’s looking for.

He checks his watch for what must be the hundredth time. Your last class should be ending any minute now. Charles takes a deep breath, trying to calm his racing heart. He’s rehearsed what he wants to say a thousand times, but now that the moment is approaching, all his carefully prepared words seem to evaporate.

A group of students emerges from the building, laughing and chatting. Charles straightens up, his eyes scanning the crowd. And then he sees you.

You’re walking with a couple of friends, your bag slung over your shoulder, a smile on your face. For a moment, Charles is struck by how ... normal you look. How at ease. It’s a stark contrast to the tense family dinners and stilted conversations of recent months.

Before he can second-guess himself, Charles pushes off from his car and starts walking towards you. He sees the exact moment you spot him — your smile falters, your steps slow.

“Y/N!” He calls out, waving awkwardly.

Your friends notice him too, their eyes widening in recognition. You say something to them that Charles can’t hear, and they nod, casting curious glances between you and your brother as they walk away.

Charles reaches you, stopping a few feet away, suddenly unsure of himself. “Hey,” he says softly.

“Charles,” you reply, your voice carefully neutral. “What are you doing here?”

He runs a hand through his hair, a nervous habit he’s never been able to shake. “I ... I wanted to talk to you. In person. You haven’t been answering my calls or texts, and I just ... I needed to see you.”

You sigh, adjusting the strap of your bag. “I’ve been busy with classes. And I needed some space.”

“I know,” Charles says quickly. “I know, and I’m sorry for ambushing you like this. I just ... can we talk? Please?”

You glance around, noticing the curious stares from passing students. “Not here,” you say finally. “There’s a café around the corner. We can talk there.”

Charles nods eagerly, relief washing over him. “Yes, of course. Whatever you want.”

You lead the way to the café, a small, cozy place tucked away from the main streets. As you settle into a booth in the back, Charles can’t help but wonder how often you come here, how many parts of your life he knows nothing about.

A waitress approaches, and you order your usual — an iced latte with an extra shot. Charles fumbles with the menu before ordering a simple espresso.

An awkward silence falls over the table as you wait for your drinks. Charles fidgets with a napkin, trying to find the right words to begin.

“So,” you say finally, your tone clipped. “You wanted to talk. Talk.”

Charles takes a deep breath. “I’m sorry,” he blurts out. “I’m so, so sorry, Y/N. For forgetting your birthday, for not being there for you, for ... for everything.”

You raise an eyebrow, your expression unreadable. “Is that it?”

Charles blinks, thrown off balance. “I ... what do you mean?”

“I mean,” you say, leaning forward slightly, “is that all you have to say? You’re sorry?”

Charles feels a flash of frustration. “What else do you want me to say? I messed up, I know that. I’m trying to make it right.”

The waitress returns with your drinks, and you take a long sip of your latte before responding. “Charles, this isn’t just about my birthday. This is about years of feeling invisible, of being overshadowed, of not being seen for who I am.”

Charles feels like he’s been punched in the gut. “What? Y/N, I ... I had no idea you felt that way.”

You let out a bitter laugh. “That’s kind of the point, Charles. You didn’t know because you never asked. None of you did.”

Charles sits back, his mind reeling. “I ... I don’t understand. We’ve always been close. At least, I thought we were.”

“We were,” you agree softly. “When we were kids. But as you got more and more successful, it was like ... like I faded into the background. Everything became about you, about your career.”

Charles feels tears pricking at his eyes. “Y/N, I never meant for that to happen. I love you. You’re my little sister.”

“I know you love me,” you say, your voice gentler now. “But loving someone and seeing them are two different things.”

Charles nods slowly, realization dawning. “The gifts,” he says. “That’s why you sent them back. Because I was trying to fix things without actually understanding what was wrong.”

“Exactly,” you confirm. “Charles, I don’t need expensive clothes or jewelry. I need my brother. The one who used to listen to me ramble about constellations for hours, who’d sneak me extra dessert when Maman wasn’t looking.”

Charles reaches across the table, hesitating for a moment before taking your hand. To his relief, you don’t pull away. “I want to be that brother again,” he says earnestly. “Tell me how. Please.”

You take a deep breath, considering. “Well, for starters, you could ask me about my life. My studies, my friends, my dreams. And actually listen to the answers.”

Charles nods eagerly. “Yes, of course. Tell me everything. What are you studying? How are your classes going?”

A small smile tugs at your lips. “I’m majoring in Astrophysics, remember? This semester I’m taking a course on Stellar Evolution that’s absolutely fascinating. We’re learning about the life cycles of stars, from their formation to their eventual death.”

As you continue talking, passion lighting up your eyes, Charles feels a mix of pride and shame wash over him. Pride in your intelligence and enthusiasm, shame that he’s missed out on so much of your life.

“That sounds incredible,” he says when you pause for breath. “I had no idea you were studying something so complex. You must be really good at it.”

You shrug, a hint of your old shyness creeping in. “I do okay. It’s challenging, but I love it.”

“I’m sure you do more than okay,” Charles insists. “You’ve always been the smartest one in the family.”

You laugh softly. “I don’t know about that. But ... thanks, Charles. It means a lot to hear you say that.”

Charles squeezes your hand. “I mean it. And I want to hear more. About your classes, your friends, everything. I’ve missed so much, and I want to make up for it.”

You nod, a cautious hope in your eyes. “I’d like that. But Charles, it can’t just be today. This has to be a continuous thing. I need to know that you’re genuinely interested in my life, not just when you’re trying to make amends.”

“Absolutely,” Charles agrees immediately. “What if we set up a regular call? Once a week, we can catch up properly. No distractions, no racing talk unless you want to. Just us.”

A genuine smile spreads across your face. “I’d really like that.”

Charles feels a weight lifting from his shoulders. It’s not fixed, not completely, but it’s a start. “There’s something else,” he says, suddenly remembering. “Max ... are you and Max ...”

You blush slightly, looking down at your latte. “We’re ... figuring things out. He’s been really supportive through all of this.”

Charles nods, pushing down the instinctive surge of protectiveness. “He’s a good guy. If he makes you happy, then I’m happy for you.”

You look up, surprise evident in your eyes. “Really? You’re not going to go all overprotective big brother on me?”

Charles chuckles. “Oh, I’m sure I’ll have my moments. But Y/N, you’re an adult. You can make your own choices. I trust you.”

Tears well up in your eyes. “Thank you. That ... that means more than you know.”

As you both finish your drinks, the conversation flows more easily. Charles asks about your friends, your hobbies outside of studying. You tell him about the astronomy club you’ve joined, the research project you’re hoping to get involved with next semester.

When it’s time to leave, Charles stands up, hesitating for a moment before opening his arms. “Can I ...”

You nod, stepping into his embrace. Charles holds you tight, realizing how long it’s been since he’s really hugged you like this.

“I love you, little sister,” he murmurs into your hair. “And I promise, I’m going to do better.”

You squeeze him back. “I love you too, big brother. And ... I’m willing to give you the chance to prove it.”

As you part ways outside the café, Charles heading back to his car and you towards your apartment, there’s a lightness in the air that wasn’t there before. It’s not perfect, not yet. There are still conversations to be had, bridges to be rebuilt. But for the first time in a long time, there’s hope.

Charles watches you walk away, a mix of emotions swirling in his chest. Pride in the amazing person you’ve become, regret for the time he’s missed, determination to be the brother you deserve.

He pulls out his phone, creating a new reminder: Call Y/N — every Sunday, 7 PM.

It’s a small step, but it’s a start. And as he drives home, Charles finds himself looking forward to getting to know his little sister all over again.

***

The auditorium of the International University of Monaco buzzes with excitement as proud families and friends gather to celebrate the graduating class. In the front row, an unusually high-profile group draws curious glances and whispered conversations.

Charles fidgets in his seat, craning his neck to scan the sea of graduates. “Do you see her?” He asks, nudging his older brother.

Lorenzo chuckles, placing a calming hand on Charles’ shoulder. “Relax. She’ll be here. Alphabetical order, remember?”

On Charles’ other side, Arthur rolls his eyes fondly. “You’d think he was the one graduating, the way he’s acting.”

“Can you blame him?” Max chimes in from the end of the row, a warm smile on his face. “It’s a big day.”

Pascale, seated between Lorenzo and Arthur, dabs at her eyes with a tissue. “My baby girl, graduating university. I can hardly believe it.”

Max reaches across to pat her hand. “She’s amazing, Pascale. You should be very proud.”

Charles turns to Max, a mischievous glint in his eye. “Look at you, all calm and collected. I remember when you were a nervous wreck asking her out for the first time.”

Max blushes slightly, but grins. “Hey, your sister is intimidating. All that brainpower.”

“Shh!” Arthur hisses suddenly. “I think it’s starting!”

The auditorium falls silent as the ceremony begins. The family watches with rapt attention as the graduates file in, searching for that familiar face among the sea of caps and gowns.

And then, there you are. Your eyes scan the crowd until they land on your family, a bright smile spreading across your face as you wave discreetly.

“There she is!” Charles whisper-shouts, practically bouncing in his seat.

Lorenzo chuckles. “We see her. Try to contain yourself, yeah?”

The ceremony progresses, with speeches from the valedictorian and various dignitaries. Charles fidgets impatiently, earning amused glances from his family and Max.

Finally, the moment arrives. “Y/N Leclerc,” the announcer calls.

Charles jumps to his feet, letting out a whoop that echoes through the auditorium. “That’s my sister!” He shouts, drawing startled looks from nearby attendees.

Lorenzo and Arthur quickly join in, their cheers mixing with Charles’. Max and Pascale stand too, clapping enthusiastically.

You walk across the stage, accepting your diploma with a graceful nod. As you turn to face the audience, your eyes lock with your family’s, and your composed expression breaks into a radiant smile.

Charles, caught up in the moment, continues cheering even after you’ve left the stage. “That’s right! Astrophysicist in the house! Watch out, universe!”

Max, noticing the irritated glances from other families, reaches over and claps a hand over Charles’ mouth. “Okay, Charlie, I think she heard you,” he says, laughter in his voice.

Max feels something wet against his palm and jerks his hand away.

“Ugh, gross!” Max yelps, wiping it on his pants. “What are you, five?”

Charles grins unrepentantly. “You started it.”

Pascale sighs, shaking her head. “Boys, please. This is Y/N’s big day. Try to act like adults.”

“Sorry, Maman,” Charles mumbles, properly chastised.

As the ceremony concludes, the family makes their way outside, eagerly scanning the crowd for you.

“There!” Arthur calls out, pointing.

You’re making your way towards them, diploma in hand, your face glowing with happiness. Max reaches you first, sweeping you into a tight hug.

“Congratulations, liefje,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your temple. “I’m so proud of you.”

You beam up at him, about to respond when Charles practically tackles you both.

“My sister, the genius!” He crows, lifting you off your feet and spinning you around. “I always knew you’d take over the world someday.”

You laugh, hugging him back just as fiercely. “Put me down, you goof! You’re making a scene.”

“Let him have his moment,” Lorenzo says, stepping in for his own hug once Charles releases you. “It’s not every day your little sister graduates top of her class in Astrophysics.”

Arthur’s turn comes next, his hug gentler but no less heartfelt. “Congrats. You’ve officially made the rest of us look like underachievers.”

Finally, you turn to your mother, who’s openly crying now. “Oh, my darling,” she says, cupping your face in her hands. “I’m so, so proud of you.”

You feel tears welling up in your own eyes as you embrace her. “Thanks, Maman. For everything.”

As you pull back, wiping at your eyes, Charles slings an arm around your shoulders. “So, what’s next? Going to discover a new planet? Name a star after your favorite man?”

You roll your eyes fondly. “First of all, I still have to get through graduate school. And second, bold of you to assume you’re my favorite.”

“Ouch,” Charles clutches his chest in mock pain. “After all we’ve been through?”

Max chuckles, wrapping an arm around your waist. “Face it, Leclerc. I’ve got you beat in the favorite department.”

Charles narrows his eyes playfully. “Is that a challenge, Verstappen?”

“Boys, boys,” you interject, laughing. “There’s plenty of me to go around. Now, how about we get out of here? I’m starving, and I believe someone promised me a celebration dinner.”

“Ah, yes!” Pascale says, clapping her hands together. “I’ve made reservations at La Maree. Your favorite, chérie.”

As the family starts to move towards the parking lot, Max hangs back, tugging gently on your hand. “Hold on a sec,” he says softly. “I want to give you something.”

Curious, you turn to face him. Max reaches into his pocket, pulling out a small velvet box.

Your eyes widen. “Max ...”

He opens the box, revealing a delicate necklace. A small white gold star pendant hangs from the chain, a tiny diamond twinkling at its center.

“I know it’s not much compared to your usual study subjects,” Max says, a hint of nervousness in his voice. “But I thought ... well, you’re my star, Y/N. My brilliant, beautiful star.”

Tears well up in your eyes again as Max fastens the necklace around your neck. “It’s perfect,” you whisper. “I love it. I love you.”

Max’s face breaks into a radiant smile. “I love you too,” he says, before leaning in to capture your lips in a tender kiss.

You melt into the kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck as his hands settle on your waist. For a moment, the world fades away, and it’s just the two of you.

The spell is broken by an exaggerated gagging sound. You break apart to see Charles pretending to retch, while Lorenzo and Arthur laugh.

You break apart, laughing. “Real mature, Charles,” you call back.

Charles grins, unrepentant. “Hey, someone’s got to keep an eye on you crazy kids.”

Max rolls his eyes good-naturedly. “Your brother, the chaperone,” he mutters.

You giggle, taking Max’s hand as you rejoin your family. “Don’t worry,” you whisper conspiratorially. “We’ll ditch him at the restaurant.”

As you all pile into the waiting cars, the air buzzing with excitement and plans for the evening, you can’t help but feel overwhelmed with happiness. A year ago, you never would have imagined this scene — your family truly seeing and celebrating you, a wonderful man by your side who loves and supports you, and a bright future ahead in a field you’re passionate about.

The cars pull away from the university, carrying you towards your celebration dinner. As you watch the familiar streets of Monaco roll by, you find yourself filled with an incredible sense of anticipation. This isn’t just the end of your university journey — it’s the beginning of something new and exciting.

You glance around the car — at Charles and Arthur bickering good-naturedly in the back seat, at your mother chatting happily with Lorenzo who’s driving, and finally at Max beside you, his hand warm in yours. Your family, in all its chaotic, loving glory.

“Hey,” Max says softly, noticing your pensive expression. “You okay?”

You smile, squeezing his hand. “More than okay. I’m perfect.”

And as the car winds its way through the streets of Monaco, towards a future bright with possibility, you know that it’s true. You’re exactly where you’re meant to be, surrounded by love, with the stars stretching out endlessly before you.

[gyuwoncheol]

Sir, Please.

Pair: Wonwoo x f.reader

Genre: Fluff, Smut. 18+ only (MDNI).

Summary: Wonwoo doesn’t mind keeping you at the edge if it means watching you fall apart.

Warnings: Dom!Wonwoo, Sir! kink, edging, cockwarming, unprotected sex (stay safe, children), squirting, clitoral stimulation, lots of making out, creampie, pussy slapping (like once), overstimulation, dacryphilia, breast play, wrist pinning, dirty talk, use of pet names (Sir, good girl, darling, love, baby, sweetie), glorious aftercare (Wonu is the best), fluff. Please let me know if i missed something. Not proofread, might come back to fix up errors.

WC: 3k

Author’s note: First smut piece for Wonwoo my love. This was only supposed to be post-sex cuddles fluff but thought it was the right time to finally write smut for my favorite boy. As is the plot of this piece, good things come to those who wait 😏 Enjoy!

Tagging fellow Wonu lovers @multi-kpop-fanfics @playmetheclassics for the chaos.

“What’re you doing?” Your boyfriend quizzed, your bare body still on top of his, a cheek resting against his bare chest.

“Doodling,” you mumbled casually as your finger continued to draw lazy patterns on his side.

“Darling, it tickles.”

“I don’t see you flinching.”

“You’re on top of me. If I flinch, you might fall.” He stated matter-of-factly.

You craned your neck to look up at him, flashing a wide grin momentarily, “then suffer.”

You shook along with Wonwoo as he laughed at your reply, a strong arm secured tightly around your torso, while his free hand cradled the back of your head.

A large smile was permanently etched on Wonwoo’s face as you both laid in comfortable silence. When he had collapsed onto you just minutes ago after reaching his climax, he had asked so nicely if he could stay inside a little longer and who were you to complain? You’ve craved for this kind of intimacy with him for awhile now after being both so busy with work.

“You’re lucky i love you,” Wonwoo declared as he kissed the top of your head.

You hummed in response, trailing your fingers again on his side, nails lightly scratching on his skin, “did you just write ‘i love you too’ on my ribs?” He laughs, and you nod an affirmative.

You took a deep breath, closing your eyes and snuggling more into your boyfriend’s chest. Now would be a good time for time to stand still. The setting sun casted warm hues of light inside your bedroom and while the airconditioning was cold, Wonwoo was radiating just the right amount of heat to keep you from shivering.

“I’ve missed you,” you blurted out.

“I know, sweetheart. I’ve missed you too. I’ve missed this,” another kiss was placed on top of your head, “i’m sorry i’ve been so busy.”

“I’m sorry too,” you sighed, resting your chin on his pecs to face him. “I wish i had more time to visit you in practice, or even just see you for lunch.”

“That’s okay, darling. We’re both just in our busy season. It will be over soon, yeah?” This time, Wonwoo’s palm was rubbing circular motions on the small of your back. “I was thinking we should go on a vacation when this all boils over.”

Your eyes grew wide, excited at your boyfriend’s suggestion, “really?”

“Yeah, maybe the countryside? Or out of the country? Where do you want?”

A blush crept up your cheeks at Wonwoo’s gesture of letting you choose, but honestly, you could’ve just stayed at your home and it would be okay. The last time you had a vacation, he made you choose the place too but this time, you didn’t really have a shortlist of destinations. You craned your neck to kiss his lips shortly, “surprise me?” You smiled shyly, “maybe somewhere peaceful and with fresh air? Anywhere as long as it’s with you is all I want, darling.”

“Okay, i’ll plan it out.” He confirmed before rolling you both over so his body hovered above yours

“Where are you going?” You pouted when he made a move to slip out of you.

“I need to clean you up, sweetie.”

You hooked a leg around his waist in retaliation, not at all ready to feel empty just yet. You attempted the most doe eyes you could muster, looking up at your boyfriend through your lashes and clenching your pussy as you did so, “Don’t you wanna fuck me one more time?”

Wonwoo scoffed at your question, the corner of his lips pulling into a devious smile at your sweet tone, “can’t get enough, darling?” His voice was lower by a few octaves, enough to send a shiver through your spine and a gush of wetness in your cunt.

“N-no, sir.”

Wonwoo smirked at the nickname before doing an experimental thrust. When your eyes rolled to the back of your head, he simply chuckled before dragging his cock out slowly and then swiftly burying himself to the hilt, rendering you even more speechless than you were. He could feel the rhythmic spasming of your walls, causing him to grow harder and harder.

You cupped his face to bring it closer to yours, kissing him and sucking at his lower lip. Wonwoo smiles in the kiss, amused at your neediness especially when he feels you lift your hips and roll them on his.

“Eager are we?”

“Wonuuu,” you whined pathetically, clawing at his back.

“Wonu?” he questioned with a glare, pinning you to the mattress agressively, “that’s not what you called me minutes ago, darlin’”

“Well, I don’t know where he went. Maybe if you give me what I want then I’ll start calling you it again,” you smirked, dragging your nails a little more harshly on his skin making him hiss.

Wonwoo rolls his eyes, only to dive into your right breast and suck harshly at the bud, eliciting a loud moan from you. He snakes his hand in between you both, thumb finding your clit and rubbing it in circles, immediately feeling you clench around his dick again.He mutters something about you being responsive but it flies over your head as he picks up his pace. The slide is much easier given your mixed cum and your new arousal so it takes him record time to hit your sweet spot. Every ridge and vein on his cock drags against your walls in a way that’s more delicious than awhile ago.

“S-sir, pl-pleaasee,” you shake, the pit of your stomach tightening as you arch your back.

“Does my darling want to cum?” The nickname sounds sickly sweet as it rolls off his tongue and it only helps you get closer to the edge.

You nod your head repetitively, chants of ‘yes’s’ and ‘oh’s’ spilling from your lips, but then Wonwoo withdraws his hand from your sensitive bud and stills inside of you, a vice grip around your body as he licks the shell of your ear, “you don’t get to cum until I say so.” The words were loud, clear and firm, in a tone you knew all too well.

“But Won—“ you cry out loud, tears forming in your eyes as you feel your climax painfully float away.

“Nuh uh,” two harsh thrusts are delivered straight to your gspot as your boyfriend hooks one of your legs on his shoulder, “Call me wrong again and I will not let you cum at all.”

“Fuuuuck,” you mewl from the way his cock rams into you with the new angle, following it up with whines at the thought of getting no release, “S-sorry, sir! ‘M sorry!”

“There it is. Now that wasn’t so hard, was it?” Wonwoo mocks, “now be my good girl and hold it out for me, yeah?”

You’re a incoherent mess as you try to obey him, but it isn’t so easy when his large cock is abusing your sore, sloppy cunt. Words of filth pair each one of his powerful thrusts.

“My dirty little whore”

“So fuckin’ needy for my cock.”

“Can’t get enough of this pussy.”

“Your pussy is mine.”

“All made for me.”

You were letting out moans of pleasure as Wonwoo pounded into you mercilessly, the knot in your stomach making itself felt again.

“Fu– ah! Fuck, s-sir! Please!” You asked, but it only fell on deaf ears. Both your wrists were tightly pinned with just one of your boyfriend’s large hand above your head and his blown out pupils were looking right at you.

“Make me cum, make me cum, make me cum, please!!!” you begged shamelessly, voice shaking and legs closing in as you teetered on the edge of your orgasm.

“Not. Yet.” Wonwoo withdrew fully from your hole and you shrieked at the loss, your hips lifting to chase after his dick only to have it slammed down by his free hand.

“Sir!!!” You scowled, eyebrows scrunching and eyes wide, anger and pain washing away yet another failed orgasm.

A proud, lopsided smirk appeared on your boyfriend’s face. He licked his bottom lip, enjoying the torture he beset on you despite his painfully hard cock.

“What?”

It wasn’t a question. He wasn’t asking, you knew that much.

“Nothing,” you cowered and blinked back your tears, erasing the anger in your face much to your dismay.

“Good girl.”

You swallowed thickly, squirming once more when Wonwoo tapped his heavy length on your pussy, coating himself with your slippery wetness— not that he needed any more of it— before purposely slapping your swollen clit with his angry red tip. The stimulation from that alone already had your toes curling and it took every fibre of your being to not just unravel right there.

You should’ve known calling him ‘sir’ would lead to this, but behind the tearful denials, you knew immense pleasure awaits.

“Siirrr, p-please! I n-need it.”

“Shhh. Patience, darling. We’ve got lots of time.” The demonic chuckle Wonwoo let out had you whimpering pitifully, your hands fighting to break free from his hold.

It seemed your boyfriend was hell bent on prolonging your agony when he simply continues to endlessly tap his shaft on your clit as he pumps himself.

Wonwoo was not usually loud in bed, save for his occasional grunts and broken groans when he falls into bliss. However, he’s decided now would be the perfect time to make matters all the more worse for you. He was being loud about it all, no holds barred. The squelching noises of his dick against your wet lips is now easily drowned out by the guttural moans Wonwoo has let slip past his mouth. You thought his dirty talk is music? Well, this was a symphony.

You had thought you wouldn’t get close this time around since he wasn’t inside you but the relentless knocks on your clit and the obnoxiously loud moans of your boyfriend have proved you wrong. Your hands balled into fists and you squeezed your eyes shut, mentally fighting off the ball of pleasure in your lower abdomen.

“Look at you, fighting so hard,” Wonwoo snickers, pressing down the tip of his cock to your clit in slow circular motions, “show me how good you are yeah?”

“Yes yes yes! ‘M good! Your good girl, promise!” You were so far gone, pliant to each one of your boyfriend’s requests.

“So wet, you’re soiling the bed,” he points out the obvious, “what a fuckin’ mess.” Wonwoo saw another shiver run through you, indicating you were seconds away from release. So for the third time that day, he denies you of the very thing you crave for, letting go of your wrists and then landing a sharp smack to your pussy before completely backing away to watch you spasm and curl up into a ball of needy tears and pathetic whines.

Your head was spinning and your senses were more than heightened. The slippery feeling of your arousal between your thighs were making it harder for you to squeeze them shut and stay still. Wonwoo simply loomed over you, giving you enough time to stabilize your breathing and let your failed orgasm ebb away. He knew that if he’d put so much just as one finger on your skin, you’d cum right away. Contrary to his actions, he wanted you to cum, but that didn’t mean he wanted to see you cry for it first.

“S-sirr,” you sobbed.

A gentle touch carefully landed on your calf and when you didn’t flinch away, Wonwoo let out a sigh of relief, “Yes, baby?”

“Please,” your voice barely above a whisper, “n-need you…”

Whatever other words you had planned were swallowed by Wonwoo in a searing kiss. It was sloppy and messy, his skillful tongue darting to yours, teeth biting at your lips. You both moaned in unison when he impaled you on his cock once more.

“So big,” you groaned, initially amused at the delicious stretch until you realised, he’s had to hold off his own orgasm too.

Wonwoo gives it his all, jackhammering into you like it would be the last time. The sound of moans and skin slapping skin reverberate around the room. And then, there it is again, a coil so tight on your stomach, you fear you’re going delirious to the point of no return.

“Wo— Sir!” You quickly correct yourself, losing the least bit of dignity you had, tears drenching your cheeks, “i’m b-begging, p-please…”

The gentle kiss on your nose set a stark contrast from how his cock abused your sopping cunt, but relief finally took over you at the words whispered in your ear, “so good for me. Let go, baby. I got you.”

A strangled cry ripped out of your throat, your orgasm gloriously hitting you like a tidal wave. Wonwoo continued to talk you through it while holding down your convulsing body and slamming his hips into you, the sight of your pussy creaming his cock eventually producing broken moans from him.

“B-babe, too– ah! Too m-much!” More tears fell on your face as Wonwoo did deep snaps, his pelvic bone grinding on your clit.

“C’mon baby, m’ close. S-so close!”

Incomprehensible noises tumbled out of you when your boyfriend buried himself deep, pushing onto your sweetest spot and stilling there. Between his guttural groans, the perfect ‘O’ shape of his mouth and the thick loads of hot white cum that flooded your velvety walls, another coil snapped within you, a new round of arousal seeping out of your spent hole, except this time, much wetter and hitting you like a ton of bricks.

“Fuuuck, darling,” Wonwoo trembled as the last of his nectar oozed out, “did I just make you squirt?”

“Fuck off,” you scowled, wishing you had more energy to wipe the smug look plastered on your boyfriend’s face.

“So I did?” Wonwoo pursed his lips and scrunched his nose, a look you very much love but absolutely hate right now.

You let your bottom lip jut out in a pout, your brows drawing to the center of your face, “how could I not when you edged me like that!”

“You’re cute,” was his only response, very slowly slipping his softening cock out of you. Your sweet boyfriend peppered kisses all over your face, replacing your frown with a smile. “Did I make you feel good, darling?” He asked genuinely, not wanting to ever subject you to something which you didn’t enjoy doing.

You gave him a shy nod, pulling him closer by his neck to close the gap between your mouths and share a loving kiss, much like how it was way earlier. It didn’t take long for you to part, your lungs still recharging to full capacity after having all the air knocked out of you.

Wonwoo gave you more time to recover, resting his head on the crook of your neck to leave soft kisses on your skin, especially on the blooming bruises he left in his wake.

“Darling, you can’t sleep yet,” he shook you gently when he noticed your prolonged stillness.

A small whine escaped your lips, “but Woo… i’m tired.”

“I know, i know,” he hushed softly, “but we need to get you cleaned up and also, change the sheets. I’ll make it quick.”

You had no time nor energy to protest. You were simply being carried bridal style into the bathroom, your boyfriend making sure you peed before he went on to wash up yours and his sweaty body with warm water. He was so so tender with his touch, especially in all parts between your legs. He’d keep an observant eye to every reaction your face made, careful not to cause any pain.

“Can… can you be mine?” you squeaked, and Wonwoo giggled at the drunken look of love on your face. Every time you think nothing can top sex with your boyfriend in your own little list of World’s Most Wonderful Things, you’re reminded that aftercare by him exists.

“Darling, i’m already yours,” Wonwoo chuckles.

You noded with a grin, brain really starting to drift off into slumber, “I like that.”

He fixes his glasses by the bridge of his nose after giving you a once-over, now dressed in cotton panties and one of his large navy blue shirts which hung mid-thigh on you.

Wonwoo lifts you up to sit on the bathroom counter before cupping your cheeks to meet your eyes, “baby, can you sit here and wait for me for about 10 to 15 minutes, please? I need to change our sheets.”

He had expected you to whine and retaliate, knowing you were always extra clingy after sex, but you simply nodded and smiled. You think you felt his lips on your forehead but you aren’t too sure.

The moment Wonwoo slips out of the bathroom, you’re fighting not to fall asleep, but 15 minutes is long, and maybe you can just lean your head a bit on the cold marble tile—

“Let’s get you to bed, love,” the tall man chuckles as he lifts you in his arms. You swore it hadn’t been fifteen minutes, not even ten! But then he walks past your bed and out of your shared bedroom. The light of the hallway enough to stir your brain awake.

“Where are we going?” You ask, nuzzling your face on the crook of his neck as he cradles you into another room.

Wonwoo laughs at your question, “We have to take the guest bedroom for the night, darling. You’ve soaked through our mattress.”

[chaptersleftunwritten]

Pen Ink & Motor Oil

Blurb: Eddie has worked as a mechanic in Tucker’s busy garage for the past three and a half years and you have recently joined as the cute receptionist at the front desk. Based on this nonnie’s request!

Pairing: Mechanic!Eddie x Receptionist!Reader

Warnings: Eddie is in his late 20’s, reader is in her early 20’s, swearing, pet names, smoking (cigarettes) , reader referred to as girl, Eddie has a filthy mouth and the reader likes it. Sexual tension, dom!Eddie, sloppy kisses, fingering, choking, public intimacy, 18+

-

“Would you like a cup of tea? Maybe some coffee?” Your hands rub together furiously, hoping the friction will heat the delicate surface of your skin. This morning played out like it always did between you and Eddie— you would advert your eyes away from his intense gaze and he would toy with the colour on your cheeks like a puppeteer.

“I’ll take a bottle of Pepsi if there’s one in the fridge? Please.” You couldn’t understand his willingness to drink such icy cold liquid when the mornings were already becoming so chilly. Especially in the garage, the freezing cement of the floor and the bare brick of the walls made heat easily escapable.

“You’re crazy,” Laughing you reach down into the small refrigerator behind your desk, plucking out a glass bottle filled with the sugary brown beverage and handing it to Eddie. He lets out what can only be described as a moan as he eyes the bottle in his hand with such admiration, his strong fingers twisting off the bottle cap with ease.

“Thanks, Cutie.” The metal head winks at you, his words leave his mouth with such charisma and fluidity that it makes your tired head buzz with excitement.

After a moment of ridiculous pause you finally clock back into reality, “That’s a cool party trick,” gesturing toward the bottle in Eddie’s manly hands he offers you a hum, smiling politely at you like he always does, “Doesn’t it hurt your hand?”

“Not really— I bet you could do it, if you tried.” He shrugs, his gigantic hand comes to clasp one of his breasts through the tarnished white fabric of his tank top, something you have recently realised he does a lot out of comfort and you can’t help the twitch of your fingertips as you long for the warmth of his soft inked skin against yours.

“Is there a lot booked in for today?” He leaves the bottle on the worktop, his creased boots scrape against the dusty floor as he inches toward your standing frame confidently. He peers over your shoulder, his strong nose is almost tickling the shell of your ear as he tries to read the schedule you had written up the shift before and your breath becomes trapped in the length of your throat at his close proximity.

Your thoughts are a scrambled mess as your nostrils fill with the brunettes intoxicating scent; subtle laundry detergent that smells like winter and clean linen, a fresh, almost minty, shampoo that radiates from his soft hair as it brushes your cheek and the smallest hint of cigarette smoke.

In your daze you blindly hadn’t acknowledged the fact that Eddie was basically bending you over the front desk. Your elbows were propped on the hard acrylic material, your ass perked up into the air and Eddie’s hulking frame was braced over you from behind, “Uhm…” You scream inwardly at yourself and your inability to form any sort of coherent sentence and thought.

“Uhm?” Eddie mocks, his voice deep and hushed. He lets out a small throaty laugh as his fingers dance over the neatly written page laid on the counter in front of you, “Can’t you read your own handwriting, Love?” Another sweet nickname that causes your legs to weaken.

He taps his fingertip on to the column that reads ‘Monday’ at the top of the grid and you can feel his wide grin against the back of your head, “Plenty of time for fun today.” Eddie purrs like a cat in your ear and your body involuntarily shivers at his breath against your neck.

“I’ll come check up on you in an hour or so, yeah? I think the first customer of the day will be arriving soon and I don’t wanna fuck this up.” It takes Eddie every ounce of self control he has to collar himself and retreat to the back of the garage where he can try and meet his deadline for the day. But in complete honesty, he couldn’t stop thinking about you.

His chocolate button eyes constantly flicking from the internal organs of a car to the swinging door that separates you from him. He wasn’t afraid to admit that he had developed quite a fondness for you— a little crush, perhaps. You were the nicest girl Tucker had ever hired; above qualified and the most beautiful. You might’ve been the prettiest girl he had ever seen. Gorgeous smile, kind eyes and not to mention a smokin’ bod. You always had this incomparable aroma lingering around you— a perfume he had never smelt before. It was addicting. You were addicting.

Two hours had passed now and Eddie was getting restless. He had already repaired what was needed to the engine and the customer was scheduled to be here any second— he just wanted to chat with you again, to make you laugh and see your skin flush with each of his not-so-discreet compliments. He loved spending time with you. You were the reason he looked forward to coming into work each day.

“Hey, Eddie?” Your gentle voice sings through the room as you poke your head through the door into his space and Eddie bounces to his feet a little too eagerly, his hands toying with an old oil covered rag.

“Yeah? You okay?” His body is reacting before his brain can protest and he is springing over to meet you by the door like an excited puppy. A smile grows on his face with every step closer he gets to you and he watches you shift in your shiny heels with anticipation.

“I’m okay!” You confirm, the palm of your hand resting on the large door which allows a gust of fresh hair to meet Eddie’s now dirtied up face, “The customer is here to check out their car— would you like to come and speak with them before they sign anything?”

“Should be all good to go, Princess.” Eddie winks at you and his heart flutters boldly at the sight of your rosy cheeks. He could never get enough of you— he could stare at you forever, “Hey, after this guy leaves… you wanna come and grab some lunch with me? I usually go to this little place down the street. They have pretty decent sandwiches and stuff.” His hands come to find his hair as he ties it up into a low bun and a sly smirk finds his lips as he watches you watching him, “It’ll be my treat?” Clocking your silence he presses you further for an answer and you nod your head like a startled deer, your lips slightly pouted and parted in embarrassment.

“I would like that!” You squeak, your hands fumbling with your white dress shirt as you try to flatten out the new wrinkles, “So… I’ll go and ring this guy up. And… and I’ll meet you out front?” You gulp loudly, wincing at the sheer volume of it and Eddie grins at you evidently amused.

“Sounds great. Just gotta scrub my hands and I’ll see you out there, Pretty girl.”

Eddie watches as you disappear from his view, he even strains his neck to try and catch a final glimpse of your ass as he desperately fights to calm his raging heart.

He feels all giddy on the inside. Soft and gooey like a chocolate brownie; only you have been able to make him feel that way. Eddie had a few notches in his belt, he slept his way through high school with chicks who kept him a secret but you… you knew you would flaunt him like he was a rare jewel. The last 7 months of your employment made you realise how drawn you were to the metal head. Eddie was precious to you.

And today… today you were going to tell him.

-

You skip alongside Eddie, your heels dragging along the pavement. You always wanted to look presentable and professional for the business, but these heels were killing your feet.

“You alright there, Love?” Eddie chuckles, his eyes flicking between your arched feet and your pain stricken face.

“Hmm? Oh! Yeah— I’m fine! These shoes are just kicking my ass.” You stop for a moment, sighing a quick breath of relief as the pressure eases from your feet and Eddie comes to stand in front of you. His lips curve upward into a grin and his eyes glitch with mischief.

“I can carry you? And you can take the shoes off?” You watch the muscles in his arms flex as he crosses them over his meaty chest and your jaw loosens on its hinges for a moment.

He wanted to carry you?

“Don’t be silly! I can muscle through this! Women have been doing this for centuries.” You snort a laugh, attempting to walk by his massive physique but Eddie’s large hand takes a hold of yours and in one swift and fluid like motion he is carrying you in his arms toward the small sandwich shop that is just out of view at the end of the street.

“Eddie!” You squeal, half laughing and half horrified. Your cheeks are set alight as your arms instinctively wrap around his neck tightly, clutching onto him for dear life out of fear of falling.

“Relax, I’m not gonna drop you.” You had never been this close to him before. You could see every freckle on his nose, every stroke of black oil and grease on his cheeks, every sprinkle and burst of light amber in his usually abysmal black eyes. The thickness of his eyelashes and his eyebrows and the pink plumpness of his lips.

You could study him for hours. You could hang a portrait of him in an art gallery— and yet it would pale in comparison to the true thing. Eddie Munson was crafted carefully by Aphrodite herself. He was utter perfection. And you wanted to kiss him so bad.

“Like what you see, Princess?” He smirks at you devilishly, his dark hues shift every few seconds between your gawking expression and the footpath ahead.

“What if I did?” Bold. Even for you, and it was amusing to watch Eddie’s confident mask fumble.

“Then I would have to agree that I also like what I see…” He stops walking, his eyes solely focused on you now and you shift under his gaze— wiggling in Eddie’s buff arms.

“You do?” You can’t help that his confession catches you off guard. You knew Eddie enjoyed your presence, it was evident in the way he would always make excuses to come through to the front and talk to you. Eddie never usually had cause to be at the front desk unless it was to hand a customer their car keys back— but he always found a way to weasel his way through.

‘Have you got a pen I can borrow?’ There was always one tucked behind his ear.

‘Did I leave any tools through here? I’m missing my screwdriver…’ He had plenty to spare.

‘Do you need any help with anything?’ He was hopeless when it came to schedules.

‘Hey, is there any cold ones in the fridge today?’ He knew there was.

‘You got the time, Sweet girl?’ He wore a watch of his own.

He knew how to make you smile and he did it continuously every single day with his perky can-do attitude and his admirable personality. Eddie Munson checked all of your boyfriend boxes. He’s good with his hands, not afraid to get down and dirty, he is scarily strong and stupidly handsome. If it weren’t deemed inappropriate you would worship the ground his work boots walked on.

“Don’t act so surprised— I haven’t been so discreet with what I think of you, Sweetheart.” He was right, but you also couldn’t fully believe him. Eddie Munson thought you were attractive? It made you wanna laugh.

“Y’know… I’m not feeling too hungry anymore,” There’s a glint of desire that shimmers in Eddie’s dark eyes and you match his lustful enthusiasm, “What’d ya say we head back? I wanna… show you something…”

And by ‘show you something’ he meant that he wanted you to see the back of your skull as your eyes roll from the feeling of him pumping inside of you.

“Let’s go… let’s go now!” You don’t care how desperate you sound as Eddie turns on his heels and flees back toward Tucker’s. You are a giggling mess in Eddie’s arms and he chuckles warmly alongside you. You both have at least 10 minutes left of your lunch break as you burst back into the office and the next customer is due soon so this will have to be somewhat quick…

-

You wish you could pinch yourself to ensure you weren’t dreaming but your hands were too busy snaking through the thick fluffy curls of Eddie’s hair. It doesn’t take much effort for his wet tongue to dominate yours in a passionate and needy kiss.

His strong fingertips grip the soft flesh of your hips and his hands are like a powerful vice as he clings to you hungrily, “Can I touch you?” He asks between laboured breaths and you nod with a sweet hum. You can feel the swell of his cock pressing against you and you couldn’t think of anything you want more than to have his hands roaming your body.

“Fuck— you’re so fucking beautiful.” His thumb traces the line of your jaw, settling on your chin where he demands that your eyes meet his, “Wanna fuck you so bad, but I don’t think we have time today, Sweet girl.”

You pout out your bottom lip and Eddie chuckles darkly at the sight, “Think my fingers will do, hmm?” He cocks a brow, his rough finger tips dance up the length of your inner thigh before he is clasping his hand over the mound of your underwear. He sucks in a deep breath at the contact, struggling to control the raging storm of his hormones, “I’ve wanted this for so long, you have no idea.”

“Me too.” You gasp as Eddie’s fingers start rubbing tedious and teasing circles over your clothed clit, eliciting soft breathy moans from you.

“You’re gorgeous and your moans are pretty too— how lucky can a guy get?” You whine and swirl your hips down to meet Eddie’s movements, your body craving more of his touch and the filthy man doesn’t hesitate to slip his fingers past the lace of your panties.

Warm skin touching skin has your mind reeling with sin, “Getting impatient?” Eddie clicks his tongue, his free hand coming to curl around your neck. You welcome the action and your vision shifts as Eddie’s touch tightens on either side of your throat, “Tell me how good it feels, Baby.”

He punctuates his words by thrusting two of his long slender fingers inside of your aching slick hole and you release a dampened moan as your eyes flutter closed in ecstasy.

“Feels so good…” Your voice is a quiet whimper and Eddie shakes his head disapprovingly, his fingers curling inside of you and thrusting quicker and harder.

“Couldn’t hear you, Love…” His lips pepper kisses along your face until his mouth rests at the curve of your ear, “Speak up, Pretty girl.”

You feel as though you could cry at how good the tattooed brunette was making you feel. You hadn’t experienced anything quite like it before; all of this praise, the choking and the dominance. It felt good to let everything go— to give yourself to him.

“So good, Eddie! Feels so so good!” You’re a babbling, moaning mess beneath Eddie’s touch but you are beyond the point of caring as your euphoric release rushes toward you. Each skilled pump of Eddie’s decorated fingers leaves your walls clenching and your thighs quivering beneath you.

A wolfish growl rumbles deep within Eddie’s throat and he forces his knee between your thighs, leveraging you upright and keeping your back pressed against the brick wall.

“Gonna cum for me, Angel? Gonna cum around my fingers?” His pace quickens, if that were even possible and your eyes roll to the back of your head as your front teeth pierce your bottom lip, gnawing and nibbling at the plump skin like a desperate bunny.

You nod your head, but Eddie isn’t having any of it, “Words!” His fingers grab your face roughly and you open your lips in a pant, moaning greedily.

“Yes! Yes, I’m gonna cum! Please— fuck!” His chocolate eyes look fiercely into yours, dark and domineering; controlling.

Your orgasm shakes your body from the top to the bottom and you let out a noise that can only be described as a erotic scream and in a fit of slight panic Eddie pushes his hand flush against your mouth as you continue to ride out your high on his fingers.

“Shhh… gonna get us caught.” He offers you an egotistic toothy grin and your chest rises and falls with every intense breath you take in through your nose.

Eddie’s eyes flicker to the watch on his wrist, his eyebrows knitting in thought, “Looks like our lunch break is over…” He removes his hand slowly from your reddened and slightly swollen mouth, “Maybe we can continue this later…” a smirk never wavering from his face as he says, “Same time tomorrow, Princess?”

-

taglist: @colorful-white-ideas @littlered0000 @ali-r3n @daisy-munson @serenadingtigers @rainybloo28 @munson-enthusiast @godcreatoreli @littlefreckles4 @what-the-jams @tlclick73 @ameliapond1995 @thepurplelovewitch @somethingvicked @costellation-hunter @munsonzgf @emxxblog @ingridvasquez @sadbitchfangirl @im-julessssss @munsonburn3r @unclecrunkle @cierra222 @ziggeddie @yarafae @sidthedollface2 @kellsck @your-nightmaredoll

[pure-smut]

infatuated.

featuring: Ryomen Sukuna x f!reader

contains: college!Sukuna, size kink, Sukuna has a huge dick (obvs), riding, obsessive behaviour from Sukuna at the end

note: all characters are aged up to 18+!

word count: 1.8k

series: 1. infatuated | 2. obsessed | 3. addicted | 4. toxic | 5. feral

masterlist

MDNI | 18+ content

Ryomen Sakuna is well-known around campus – big, brutish, the most arrogant man to walk the planet. But if whispers amongst the girls were anything to go by, he’s also a damn good fuck.

It’s why you, fresh off the anti-climactic evaporation of a sub-par situationship that had no right to make you feel as glum as you do, have the sudden desire to fuck Sukuna.

You’re in a club, drowning your sorrows with your friends, when you lock eyes with him across the room. It’s not hard – he’s a head and a half taller than everyone else. But he doesn’t look away. And, you realise, neither do you.

Yeah, he might be a walking red flag. Yeah, you might be bitter and sad over a failed not-relationship. But it’s not like you’re fucking his personality, right? Just one good night. Just one really, really good fuck. Then you can wake up tomorrow, satisfied and ready to move on.

You down your drink and stalk over to him. Time to put those whispers to the test. *

Okay, maybe there’s some truth to the rumours.

One quick drink and a cab ride later, Sukuna has you on his lap, straddling his thighs as you make out on his sofa. He’s so big your legs are basically spread for him already, slotted on either side of his thighs as his hands grope your ass shamelessly.

He didn’t say much to you when you asked him to come home with you. Only a grin played on his lips as he grabbed your hand and said, “No. You’re coming to mine.”

You hadn’t expected him to be such a good kisser though. Your hands card through the pink hair at the nape of his neck as he slides his tongue over yours. Even with you on top of him, you know he’s actually the one in control. He dictates the pace, the speed, everything. Where your previous situationship had demanded that you do all the work, this relinquishing of control feels good. Freeing. You melt into it and into him, pressing your chest against his.

When Sukuna feels you relax, he pushes your dress up past your hips. One large finger hooks onto your panties from behind, pulling them to the side. Without breaking the kiss, he dips his free finger between your folds, checking how wet you are. You gasp at the sudden feel of his calloused finger but Sukuna quickly swallows it. At the feel of your slick arousal, his cock throbs.

“So wet already,” he murmurs, pulling his mouth back only slightly. “Just from kissing?”

Your cheeks burn but you’re distracted by a thick finger prodding your entrance. You gasp lightly and push your hips back, seeking more. Sukuna chuckles.

“I knew you were needy when you threw yourself at me tonight but still…” He grins. “You really do need a good fuck.”

“S-shut up,” you manage to stammer out but Sukuna only laughs.

He withdraws his hand and you have to supress a whine. Instead he undoes his jeans and pulls his cock free. It slaps against your stomach, hard and hot. When you look down at it, your eyes widen. Sukuna smirks – he always loves the look a girl gives him when she sees his cock for the first time.

“I don’t… I don’t know if it’ll fit.” You swallow past the lump in your throat. It’s so big, you want to say but you don’t want to feed his ego any more than necessary.

“That’s why you’re on top, baby.” Sukuna gives an easy grin. “You probably won’t be able to take it all so just do whatever you can.”

His condescending tone makes you frown. You jut your chin out defiantly. Oh, I’ll take it all, you think to yourself. Smug bastard.

You raise your hips, hovering over his fat mushroom tip. You’re already wet but he hasn’t even fingered you to prep you so you know you need to go slow. But determination courses through you. Sukuna watches you, one eyebrow cocked in amusement, as you look down in concentration. Slowly, you sink down onto his cock.

Your nails dig into the thick muscle of his shoulders as you leverage yourself. The stretch is immense but it’s delicious too – a heady mix of burning pleasure. Sukuna puts his hands behind his head, a self-assured smile on his lips as he watches you. He loves this part – loves watching girls struggle to fit him inside them. It makes his ego swell as much as his cock.

You manage a few inches before you have to stop, sweat already glazing your brow. You reach down to play with your clit, making yourself as wet as possible. Sukuna bites his bottom lip as he watches you play with yourself, a third of his cock buried inside you. You feel him throb and it only spurs you on, your pussy drooling around him, stretching to accommodate him.

“You look pretty fucking hot like this,” Sukuna admits, bringing one hand forward to grope your tit. “You need some help, baby?”

You’re too busy concentrating to speak so you give a short nod. Sukuna tweaks your nipple, rolling it between his fingers in a way that shoots sparks through your whole body. You tip your head back and gasp, feeling yourself tumbling closer to an orgasm. Even though he’s not fully inside you, his cock is managing to rub against your walls in a way that makes your eyes rolls back.

Sukuna has to admit he’s enjoying himself. The sight of you making yourself cum on his cock is pornographic and your pussy is squeezing him so tight. He has to fight to urge not to thrust up. Instead, he roughly plays with your tits, enjoying the way your nipples stiffen under his touch. Your body is so responsive to him, so ready for him. Your gummy walls massage his cock in a way that makes him want to go feral. Every muscle in his body is taut as a bowstring, restraining himself.

You open your eyes to see the hunger in his face, a notch between his brows and his lips slightly parted, eyes intense. A thrill runs up your spine. You want to see him hungrier.

Still rubbing your clit, you lower your hips and sink further onto his cock. This time, you’re able to take a few more inches, your pussy enveloping him tightly. Sukuna can’t stop himself from moaning this time, your plush walls hugging him. His hands drop to your hips, holding them with an iron grip.

“Fuck,” he breathes. “That’s good, baby, you’re doing so good.”

You’re taking him better than he thought you would. You’re two-thirds down, your lips gripping him as though you don’t want him to leave. Nevertheless, you slowly bob up and down, never fully withdrawing. The sensitive head of his cock rubs a euphoric friction against your walls, making you both moan contentedly. Sukuna half wants to stay like this forever, never leaving the hot, soft grip of your sweet pussy. The other half of him wants to pin you down and make a mess of your insides, painting your pussy white with his cum.

Your fingers pick up speed against your clit. The combination of Sukuna’s girth stretching your hole and your fingers rubbing your sensitive bud are bringing you close to the edge. You’ve nearly taken him all and you know you can do more – you just need to cum first to loosen up.

“Ah, fuck, that’s it,” Sukuna groans, his grip on your hips tightening to stop himself from bucking his hips. “Fuck yourself on my cock, baby.”

And so you do. You bounce up and down until your legs cramp, but even then, you ignore it and keep going. You rub tight circles on your clit, the way you know you like, and throw your head back in an silent scream.

“Fuck… fuck!” you squeal as your orgasm rushes through you, curling your toes and arching your back.

Sukuna watches you, his eyes flicking down to your pussy to watch your juices run down his cock. He’s almost painfully hard, teased to the brink of his own orgasm. When girls can’t take him all, he usually waits for them to finish on him before getting them to suck him off, bringing him to a finish in their mouth.

But you…

When you come down from riding your high, there’s a spark of defiance in your eyes. You plant your hands on his shoulders and, locking eyes with him, you sink your hips down until your thighs meet his.

Sukuna’s eyes widen. His breath hitches. He looks down to see you joined together, his cock fully buried inside you.

You’ve taken all of him.

“Fuuucck.” Sukuna groans long and loud, the new sensation of his cock being fully enveloped almost making him cum right then and there.

You grin, a sense of accomplishment spurring you on. Your legs are still sore so you grind against him instead, leaning forward to suck sweet kisses on his neck.

“Holy shit.” Sukuna buries his fingers even deeper into your hips, encouraging you to grind harder. “That feels so fucking good, baby.”

Your pussy is addictive. Sukuna wants to live here like this, fully sheathed inside you as your soft, hot walls milk his cock. He’s never known this sensation before, this delicious heat as your bodies fully connect. Your plush ass nestled against his thighs, your clit rubbing against him as you grind, your lips wrapped around him to the base of his cock. Fuck. You’re incredible, he thinks.

“Cum inside me, Sukuna,” you whimper in his ear.

You don’t need to tell him twice. Sukuna growls animalistically, burying his face in your neck as his cock throbs once. Twice.

You feel him explode inside you, hot, sticky cum coating your walls. You keep grinding until he’s done, milking him for all he’s worth. It’s only when you make to move away, to pull your puffy pussy away from his cock that he hardens his grip on you again.

Before you can ask him what’s wrong, he captures your lips in a deep kiss. It’s a surprise but a pleasant one – you didn’t take Sukuna for someone who kissed after sex. You make out for a while, his cum leaking out around his softening cock. It’s only when your thighs are slick with both of your juices that you pull away again.

“Thanks, Sukuna.” You smile at him. “I needed that.”

You hop off his lap, satisfied. To you, the plan worked. You’re content and ready to move on from your shitty situationship.

But Sukuna has never cum inside anyone before. Never been able to. Never met anyone who could take all of him. He watches you pad away to the bathroom to clean up, humming happily. You might be going home tonight, content and oblivious, but something dark stirs inside Sukuna. He knows he’s never letting you go.

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[wandaslittlepsycho]

Precious

pairing: 𝚌𝚛𝚊𝚣𝚢!𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚊 ༝༝ 𝚏𝚎𝚖!𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

summary: your bunny slips through the crack of your front door and you run after her in hopes of catching the pet again. You get lost but your time still ticks, nightfall inching closer and closer as you inevitably sink further into the woods. Luckily, your eyes spot a cabin, and you become acquaintances with the unusual redhead that resides there.

warnings: dubcon, filthy smutty smut smut, HEAVYYYY dacryphilia, groping, dry humping, praise kink, thigh riding (r receiving), mid writing, wanda is lowkey a sadist, slightly unhinged crazy yet loveable and sexy cabin wanda, age gap > r is 20 w is 32

A/N: first fic!!! hi… im very new to writing fics so please be nice ૮꒰ྀི >⸝⸝⸝<꒱ྀིა (i wrote this listening to a true crime documentary idk)

kind of a messy plot but I still hope my little freaks enjoy…… and I’m also sorry this took longer than expected I just kept contemplating if it was good or absolute shit </3

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this is a dark fic. 18+. wlw. men & minors dni!

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It’s getting pretty late…

You think to yourself, hugging your shoulders as you look up at the overcast sky.

How did I end up here in the first place?

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You move a leaf to the side and pick the fresh strawberry that was stashed there, rinsing it in your small bucket of water and taking a mouthful of the delicious treat.

You hear a shuffle beside you. Turning your head, you see a white bunny hiding behind one of your sunflower pots. You smile and place another strawberry onto the ground before slowly walking away. Your eyes relish how cute the little animal is as they chomp away at your colourful fruit.

You stand in the corner of your garden and decide from then on, you’d feed the hungry bunnies that would stroll into your neighbourhood.

A few days pass and you quickly became friends with two specific bunnies who you named Clover and Daisy. You eventually took them in as your own, rottenly spoiling both of the creatures. You loved having them around because living alone in a small town that was an hour away from the city can definitely become lonely.

“This tastes like candy to you doesn’t it Daisy?” You say as you hold out your hand and watch her nibble it up. The fur around her mouth is stained purple, you laugh at the sight.

“Okay that’s enough blueberries for tonight! You’ll get sick if you keep eating those.” You click the plastic container shut, standing up and walking into your kitchen. You place the container in the side compartment of your fridge for tomorrow and stroll back into your living room.

Your brows furrow. Daisy is gone. Daisy and Clover are such good bunnies, they never leave your sight for more than a minute. You assume she ran to her sister Clover, but your eyes widen in horror when you see your front door slightly more cracked open than it was before you left.

You anxiously open your phone and dial your best friend Frankie. You ramble to her about how stupid you felt for leaving the door open, like you are an irresponsible parent who’s no smarter than a bag of rocks. She calmly tells you to go look for Daisy and that she’ll come over as soon as she can to watch Clover.

“Thank you so so much, Frankie. I don’t know what I’d do without you.” You sigh in relief, a hand pressed over your chest. You feel your heart jump underneath your palm and your lips trembling with every breath.

“It’s no problem, Y/N/N. Now go look for that bunny, I’ll be over in 5.”

“Bye, thank you again..” You hang up the phone and dart out the door. You frantically look through your shrubs and call her name, but a bright white spot in your peripheral steals your attention.

There she is, bouncing her way into the open forest across the road from you. As soon as she hops out of your view you race towards her, carelessly running past two moving cars. You ignore the frustrated yelling and the beeping horns, continuing to boost into daisies direction.

“DAISY! WAIT!!”

You yell, but your shouting only seems to spur her on. You run after her and neither of you lose pace. You turn corners, run through mud and almost slip doing so at least two times. The animal suddenly picks up it’s speed, turning abruptly and disappearing into a thick bush. You get on your knees and practically rip this bush to shreds, but she was already long gone. Daisy is no more.

You feel tears sting your eyes, ears and cheeks becoming hot from your stress. You sniffle and wipe your tears with the sleeve of your jacket. You knew it was impossible to look for her now. That bunny became your life in just a couple of days, she felt like a childhood pet. The thought of never seeing her again made your heartstrings tie themselves into knots.

You lose the path you were on but you couldn’t care less. You lost your beloved bunny baby; life is no longer worth living. You wonder if Clover’s okay, and how exactly you’d break the news to her.

So lost and full of woe, mind not even switched on, you didn’t notice the thick tree root in front of you until you stub your foot against it and fall forward. You wince and slowly stand up again. Dusting the crunchy leaves off of your clothes, you use the back of your hand to wipe the dripping bead of blood from your cheekbone.

Great, a cut. I’ll have to clean that up when I get home..

You wonder aimlessly with your head hung low. A brisk breeze that brushes past you is what makes you finally look up.

You hug your shoulders as you stare at the gloomy airspace. The sun isn’t beaming, only a variation of different grey clouds flood the sky.

A person? This far out on in the woods?

Wanda thinks. She watches you with a deranged, curious look as you weave yourself through the webs and bushes, seemingly extra careful about tree roots.

You look up from the ground, scanning the area around you and pause when you see the warm glow of her cabin.

My god, she’s gorgeous.

She takes a swift step back so she’s not in the frame of the window anymore, her brows furrowing. She stares at the wall, she hasn’t seen an actual person in so long.

What is a girl like you doing traipsing in the woods?

She peeks again and now you’re making your way over, big wary eyes cautiously examining your surroundings. A shiver rocks through you as you cough into your elbow, then using that arm to place three firm knocks on the door.

You sigh while you wait for someone to answer the door. You switch from tippy toes to the heel of your feet in a nervous manner. The cabin looks great, almost pristine, there’s no way it’s abandoned.

You feel stupid for going into a cabin in the woods. It’s like some dumb movie; you’re just hoping you don’t end up dead. You expect to see an old, wrinkled man the size of a third grader, but your eyes widen when a tall red headed woman swings the door open. You stutter, stunned that a woman like her would live in a place so isolated.

Holy shit, she’s fine.

“Hi, um.. I know it’s a lot to ask but can I stay here for a little bit? I… got lost.” You fiddle with your fingers. She chuckles as she crosses her arms, biting her lip and letting her eyes run up and down your fidgety figure.

“No it’s not asking anything at all. It’s not like I get visitors very often.” She moves to the side and welcomes you in. You look up at her and mumble a small thank you, slowly stepping inside her warm homestead.

The smell of firewood burning and sweet lavender conquer your senses. The comforting atmosphere relaxes you despite how unfamiliar it is. You kick off your boots and grab them so you can neatly place them next to the door. She shuts the door and clicks it locked, quietly making her way over to what looks like her kitchen.

You drink in the sight around you. A tall, cobblestone fireplace lined up against the wall with wood already burning inside of it. A soft lounge suite with a fluffy mat sitting right underneath it. There’s a short hallway and two doors, one you assume leading into her bedroom and the other probably being her bathroom.

One thing you notice in particular is a painting, one with two women sitting on a red velvet couch. One is dressed in white, the other is dressed in black and they both have lace blindfolds wrapped around their heads.

Their Victorian dresses were detailed and long, their lips so close but afraid to touch and give in.

You look away and clench your fists. Your face is now hot, when you entered a remote cabin in the woods, a gay victorian painting was the last thing you expected.

“Take a seat, make yourself comfortable.” The woman’s hoarse voice echoes through the room. Your ears perk up when they catch a touch of an accent.

Is she some type of Russian? That’s hot.

Your anxious form shifts over to her couch to sit down. You sigh in relief, your aching bones melting into the man made cloud that was this woman’s sofa.

“So what’s your name, milaya?” The woman hands you a cup. Your cold fingers feel fuzzy against the hot mug, shuffling back further into her couch so you can sit up comfortably.

“Y/N. You?”

“Wanda.”

A small smile sits on her face that is on some level, disturbing. It’s such a beautiful smile but you can feel something is not right with her. Your intuition has never made itself more distinct, it was less noticeable when you were walking alone outside.

The room feels like it’s getting smaller, the claustrophobia whips the air right out of your lungs. Your eyes flicker between hers. The room starts to spin. Your ears start to ring. Before you could pass out cold, she cups your chin, the gentle gesture pulling you out of your panicked state.

“That’s a nasty cut isn’t it? Would you like me to take care of that?” She says, her tone coaxing. Your curious eyes linger on her,

Why is this stranger being so generous?

If someone entered your home and needed to stay the night, you’d tell them to get lost. She caresses your face softly while she stares at the wound.

“No it’s oka-“ She suddenly pushes a finger to the fresh cut, forcing you to wince and pull away from her. She looks at you in a way you can’t describe, your reaction seemingly piqueing her interest. Her pupils dilate but not enough for you to notice. You look at her with fearful eyes and think to yourself,

Who would do that?

“Actually, that would be nice. Thank you..”

~

Your eyes switch between the steaming drink in your hand and the obviously unhinged redhead sitting next to you. Her aura is intimidating, but you convince yourself it’s paranoia.

I’m in a remote cabin deep in the woods.

Who wouldn’t be unsettled? She’s nice and she helped you…stop being dumb Y/N!

“Thank you again for cleaning my cut, Wanda.” You try to strike up a conversation, but all you’re met with is painful silence. She watches your lips touch the ring of the porcelain teacup, then moving her eyes up to meet your own.

“You’re very observant aren’t you?” You refer to her endless stare, disguising your discomfort with a small chuckle. Her smile widens.

"Fascinuješ ma, miláčik.” “You fascinate me, darling.”

Your brows squeeze together. You wish you could understand what she said, but it felt rude asking her to repeat that in English. You result in shyly looking away and focus on your dangling feet.

Her hand occasionally runs down your back or strokes your arm. Her icy featherlight touches cause goosebumps to ride over your skin. She notices your eyes following her fingers, a mischief smirk hiking up her cheeks.

“You’re so lucky I’m here to help you, dear. What was a girl like you doing in the woods all alone?” Her hand lands on your knee, slowly climbing up closer to your heat and lightly massaging the flesh there. You squirm when she inches closer to your mound, but you’re in her home. She could do anything to you if you said something that upset her.

What if she’s just being nice? I don’t want to offend her…

“I- uh- I was hunting?” You try to paint yourself as tough but fail spectacularly; you can tell by the way she squints her eyes when she hears your answer.

“If that were true, you’d have hunting gear on you, sweetie.” She moves your hair to the other side of your neck to expose the milky skin there. She gawks at your neck like a predator creeping on her prey, ready to pounce on you at any given moment.

The thought of kissing and licking at your silky skin and the vivid image of you biting your plush pink lips made her tremble with desire.

You shrink, staring at the drink in your hands and feeling a strike of vulnerability as you quietly say the words, “I was chasing a bunny..”

“Aww aren’t you precious?” She praises. She toys with the soft threads of your hair, your cheeks glowing a rosy pink from her comment. Her hand squeezes your thigh more roughly, the unexpected act making you jump.

“Such a pretty thing.” She whispers to herself. You don’t catch her words, so you hum and tilt your head, showing your confusion in hopes she would repeat herself.

“Oh… nothing.” She quickly replaces her shock with a crooked grin. Your lips stretch into a small and nervous smile, slowly putting the cup to your mouth again.

A few more moments of silence are present. The crackling of burning wood and the crickets chirping in the distance gave you a chance to finally breathe, although you still struggle to ignore her invasive presence.

“Put the drink down.” You look at her in surprise. You stutter, taken aback by her orders but don’t dare ask any questions. You lick your lips and shuffle, leaning forward to sit the drink on her coffee table. You then move back against the couch and stare into the orange flames in front of you.

“Do you like when people are rough with you, angel?”

You freeze hearing her question. She tucks a stray strand of hair behind your ear ever so gently, grinning when she sees the sheer terror written on your face. There was something eerie about the way she had asked you, a corrupted little twinkle beaming from her eyes.

“Well, no.. N-Not really why?” Your voice is shaking. You know for sure now that this woman is not in her right mind. She could be capable of doing anything and you wouldn’t expect it. She flashes you a charming smile as she continues to twirl and play with your hair, leaning closer to you before whispering,

“Can I tell you a secret?” Your breath hitches softly and your body tenses at the close proximity. You refuse to look at her. You cement your eyes to the flickering fire in front of you. Her hand smoothly travels from your thigh to the zip of your corduroy jacket, slowly pulling down at the metal teeth to reveal your white v-neck shirt and ruby necklace. The sound of your zipper in the unsettling silence makes your skin crawl. You could almost hear the ominous, suspenseful background music. You don’t know what would happen if you deny her, so you hesitantly nod your head.

“I like hurting people… Especially pretty toys like you. I haven’t done it in a long time though.” Her eyes hungrily take in your chilled expression. You gulp when she pulls the jacket off of your shoulders and throws to the side.

“I love to see girls cry, tears running down their sweet little faces…” Her hands rub your upper arms soothingly as she rubbed her nose into the nape of your neck, inhaling your scent. You found yourself unable to move or respond, giving in to her game and listening to her sick train of thought.

“Can I make you cry, please, sweet girl?” She mumbles into your neck, gently nipping at the sensitive skin there. Your breathing becomes heavier, needing her so very badly you start to tune out the blaring alarms in your head.

“Wanda listen-” She moves on top of you. She situates herself between your legs giving you no chance to close them, running her hands up and down your thighs. It all happened so fast.

“Pretty please? You’d look so good..” She becomes breathless at the thought, lunging forward and forcefully pushing her lips onto yours. Her lips feel pillowy and soft against yours, she smells of sweet vanilla and a smoky but subtle cinnamon; the mix makes your brain go dizzy with want. She tangles her hands with yours so she can pin your frantic ones onto the couch. Butterflies dance in your stomach, adrenaline rushing through your veins. Her kiss is rough but somehow so soft at the same time, the conflicted feeling makes your heart flutter.

She puts all her body weight onto you, grinding her crotch into yours as she murmurs praises into your mouth. “You’re so fucking cute,” “It’s gonna feel so so good, just let me touch you..”

She slides her tongue across your lip, silently telling you to open your mouth. She angrily tightens her grip on your hands when you groan and clench your jaw shut, forbidding her access.

“Open your mouth, or I’ll find another way to make it stay open.” You whine quietly, slowly opening your mouth and letting her slide in. You whimper and squirm when her hands land on your hips, guiding you to grind against her knee.

“There you go, so so pretty grinding on me like that..” You grab handfuls of her sweater, the fabric of your cotton panties rubbing against you creating the perfect friction. You softly moan her name, back arching while hiding your face in her neck, ashamed how riled up you are from being taken advantage of. One of her hands move from your hip to your thigh, exploring the rest of your body before snaking up your stomach to grope at your breasts.

“Fuck,” She whimpers before biting down on your lip. She twists and teases your nipples between her fingers, feasting on the sight of your pathetic writhing.

“Wanda!” Your movements against her thigh become more frantic, so blissed out you couldn’t care about how needy and dumb you must look.

Your hands advance to her biceps, clutching onto her as you try reach the high you so deeply crave. Your heart thuds in your chest, sweat glistening on your forehead and gasping for air. Your tears soak her shirt, hating yourself for giving in to her but also not willing to stop.

“Cum, make a mess for me bunny..” Her hand grabs your chin and holds it still. You foolishly kept trying to turn your head, but your actions cease when her hand moves from your chin to wrap around your throat.

“Look at me when you cum.” She forces her face impossibly closer to yours, jutting out her jaw and admiring the sparkling tears falling from your eyes. Her breathing becomes ragged listening to your whines and sobs, the throb between her legs intensifying.

“I don’t want to..”

“I don’t care if you want to or not. I won’t let you move until you do.”

Your mouth falls open and your eyes roll to the back of your head, her cruel words somehow pushing you over the edge. Everything becomes white, your thighs shake and your body tenses. Waves of pleasure crash down on you, the euphoric feeling pulsing through you from head to toe.

She eagerly watches you fall apart from your first climax, knowing that she’s not even halfway done with you. Your chest rises and falls rapidly, eyes struggling to stay open and arms spread over the couch.

She carefully pushes her knee further into your pussy, your pleas and protests only making her more excited for what she plans next.

“I’m going to have so much fun with you, angel.”

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