#also i take suggestions of song to add

[kireisimp]

I made a Lunge playlist a while ago i thought i might share it here. I keep updating it from time to time

[emryste]

l'amour et la morte

[emily-mooon]

SCOTT PILGRIM CHARACTERS AS ALVVAYS SONGS PT 1: RAMONA FLOWERS + TILE BY TILE

‘Cause I’m still combing through missed connections/I shouldn’t have ever followed you up/I’m out here swimming in the wrong direction/ I shouldn’t have ever been calling it love

Song

NEXT ->

[writingkitten]

Molina-verse playlists so far! Let me know what you think!

[therighthandofvengeance]

As it’s his first solo album after leaving his band, “Marz Ryots”, John Sheridan is nervous about touring “Falling at Zha’Ha’Dum”. When Kosh, the house manager, tells him that he’s been double-booked with Grey Camerata, he has to discuss the best use of the time slot with the lead virtuosa (and soon-to-be conductor) Delenn Mir. Who’d’ve thought that the key to harmony was in her sharp mind?

[iluvmattsbeard]

down on my knees (m.s)

master list

nerd!matt x popular!reader

warnings: smut/oral sex (fem receiving)

preview: you assume matt is what he appears to be. a virgin nerd with no experience. when helping you study, you have him down on his knees, pleading to prove to you, he can take you there.

a/n: sorry i watched deadpool and wolverine. this song with the scene had me creaming. listen as you read. OKAY HOPE YOU LIKE THIS. LIKES, COMMENTS, AND REBLOGS ARE SO APPRECIATED. 🤍

everyone knew who you were. when your name is spoken, it's always the same thing said. you basically had a trance on everyone, especially a specific individual. this person would freeze up more than anyone else when you're around. the hold you have on this person is unbearable, even though you've never spoke to each other. the school's biggest nerd and easy target, Matt Sturniolo. it was no shock you haven't spoke to him. you never even blinked an eye at him. you two were in two different worlds, you had no business ever speaking to him and he for sure felt like he had no place to even be near you.

it's not like you choose to not know who he is. he doesn't put himself out there, he has no friends, and he's always just quiet. the only friends he had were his triplet brothers. you knew who Chris was because of his reputation in sports and you knew Nick because he was the talk of the school ever since he came out. like mentioned, Matt was absolutely hooked onto you. when you would enter the classroom, he feels his palms sweat and his eyes are glued onto you like he's seen an angel from heaven.

despite what everyone says about you, how mean, how stuck up, and how careless you can be, in his head, you're more than that. he blocks out all the negativity said about you and in his head, he has some delusion that he could figure you out. he feels deep down, there's more to you than your rough persona.

right now, it was lunch time. Matt is sat with his brothers and their friends. Chris and Nick, despite how different they are from Matt, they've always vowed to never let Matt be alone. they try to include him in everything but, he chooses to sit there in silence. he knew deep down he didn't fit in and it's obvious his brothers' friends also knew that.

he sits there quietly as he pokes at his food. his attention is soon caught, it's like he has a radar, he looks up slightly as you walk past their table. you were with your friends, talking to them as you head over to your table. for Matt, it was all in slow motion as you walked by. he swears he can see your skin glisten and the way your hair bounced, he was in a trance. "dude." he instantly gets brought back to reality when he hears Chris' voice, "you're staring- again." Matt looks back down at his food as he swallows slightly, "was I?" he asks quietly, a bit embarrassed he's been caught. this wasn't the first time though.

"yes. what is your obsession with her? you've never even spoke to her." Chris utters with a bit of food in his mouth. Matt looks at him with a bit of disgust, "can you swallow your food first?" Matt suggests, which makes Chris chuckle and swallow his food. "okay well, what is your obsession with her?" he repeats his question, "you've never talked to her and trust me, she's way out of your league." he adds on, making Matt tense up a bit. it was true, he really didn't belong in your world. it would make no sense, the two of you colliding. "i'd save yourself the heart break." Chris speaks up again.

"how would you know?" Matt mutters, making the brother raise an eyebrow slightly, "how do I know what?" he asks confused. "how do you know she would break my heart? if I haven't even tried?" Matt asks stupidly. he knew the answer already but once again, a little part of him believes he could break down your walls if he just had the confidence. Chris laughs at his question, "no offence but, look at you." he pauses glancing over at me, "now look at her. she would crush you." he finishes as he stuffs his mouth again. there was no point in Matt continuing this conversation. Matt looks over at you and sighs. "heaven help me." he thought to himself.

later that day, Matt walks into his final class, which to his delight, you were in. he makes his way to the back of the class, sitting down in his usual seat. he begins to take out his notebook and textbook as he lets out a quiet breath. you walk in, once again, Matt's eyes land on you and he blocks out everything else. as he watches your every move, he expects you to just walk to your usual seat in the front. he then sees you walk down his aisle, he swears he's just imagining things. you're looking right at him, making his heart stop. eventually, he gets knocked from his trance as you sit in the seat next to him.

"no one sits here right?" you ask Matt, not even looking over at him. he gulps as he begins to speak up, "n-no." he manages to let out. Matt shuts his eyes and turns to face the front. he feels like he sounded like a loser. you sit there silently as you secretly go on your phone while the class starts. Matt can't help but take small glances at you. he felt nervous even though you were just minding your own business. "what is going on?" he thought to himself. why were you suddenly sitting in the back? right next to him? he shakes off the questions as he tries his best to focus on the teacher's voice.

as days go by, Matt notices you continuing to choose to sit in the back, right next to him. it was like a dream but, still no words exchanged between you two but the first day you sat there. where he thought he sounded like an idiot, even though all he said was no to your question. Matt sits there quietly, he notices you dozed off into your arms as the teacher speaks. he can’t help but look at you in admiration. you looked peaceful; sleeping angel like. you flutter your eyes open, catching his gaze as you whisper groggily, "were you just watching me sleep?" you ask sitting up. his eyes widen and he quickly shakes his head, "what- no- I was just- nervous for you." he lets out panicked. you laugh quietly while you shake your head, "relax, it was just a question." you say surprisingly okay with catching him just now.

Matt feels his heart racing as he lets out an exhale of relief. "did I miss anything important?" you ask looking at him. was this really happening? were you really actually trying to have a conversation with him? "u-uh... not really." he mutters nervously. "okay that's good. i'm like very behind in this class." you say which, it's like the teacher heard you, the teacher speaks up, "Y/n, Matt, I need to talk to you both at the end of the class." Mr. Lionel says. you groan quietly before speaking up, "okay..." Matt's head is racing. why did he have to speak to the both of you? the BOTH of you...

when the final bell rings, you and Matt get up at the same time, heading over to the front of the class. you both stop in front of Mr. Lionel's desk as you let out a sigh, "what's it about?" you ask not enthused at all. he clears his throat, "well, Y/n, i'm sure you're aware that your grade in this class isn't the best." he starts off, "Matt here, can help you bring that grade up if you're willing." you look over at Matt, your eyes trailing down his figure slowly. he gulps as he watches you analyze him, "what is she thinking?" he thought to himself.

you look back at your teacher before nodding and speaking up, "alright." if Matt's heart was racing before, it is now bouncing off the walls. alright? that's all you had to say? no argument?

Mr. Lionel looks over at Matt, "you okay with that Matt?" he asks, snapping him back to reality, "what? uh- y-yeah." Matt responds sheepishly, his cheeks a bit flustered. "great. you two speak to each other and come up with an arrangement that's good for the both of you." the teacher says, making you both nod. he greets you and Matt goodbye, Matt instantly walking out the classroom. he can't believe he was just assigned to tutor you, and YOU agreed. he continues walking down the hall before he hears his name being called.

"Matt!" he turns around quickly before locking eyes on you, heading over to catch up to him. he freezes in his place as he stutters out, "y-yeah?" he feels like his heart can't catch a break. "you want to come over tonight?" you ask so casually. meanwhile, Matt feels like he's about to explode. "w-what?" he asks a bit dazed. "to study." you add on with a small laugh. he blinks repeatedly before having the courage to respond, "yes!" he clears his throat, "yes... I would like that." he says, trying to push down his eagerness. "okay. give me your phone." you say, no question, he instantly pulls out his phone, fumbling a bit before he hands it to you.

you type in your number and send yourself a text so that you can receive his number as well. you hand back his phone before pulling out your own, "alright i'll text you the address. come over at like 5. that's when my parents aren't home." you say making him choke up, "w-what?" Matt asks nervously but you just wave at him and walk away.

as he gets in his car, he sits there still in disbelief. it's like his prayers have been answered. he also doesn't want to get his hopes up though. it's just tutoring, right? he's still confused by why you wanted him there without your parents home. it made his heart race once more. he gets pulled out from his thoughts as Chris and Nick stumble into the mini van. Matt clears his throat as he puts on his seat belt, "can you drive me to the mall later?" Chris asks as he puts on his own seat belt. "can't." Matt says bluntly, his younger brother's eyes widening slightly, "what- why?" he asks caught off guard. "i'm going to tutor someone later." Matt says, sparing the details but, that's all Chris had to know to not question even further. it's no surprise to him that Matt has to tutor someone. Matt was the smartest person he knew.

*time skip*

after spraying some cologne on himself, he walks out his room and out the house. when he's settled into the driver's seat, he pulls out his phone and puts your address into the GPS. he was still replaying your words earlier about how your parents would be out. his hands were gripping the steering wheel tightly as he makes his way to your house.

when he's arrived, he takes the key out of the ignition. he lets out a small sigh, his heart pounding at the fact he's actually about to be with you, alone. he gets out the car and makes his way up your pathway. he rings the doorbell, waiting anxiously as he looks around. nice house he thought to himself. after a bit, you open the door. Matt's eyes immediately running down your figure. you were in a matching pajama set. his heart stops, he was now feeling self conscious at the fact he's wearing a button up shirt. "hey, come in." you say as you open the door more for him to walk in. he steps inside nervously as he looks around. "come, my room is upstairs." you speak, already heading up the stairs. he follows closely behind you.

*time skip*

you both have been sat on your bed as you lay on your stomach, flipping through the text book. "s-so... do you understand it?" Matt asks, hoping he's done a good job at explaining the subject. you look at him with a blank expression, "no." you let out bluntly, a small laugh following afterwards. "o-oh well- I can explain it again-." he gets cut off by you, "no it's fine. this is hopeless." you sigh softly, closing your text book. "my brain hurts." you add on. Matt sits there, tensing up a bit as he clears his throat, "oh- w-well... maybe some other time." he says closing his text book. you two have been going over the subject for like a hour.

"you're leaving?" you ask curiously. Matt looks at you as he stuffs his textbook into his bag, "um... well I was assuming you were done..." he admits quietly. "oh I just thought we were taking a break." you chuckle, "but alright." he straightens up as he quickly chimes in, "oh that works too." not wanting to leave just yet. you sit up, now legs crossed as you look at him, "so... why did you want me over while your parents are gone?" he asks, gulping a bit. "no distractions." you respond casually. he was amazed by how easily you can speak. he feels like he has a lump in his throat. "do you always wear those button up shirts to tutor?" you ask tilting your head a bit. "uh... no- but- I just wanted to wear something nice." he stutters out nervously. did you think it was bad? your eyes trail over his shirt, "it's nice. suits you." you compliment. he didn't know if that was a good thing or bad thing. "dressing up for me or something?" you ask. "u-uh well- kind of- yes..." he sighs in defeat.

"that's sweet." you say with no emotion in your voice. "did you think this was going to go somewhere?" you ask bluntly. his eyes widen a bit, "what? what's that supposed to mean?" he asks a bit startled. "like were you expecting something out of this?" you ask, "like a handy or a blowjob or what?" the question makes his eyes widen even more, "what? of course not!" he responds panicked, "t-that's not- I- I wasn't even thinking that." he says flustered. you chuckle softly, "i'm just messing with you." you say before going on your phone, "you don't even seem like the type." you conclude. he's caught off guard, "w-what's that supposed to mean?" he asks. you look up from your phone and meet his gaze, "you don't seem like the type to do that stuff. I mean-" you pause putting your phone down, "do you even have experience?" you ask. "well... not exactly..." he admits embarrassed by the confession.

"see? I knew it." you let out a small humorous scoff. "I-I guess I just haven't had the time..." he says, trying to seem like he's too busy to gain experience, and not because he's a total loser. you raise an eyebrow slightly, "oh so it's not by choice?" you ask, not really believing it as you stand up and put your textbook back into your bag. he stays quiet for a bit before speaking up, "yeah no... just too busy for it..." he says quietly. you let out a small snark with a small grin, "yeah okay." you respond still not buying it. Matt has this sudden urge to fight back, he also knew you weren't buying it so he makes a move he never expected to make, "I mean I have the time now." he utters, making him widen his eyes a bit. you look up at him as you tilt your head slightly, "oh so you did come here expecting something." you say, crossing your arms. "no! no... but- forget it." he mumbles embarrassed as he picks up his bag.

you sit at the edge of the bed as you speak up, "no. go ahead. since you have time." you say, not having very high expectations. he freezes in his spot as he looks at you, "w-what?" he asks with his heart pounding. "you heard me." you say, propping your arms back behind you slightly. he puts his bag down slowly as he steps in front of you. he looks down at you as you tilt your head a bit. you blink up at him, waiting for his move, not amused. Matt then slowly gets on his knees, your eyes follow him, now looking down at him. he places his hands nervously on the waistband of your pajama shorts. he looks up at you and back down at his hands as he begins to slide your shorts down slowly, revealing your white lace panties. his breath hitches in his throat as he continues to pull them down your silky legs, now leaving you in just your panties. he takes a moment to admire you in front of him as he begins to kiss your inner thighs slowly and softly, making you roll your eyes a bit at how slow he's being. he then trails those kisses up, placing a soft kiss on your clothed cunt, your eyes watching him closely. he then kisses up your stomach, his face now stopped in front of your face.

he swallows before placing his lips onto yours, everything was slow and you kiss him back. after a bit, you pull away, "okay um. I don't think this is going to work." you say about to sit up completely but he stops you. he gets back onto his knees, now yanking your panties down. you gasp slightly by the sudden action as he takes in the sight of you bare. he grips under your thighs as he pulls you closer to his face. your heart begins to race by his sudden anticipation and change of demeanor. his mouth was so close to your core, you can feel his breath against it. Matt gulps as he glances up at you, then looking back down at your folds. "heaven help me." he thinks to himself before diving his tongue into you. at first, you weren't feeling it, you sort of felt bad for his lack of experience but then, he begins to suck on your clit, making you sit up and look down at him. your mouth slowly falling open, surprised by his action. he continues to suck on your clit, you feel yourself getting wet as he works his mouth. your breath began to hitch as he ran his tongue up your now slick folds.

he flattens out his tongue, continuing his upward motion. you gasp softly, quickly biting your lip. you didn't expect to be enjoying this. he darts his tongue in and out of your entrance, making you moan out a bit louder than you expected. he looks up at you as he melts against your wet folds. he watches as you crumble above him. he swirls his tongue around your clit, making you throw your head back at the sensation, "M-Matt." you moan out. the sound of his name rolling of your tongue made him go insane. the way you moan, it was like an angelic sound in his ears. he moves his tongue against your clit, side to side as you gasp, gripping his hair with your eyes shut. he begins to suck on your slit again as he unexpectedly pushes a finger into you. "f-fuck!" you moan out as he pumps his finger, while still sucking on your clit. his eyes still on you, he knows he's doing this right.

you buck your hips up slightly, starting to feel your legs shake a bit, you have never experienced pleasure like this before. Matt pulls his finger out of you as he grips your thighs, holding them in place roughly. you let out a small whimper. the feeling of his tongue was sort of overpowering. he groans against your folds, sending vibrations through out your body. his hands grip your thighs harder as he dives his mouth in deeper. he was completely in the moment, the taste of your juices on his tongue, making him want more and more. he continues darting his tongue into you, wet noises filling the room. "you're so wet." he mumbles against you, lapping his tongue up your folds. you grip his hair a bit harder as you continue to moan. you couldn't believe the school's biggest nerd is in between your thighs, eating you out like his life depended on it.

he then flicks his tongue against your throbbing clit as he looks up at you. you gasp once again, eyes darting down at him, "how was he so good at this?" you thought to yourself. he then pushes two fingers this time into you, catching you off guard. he pumps his slender fingers in and out at a quick motion as he swirls his tongue sloppily. you arch your back as you grip the sheets above you, "fuck Matt!" you moan loudly, making him ache in between your legs. this only drives him to go faster, pumping his fingers into you even faster as he sucks on your clit. the combination combines make your stomach swirl, "Matt i'm gonna-." you let out shakily as you arch your back even more, your eyes clenched shut, your hands gripping the sheets for dear life as you experience the best orgasm you've ever had. you release all over his mouth as he keeps his mouth on you.

your legs shake as he continues to eat you out, despite you already releasing. he grips your thighs hard as he watches you shake uncontrollably under his touch. you swear you could now see stars as he groans against you once more. you push his head away as you look down at him in shock.

he licks his lips and his cheeks are flustered. you stare at him in disbelief as you try to catch up with your breathing. his eyes dart back down to your messy wet core as he looks back up at you, “h-how was that?” he asks shyly. “how could he act so shy after that?” you thought to yourself. he’s still on his knees as he waits for your response. it irritated you slightly at how much you enjoyed it, especially because you were so confident he would be terrible at it. when you finally calm down your breathing, you sit up and look down at him.

“what do you think?” you ask in disbelief. he feels his face heat up as he scratches the back of his neck, “uh…” he chuckles breathlessly, “good?” he questions. you push his glasses back up slowly as they were resting at the tip of his nose, “let’s just say, you are not what you seem.” you let out still in shock.

a/n: nerd matt has my heart.

tags! (comment if you want to be added)

@jnkvivi @fuckshitslover @nicksgirlfriend @mwahsturns @sturniolo-fann @etvar12 @hxnnah24 @strnlxlqve @sturncakez @sturnioloremarker @3lizaluvs @lanaswifeyy @dirtylittleheart333 @luzsturniolo @sturnpooks @sturnioq @c6ina @jetaimevous @mattsbrowser @sweetangelgirl7 @fratbrochrisgf @l0vergrlll @deadiish @dykes4chris @blahbel668 @sturnfannn @schlutt4matty @scarlett-or-wtv @suyqa @strtrckrz @sturniluvr @alexisxena @fratboychrisera @unhingedrobin @edgemaster696

[hoshifighting]

Can you also write about everyday things you might do that make svt go feral? 🫣👹

seungcheol gets horny whenever he sees you wearing his oversized shirts around the house. there's something about the way the fabric hangs off your shoulders, revealing glimpses of your bare skin that drives him wild, “you know that’s mine, right?” he teases, you saunter over, swaying your hips. “guess you’ll have to take it back,” you murmur, and his hands are on you in an instant.

jeonghan gets turned on by your sassiness. the way you bite back with quick, sharp retorts when he’s teasing you. it’s the fire in your eyes, the challenge you present. “you think you’re so clever, don’t you?” he’d say, leaning in, his breath hot on your ear. “maybe i am,” you retort, feeling the heat between you both. his hand snakes around your waist, pulling you closer. “let’s see how clever you are when i’m done with you,”

joshua finds himself getting hot and bothered when you wear glasses. it’s something about the way they frame your face, making you look both cute and sexy at the same time. “you look so studious,” he’d murmur, tracing a finger along the edge of your frames. you catch the gleam in his eyes, knowing exactly where his mind is going. the next thing you know, he's pulling you in for a kiss, hands sliding under your blouse.

jun can't help but get turned on whenever you stretch. the way your back arches and your shirt rides up, exposing a sliver of your stomach, is enough to drive him crazy. “you’re gonna be the death of me,” he’d groan, his eyes glued to your exposed skin. you laugh, teasing him about being so easy to rile up. but you love the way he looks at you, like he can't get enough, and it always leads to something more.

soonyoung gets excited whenever you work out. the sight of you in tight workout clothes, all sweaty and flushed, makes him weak. mainly when you're doing effort and sighs and moans end up leaving your mouth. “damn, you look good,” he’d say, you’d roll your eyes, but the way he looks at you makes your heart race. it’s not long before he’s pulling you into his arms, his hands roaming over your body, eager to feel every inch of you.

wonwoo finds himself getting horny whenever he catches you reading. there's something about the way you get lost in a book that makes him want you. “what are you reading?” he’d ask, leaning over your shoulder. but he’s not really interested in the book; he’s more interested in the way your lips move as you read, the way your eyes light up. the next thing you know, he’s pulling the book from your hands, replacing it with his own body, eager to devour you.

jihoon gets turned on whenever you sing. it doesn’t matter if it’s just you humming a tune or belting out a song, he finds it incredibly sexy. he's obsessed with your voice, your morning voice, when you're talking serious, when you call his name when you moan—“you’re really good at that, show me more...” you’d laugh, teasing him about getting worked up over something so simple. but he’d just pull you close, his lips finding yours, showing you exactly how much your voice affects him.

minghao gets turned on when you practice yoga. it’s the way your body bends and stretches, the grace in your movements. he sits nearby, his eyes glued to you. “enjoying the view?” you ask, a teasing smile on your lips. “more than you know,” he replies. you finish your routine and walk over to him, his eyes dark with need. “want to join me for the next session?” you suggest, and he pulls you into his lap, his lips finding yours in a hungry kiss.

mingyu gets horny when you cook. it’s the domesticity, the sight of you moving around the kitchen. he watches you, his eyes following your every move. “smells good,” he comments, leaning against the counter. “want a taste?” you ask, holding up a spoon. he takes a bite, his eyes never leaving yours. “delicious,” he murmurs, his hand slipping around your waist. “but i think i want a taste of you,” he adds, pulling you close.

seokmin gets excited whenever you laugh. it’s such a pure, joyful sound, and it never fails to make his heart race. “you’re adorable,” he’d say, his eyes shining with affection. but there’s a hint of something more, something darker, in his gaze. you can feel the tension building between you, and it’s not long before he’s pulling you into his arms, his lips finding yours, hands grabbing your ass.

seungkwan finds himself getting horny whenever you tease him. it’s the way you playfully poke fun at him, the way you challenge him, that gets under his skin in the best way. “oh, you think you’re funny?” he’d say, a wicked grin on his face. but you know he loves it, loves the way you push his buttons. the playful banter quickly turns into something more, something heated, as he pulls you close, his hands roaming over your body.

vernon can’t help but get excited whenever you touch him casually. it could be a simple brush of your fingers against his arm or a playful shove, but it’s enough to make his heart race. he’d groan, a playful smile on his face. but you know he loves it, loves the way you make him feel. the casual touches quickly escalate into something more, fingering you, or giving him a handjob. I feel like he have a hand fetish, maybe because your hands and manicured nails looks so good around his cock.

chan gets turned on whenever you bite your lip absentmindedly. it’s such a small, innocent gesture, but it never fails to catch his attention. “you know what that does to me, right?” he’d whisper, leaning in close. you’d play innocent, pretending not to know, but the way his eyes darken tells you he’s already imagining things. he loves the way you tease him without even trying, making it so easy for him to get lost in his thoughts about you.

[kingdomvel]

Steddie | 2.2k | first meetings | ao3

“What did you say the name of the band is again?” Steve asks. He has to raise his voice above the sound of the music playing before the concert and the hundreds of conversations around him.

“Corroded Coffin” Dustin says, probably for the hundredth time, or that’s what his tone suggests.

“It’s written on the drums.” Mike adds with his constant bitchy petulant tone.

Steve turns around and fair enough, the name is written there in the drums. They are also right there as they had queued for hours to be at the front (they are not in the centre but there’s no one standing in front of them), and apparently the band and place are small enough that there is no security line in front of the stage. Steve has been leaning against it with a drink in his hand while they wait for the concert to start. And that’s his excuse. He was leaning against the stage, so the drums were to his back, he couldn’t have read them.

“C’mon Steve, even I learned the name of the band in the eternity we have been here” Robin says which, rude, but she had agreed to come keep him company at a metal concert without asking for anything in return, so he will let it pass.

The kids (not quite kids anymore, but close enough) had needed an adult to get into the 18+ venue the concert was held at, and of course that adult had to be Steve because “we are not going to bring one of our parents into a metal concert Steve” and “Nancy and Jonathan are not even in the state and you said you were fun, didn’t you?” and he is fun, so he had to agree. And drag Robin with him, of course.

“Well I would remember the name if it wasn’t a stupid name” he says, a bit too loud if the looks he receives from some of the people around them are anything to go by.

“If you are so annoyed why don’t you go hang out at the bar and leave us alone?” Dustin asks.

“If I’m at a concert I’m getting the full experience, I’ve not queued for hours to stay at the bar. And I have to make sure you don’t get squished to death or accept drinks from strangers.”

“We are sixteen, you already drank when you were sixteen.”

“But I didn’t have a wristband telling everyone I was a minor.” He emphasizes this by hooking his forefinger on said wristband around Dustin’s wrist. The boy takes his hand away with a huff, but whatever he was going to say gets interrupted by a loud cheer as the lights of the venue dim. All eyes turn to the stage, and Steve forgets everything about the little shits around him.

They play the first two songs without interruption, back to back, and they are much better than Steve had expected them to be when the kids had pitched the idea of going to a concert of ‘a super cool band’ they had found on tiktok of all places. Steve is very quick to understand their raising popularity on social media the moment his eyes land on the frontman. He is not even wearing anything scandalous, just black jeans, some graphic tee and a leather jacket, but fuck if he isn’t attractive. His big eyes, teasing smile and wild hair are very much deserving of the screams they awake in the audience.

When the second song finishes, they don’t start a new one, the frontman takes the microphone from the stand.

“Are you ready for the best night of your life?” he shouts, and the audience answers with shouts of their own. Steve finds himself whooping, and answers with a smile and a shrug to Robin’s amused silent question as both of them clap. “We are Corroded Coffin,” more yelling, and the frontman stars walking around with a smile on his lips while he looks at the ground, clearly enjoying the attention. “And these aaaaaare…” he prolongs the last word, building a dramatic effect. “Gareth!” he shouts, pointing to the back dramatically. There are yells, the boy at the drums doing a short solo before he stands up to wave at the audience. “Jeff!” more yells, a guitar solo. “Our favourite Freak!” laughs from band and audience alike, more yells, and the boy with the bass trying to hit the frontman with said bass. “And I’m Eddie.”

‘Eddie’ Steve mouths the name.

There are yells as the frontman finishes, a small bashful smile on his lips back on his face after the laughing as he plays with the microphone stand with the hand that is not currently holding the microphone. He looks up at the audience when the yells don’t stop, gives a small dramatic bow and smirks when the yells grow louder once again.

“EDDIE MARRY ME” a voice yells from somewhere in the audience.

“Oh? Without going on a date first?” Eddie asks, he has his gaze set somewhere on the audience, and Steve is a bit impressed at how easily he has spot the person in the sea of bodies.

“I’M FREE WHENEVER.” The same voice yells again, it makes Eddie laugh.

“I’m honoured, my fair lady, but I’ll have to decline. I’m looking for my knight in shining armour myself.” There are ooohs from the audience but Steve’s gut makes a traitorous interested twist. “And speaking of knights,” he says, putting his hands back on his guitar, “I think you may know this one.” One note, and the audience is going crazy. Dustin is jumping up and down while he holds onto Steve’s arm, and Steve can’t help but laugh at him.

It's when that third song is finishing that it happens. The guitarist is starting a solo, and Eddie looks down to the base of the microphone stand, pulls a confused face, and then looks around. He must not see whatever he was looking for because he has a confused furrow in his brow when he does a second sweep around the stage and beyond, and he catches Steve's eyes. He maintains the eye contact for a second, two, five, and then looks down to Steve’s hands and back up again. There is a smirk in his face Steve is not entirely sure he likes the implications of as he walks towards him while he keeps playing.

Steve can hear Dustin screaming “oh my god, oh my god, oh my god” right next to his ear as Eddie comes closer until he is standing right in front of them.

The musician is still looking at Steve as he leans forward and asks “give me a sip?” as he looks down at Steve’s hands for a second. (Or at least that’s what Steve guesses he says, the noise too loud for him to really hear him without his mic.)

Steve lifts his drink, and the frontman leans forward and down with a smile. He opens his mouth and Steve pours his drink in it. When he finishes, he winks at Steve before he walks away in time to start singing again. The kids around him are screaming, Robin is surely going to make him partially deaf and is shaking him so hard he almost drops the rest of his drink. It takes until the next song starts for the bunch to calm down a bit and focus on the show again.

The thing is, that is not the last time it happens. Eddie comes back to steal sips from his drink every few verses, and when Steve’s drink is finished and he goes to get a beer, he is miraculously let back to the front by the audience. Eddie, of course, also wants to have his share of the beer. So they share it.

It is, if Steve is honest, the weirdest experience he has ever had in a concert. But he is having too much fun and would not change it for anything. A hot singer and guitarist coming to him every few minutes and bending down so Steve can pour drink into his mouth? The best thing that has happened to him all month. It only gets better when Eddie ditches his leather jacket – Steve was starting to wonder when that was going to happen because it’s much too hot in the venue for it and he is sure that a big reason Eddie needs to drink so much is because he is sweating it all and dehydrating – and reveals that the tee he was wearing underneath has the sleeves cut off very freely. Steve can see most of the man’s torso and that is a SIGHT. There are tattoos on his arms and ribcage that Steve immediately wants to see complete, and his waist is slim where the shirt is tucked into the jeans. It makes Steve bite his lip in want.

He is about to pour the last of their third beer in Eddie’s mouth when a small hand stops him. He looks to the side with confusion, sure that none of the kids or Robin would stop him at this point and is met with the smile of a small blonde girl.

“Give him this please” she says, handing him a bottle of an electrolyte drink. Steve looks back at Eddie just in time to see him groaning. “No more beer.” She adds, pointing to Eddie as if he was a misbehaving dog, he is surely giving the look, with his big brown eyes and sad look. She turns back to Steve, “and sorry about that, any new drinks you get are on us.”

She is gone with that. Steve looks at Eddie, at the new drink in his hand. Eddie shrugs, defeated, and leans forward. Steve quickly empties the rest of the beer in his mouth before he opens the new bottle and starts pouring from it. Eddie doesn’t drink much, too busy trying not to choke on the beer and his laughter.

Eddie ditches his guitar towards the end of the concert for a ‘calmer’ song. He walks around the stage as he sings to a boy involved in him that tries to deny the depth of their relationship and tries to date girls, and how in the future he is going to regret not staying with him. He has great stage presence, he has been flirting with the audience between songs, dramatic and charismatic, a bit over the top. Maybe the fastest crush Steve has ever developed, happy to enjoy his part in the show, even when he knows it’s not going to lead anywhere.

Steve feels his heart accelerating as Eddie walks towards him, which is ridiculous, they have been doing this all night. But this time Eddie shakes his head when Steve gets the drink ready, and he can only look as he kneels on the edge of he stage right in front of him as he sings the bridge. They are holding eye contact now, and it’s the closest they have been. Eddie’s eyes are captivating, Steve can only stop looking at them to glance down at his lips. It seems he was caught, because the next second Eddie is speaking.

“Are we about to kiss right now?” he asks, and Steve looks back up to his eyes. He lifts his eyebrows, trying to convey ‘bring it on’ as best as he can as he licks his lips, Eddie’s eyes glancing at them. It must work, because the next second Eddie is leaning forward, and now Steve’s hand is on his nape, and their lips are pressing against each other.

It’s probably the filthiest kiss Steve has participated on. At least with an audience. It’s not long, Eddie has to keep singing after all, but they make up for it in tongue action. The audience goes crazy around them, but Steve doesn’t pay attention to them at all, only focused on Eddie. He at least must be paying some attention to their surroundings because he pulls off in time to keep singing and stands up to move around the stage.

There are a couple of songs more, and then Eddie is introducing the band again before he starts listing all the members of the staff that have made the concert possible.

“We also wouldn’t have made it here without our precious manager Chrissy,” he adds, “even when she worries too much sometimes. Three beers are not enough to get me drunk, especially not shared ones. And that reminds me! I can’t forget to thank my knight in shining armour, my perfect drink partner…” he trails off.

“STEVE!” Robin shouts next to him.

“Steve” Eddie repeats with a smile. “Thank you for the drinks. Don’t go running off now too fast now, alright? Stay for a bit after the concert, I owe you a couple of beers.” He finishes with a wink.

The kids and Robin are screaming again, and Steve is sure he is going to have bruises tomorrow from their grabbing, but he doesn’t stray his gaze from Eddie. At least not until the last song finishes, the lights from the stage turn off, and the rest of the lights of the venue turn on. Then, and only then, Steve turns towards the others.

“How did you say you were going to get back home again?”

Part two

Now with art

[rinskazuu]

don't want to let you go, baby ⋅˚₊‧ 𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅

synopsis. ꨄ︎ texting the jjk men "i can't do this anymore," and they take it as you breaking up with them but you aren't (not the misunderstanding trope) PART 1

characters. ꨄ︎ fem!reader x gojo, toji, choso, itadori, yuta (separate)

cw. ꨄ︎ established relationship, small (and quick) misunderstanding, fluff, crack (cus when am i not funny), suggestive in toji's (are we surprised), extreme comfort (especially in yuta's), possessive toji, talk of violence, !!purely joking about khs (yuji, he IS NOT BEING SERIOUS, i forgot to add in the tone indicator)!!, reader having self doubt

notes. ꨄ︎ i'm still reading the jjk manga (currently in the middle of culling game arc) so i'm not the most familiar with yuta's character. if any of u feel that i mischaracterized him, pls pls pls lmk!! also, i made this too long so i had to split it in 2 parts

♪ song used. ꨄ︎ one more last time by henry young

part 2 geto, nanami, sukuna, megumi, and inumaki

end notes. ꨄ︎ very sorry to the nctzens who might see this through yuta x reader

reblogs, comments, and likes are all appreciated! <3

jjk masterlist | general masterlist

[mrsfancyferrari]

Need Saving

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

Song: Me and Your Mama by Childish Gambino

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

Word count: 10.8k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

★・・・・・・★ ★・・・・・・★ ★・・・・・・★

★・・・・・・★ ★・・・・・・★ ★・・・・・・★

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Panic surged through him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[alvojake]

idol jungwon wherein he's recording a song with explicit meaning, and her non-showbiz gf decided to spice the song up by including actual sounds of sex

「notes」 : I may or may not have gone a little crazy with this, hehe... but pervy, rough jungwon will forever be my favorite agenda 🙈

Countermelody | Y.JW

「paring」 : idol!bf!jungwon x non-idol!fem!reader 「word count」 : 2.4k

「synopsis」 : your boyfriend has been holed up in the studio for almost two weeks trying to meet his deadline, but no matter what he did he just couldn't find the missing piece. however, when you finally convince him to let you listen to it you realize that not only was it a song about the two of you but also a very sensual and sexy song. partially joking you suggested that you could add the sounds of sex to make it more realistic, but boy did your boyfriend take an instant liking to that idea.

「genre」 : smut

「warning」 : make-out sessions, unprotected sex (NO!), cursing, petnames (baby, bunny...), teasing, clit play, marking/biting, won is a bit pervy, dom!jungwon x sub!reader, public(ish) sex, rough sex, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, squirting, slight bulge kink, praise, slight manhandling, lmk if I missed anything!!

You had planned to bring your sweet, hard-working boyfriend some homemade lunch seeing as he’s been holed up in that production room for days. The lack of sleep is very evident in his features. Jungwon had been busting his ass trying to meet the deadline for his new single, but no matter what he did he felt like something was missing. A key factor that would tie the whole thing together but for the life of him he couldn’t figure out what it was. You were willing to help, but he refused to let you listen to the song, saying it was a ‘surprise’ and that he wanted to wait until it was finished for you to hear it. But you were going to make him let you help because you couldn’t bear to see him in this state for much longer. Not just for his sake but for your own as well. You see, during this whole time Jungwon was so absorbed in trying to produce this song that he had completely forgotten about you. 

Sure you would see him for that short amount of time that he was in your shared apartment and he did nothing but love you. You love it, god you loved it, but you wanted more than just his innocent kisses and touches. You needed, no craved him so badly and you weren’t sure how much more you could take before you finally burst.

So here you stood behind your boyfriend, your thumbs pressing firmly down on his shoulders trying to undo the knots that had formed due to him working so much. Jungwon just leaned into your touch savoring the feeling of your warm skin against his. He had missed you so much that it was starting to physically hurt, but he needed to get this song finished. The deadline was fast approaching and he was starting to grow more and more anxious the closer it got, worried that he would fail. His eyes stared at the desktop screen in front of him, racking his brain for what that missing piece could be. So lost in his head that he completely missed his name falling from your lips.

“Jungwon.” You spoke a bit louder, snapping him right out of whatever trance he was stuck in. He tilted his head back looking up at you sheepishly, a small awkward smile tugging on his lips as he apologized. “Why don’t you let me help you?” You pouted softly and he just closed his eyes with a sigh.

He really did want it to be a surprise because he made this song with you in mind, but he knew that you would continue to bother him until he let you help. He knew you meant well, but he just hated the idea of it being ruined. 

“It’s supposed to be a surprise baby,” He whined before sitting up in the roller chair, pulling himself out of your grip.

“Won, I’m almost one hundred percent sure I’ll love it finished or not,” You reassured him and you walked around the chair, “and,” You easily climbed into his lap, straddling his legs and his hands instantly went to your hips, “maybe I can help find what it is that missing, ya?”

Jungwon looked at you with such a soft gaze that you were sure that you would turn into putty in his lap. However, the smirk that tugged on his lips as his eyes became dark made heat pool in your gut. He nodded his head with a quick ‘okay’ and before you could even question it he wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling your body flush against his and rolling forward so he could reach for the mouse. You looked over your shoulder, watching as he went to the audio file before unplugging the headphones he had been wearing. When he hit play a smooth sensual tune pooled out of the speakers and as soon as his voice came through you could feel your body grow warmer.

The words and beat seemed innocent on the outside, but as you really listened to his words you knew what the true meaning was. The song is about begging a woman who was referred to as ‘Bunny’ to let him love her right. How he would treat her right and fuck her in all the right ways. That she should just forget about her lousy ex and choose him. That’s when it dawned on you that he was talking about you. Everything fits you, the nickname that only Jungwon ever gave you. The lyrics match all of the details about your relationship to a tee. 

Finally taking your eyes off of the screen you looked over meeting your boyfriend’s hooded eyes. You bit your lip as you wrapped your arms around his neck, playing with the hairs on the nape of his neck. The man in front of you wasn’t the sweet, innocent man that everyone believed him to be, no the man in front of you was a downright dirty pervert. He would take any chance he could get to have you whenever, wherever, no matter the situation. The need to have his dick buried so deep inside of your warm cunt overshadowed any other thoughts.

Which is why this song didn’t surprise you a single bit. It was no wonder that he wanted it to be a surprise, he’d probably show it to you while he was dicking you down in the bedroom.

That’s when a lightbulb went off in your brain, finding the perfect solution for what it was that was missing. You leaned more against Jungwon’s body, the space between you now nonexistent. Jungwon’s grip on your waist loosened until his hands trailed down to grip your ass through the very short shorts you were wearing.

“Whatcha think?” His voice was low but you still heard him loud and clear over the music that was blaring through the speakers. His hands knead the flesh of your ass almost like a cat. Whether it was the feeling of his skin on yours or the fact that you haven’t had sex in a while but you were already dripping in your panties. You hummed before leaning close enough to ghost your lips over his.

“I love it. It’s so… us.” You teased him and Jungwon just smirked, “But I think I know what it’s missing.”

He hummed against your lips, “And what’s that bunny?” 

You rolled your hips against his easily feeling the growing bulge in his pants, “what don’t we add the real deal, make it more realistic…” 

It didn’t take a genius to figure out what you meant, but boy did it turn Jungwon on to unimaginable levels. In seconds his lips were on yours, kissing you with such fever it almost took the air right out of your lungs. You ran your fingers through his hair, tugging softly eliciting a groan from his throat.

“Fuck baby you’re so hot.” He groaned against your lips before pulling away, chuckling when you chased after his lips. You didn’t spare a second before latching your lips to his neck, sucking and biting on the skin. Jungwon was sure that you’d leave marks, he didn’t mind though it was always a pain in the ass to explain to the make-up artist. “Are you sure about this bunny?” He didn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable, nor did he want to force you if you had just been joking. But as you ground your hips against him with an impatient whimper he knew you were too far gone to really say no. So he clicked a few buttons on the screen, his lips between his teeth trying to focus while your lips worked on marking his pretty skin.

As soon as he had the recorder going he grabbed the back of your thighs, hoisting you up until he was on his feet. A gasp fell from your lips and your grip tightened on his neck. He was quick to muffle it with his own lips, kissing you like it was his last day on earth. 

“Wonnie…” You whined out as his lips trailed from your lip to your jaw before finding purchase on your neck. He left open-mouth kisses along your skin before sucking a dark purple mark right along your jugular. 

He sat you down on the desk right next to the microphone, wanting to catch all of the little noises you made. He pulled away from you just long enough to tear his shirt off of his body before practically ripping yours off. 

“I need that Won-” Jungwon quickly silenced you with another heated kiss promising you his hoodie after, which you were going to keep him accountable to. His hands then wandered from your hips to the band of your shorts.

Jungwon’s mind kept wandering back to the fact that he was recording this and it made him so fucking hard thinking about how every time he was going to listen to this song he’d only hear the pretty sounds of your moans in the background. 

He slipped his hand past your waistband and underwear wasting no time in cupping your heat, your slick already pooling in his palm. You were so fucking wet that he was sure that he could slide right in with little resistance.

“Fuck you’re so wet baby, you’re literally dripping on my hand.” You mewled at his dirty words, your brain turning to mush as he finds your clit easily. Your head falls back with a loud moan, not caring if bypassers can hear.

Jungwon watched in amusement as you so quickly were coming undone thanks to just his simple touches. A smirk crept onto his lips when you whined out as he removed his hand from your pussy. However, he grabbed your hips pulling you closer to the edge of the desk before telling you to lay back. If you weren’t so desperate to feel him so deep in you that you see stars then you would be embarrassed with how quick you heeded his words. Goosebumps littered your skin as it made contact with the cool surface. Jungwon made quick work of your shorts and panties, throwing them off to the side somewhere.

His cock twitched in his pants when he caught sight of your drenched hole, mouth watering as the lights gleamed off of your slick. But he wouldn’t last another minute without being inside you.

He pulled the strings of his sweats loose before shoving them down his leg along with his boxers, his cock springing free, the tip red and angry just waiting to be buried in your pussy. You whined out his name when he took the tip and started to tease your clit, “Such a filthy girl, letting me record your pretty whimpers.” He chuckled as he watched your brows furrow as you impatiently waited for him to fuck you. “Imagine how amazing you'd sound when I'm fucking you senseless.” You didn’t get a chance to utter a word before he pushed into you, bottoming out in one go.

You cried out at the sudden intrusion, nails digging into the skin of Jungwon’s forearm. Stars started to cloud your vision when he started to trust into you.

“Fuck I missed this pussy so much bunny.” He groaned against your ear as he bent down, pressing his body against yours. It’s far too long since he was able to last fuck you senseless and god he wasn’t going to do it again.

“Wonnie, it feels- fuck, it feels so good.” You moaned right next to his ear causing him to chuckle, but the sound quickly got caught in his throat when you clenched around him.

“You're so tight 'nd warm around me. Could die being in this pussy.” He groans as his pace turns animalistic, the sweet moans and whimpers leaving your lips only prompting him to go harder. 

“Won- fuck Wonnie, ‘m close,” You choked when the tip of his cock hit your sweet spot before kissing your cervix, the combo nearly making you black out, silent moans falling from your swollen lips.

“Look how pretty you are, taking all of me.” Jungwon cooed as he moved one of his hands to press down on your lower stomach feeling himself move in and out of you. Your back arched against him at the sensation, the knot in your stomach tightening to unimaginable levels. He knew you were close with how hard you were squeezing him, so he moved his hand away from your stomach. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as his thumb circled sharp circles on your little bundle of nerves.

“Jungwon!” You quite literally screamed as you felt your climax wash over you causing your body to jerk violently, but your boyfriend didn’t slow his movements. No, in fact, he sped up even more chasing his own him, throwing your body into overstimulation.

Tears pricked at the corner of your eyes as your first orgasm slowed allowing you to feel the sensitivity of your boyfriend's dick hitting all the right places. The only thing leaving your lips were babbles and Jungwon’s name as he continued to pound into you. God it was the hottest thing he had ever seen and he was sure he’d bust right then and there.

Jungwon could tell that another orgasm was on the tip of your tongue with how your body convulsed under him and how your pussy clenched around him so hard. His thumb found your clit once more causing a loud cry to fall from your lips as you tried to get away from your boyfriend’s hands, but his grip was far too strong.

You couldn’t even give him a warning when you squirted all over his cock, your release coating both of your thighs. Jungwon groaned at the sight as he tipped over the edge spilling deep into your warm cunt. His movements slowed allowing the both of you to ride out your highs until he came to a complete stop.

He placed soft, gentle kisses along your collarbone and chest as you regained your breathing and mind. “You fucking squirted bunny.” Jungwon groaned but you were quick to cover your face in embarrassment, “Don’t be embarrassed baby, it was so fucking hot.” He pulled your hands away from your pace before kissing you deeply, you moaned against his lips as you felt his dick twitch inside of you, “God I need you to do it again.” He bit your bottom lip as he felt his cock grow hard once more. It was safe to say that he had plenty of audio to work with after you were done.

@alvojake | Do not steal, plagiarise, translate, or repost any of my work

𝖉𝖎𝖘𝖈𝖑𝖆𝖎𝖒𝖊𝖗 : ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ɴᴏ ᴡᴀʏ ᴀ ᴛʀᴜᴇ ʀᴇᴘʀᴇꜱᴇɴᴛᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ᴏꜰ ᴀɴʏ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀꜱ. ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ᴘᴜʀᴇʟʏ ꜰɪᴄᴛɪᴏɴ ᴀɴᴅ ꜰᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏᴍᴇɴᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ ɴᴏᴛ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ᴛᴀᴋᴇɴ ꜱᴇʀɪᴏᴜꜱʟʏ.

𝖙𝖆𝖌𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙: @heesitation @riftanswhore @luvyong2z

[static-radio-ao3]

jegulus microfic // words: 1.5k // cw: drinking, implied sexual content

sometimes you just have to make out with a hot guy at a party and if that hot guy happens to be your best friend's brother, well...

James watches with laser focus as Regulus’ tongue slips from between his lips. He has a half-done cigarette in his fine-boned fingers and licks a long stripe along the length of the rolling paper.

Regulus rolls it up with practiced ease, making James' eye twitch, and he passes the cigarette off to Barty.

“Thanks, baby boy,” Barty says as he pushes himself off the too-low couch across the room and wanders to the open window so he can lean outside to smoke.

He flicks open his mildly offensive lighter and James nearly wishes Barty would take a little tumble, but his horniness hasn’t quite shifted into homicidal tendencies so he takes a steadying breath and tells himself to fucking relax.

His eyes shift back to Regulus, who is rolling a new cigarette, presumably for Evan. James wishes he could zoom in, just to get a closer look at how nimbly Regulus spreads the tobacco in the rolling paper.

“You know, you could at least pretend to listen to me,” Sirius complains with a shove to James’ shoulder. His beer nearly sloshes out of the bottle with the sudden movement.

“Sorry. I was,” James says. “Listening, I mean. Not pretending to. I got… distracted.”

“What on earth could be more important than me right now?” Sirius questions, shifting in his seat and pressing his cheek against James’ so he can follow his line of sight. His skin is soft and warm and the familiar scent of amberwood fills James’ nostrils.

It doesn’t take long for Sirius to realize what James was zeroed in on. “No,” he gasps, falling back into his seat with a betrayed gasp.

“I’m just—” James starts, but Sirius’ withering look silences him with ease.

“Just what?”

“Just looking!”

“Look elsewhere! Literally anyone else, I beg of you.”

“Remus,” James says immediately, eyebrow raised in a challenge.

Sirius’ face falls minutely. “Okay, except for Remus.” His eyes shift off to the side, as if picturing something, and then he adds, “Although…”

“No,” James is quick to interrupt. He shoves Sirius’ face away for good measure, fingers damp with condensation from his glass beer bottle. “Nip that thought right in the bud.”

“Whose butt are we nipping?” Remus asks, because of course he chooses this very moment to reappear. He stands in front of them, hands on his hips and eyebrow cocked.

Sirius turns to face Remus, not unlike a flower to the sun or a moth to a flame.

“James is ogling my brother.” His tone is accusatory and petty, but his eyes are molten ice when he looks at Remus.

Remus leans in to press a quick kiss against Sirius’ waiting mouth and James also purses his lips in a mocking invitation, but Remus settles for flicking his forehead instead.

He surveys the seating arrangement and after a moment, he settles on the armrest of the couch. It’d be a tight fit with the three of them on there and the party is keeling on the wrong side of too hot. A smoky haze fills the room and the thumping bass makes the floor hum with every song.

“Ogling is a strong word,” James argues. “I think admiring is more accurate.”

“From a distance. A long, long distance. In fact,” Sirius says as he turns to face James again, “how about we move to another room?”

“Actually,” Remus says, “that’s precisely why I came here… Do you wanna…?” He lets the sentence trail off suggestively, fingers slipping into the ripped fabric of Sirius’ jeans. James watches as a barely-there shiver skitters its way up Sirius’ spine and his eyes flutter shut at the slight touch.

Sirius wastes no time shoving his full beer bottle into James’ hands while Remus gets up. Over Sirius’ shoulder, James mouths a silent thank you at Remus, who simply winks at him in return.

Sirius wiggles his fingers at Remus in a silent request to be pulled off the couch, but before they leave James to his thoughts, Sirius whirls on him again. “No funny business with my brother, okay?”

“None at all,” James swears as solemnly as he can. Hands full with Sirius’ discarded drink and his own, he settles for mentally crossing his fingers.

“All by your lonesome, Potter?” Regulus asks, dropping onto the couch with a quiet oof. James glances up just in time to see his best friends disappear around a corner.

His gaze settles on Regulus, on the dark shade of his shirt and how it brings out his eyes. And his collarbones.

James hums, not quite trusting his voice. He takes a sip of his beer for liquid courage and if it turns into more of a swig, well, who’s to say?

“Knocking ‘em back pretty fast, huh?”

“This one’s Sirius’. He disappeared with Remus to go do unspeakable things to each other’s bodies.”

“Might need to steal that from you just to get that image out of my head,” Regulus says, those nimble fingers James was eyeing earlier appearing in front of him and deftly plucking the bottle from James’ hand. “Thank you very much.”

“I do hate to suffer alone,” James says, tipping his own beer toward Regulus in a cheer.

“Can’t have that, can we?” And Regulus taps their bottles together.

The clink of the glass is drowned out by the loud music —something about releasing one’s inhibitions?— but James feels it down to his bones.

“Enjoying the party?” James asks, wincing as soon as the words leave his mouth. He brings the bottle to his lips again just to keep more stupid words from tumbling out, letting them fall into the drink instead.

“Come on, Potter, your game has to be better than that,” Regulus says, head lolling on the back of the couch lazily. His hair tousles with the movement, careless waves of inky black spilling across his forehead.

“What do you mean?” James asks, hands tightening around his drink to keep from doing something insane like reaching out and fixing Regulus’ hair.

“Everyone knows you never leave a party alone. No way people fall for that line.”

“It’s not a line.”

“No?” Regulus asks, sitting up straight again. “You genuinely want to know if I’m enjoying the party?”

James hums. Lifts his shoulders in a shrug. A wordless What can I say?

“Well, that’s disappointing.”

Regulus’ mouth, usually down-turned, tugs down even more. It would look like a pout if it weren’t for the fact that the corners of his mouth twitched in amusement.

“You wanted me to use a line on you?” James asks.

This time, Regulus hums. Lifts his shoulders in a shrug. A wordless What can I say?

“This might surprise you, but I don’t need to use lines on people to get them to come home with me. Some people are into me, if you’ll believe it.”

Regulus’ face says that he does believe it. His mouth says, “Maybe you can give me some pointers on mine, then.”

James scoffs, turned on beyond belief and trying valiantly to drown it out. “Happy to.”

“Good.”

“Good.”

“Great.”

They’d inched together unknowingly until the space between them had shrunk to near-nonexistence. The world starts and ends in the breath between their faces, Regulus’ lips a focal point.

Instead of replying again, James catches Regulus’ mouth in a kiss, hot and heavy from the beginning. He blindly sets his drink aside and hopes that it doesn’t get knocked over. Then again, he has other things on his mind than potentially staining the carpet.

With both hands free, he is able to shift on the couch. One hand comes up to cradle the back of Regulus’ head while the other moves to his hip as if magnetic. He can’t help the thrill of excitement when he realizes his hand fits just right.

He faintly hears someone whoop but then Regulus’ hands shift from James’ back to the sides of his face. He gently knocks his glasses askew in the process, but that’s fine. James doesn’t need to be able to see to do this.

There is nothing else in the world but this. Them.

Eventually, Regulus’ hands end up in his hair, and he pulls James back with a mean fist.

“What?” James asks, punched out and breathless.

Regulus doesn’t say anything, just pushes James back against the couch and moves to straddle him. It takes James no time to get with the program, hands changing course to settle on Regulus’ thighs.

James isn’t sure how much time passes. All he’s sure of is the comforting weight of Regulus on his lap, the feel of Regulus’ tongue in his mouth, and the warmth of Regulus’ hands on his face.

The earth could explode and James is fairly sure he wouldn’t realize, too caught up in the heady path Regulus is tracking down the side of his neck.

A needy sound spills from his mouth, hands clenching on Regulus’ things, and Regulus is quick to meet him in another kiss.

“James!” Sirius’ voice filters into his ears from somewhere behind him a lifetime later and the sound of the party rushes back in pieces.

Music.

Chatter.

The crash of a vase toppling over.

“I told you, no funny business!” Sirius whines, reaching out to smack the back of James’ head, and James can’t help the way he bites into Regulus’ lip on impact.

With a disgruntled groan, Regulus pulls back. “We’re not laughing,” he says, lips pink and breath stolen.

Sirius’ reply is indignant, surely, but James can’t hear anything except for the sound of his heart thundering in his ears when Regulus leans in again to kiss him.

He’ll apologize in the morning.

Or not.

[pbueckerslover]

‘CAUSE I THINK YOU’RE LOVELY - PAIGE BUECKERS

a/n: this is my favvv brent song it’s sooo good i suggest listening while reading :)

pairing(s): paige bueckers x female!reader

warnings: clubbing, language, smut, fingering (r!receiving), strap on use, ex!gf paige, sorta rough paige

summary: you and paige are exes and see each other at a club two months after your break up. what happens when you both confess how much you’ve missed each other?

i almost fell in love with you

after the club last night

from afar paige could see her. her ex girlfriend. you two broke up only a couple months ago but you’ve been on her mind every day since then. you were the girl of her dreams but things just weren’t working out for you two and you decided you were better off as friends.

how could she let that happen? how could she let the most perfect girl she’s ever met just slip through her fingers like that? to say she regretted her actions was an understatement.

she watched you from across the room, head pounding from the loud voices and even louder music. her eyes were on you for every move you made. they followed every inch of your body taking in every part of you.

it don’t know what you do

moneys gonna treat you right

caught in her daze, she didn’t realize how much closer you had gotten until you were practically inches away from her face.

“paige! oh my god.” you said snapping her back to reality. her eyes finally met yours and she felt like the world was spinning. “hey y/n.. it’s been so long.” she replied watching as you started moving closer.

“too long.” you replied looking up at her with a slight smile. “how have you been? what’s up?” you ask.

paige stays silent for a second before finally replying, “are we really gonna do this? act like everything is fine between us?” she looked sad but angry at the same time.

her words caught you off guard, not the type of reaction you were expecting. “what are you talking about?” you ask, locking your eyes back on hers.

paige scoffs, trying to hide the fact that she still cares about you. you don’t know that you’ve been on her mind everyday even though you’ve been broken up. that all she ever wants to do is just call you up and fuck you till she feels better.

“you know exactly what i mean y/n.” she says looking down at you. “i can’t just pretend like nothing happened between us.”

“hey! i’m not asking you to do that. i came over here to talk to you, because i’ve missed you paige. i really have.” you blurt out and you swore you could see her eyes move down to your lips for a quick second.

“i also want you to know that i’ve changed. i really have, i’m not the same as i used to be and i’m not scared anymore.” you add before paige could get a word in.

girl don’t act like you’ve changed

when we both know you can’t

those words were exactly what she wanted to hear but she just couldn’t let herself give in so easily. if you really missed her so much why did you never think to text? or call? paige would’ve died to know this information sooner.

“don’t… don’t say that. we both know it’s not true.” she replied looking down at you, this time with more fire in her eyes.

you felt hurt a little at her comment, but deep down you knew it was true. you have missed paige ever since you broke up but you’ve been too scared to do anything. scared of her rejection.

“look i’m sorry. i truly am. for everything. can we just hang out and see where the night goes?” you ask with a small smile on your face.

she was quiet for a second but then she nodded. she grabbed your hand and pulled you onto the dance floor. her hands rested on your waist as you moved yours to her neck.

god you had missed this. the feeling of her hands on your body. knowing that her eyes are on you no matter where you’re looking. you had missed everything about her.

and i know you love me

‘cause i think you’re lovely

so of course it wasn’t a surprise when you two ended up taking an uber back to her place later that night. you were now laying on her bed as she continued pumping her large fingers inside of you.

your moans filled the room as you watched paige’s every move. the way her toned arms moved as she fucked you harder. you couldn’t believe this was actually happening right now. the girl you loved was finally doing all the things you had been dreaming about for the past two months.

“oh paige.... missed this so bad.” you breathed out as paige was hitting all the right spots.

“yeah baby? you missed me fucking you like the little slut you are?” she said causing you to let out another string of loud moans. the sound was like music to her ears. “gonna give it to you just how you want it.”

girl check my coat

drop that ass on the floor

she stopped her movements before looking at you once again. “turn around.” she said blankly. you did as she said turning around so your back was now facing her.

she ran to her closet to grab a box. she opened it to reveal the strap she had used on you multiple times before. she smirked as she noticed you watching her.

once she had it on she was pulling you over to her. without a warning she was pushing up into you as your ass slapped down against her thighs.

“oh my god! fuck p! feels so good.” you yelled out as her pace started to become quicker. she placed a smack to your ass before grabbing it hard. she gripped onto your hips pushing you down further on her cock. you knew there was going to be marks left from that.

see you move on that pole

baby look at you go

“doing so good for me baby.” she let out moving her hands to cup your tits. she ran her fingers across your nipples as she started to leave kisses on the back of your neck.

your moans became louder as she continued pleasuring you. you knew you were close and you knew she could feel it too.

“paige.. ‘m gonna cum!” you said as another moan slipped from your mouth.

“want you to cum all over my cock.” she replied making you look back at her before she pushed herself into you once more.

you released all over her cock, just like she had suggested. you tried to catch your breath as you came down from your high.

she cleaned the two of you up before laying back down in the bed next you. she let out a small sigh before saying, “that was… fuck i don’t even know what to say. i’ve definitely missed that.”

you chuckled at her words, feeling yourself blush at the fact that she could barely form a sentence. “me too paige. i’ve missed you a lot.” you replied as you laid your head down on her chest.

she placed a soft kiss to your forehead and wrapped her arms around your waist. her hands stroked your hair while you both drifted off to sleep.

⇾ be sure to checkout my masterlist if you enjoyed! any type of interaction is appreciated :,)

⇾ thank u sm for reading!! i hope you guys enjoyed.. look out for more fics this week <3

[chaoticallyfluffy]

I want more of the JL acting like normal celebrities.

Batman and Chappel Roan working together on a competitive cooking show against teams of Kylie Jenner and Danny Devito, Kanye West and Kesha, Taylor Swift and Superman, etc. They are a surprisingly good team who work together great. They end up winning the whole thing and a bunch of wholesome memes start trending about the two of them adopting you after your awful parents kicked you out. Superman and Taylor Swift are surprisingly a TERRIBLE team. They’re disqualified because they never finished cooking their meals as they were too busy arguing. They are memed to be the parents who kicked you out and desperately need a divorce.

Wonder Woman going on a survivor-like reality show about a bunch of celebrities stuck on an island together and all the contestants are whining about things like “My hair is so frizzy and Chad is SO hot, I don’t want him to see me like this omg” While Diana has already chopped down multiple trees, used the wood to make a cabin for everyone, hunted a wild boar which is currently roasting over a campfire she also made with the leftover sticks and leaves, and cracked the coconuts from the tree. The rest of the show is mostly a normal reality show. The other contestants never have to lift a finger and can peacefully gossip and have drama while being well fed, housed, and hydrated. The only real difference is that every few minute the camera switches to Diana wresting a grizzly bear or catching fish with her bare hands.

The masked singer where there’s a person in a colourful parrot costume singing on stage and everyone has to guess who it is. People have guessed many celebrities like Oliver Queen, Bruce Wayne, or even Lex Luther, but they mostly guessed famous singers because the guy is GOOD and there’s no way he doesn’t sing professionally. He sang songs like “Party in the USA”, “Call Me Maybe” and “Never Gonna Give You Up”. People were going crazy trying to figure out who he is. The time finally comes for the reveal. The man slowly takes off his parrot head and... it’s Batman. The crowd goes wild.

The Flash (Barry) and Green Lantern (Hal) make a podcast and spend the entire time going on long rants about their respective interests. Flash talks about forensic science and chemistry for an hour while GL hums in interest or asks questions every once in a while. After that GL rambles about airplanes and engineering for another hour while Flash enthusiastically nods and adds in related stories every so often. Twitter diagnoses them with autism.

Captain Marvel has a TikTok account where he posts himself trying suggestions from his fans. Some of his most popular videos include him juggling a bunch of chainsaws (perfectly, btw), pranking JL members, bedazzling Mr Minds prison jar with fake crystals and speech bubble stickers that make it look like Mr Mind is saying things like “I’m DUMB”, and his most popular by far, citing The Santa Clause rules to Black Adam and convincing him that since he killed his father technically that makes him his new dad (the horror stopped Black Adam in place mid battle, giving Marvel the perfect opportunity to punch him in the face. The punch has been slo-mo’d and memed to oblivion). His Batman mandated PR team has been begging him to stop for months but in response he posts himself TikTok dancing (terribly) in front of a green screen in the background showing an image of the emails while asking for more suggestions.

If anyone has any ideas like this or fics to recommend plz tell me In the comments, I love the Justice League just casually being celebrities.

[stargirl-russo]

Sailor Song (Alessia Russo x Reader)

Summary: Joining Arsenal WFC was supposed to be the best thing for your footballing career, you were the best female footballer in the world after all. You didn't expect the unexpected longing of a certain blonde that came with it.

(Hi! I've never written fan fics before but I was inspired by some I read and thought why not?! i hope you like it, i honestly might delete later or return it to drafts if I can? or even a pt 2??? idk lmk if you want more! enjoy. do I need to add warnings>....suggestive? angst? )

Recalling the exact moment when it happened was difficult to comprehend, maybe because you tried to completely erase the moment from your memory. You felt embarrassed, ashamed, and even a little disgraced with yourself. Why did you have to like another girl, a straight girl, who definitely didn't feel the same?!

Joining Arsenal this season was exactly what both parties wanted - you needed a change in scenery, and they wanted - no needed - a more clinical finisher like yourself. Everyone at the team was especially welcoming, considering your intimidating resume of accolades at such a young age - taking the women's football world by storm. You got on with everyone on the team, especially the Aussies, Kyra, Steph and Caitlin - being Australian yourself. But one particular teammate stood out to you the most, for more reasons than one.

You'd never forget the first day you finally saw and met the Alessia Russo in person, after admiring her from afar for about a year. She was absolutely beautiful, incredibly captivating and alluring. Words couldn't explain how you felt when you saw her at training, or heard her laugh or when she would smile - which was always. The way your heart hammered against your chest, it felt like you couldn't breathe, the butterflies in your stomach erupted like crazy. These feelings, they just felt...right. She made you feel so giddy and happy.

Although the thrill of this girl crush was very exciting, a part of you couldn't help but feel extremely ashamed. You were not supposed to like a teammate, let alone girls. You couldn't help but admire her gorgeous blue eyes, her long lashes, her soft voice, and her long blonde hair as you smiled shyly and shook her perfectly manicured hand, introducing yourself. Her southern british accent made you weak in the knees. "I can't wait to share the pitch with you this season."

You were absolutely certain that no one knew about this infatuation, crush or admiration, or how down bad you were - whatever you wanted to call it - with Alessia Russo. It was just so easy to get along with her, your calm natured and laid-back personalities working well together. Both sharing certain things in common, attending the same college in the US for football at different years, your love for fashion, travelling, and similar music tastes. She was just so sweet, genuine, caring, and just a ray of sunshine - you couldn't get enough. The chemistry you both had was clearly evident on the pitch also, as your styles of play complemented each other perfectly; turning arsenal's season around with each match.

It scared you how you strongly you felt about her, as she probably had no idea about the effect she had on you, and above all, probably didn't feel the same. And now you were going to continue to play alongside her and work with her nearly every day this season. You'd eagerly wait to see your cheerful teammate and greet her happily weekly at training. It was a blessing and a curse, but it was something that kept you going.

Hiding your sexuality was something you had no trouble dealing with initially as you just constantly immersed yourself with the football: whether it was with routine season interviews, the sponsorship photoshoots, the constant training or the glamorous award shows - it kept you busy, a distraction which led to you further cementing your place as the best young women's footballer in the world. It's not anything anyone really expected of you anyway, to like girls. Besides, you never spoke about personal matters to the media, so no one really assumed anything at first. Which was a plus.

You'd constantly make excuses to avoid going out with friends away from football, who wanted to enjoy a night on the town, bragging about the boys they'd make out with at clubs, or the crushes they had on them. Not that you could relate though, but a part of you wished you could feel that sense of normalcy. To fit in, to relate. No one had no idea what you were going through or how you felt. It got harder to find excuses to deny random set ups with guys. Your feelings for Alessia were actually driving you to insanity, you were most likely going through an identity crisis - but you were still in denial.

However, the longer you concealed your true feelings and the harder you tried to deny it, you found it harder each and every day hiding how you felt about the certain blonde. It became more difficult to suppress your feelings, you wanted to talk to someone, - anyone - but you were afraid with how they would react if they found out. Besides you weren't going to embarrass yourself if she didn't even feel the same, what would be the point of coming out anyway right?!

But maybe you should've controlled yourself. You should have ignored her, distanced yourself even. It was fine though, you were just acknowledging that fact she was really gorgeous, and you weren't crushing on her - or so you told yourself. But the not-so-subtle glances at her during the training sessions said otherwise.

The glancing became constant, admiring her whenever she'd move with or without the ball or take a drink of water during break. You just couldn't help but admire her longingly. Thinking of believable excuses when being called out by the outspoken Katie McCabe became more difficult to articulate. You were certain Alessia was oblivious to this, and she was - for the time being.

It was supposed to be a post game interview focusing on the team's accomplishments this current season, given the difficulties the team faced at the beginning of the year. You expected to answer questions about your valuable contributions to the match and the squad, not some irrelevant, personal, stupid, phased, feelings that had nothing to do with football.

The lights were brighter than usual in the media room, you were riding a high after your incredible individual and team's performance. You couldn't stop smiling. Sitting in the media room alongside your captain Kim Little, you felt proud and finally content with yourself. You felt as if you were finally contributing to a team, a team that was winning. A distraction for the time being.

That is, until the question was asked.

You will never forget the way your stomach dropped at the question, the silence in the media room, the smirk on the reporters' face. He knew he struck a nerve as the colour drained from your face, you were no longer smiling. You're not sure why the question was asked or what value it had to the match you had just played, or above all - why this reporter was permitted into the the media room anyway asking such inconceivable questions.

You shook your head awaking from the absolute shock and audacity of the reporter. There is no way this is really happening right now. You were media trained - you got this. Totally.

'Could you please repeat the question?' You asked politely into the mic, besides the fact that your was voice now quiet and shaky as you squirmed in your seat, refusing to look at the reporter. He noticed your uneasy reaction, and pressed on, knowing there is more to what your letting on.

"Can you address the rumours within the women's football community that you currently have romantic feelings for your teammate, Alessia Russo?"

"What?! That's ridiculous. Next question."

Maybe you responded to that too quickly, way too quickly for it not to be suspicious as you dismissed him. To your knowledge, and last time you checked, you hadn't come out, you hadn't revealed how you felt about her to anyone - especially not Alessia, and you were certain someone as beautiful as her was taken - surely.....right?

Your throat was going to constrict, no doubt, your breathing becoming heavier and faster, your ears turning a bright red and your leg begins to bounce. Your eyes dart around the room. "How is this football related?" your captain Kim interjects, sensing your uncomfortable state as you fidget on the spot and find it hard to remain composed. She herself looks confused.

Both your heart and mind race. Who told them? How do they know? Where did they even think of something like that? They can't know. Does Alessia know?

You were widely aware that this post-game press conference was currently live. This didn't make the situation better. "Is there really nothing going on? You seem pretty flustered. Besides, you didn't deny it did you?" He smirked, a chorus of chuckles emerging from around the room.

"Stop instigating." The words pour out of your mouth defensively before you can stop them, let alone even comprehend what is going on. You can hear your heart beat in your ears.

"I'm not instigating anything, just trying to get the truth out of you. Why don't you start being honest? Show the world who you really are."

Your body shakes with frustration and panic, you can't do this anymore. You rush out of the media room, holding back tears of frustration. This is absolutely ridiculous you think to yourself, barging open the door of the locker-room, ignoring the looks from your teammates.

Silence fills the room, you look up at the locker room’s television, seeing Kim still in the media room - the broadcast was indeed live. Shit. Alessia, along with everyone else in the room definitely saw it. Shit. You freeze up.

Steph, your Aussie teammate turns to you "Hey, are you okay?" You refuse to say anything - afraid your voice might crack, further revealing your vulnerability. You refuse to make eye contact with anyone, especially Alessia. Steph senses the inner turmoil you’re enduring, and gestures everyone out of the locker-room.

You sit there with your head in your hands, as tears threaten to fall. You didn't reveal much in the post-match interview, so everything is fine right? But maybe thats the problem. You didn't deny anything technically - further exposing and embarrassing yourself and probably Alessia. You fail to notice she's still in the locker-room.

You look up slowly, locking eyes. Her ocean blue eyes bore into yours, a glimpse of concern and curiosity. "Can we talk?" She questions softly. Shit

"No thank you, I'd rather not." You say stubbornly, packing your wash bag quickly as she sits down next to you. You had to get out, you had to get away from her.

Alessia is surprised by your nonchalant response. "Lets just talk about this, please?" She says softly in a pleading voice, her eyes looking up, trying to lock with yours.

"I'm sorry." You say quietly, packing your bag and making your way towards the exit of the locker-room as fast as you can. You actually couldn't fathom that this was happening. Is this some sick joke?!

Alessia is concerned and saddened by your dismissive tone, she can tell that this whole situation has negatively affected you and is eating away at you. "Don't be sorry." She says softly, standing up. "It can be hard times, but I just want to understand whats going on. You clearly feel something. Something about me."

You stop in your tracks and turn around to face her, she makes her way towards you her eyes never leaving yours. Your heart aches, and she can see the adoration and the longing that you have for her in your eyes, behind internal conflict and self-hate.

"You're not a bad person. You know that I won't look at you differently." She whispers, pleading with you, trying to lock eyes with yours. "Please don't shut me out. I care about you, so much."

Alessia doesn't wait for a response. She steps closer to you now, closer the distance slowly. Your panting heavily, still refusing to look at her in the eyes, petrified you'd get lost in her ocean eyes. Terrified your eyes will reveal more than your words did in the press conference only moments ago. She can't feel the same. She doesn't.

She gently grabs your hand, interlocking your fingers with her ones. You feel as if you're going to have a heart attack, her touch sending bolts of electricity through your body. She can sense you're avoiding eye contact still.

"Hey, look at me" she whispers, staring at your now very flustered face, looking at you intently. Her eyes filled with concern, worry and something else, something you can't quite make out, something you've never seen from her before.

You still avoid her gaze, until she cups your cheek. You lock eyes with hers and you feel like you could die.

"just, look at me" she whispers once more, gently stroking your cheek bone with the pad of her thumb "thats it, just look at me."

Before you can stop yourself, the words fall out of your mouth in a whisper "i am. how can I not?" You let out a shaky breath at that, noticing her lips curl into a small smile, her eyes following your gaze down to her own lips.

"i know, I know you do, I see you" she whispers in response, moving closer to your face now, both your breaths mingling. Your heart continues to pound, her thumb gently traces your jawline, her eyes locked onto yours with an intensity you’ve never seen before.

Its as if time has stopped. Your heart is pounding so hard against your ribcage you might have a heart attack. But her presence, the way shes looking at you, her voice, her touch—it makes sense in ways you never expected.

And then, just as you think you can’t handle the intensity any longer, she leans in. Were you about to kiss the girl you've been in love with for so long now.....

[thebadboyfanclub]

One Can Only Hope (Cregan x Reader)

First of, I don’t know why this particular song was stuck in my head while I was writing but I think it fits the aesthetic of how the couple works together, also I don’t care that they didn’t pick this actor for me THAT is what Cregan stark looks like, and also sorry for not adding the last detail it just naturally went with a different approach

'may I present my second-born child and my precious only daughter, (y/n) Targaryen, the heiress of driftmark"

(y/n) bowed lightly before the stoic man that it deserves to be noted how thick his fur was which engulfed him, the man nodded as a sign of acknowledgment to the princess and the young heiress (y/n) could swear that she detected a faint smile forming on his lips, to be quite fair no one could tell since the lords' lips were faintly visible due to his distinguished beard, once (y/n)s deep blue eyes met his there was an instant influence on her that cause her to slightly shiver, mostly from anxiety and somewhat fear of the unknown.

(Y/n) could only describe the sensation similar to placing yourself at the very sharp edge of a tall cliff, as one would gaze down at the water the little voice would whisper to take a plunge, release yourself from the shackles of overthinking, whilst your mind begged you to take a step back and forget about all of this.

Unfortunately (y/n) was well aware of the reason why she had to take this long of a flight on dragon back and introduce herself to the new lord of the North, her mother had put a tremendous amount of effort into making this a trip that could be enjoyable too (y/n) but to no avail, she did not blame her mother, ever since she was a toddler (y/n) would catch whispers of numerous people around her castle that would venture on whom she would marry, as the moons passed and (y/n) became a lady the pressure became tighter than her corset.

"judging by the tremble and pink nose you are not accustomed to such a cold environment"

"I'm afraid not, I am willing to try though, if need be"

She suggested as her voice usually would be colourful and loud- something that princess rhaenyra adored- was now barely audible, Rhaenyra dreaded asking this of her only daughter, seven hells the reason she even had (y/n) was because of her failed match that was created under ambition and desperation for allegiance, now she had to bare the curse of the prey becoming the hunter as she set her daughter up in hopes this could bring peace and safety not only to the realm but to their family.

“It is an honor to have the Targaryen family as our guest, I believe last time it was with Queen Alyssane, was it not?”

“Indeed, my lord, though I cannot recall if we have ever United our house bloodline”

“That is correct, such a pity don’t you think Princess Rhaenyra? We must correct that mistake as fast as we can, before all that let me escort you to your chambers, you must rest after such travel”

Cregan's humor was a breath of fresh air for mother and daughter, both of them felt more comfortable through his commentary and light-hearted chatter.

Rhaenyra was extremely thankful that her daughter understood why this must be done if she had to be completely honest with herself partially the reason she chose Cregan as her daughter's match was how the whispers of his strength and his handsome nature made it to the red keep, another thing was a desperate attempt on keeping her daughter guarded, mayhaps if she found refuge in the north of the vicious Hightowers pushed Rhaenyra to war (y/n) would be tucked away and protected by the Lord.

As they walked through the castle Cregan started blabbering about all kinds of things his brain could master, he was certainly nervous when he got the letter from Rhaenyra herself asking for her daughter to be betrothed to him, Targaryen and Starks had, of course, rumors of laying together but never being United in the eyes of the Gods, and to add the fact that the lady is in line for the throne, the wedlock and children would bring such different aspect to his house.

"the lady of the north has to endure the stinging sensation of the icy air, but I believe having a humungous dragon that spews fire on command should help"

Rhaenyra smiled at the slight declaration of interest and almost a very subtle way of claiming their betrothal to be a fact, it was (y/n) 's turn to nod excitedly and let out a small giggle, Cregan was not a man that went unnoticed, young, tall, strong, beautiful, any woman of her status would thank the gods for such a match and a part of her was curious.

Due to the small sign of hope (y/n) careless tucked a strand behind her ear, revealing a part of her to the Lord that he had never seen before.

“Your ear”

He said almost in a question, subconsciously his head tilted in order to get a better view, hastily (y/n) let her hair fall back again, concealing her left ear, flustered and internally cursing herself.

“I don’t believe I have seen something like it before”

“I apologize, I-it is-“

“Unique, I know that Targaryens usually have violet eyes as your mother has, however, I can only guess you found that boring and chose something entirely different, you have quite the taste”

(Y/n)s eyes slightly widen at the kind-hearted nature of Cregan's comment, (y/n) was born with pointy ears, her mother would always jest that it was because the fairies brought (y/n) to her as a gift, others would say that the Targaryens started to blend more with their dragons and that Rhaenyra indulged in blood magic to have the daughter she always wanted.

Gossip and fairytales aside, (y/n) tried her best to conceal that little thing like a well-kept secret that she now had pulled the covers from. Cregan only smiled, (y/n) seemed like a peach on a summer day, full of sweetness, and the nectar could bring back the dead, her smile could make your teeth hurt like how they used to when he ate pie, the pointy ears in his eyes only gave her a boost in her ethereal presence.

Despite that (y/n) had to acknowledge that the man was nothing but a stranger, she had witnessed countless loveless marriages and men that sucked the life out of their wives,  besides all of that she pushed those types of thoughts to the side and masked her dark thoughts for the future with a brave face.

-

"Mother!"

(Y/n) exclaimed as she skipped over to Rhaenyra who rushed to her daughter's side, it had been months since (y/n) had seen her mother, and as content as she was with her new life no one could replace the place Rhaenyra had in her daughter's heart.

"oh my dearest, how lovely it is to see you, take a turn for me let me look at you"

(y/n) let out a snicker at her mother's request even though she complied almost immediately making Rhaenyra nod in approval, to no one’s surprise (y/n) had grown to be a proper lady, her red cape with the thick lining and fur, her hair down and disheveld from riding her dragon, plump red cheeks from eating well, and how could one forget her smile, shining through the realm and blessing her mother with a sigh of relief, Rhaenyra was relieved to say the slightest that her only daughter was taken care of.

"Princess, thank you for inviting us"

"nonsense, I would take any chance to see my baby"

"Mother" (y/n) whispered in embarrassment

"hush now young lady, to me, you will always remain the small babe that curled in my arms, you will know what I'm talking about sooner than late"

"about that, Mother, it might be sooner than you anticipate"

Rhaenyra froze in her spot, her eyes doubling their original size as an audible inhale of breath was heard, (y/n) 's eyes watered and her arms seemed to have a slight tremble whilst she took off her cape to reveal the cutest swollen belly. Rhaenyra stood still for only a second before she wrapped her arms as tight as she possibly could around (y/n) who did the same.

"no, my baby, why didn't you write me about this?"

"I-"

"We wanted to wait this time, I believe you understand, (y/n) wanted to tell you as soon as possible, I advised her not to, forgive me, princess"

Rhaenyra might not have birthed Cregan though she had given birth to (y/n) and that meant that she knew when her daughter was hiding, like now.

(Y/n) wanted to be cautious, after they suffered an early loss of their first baby before her belly could even swell, inevitable fear overtook her, she had refused to ride her dragon for the first three moons and she did her best to remain abed as much as possible.

Thankfully, Cregan shook her out of it, asking her to take a walk as often as his duties allowed him to, he would also attempt to ever so casually bring up how her dragon kept all of the town awake from roaring and complaining, even for this visit  (y/n) only agreed after Cregan offered to get up on the dragon with her so she can feel safe.

"it doesn't matter, all that I care about is that my baby is happy and healthy"

"Don't worry Mother, the north has been extremely good to me"

“For that I am certain, well then, let us celebrate, my little babe is having a little babe”

-

"It is good to see you back and we’ll, my lord"

"it is good to be back, especially with such a catch might I add, tell the cook to prepare the Stagg for supper, give the wild pig for you and the others"

"you are utmost gracious my lord, the princess is waiting for you in your chambers"

"wonderful, do not let anyone disturb us, I wish to stay by her side until supper is served"

Cregan skipped the way into his chambers, he was too caught up in the rush of the hunt and the excitement of reconnecting with his lady wife to notice the nods and stiff giggles of the servants and guards.

He didn't bother to knock, even if he was indecent there was nothing he hadn't seen, secretly he hoped to see her swollen belly bare, as it grew bigger Cregan had adored to kiss on her belly and rub it as he felt the kicks and moves of their child, together they would make plans for the future, like making sure the babe receives an egg for their cradle or getting a wolf cub as a pet.

"my de-"

"shush, you'll wake her"

medusa had cast her spell over Cregan as his eyes focused on the most extraordinary sight, his lady wife holding their babe while she sat up in their bed. (y/n) had never looked more beautiful in his eyes, her hair falling past her shoulders as her arms wrapped around the child and her big eyes sparkling with joy.

The baby was wrapped in a white blanket and (y/n) slightly rocked it, it almost could fool someone that (y/n) had already given birth to numerous children by the graciousness in her moves, Cregan could pull a chair and watch this for the rest of his days, alas his curiosity and excitement rushed him to her side, sitting right next to his lady wife in awe.

"bless me, when did this happen?"

"last morrow, the labors started hours after you left"

"my strong dragon, you did this without me, I must admit I am slightly wounded"

"I did not want to send someone until I delivered her, make sure she is fine and all"

if it was humanly possible Cregan would swear he could hear her trembling heart, as her pleading eyes uncovered the insufferable pain she went through that held hands tightly with distress and a splash of grief.

(Y/n) ached for the babe she had lost, wondering if it had been a boy to a girl, if it would have their father's eyes, or if they would prefer music over hunting, Cregan felt helpless, watching his love suffer as he also grieved in silence, though now it did not matter, the gods took mercy on them.

At just the perfect queue, the small babe cooed pulling both of them out of their trance, simultaneously the pair looked down at the fruit of their ever-growing bond with humungous smiles and cloudy eyes.

"she is gorgeous, once you fully heal we will throw a feast, I'll send some of my best men for a hunt, you should write to your mother, and ask her if she can find Dornish wine-"

"my lord, let us enjoy her before we present her to the realm, she is barely a morrow old"

"she is a princess, our princess"

"Precisely, our princess, come lay with us"

as much as (y/n) comprehends the weight of duty and the strict order of customs that came with such wonderful news, she had grown up with a mother who had wrapped her and her siblings with a cloak to protect their childhood years, allowing them to be kids amid chaos and now it was her time to step up and build a fort that kept her happy and safe.

Cregan puffed out a breath of defeat before he complied and climbed as carefully as a man of his statue could

“Let me see, oh perfect”

“She will grow out of it”

“She better not, maybe the next one can have slit eyes as well”

“My love, I do not believe I can give birth to a full dragon”

“One can only hope”

Cregan jested as (y/n) laughed, the young babe had inherited her mother's ears, Cregan would often brush (y/n) 's hair away from her face to take a look at her ears, or brush his fingers over them as she laid her head on his chest at night, sometimes (y/n) would slap away his hand while he roared with laughter, others she would just bask in his admiration, thanking whoever took favor in her and gave her the man that loved her, pointy ears and all.

Requests are open!