#and the other time was with a friend who started ghosting me some months later just because I didnt give her enough adopt me pets or smth 💔

[omgfangirlland]

I random Idea suddenly appeared in my head (I was about to sleep but this is more important). Originally I had two Ideas but I thought.. Why not combine them? My first idea was a neglected reader who can see ghost.. Like, one day she just developed this abilities. Imagine how it would go if Thomas Wayne and Martha Wayne were still in the mansion and looking after the batfam. They can see how Bruce Wayne is threatening his daughter and stuff.

The second Idea was a more realistic neglected reader where she's really neglected and I don't mean birthday is being forgotten or what not.. I mean real neglect where she had to work for money and her own food.. Where she has to learn how to cook for herself and learn how to do things at the very young age. I want to see her actual struggle for survival where there are times she barely makes money so she had to go hungry for some days.. Sometimes she resorts to stealing foods just to eat.

I wanted to combine these two but I'm too sleepy to continue two peace out ✌👉

-🔱

The sudden burst of creativity right as you get in bed is such a serious problem- like pls- I had like 10-12 hours where I could have done all of that- why at 3am?😭😭

When I first read this, it was way so late, and I was like "cooking her own food and working isn't neglect-" and then I realized I am in fact poor, and due to the necessity of my parents needing me to be somewhat independent my view of that point is skewed- also the reader is going to be quite young at the start of being in the family so really, a five or 10 year old shouldn't be operating the stove without supervision or finding jobs to pay for necessities-

Reader is the oldest sibling(I love the forgotten oldest daughter trope) in this for various reasons(angst) and I am so keeping ghost!Thomas and Martha btw-

CW - postpartum mental breakdown/psychosis turned into attempted infanticide via drowning, miscarriage/suicide/drugs mentioned.

My thoughts on how this MC came into Bruce's care come down to three options: Bruce and her mom were actually lovers and married, but after Reader's birth mama either left, had a postpartum breakdown, and is now rotting in Arkham, or she died. I personally prefer the Arkham route, but dying during childbirth is also quite angst filling. (Let's all ignore how I keep fridging Reader's mom, pls)

----

Martha and Thomas were by your mother's side as soon as she walked in with you in her arms, Martha almost crying at the sight of your scrunched up face, still wrinkly and flushed. They were both so happy when Bruce found love, both were so sure he'd die alone in some alley, and when the news of the pregnancy came, they were right there, celebrating with their son as if they were still alive.

But Bruce got busy, too busy with both Wayne Enterprises and being Batman. And while your mom had her friend and Alfred, she needed the reassurance of her husband. Martha was the first to notice the cracks.

They both noticed how you'd look at them as if they were right there, so they'd interact with you. Playing with you, making sure you wouldn't bump into anything when you started crawling five months later- but while Thomas would teasingly crawl after you, Martha couldn't help but keep close to her son's wife.

She tried her best to soothe her, trying to give her some warmth from beyond the veil. She knew what was happening- well... to some degree. Martha, too, went through post-partum depression, however, hers stemmed from losing Bruce's unborn brother. Martha hoped to be there for her daughter-in-law before she tried something she'd regret- The dead woman thought your mom would put herself at risk, try to take herself out. She feels guilty that she hadn't seen it earlier.

Your mom would sometimes stare at you for hours, and while it worried Alfred, he brushed it off as the woman simply admiring the bundle of joy she created. He, like Bruce, had other things to attend to. He was sure everything was fine, your mother simply loved you too much.

None of the living expected what happened, mainly because of their own willingness to ignore the clear changes, but Martha and Thomas did. They stuck around even after nightfall, so when at three in the morning your mom walked in and took you out of your cradle, they were hot on her trail.

Obsessive thoughts about your baby, paranoia, sleep problems, hallucinations, and delusions were all symptoms of postpartum psychosis, easily confused with the similar symptoms of postpartum depression.

It'll be easy that everything went to shit quickly- but it didn't. Martha and Thomas watched with pure confusion as your mom filled the bathtub, the thought that she may harm you not even crossing their mind as she held you close, swaying side to side while humming some lullaby. It was a slow build, but when she did submerge your head under the water and firmly held you there, it sure felt like a hundred years passed right through Martha.

She doesn't know how she did it, but Martha was screaming her lungs out as she and her husband pushed the woman away, making her slump against the opposite wall, but neither could pull the plug out, leaving you fighting to keep your head above the water.

Alfred ran as soon as he heard the yelling, a chill passing through him for a moment as he thinks it sounds way too familiar, and your wailing, pausing just for a second to look at your mom, shaking in the corner as she mutters to herself, before he had you in a tower in his arms. Both of the dead Waynes dropped next to the bathtub, clutching at their unbeating hearts and shaking

Bruce is left depressed, traumatized, and with a baby who keeps crying. This wasn't how it was supposed to go in his mind. They were supposed to be happy, the it couple with a sassy baby to boot, they were supposed to grow old, he was supposed to hand over the Batman mantle to you.

Now the responsibility of caring for you fell on Alfred, Bruce being unable to care for himself, let alone a baby he couldn't look at without bursting into tears. And Alfred did his best... for maybe three years.

As soon as you started walking on your own, Alfred started pulling away, redirecting his attention to his usual work. By the time you were three years old, you barely knew of the existence of Bruce. Not because you actually saw the man, but because his parents tried to tell you about him.

You were a quiet toddler, mainly due to learning that if you cried, only Martha and Thomas would show up, and they really couldn't do much. Hell, they barely taught you to speak, but oh, did they love to hear your little transatlantic accent in the few sentences you could make.

They were indulging themselves, really, especially when you'd call the mama and papa- "No, MArtha! I'm not crying, you are, my dear-" They both were tearing up the first time it happened. They were indulging themselves with you, because if their focus wasn't on you, it would be on Bruce, and both were so disappointed in him.

They tried at first, exhausted themselves trying over and over again to nudge their boy towards his daughter- typing on his laptop, writing in the mirror, leaving her toys where he'll find them- nothing worked.

So they redirected their attention to your education- they were terrible at it, but Alfred sure as hell didn't seem to care- so they did their best. You could read perfectly, however, your writing isn't the best, and your speech was stuttered most of the time as you preferred to be mute. There really wasn't anyone to force you to speak, your father's parents unable to get much out of you, especially if they pushed. Teaching you sign language was the best course of action.

For the early part of your life, Alfred still cooked enough to leave leftovers for you to munch on, but sometime along the way, he stopped. Martha and Thomas were stumped. They were raised with buffets and golden spoons glistening in foods they didn't even think about how they were being made.

There was also the problem of you being too short to reach the stove top. Your newfound diet consisted of toast, sandwiches, salads, and the occasional baked potatoes and meat. As you grew older, you got better at cooking, mainly due to sneakingly searching the internet and quickly writing down recipes.

Sadly, the problems keep piling up. The more you grew, the more you needed new clothes, new shoes, sanitary stuff from pads to toothpaste- Bruce couldn't be bothered to be a presence in your life, so you tried to talk to Alfred. With no avail. The old butler was simply too busy, moving past you with more speed than you could keep up with. But you needed money, so despite Martha's protest and Thomas's worry, you went outside the manor.

At first, you did meager jobs that people gave you out of pity. Washing that, trimming the lawn, throwing away this, helping the old lady with carrying bags. It didn't pay well, honestly, it was mostly trading, some clothes or food for a bit of help. Until a goon of the Penguin stopped you.

You weren't stupid. You knew the package was drugs, but the amount he was willing to pay was simply too much to refuse. You guessed that was the perk of the public thinking you were dead, no fear of being kidnapped for ransom.

You became a familiar face among them, and while most were ticked off by a kid being involved, there were a few who threw in a few extra bucks. Martha and Thomas hated it. But you started having clothes that fit, food that wasn't burned, and even had a few extra to buy yourself treats, so they held their lips shut. You usually just put the extra money away.

By the time you turned thirteen, you just wrote Bruce off as a man incapable of love. But then Richard "Dick" Grayson came along. And then Jason. And Tim. Despite Martha and Thomas trying to tell you that it wasn't you, that they loved you- Bruce was just-... They couldn't justify it.

The more time passed, the more you thought those two were hallucinations your mind made up to stop you from going insane. You stopped talking to them. You stopped even acknowledging them. By the time Tim fully settled in, you had left.

There was nothing for you there, you took care of yourself for so long, you didn't need Alfred or Bruce- no matter how much you cried at night, wishing for an ounce of the attention they give the boys- and threw yourself into the crime world. There wasn't anything else you could do. You had no school, could barely write, let alone speak- but you were a good mule, and if someone picked you up and decided to train you to be a weapon, you were fine with that.

When John Constantine first set foot in Wayne Manor, the first thing he saw was the bat's dead parents glaring at him. He expected a lot of things when Bruce called him in need of help, angry grandparents who were worried for a runaway granddaughter, who had been missing for years, and that Bruce forgot even existed, wasn't one of them.

----

This took quite a lot of hours to write- kinda rushed towards the end.

Other thoughts:

If Reader did get picked up by a rogue, it'll be funny for them to be either Uncle Two-Face or Slade... It'll even be funny if it were Talia or Ra's after Jason left.

I strongly believe the Reader wasn't even sent to kindergarten.

I also think Martha and Thomas may have lied and told the MC that her mom is dead instead of institutionalized.

If there is supernatural shit, trust, John Constantine will make an appearance.

It'll ALSO be funny if Reader came to terms with her being able to see the undead, so she also becomes a mage/hunter on the side, kinda like the Winchesters. So when John finally connects the dots, he's just like- "Oh. Oh no. We have a bigger problem here."

Dick at first thought Batsis was a helper. So did the others until they were corrected by Alfred. Nobody cared to ask for further info, except for maybe Jason, who asked once why she isn't eating with the family, and it made Alfred pause for so long that Jay just assumed she's mean.

[donaviolet]

Friendship is the most special thing in the world because no award could be give me bigger happiness than jumping around in my room and smiling because my pookie asked me if I wanted to match pfps

[hellfire--cult]

Long Distance Bf!Eddie Munson x fem!Reader

wc: 17.7k

+18 reader is a gamer, talk about games, long distance, pining, sex toys, mentions of phone sex and video sex, established relationship, slight angst, reader being insecure, kissing, oral (f and m), rough, spit, dirty talking, p in v (unprotected), eddie being a sweetheart as well as a perv in a good way

Summary: You didn't plan it, but through a game lobby you met the person who would become your long distance boyfriend. The time came for him to visit you for the first time after five months of dating... and you are not going to hold back.

a/n: thank you to @ghost-proofbaby for proofreading and fixing so much shit, as well as @andvys cause these bitches betaread almost every filth i write. this was supposed to be a v-day fic, so happy belated valentine's day.

Please reblog, be kind.

NO MORE BUFFERING

“Eddie, what kind of internet do they have in Hawkins? You’re lagging like shit… again.”

“Don’t disrespect it–” Silence, a robotic voice coming in making you roll your eyes. “–It’s a small town–” and again. “–You know.”

“No, cause I didn’t hear half the shit you said.” He froze on the screen for a second before the call dropped. A second later, your phone started ringing, making you scoff with a smile, answering the video call. 

“I am so tired of this shit, sweetheart.” You saw his mop of curls coming into view as he placed the phone standing straight on his desk. You saw he was shirtless as he put cream on his hair, one of your requests after seeing the dryness and open ends on them.

“I told you to call the company many times!” 

“It’s not the company, Hawkins is shit.” You giggled at his outburst, feeling your cheeks flush the more you looked at the expanse of his chest. The arms covered in tattoos, and you could see the happy trail going down into his sweatpants, which were too low, and his bush started sticking out a bit. “You done checking me out?”

“You’re hot.” You heard him chuckle on the other side of the screen. Your lovely boyfriend just posed for the camera, pretending to be in a vogue magazine or something. You giggled as you felt your cheeks heat up. No matter how many months had passed, he would still make you feel giddy and nervous. Who would have thought that the stranger standing on the other side of the screen would become your long distance boyfriend?

You didn’t plan it, really. It just happened.

Since you were little you liked playing video games. You adored it. Unlike some of the girls and boys in your school who did sports and stuff, you preferred to stay home with your Playstation 1, then the second one, then the Wii, then your first computer to play on. You made friends along the years, but then those friends lost interest in video games.

Nowadays, you have a full on gamer setup built in a room of your apartment. You also had studied Video Game 3D blending and you have a very well-paying job at a game producer company. You were basically living the life you always wanted to have. Your friends didn’t mind that you were a hermit or a little introvert with yourself. They learned to love you that way, often just laying on the bed as you play games, just being there for company, and you greatly appreciated that.

The problem was, none of your friends played online, and you were sick and tired of going into teams with random people in Call of Duty, and you were also disgusted and fed up with the men that just insulted you in game just because you were a woman, even if your score was better than what they did. They just kept insulting you, reporting you, and you encountered maybe just one woman every night in the lapse of ten matches. 

So, you opened your Discord app, where you can join community servers of fandoms, and you joined the Call of Duty official server. You wanted to build a team, or to join one where they would not judge you. Maybe you could find an all-girl team in there. Your mouse moved around, looking through the topic channels to find what you were looking for. Finally, there it was.

‘Team finder.’

You decided to give it a try and joined that channel, seeing the people messaging each other, some asking for teammates and revealing their status in the game. You were pretty high in rank, so you were trying to look for a team that had the same one or close. Suddenly, a user that went by ‘i wear weird al shirts’ sent a message.

‘Looking for just one more teammate. We are looking for either a diamond or crimson rank!’

Your heart beat a little bit rapidly as you replied to them, telling them you were crimson rank. You received a message request later, privately, and you saw it was that same username, introducing themselves as Dustin. You checked their profile card, seeing they went by he/him. You were very respectful with the online community’s pronouns, so you always made sure to get them right.

He told you that they have a server for the teammates only, but that they would like to test how they feel with your gaming ability first. You licked your lips a bit and hovered over your keyboard, wondering if you should tell him you are in fact a woman. But you don’t know the rest of the team, so there might be another girl in there. 

You gave Dustin your username, immediately receiving an invite in game. You joined the crew. You entered a very silent lobby, the other five people inside but not talking. You assumed that they were talking to each other in that private discord. You now hovered on your hot key to push to talk in game, but you didn’t quite want them to know you were a woman yet. Finally, one talked.

“Hello! I’m Gareth!”

“You are just going to give out your name like that? Christ.” Three guys for now. So you got Dustin, Gareth, an annoyed person and you are left to know two more. 

“Stop having a stick up your ass, Mike. I’m Jeff.” Another guy.

“I’m Eddie, the most handsome guy in here.” You saw the speaker icon at the top of their characters light up each time they talked.

“Shut up, Eddie. Let’s just play and see if this guy is any good.” This Mike dude was very irritable. Your eyebrow twitched when he called you ‘guy’. They thought you were a man.

“Hang on, maybe it’s a lady!” The character of the guy named Gareth lit up.

“As if.” Mike talked once more and your anger was slowly rising - you were committed to make this guy eat his fucking words. When you get angry in game, you get ten times better, and this stupid little man is gonna wish he got on your good side by the end of it.

“You ain’t going to present yourself, sugar?” The Eddie guy talked and you decided to type by now.

‘If by the end of the game you guys want me in your party, I will.’

“Fair enough.” He responded and you sighed in relief. They went silent, and you could only guess they were talking on the discord again to each other. They started the game.

You got first kill.

First headshot.

The guys were cheering you on. Even the Mike guy was going insane over you.

You ended up as Player of the game. You smiled in triumph as you laid back on your chair. The guys cheered for you in the lobby, and you received a message from Dustin, the invite to a server called, ‘Hellfire Club’. What an odd name. They played nice, and they were fun with their commentary, the problem was if they would accept you when they learned you are a woman. One way to find out.

You clicked on the link, accepting the invite. You saw them all connected to the voice chat, and you felt your belly turning with nerves. You licked your lips as you took a deep breath in, seeing the messages in the chat to join them. You pressed on the voice chat, their voices blasting in your ears, cheering for you.

“Look who it is! Our champion! Our savior!” Dustin yelled and you smiled, containing a laugh. 

“May we ask for the name of our brilliant knight?” You saw Eddie’s icon light up at his voice. This was it.

“Lady.”

Silence. Radio fucking silence. This was the part where you get kicked out, wasn’t it? Or where they start bashing on you, or bully you, or assume you are cheating in the game. 

“Holy fucking shit!” The guy Jeff exclaimed as they started laughing, Dustin’s icon lighting up then.

“Mike, you better fucking apologize cause she carried your sorry ass just now!” You rolled your eyes, not even thinking the guy would properly apologize but–

“I am so sorry, I am forever in your debt.” Your eyes widened and then you saw on your other monitor how, thanks to this match, Mike had ascended rank in game. 

“Uh, no problem.” You didn’t want to make your voice cheery, or high pitched with emotion, just in case you would annoy these guys. Eddie talked again through chuckles.

“We have a goddess in our land, boys, we gotta behave.” You sat there, expectantly as you waited for everyone to settle down. Then Eddie, who you saw was the one who created the server to begin with, talked to you again. “Does the goddess have a name?”

You gave your name softly, and each guy greeted you properly. You were stunned at this change of scenery. These guys were chill with you, but you really do wonder–

“Aren’t you guys freaked out that a girl is playing with you?”

“Are you kidding? One of our members was a girl too, she kicked ass, the sister of a friend. She started school so she is not able to play with us as much as before!” Dustin explained and your mouth fell open at that. They didn’t care if you’re a girl. They just cared that you played nice. 

“Ahem, sweetheart.” Your body straightened up at the pet name, not disliking it at all for some reason. “You wanna join Hellfire?”

Every Tuesday, Wednesday and Friday, you all played together for hours. Mostly were wins thanks to you and Eddie, then there were some losses, but not a single game was toxic. They raged sure, but you weren’t far behind.

“COCK SUCKING SLUT, YOU FUCKING CHEATING PIECE OF SHIT!” You yelled loudly, ready to throw your controller across the room because you knew you found someone using a bot to aim perfectly at the head. 

The boys’ laughter resonated in your ear, and Gareth was always the one to try to calm you down. You were so happy to have found a group that liked you, that had fun with you, and honestly was super interactive. The boys shared their foods, purchases, even clothes they bought in the general chat of the server. They showed their pets as well, Eddie, you and Jeff being the only two who didn’t own any.

You confessed you’ve always wanted a rat, and while most of the guys disagreed, Eddie was on your side 100%. He found rats cute, and he knew that they are as intelligent as a seven month old puppy.

One night in particular, after a month of talking with them, they decided to have a drinking night with you. Even if they were close to each other in distance, they stayed in their homes so that you could join and not feel left out. You were so thankful for them, but that meant you would be on camera for the first time. You wondered what they imagined you looked like, and you wondered how they looked like as well. They never shared pictures in the chat, and you never shared yours. You assumed they just wanted to keep their privacy. They knew each other in real life, unlike you.

So you got yourself out of your hermit clothes, put on makeup, even did your hair a bit. You put on an oversized sweater and prepared your beer in front of your PC. You took a deep breath in as you fixed the camera at the top of your monitor and you looked at yourself in the preview before joining the voice chat. You could see everyone pinging you, hurrying you, and you finally clicked the button.

The boys cheered as you came on the screen. You saw how they clapped and whooped. Only one person was not saying anything and– Oh fuck… 

You didn’t expect Eddie to look like that. You didn’t expect Eddie to look like your type. Oh, fuck. And he wasn’t talking. He wasn’t saying anything, why?

“Hey, Munson, you alright there?” Jeff asked with a snicker on his lips, which made Eddie finally snap out, his curls falling on his face. You didn’t know if it was because of the lighting or what, but his face turned slightly red. 

“Yep, totally fine. I’m just bummed I have to give up my throne.” Your eyebrows met in the middle a bit, staring into his camera only.

“Your throne?”

“Prettiest from the group, duh.” At his words, Gareth whistled, Mike and Dustin laughing with a cringe, but you felt yourself flush all over. It’d been a while since you got complimented like that, but that was because you truly never went out. You can’t even remember when was the last time you had sex. Your dildo doesn’t count.

“I beg to differ.” You commented and that seemed to catch Eddie off guard, because he choked a bit with his saliva. Jeff laughed, wiggling his eyebrows at the camera.

“You guys want us to leave?” And was it evil for you to wish that? A bit. You chuckled and shook your head as you raised your can towards the camera.

“I thought this was a drinking night?”

After that camera call, it seemed the boys were keen to keep putting the cameras when in the voice chat. You did as well, taking them grocery shopping and to the pet store to look at rats, the only one aww’ing at them being Eddie. But there was one particular call where Jeff, Gareth and Eddie were together while Mike and Dustin were not online.

“Welcome to your first Corroded Coffin concert, sweetheart!” You were in awe as you saw them play, but Eddie– Eddie caught your eye. He had been catching your eye for a while, and after exchanging instagrams with everyone, that attraction only grew. 

But what were you thinking? He lived in Indiana, you lived in Virginia. This was just attraction over a guy you’ll probably meet in a year if this online thing doesn’t fall apart. It’ll go away. It had to.

Yet there was one night, where Mike, Dustin, Eddie and you were playing together, Dustin and Mike telling you that they were heading to bed. You pouted a bit on camera, not really wanting to go to sleep, but you knew the gaming night was over. You said goodbye to Mike and Dustin, about to say goodnight to Eddie as well, but–

“I’m not tired, you wanna stay on call with me, sweetheart?”

One call turned to two, to three, to four, to times when you both pretended to be offline so you could call each other privately. You watched movies, talked about TV shows, about one another’s lives, likes and dislikes, and soon, your attraction turned into a crush. Your heart raced whenever you called him, whenever you woke up with good morning messages from him, and then you called each other every single day. 

You shouldn’t have done this. You were now with a crush on a man who lived miles away from you. And maybe he didn’t even feel the same for you, just that he found a new friendship in you and maybe he just wanted a feminine touch in his life.

“This movie fucking sucked ass, Eddie.” You laughed as you rubbed your eyes, the credits of the movie you two watched together rolling up. You looked at his face as he laughed into his hands in shame.

“This is what I get for following Steve’s suggestion, for fucks sake.” ‘Drag me to hell’, supposedly a great scary movie. Sure, if you think a possessed talking goat is scary.

“Tell Steve that if I ever meet him, I’m tying him to a chair so he forcefully watches the ridiculous 6. That will cause him an aneurysm.” You heard him scoff, putting a hand to his chest in feigned offense.

“Take that back right now!” You could only giggle, shaking your head.

“No, I’m standing by what I said.” 

“Take it back–”

“Make me.” Suddenly he went silent and your smile fell. Did you fuck it up? Did you go overboard with that?

“Do you want me to?” His voice was not playful, no… it was flirty… Oh, he was flirting with you. Eddie was flirting with you. 

“Mmm, I don’t know. Depends on how you do it.” This time you heard him groan, your heart beating out of your chest as he leaned forward, his eyes fixed on the camera and the screen, probably looking at you.

“Okay, I think it’s time we cut to the chase, shouldn’t we, sweetheart?” 

“What do you mean?”

“I enjoy being alone with you here, do you enjoy being alone with me?” You felt your body flushing all over, sweat appearing on your fingertips.

“I do… a lot.” And he nodded. You noticed how he nervously looked at the camera and then at the screen. He ran a hand through his hair before he spoke again.

“Darling… I know it’s fucking stupid, and– Kind of weird– but, fuck… I have never met a girl like you. In my entire fucking life. I mean– Who the fuck listens to the Sims 1 soundtrack on the daily?” Your eyes widened at that, gasping.

“I do! It’s very comforting!” He only chuckled, shaking his head.

“And something I never heard in my life… You’re weird.” His eyes were soft as he looked at you. You bit your bottom lip as you played with your fingers on your lap. 

“Is that a good thing?”

“I really like you, sweetheart.”

And the words took a while to process in your brain. This guy that never got to touch you, or see your entire body, likes you. He just does. He likes you because of who you are, not exactly how you look. The cameras on were just a plus to make the calls even more personal, which only made your crush grow bigger.

A smile spread on your lips as you saw him covering his face with his hair, acting shy, peeking through it as if he were hiding. He was cute. Such a dork. And so handsome… and gentle. Caring. He bought you a plushie you wanted from Kingdom Hearts that you saved in your wishlist. You were surprised when you received it, not knowing if you accidentally bought it, but the note inside made your heart melt on the spot.

‘Happy birthday, my goddess.’

“I really like you too, Eddie.”

So no, you didn’t plan it. You didn’t plan to date someone online for five months. You presented him to your friends and even if a little weirded out, they really didn’t expect something else coming from you. They were happy you found someone, even if not in the practical way. 

The boys already knew. They had confessed to you, embarrassing Eddie in the process, that he never stopped talking about you. He praised you whenever he could, reminding everyone you were a lady and beautiful and that you had to be respected. 

But in a relationship come needs. Eddie is handsome. He is… well, he is hot. You find him extremely attractive, inside and out. Your dildo could be named Eddie at this point from how many times you used it and called his name out loud, pretending your pink dildo was his cock. 

So, in one bold movement, after a month of properly dating, you decided to do your first bold move. You sent him a suggestive picture of your cleavage. 

‘Should I wear this top for Heather's party?’ 

It had taken him a moment to reply to you, making you wonder if he was busy or if he was just staring at your picture. You started second guessing yourself, wondering, again, if you had gone too far, only for your phone to ping.

‘Sweetheart, do you want me to die?’

‘Why? I’m just asking a simple question…🥺’

‘Can you send more pictures? Or a video works best, I need to do a thorough inspection to give a verdict.’

And the sexting part began. Then the pictures were no longer suggestive, just plain nude. He started that one after you sent a picture of yourself in your lacey underwear and bunny ears in front of your full-length mirror.

‘I’m so fucking hard right now, darling, you have no fucking idea.’ He sent this message with a blurred picture attached. You knew what it could be but– You were not prepared. You were not prepared for what you saw. Not only was it big. Not only it was curved. But Eddie had a tattoo along the shaft. He had Sindarin markings on the underside. 

It made you wet in an instant. 

Sexting turned into phone sex with video calls. He saw you, you saw him. He saw you fucking yourself in your dildo as you moaned his name, and you saw him fuck his hand to yours. It was daily, if not every two days. You had never done this before, but fuck if it wasn’t hot. Hot, yet not enough. 

Which brings you to five months into the relationship, and the present day.

“Hey, sweetheart.” He called out as you hummed, still looking at his body as if you were daydreaming. He laughed, leaning over to look into the phone camera. “Stop drooling over me, for just a second.”

“No way, not possible, live with it.” He shook his head at you, his smile faltering slightly with nerves and you tilted your head in wonder as you felt your stomach flip with nervousness. “What’s wrong–”

“Nothing is wrong. I promise! But uhm… well… With the new job, I managed to… kind of save up.”

“For what?”

“Visiting you.”

Your brain short-circuited. You had explained to Eddie that you couldn’t visit him for a while, not until your video game project was done with, and your work days were never set. You couldn’t take your PC with you, so you had to stay home. 

“What?”

“I– Tell me to fuck off if you’re not comfortable, I just– I really want to see you. There’s… a flight on… Valentine’s day.”

You felt yourself melt in your seat as you heard his words. He wanted to meet you for the first time and not on just any day. Valentine’s day. You knew Eddie had been struggling with finding a good paying job a few months back, finally landing a good one as a mechanic in his town.

“You… You got a new job and instead of saving up for the new guitar–”

“I saved up to finally meet you, yes– but if you tell me you’re not ready, I’ll go and just buy–”

“Yes… please…” And you two stared at one another for a few seconds, your heart beating wildly in your throat as he stood there.

“I– Yes?”

“Yes, I want you to come here, Eddie.” 

You saw him walk backwards cheering with his fists in the air, and you smiled as he jumped excitedly, his hair bouncing all around him. You saw his uncle Wayne opening the door to see what Eddie was doing, and you couldn’t help but snort as Eddie stopped and pointed at his phone.

“I’m meeting my girlfriend!”

“Okay? Uh–” Wayne looked at you and nodded in greeting, “Hi sweetheart.”

“Hi, Wayne.” His uncle didn’t live with Eddie, but he came to visit often and even stayed for a day or two at his home. At Eddie’s request. It seemed Eddie wanted independence, but he was too attached to Wayne. He had explained to you about his past, about his family, and it was completely understandable that he couldn’t let Wayne go that easily. 

“Keep it down, I’m excited for you two, but your neighbors will complain again.” And like that, he closed the door. The nerves invaded you once again and you saw Eddie rushing to grab the phone and taking you as he sat on the computer. You saw him typing away, and you knew he was looking to book that flight right away. 

You saw the concentration in his scrunched-up features, his tongue poking out from the corner of his mouth as he squinted at the screen, clicking away. Excitement built in your belly as you looked at him. As you looked at a guy that just lived far away, yet you’ve never felt more connected to in your entire life.

A guy you fell in love with, despite the recent connectivity issues.

“BOOKED!” He yelled excitedly and you giggled, covering your mouth as you thrashed around, finally realizing you would meet him. You would meet Eddie. You would meet your boyfriend for the very first time, and on Valentine’s day to top it off. That would be a month away, and you could tell your work to give you a breather the week he stays with you, to not bother you as much.

You were excited… but nervous as fuck.

What if he doesn’t like you? What if he sees you and is disgusted? Should you kiss him as a greeting? Were the flowers in your hand too stupid to give to him? He said he liked them, so you got him some because men also deserve flowers on Valentine's day. You were standing at the Arrivals gate, just where Eddie had told you he would get off on. 

You had prepared your home from top to bottom, cleaned it all up, and you even went to get a Bikini Wax with Heather. You exfoliated your skin, put on some lotion, and you were going a little bit crazy with it– But, was today the day? Not only were you going to meet him, but should it also be the time where you could confess to him?

You didn’t know if it was too soon or not, being the first time you ever fell in love for real in your life. You were pretty sure it was love. How could it not be? Eddie had not answered you for a whole day once, and you could not get in contact with him at all. His location was also off. Your first thought was very dark, afraid he had gotten into an accident with his motorcycle or something. You had called Gareth and you demanded him to go take you to Eddie.

You made him go to Eddie’s house while on a video call with you, and when he arrived and knocked on the door, Wayne had answered. Eddie had caught Mono. You were relieved yet the stress didn’t leave you at all. Wayne showed you Eddie’s state on video, and you saw him breathing at least, with a warm towel on his forehead and all. 

When he started messaging you back, you told him you were relieved but you had asked Wayne for his own phone number just in case. You remember Eddie being touched by how much you cared, and the fact that Wayne trusted you enough to give him his personal information just for the sake of knowing Eddie was okay.

You were clearly in love, and gone. You were holding flowers, balloons in the shape of bats and hearts. You looked silly, but you noticed some people looking at you with smiles on their faces, knowing you were most likely hopelessly in love waiting for your partner. They were absolutely right.

Suddenly, the doors opened and you held your breath in as people started walking out. You saw a family getting back together, then an old lady and a man who brought her flowers, kids greeting their mother. You were nervously waiting and– did you get the gate wrong? Maybe you did? Should you check your phone to make sure? That is nonsense, you checked like forty times, but maybe you looked at it wrongly–

And then, you saw him, dressed all in black, guitar strapped to his back, his hair pulled up in a bun, his left hand dragging the carry on. His other hand? It was holding a rat plushie with cotton flowers in its hands. You felt your eyes burning as you saw him looking around, your heart literally about to jump out of your chest and your stomach twisting with vines of nerves. This would be it. You did small little jumps with your feet, rising your heels and then putting them back down, over and over again and–

His eyes finally clashed into yours. His face lit up instantly, a smile spreading from ear to ear, his dimples showing off completely. He was so beautiful in real life and you just felt complete. You felt so giddy, something you never thought you would feel for someone else, at least not in the way you met that someone.

You bounced on your feet excitedly, smiling widely at him. His face, still smiling, made a confused frown as he looked around at what you got him. His feet started working, rushing your way as you waited by the limit. You were finally going to hold him. You were finally going to feel his warmth and spend time with him and–

You heard a huge thud of something falling and then big arms closed around you. Your arms wrapped around him, trying to not let go of his gifts but you felt like crying from how happy you felt. How whole you suddenly became. To be able to hug the person you have been talking to for months, that you have shown the most intimate parts of yourself.

His face was deep in the crook of your neck and shoulder, and you realized he had thrown the carry on to the ground as well as the plushie he got you. It was okay. You didn’t care. You felt his hands all over your back as if he was holding something so precious that he was afraid it would fall apart if he let go. And maybe, it would. Now you don’t know how you will be able to keep going with your daily life once he is gone. How you’ll keep going without his hugs, kisses and–

You flushed all over as your thoughts became impure, in just one single instant. Oh, he smelled good. He smelled so fucking good. You were in such bliss, you didn’t want to let go, but you knew you had to. You felt him pulling away for a second, his eyes meeting yours and you held your breath tightly as you waited for him to kiss you. He was going to, wasn’t he?

“Are these for me?” He suddenly asked and you were so stunned, looking down to your hands and you smiled widely, giving the flowers to him, as well as the balloons. He chuckled as the smile never left his lips. You saw a hint of a blush on his cheeks as he looked at them. “I never received flowers in my life– Valentine’s day gifts at that.” 

“Me neither.” He smiled at you, putting all the gifts in one hand so he could bend down and pick up the plushie that had those cotton flowers in the middle. You squealed loudly as you grabbed it, inspecting it. Suddenly you caught on a scent, making you lean forward and smell it, and– It’s him. It’s his cologne. 

“Sprayed it myself. I may have put a cloth inside and stitched him up again for longer effects.” Your heart was in your throat as you felt overwhelmed with emotions. You hugged the rat tightly to your chest as Eddie stared down at you with a smile on his face. 

“Thank you…” Your voice was small and muffled into the plushie. You looked up at him with bright eyes, hopeful he would lean in, and you needed to kiss him. You wanted to kiss him. But–

“Should we go? I am in terrible need of a cigarette, sweetheart.” You giggled, nodding as he bent down to grab his carry on again with his free hand, and you two walked side by side. The people all around you looked weirdly your way but still kind of adoringly. It was a metalhead guy with flowers and balloons in his hand, of course they would look. 

You two walked through the airport, smiling like idiots. You wished you could hold his hand but he was not able to right now. You were wondering why he didn’t kiss you, and maybe you should? Maybe you should kiss him when you reach your car and he puts the things in the trunk. 

He talked to you about how Wayne made him share his location at all times, the old man worried his nephew was travelling to another state by himself even if where he went, he was not going to be alone at all. You took your free hand to message Wayne, sending him a selfie with you and Eddie, signaling that he arrived safely because Eddie could not grab his phone right now. Wayne sent you a simple ‘take care now, use protection.’ 

That message made you flush all over, knowing that it was something that was going to happen no matter what. Absolutely. Wasn’t it? You wanted it to happen but– What if Eddie didn’t want to? What if he just came here to spend time with you but not to engage in something intimate? Were you looking too much into it? You literally had video sex with each other, so it not happening would be… weird… wouldn’t it?

But maybe… he doesn’t want to after seeing you? Maybe that’s why he didn’t kiss you?

Your self doubt was starting to slowly eat you alive as you reached the car where you parked. He put his carry on inside the trunk and the balloons as well because they would just not let you see on the rearview mirror, plus you might be stopped thanks to them. You bit your lip once you heard the trunk slam shut, Eddie turning your way with a smile on his face. 

“So, ready to take me to your castle, my lady?” You giggled as you nodded, ready to take a step forward in order to be able to tippy toe and signal him you wanted a kiss, but he immediately rushed to the passenger’s side after putting the guitar into the backseat, making you frown slightly. 

You went into the driver’s seat, putting the plushie to sit in the backseat so you could drive while Eddie held his flowers on his lap. He was surprised you had gotten him roses, and he couldn’t stop lavishing over them. As you drove, you put music for each other, and he was babbling away about how the guys wanted to have a call with the two of you together on camera.

“Oh, that’s kinky.” Was your comment and you noticed Eddie nervously chuckling and– Was he nervous? Shit, were you too forward? You didn’t take into account he was as nervous as you. Maybe that’s why he is not making any moves? Not even holding your thigh? 

Fuck, you wanted to jump on him and you had to calm down.

Once you got into your small complex, he was in awe when he entered your apartment. It was big for just one person, and he knew your apartment by now. You had given him a tour but it seems that showing him through video it may have looked a bit smaller than what he had expected. He put the carry on at the entrance as well as the balloons. 

“We should put these in water, I don’t want them to go bad.” He commented, still holding onto the flowers which warmed your heart. You guided him into the kitchen, grabbing a vase and filling it with water, letting him put the flowers in it. Your plushie was left on the dining table so now, your hands were free as well as his. It was already night time, and you just wanted to hold him right now, needing to feel him in your arms again and–

“Did you have dinner yet?” You asked, wanting to cringe at yourself. The air was a little tense, and your self doubt and nervousness was making you feel a little awkward. Maybe it’s not what he expected?

“I didn’t actually, and as far as I remember sweetheart, you told me there was a pizza place here that was fucking delicious.”

“Pete’s. And it will be the best pizza you ever had.” You smiled up at him, swaying a little as you put your hand on the counter. You saw him breathing a bit heavily, nervously, and he cleared his throat.

“I’ll be the judge of that.” He smiled and you realized he was not going to make a move at all. You don’t want to hover over him, or read the signs wrong. Fuck. You were becoming restless, even more when you sent a message to the pizza place so you could order and for them to deliver it to your house. 

Meanwhile, Eddie was walking around your apartment, gushing over all the consoles you had. He knew you had them but it was still amazing to him to see them there. He explained to you how he could only afford the Playstation 2 when he made money out of selling weed at his school. You could only smile through your nerves as you both waited for the pizza, sitting on the couch… rather apart. 

Why was he far away? Did he not want to hold you in the same way you wanted to hold him? It was Valentine’s day and he was sitting on the far end of the couch, and you have waited for months for this moment. Should you really take the initiative here? Were you giving wrong signals? No, you’re pretty sure you aren’t. You have batted your eyelashes, you have brushed your fingers against his when handing him the can of beer, your eyes went to his lips many times and he either was not seeing it or– he was playing dumb.

Dark clouds invaded your mind as you went to the bathroom, messaging Heather immediately.

‘He is not doing anything.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘He hasn’t even tried to kiss me yet, and the pizza is about to arrive, and all we did was talk, which is nice, but we’ve been doing that for five fucking months.’

‘Okay, maybe you should kiss him? Or just talk to him?’

‘What if he doesn’t…?’ You felt like your heart was about to burst as you thought of that possibility. What if you weren’t what Eddie expected in real life? What if it became way too real for him that he was now regretting ever coming to your house? What if he regretted breaking the illusion that he had of just looking at the screen?

‘I’m sure there’s an explanation… talk to him, don’t be a fucking idiot.’

You heard the doorbell ring and you flushed the toilet, pretending you went in there to just do your business. You walked out to see Eddie looking at the intercom with a frown in his face, seeing the pizza guy on the camera.

“How the fuck do I talk to him?” You laughed as you walked towards it, standing next to Eddie, pressing the button to talk.

“Hi Pete, come on up.” 

“Thank you, honey!” The old man said as you pushed the open front gate button. Eddie’s eyebrows raised in awe at it and then he frowned.

“Wait, Pete?”

“Yeah, the owner!” You smiled at him as you walked to your door, standing on your tippy toes to look through the peephole, your hips swaying excitedly as your mouth watered. You felt eyes on you, but maybe you were just making it up in your mind so that the horrible thoughts would go away from you. You saw Pete coming over and you immediately opened the door, a smile on your face.

“Hello lovely.” He greeted you and you grabbed the pizza from his hands, handing him the money and the large tip you always give him. “You know you always give me too much.”

“No, I don’t. Don’t know what you’re talking about.” The man rolled his eyes and then he saw Eddie standing behind you, waving at him. 

“Oh, what a lucky guy you are!” You felt your cheeks burn up as you giggled nervously.

“That I am, Pete!” You heard Eddie say and that just made you feel even more confused than before. The old man smiled, tipping his head down once and gave you both a nod.

“Well, I better leave you two alone. Happy Valentine's!” With that, Pete turned and left, letting you close the door and lock it. He could get out of the gate with a button he could press from the inside, so you didn’t have to bother with that one. The smell of pizza filled your nostrils and you moaned in delight as you walked towards the couch.

“This smells so fucking good.” You sat down, looking back to see Eddie just blinking, staring at nothing. “Eddie?”

“Oh–” He snapped out with a shake of his head, his curls bouncing around. “Yeah, yeah, it does.” 

He rushed to sit next to you, and you turned on the TV to at least put something as background noise. You decided to put ‘The Office’ which Eddie and you had binge watched together, having never seen it before. When you opened the box, you saw that Pete had followed your instructions, a smirk appearing in your face. Eddie’s eyes widened, a laugh escaping his lips.

“Oh my god.” He saw the pizza in the shape of a heart, and you giggled at how amazed he looked staring down at it. “How am I supposed to cut into this masterpiece? There’s absolutely no way.”

“Well, we do have to eat.” And that you both did. You dove in, the voices of the show in the background as he gushed over the pizza, and he had to agree with you that it was in fact the best he’s ever had. He told you that the pizzas back in Hawkins will now taste like cardboard compared to this masterpiece.

“Tell Pete he is a god. Like a literal god because, holy fuck.” You heard him groan in delight as he licked his fingers, wiping his hands with a napkin as he collapsed on the backrest of the couch, his eyes closed as if he were full. He only ate two slices, and Eddie was used to eating at least four. You once saw him eat a full sized pizza, claiming he hadn’t eaten anything since lunch. 

“I’ll tell him.” You didn’t want to sound tense or irritated, but you were so happy to have him here and now you didn’t know if you were being selfish for wanting something more to happen, or if you were sad because nothing was happening at all, or if you were anxious and fearful of the possibility that Eddie did not like you in person, as much as he liked you online. 

You grabbed the remaining pizza with the box, surprised still that there are slices left. You also didn’t eat much thanks to the nerves, something your stomach would yell at you later at night, but for now, you were afraid of puking it all out. You stood up and walked to the kitchen, opening the fridge to place the entire box in there, not wanting to deal with putting it away in tupperwares to save space.

What should you do now? Should you follow Heather’s advice and talk to him? But what if you make everything become a little more tense than what it already was now? You didn’t know what to do, and Eddie was not helping your case at all. You sighed as you washed your hands in the sink, letting the grease be washed away. You dried your hands with the kitchen cloth before walking out, seeing that Eddie was no longer on the couch. 

You frowned, completely confused, until you heard the water of the sink in the bathroom. You grabbed the remote and turned off the TV, walking towards your room, where your whole setup was as well. The bed was completely pressed into a corner, your LED lights in a perfect purple hue, fairy lights in the shape of stars were lit up across the wall, holding pictures of your friends, your family, the boys back in Hawkins and Eddie. There were a lot of Eddie. 

The door of the bathroom opened, and you turned to see Eddie walking towards your room, his eyes widening at the color of the room and then the yellow from the fairy lights, as if it were a purple sky with stars. He walked further in, looking at your entire PC, whistling out loud. You could only stare at his back, dressed in all black, completely contrasting with your room. 

“Damn, look at this… The pictures don’t do it justice.” Your setup was big. You had three monitors, and a very well updated PC. You needed your computer to be able to have a very fast response time because of your work. Video game 3D blending required a lot from your PC so you always kept it up to date. 

“It was an investment when I started my studies, but I gave my mom her money back in the first three months of my job, even if it was three years later.” You explained and he nodded, looking all around your room, for his eyes to then fall on your bed and then the pictures above it, attached to the fairy lights. 

You looked at his profile as he inspected them, and your heart was bursting with need, lava from a volcano just exploding right inside it. You couldn’t hold it in. The guy in your pictures was no longer far away from you. He was no longer miles and miles away, where you could not touch him. He was in your room. He was here with you. He was standing in front of you.

“Didn’t know you hung these up…”

And you exploded.

“Why?” 

His head turned to look at you, a frown appearing in his face as you stared at him. His face softened when he saw how you were looking at him. Your face was showing him distress, confusion, nervousness, and a bunch of questions that were at the tip of your tongue.

“Why what?” He asked, a nervous smile appearing on his lips and– Now you definitely know something was wrong. You could absolutely see it. You stepped forward and you saw how he stiffened in place. You didn’t know what was going on, but at least he didn’t move away from you because you were able to finally step close to him. Your head tipped back so you could properly look up at him.

“Why don’t you do something?” You saw his gulp, how his eyebrow twitched and his smile fell, and you could feel your entire inside crumble apart. Was he going to tell you now that you weren’t what he had expected? That it became way too real for him that he could barely handle it?

“Darling…”

“Am I not– You don’t like me? I– Am I not what you expected?” Your voice was small, and broken, your eyes burning with incoming tears, and his own widened, desperately reaching out for you to hold your biceps tightly, pulling himself closer to you.

“Don’t you ever think that. Not for a single damn second.” His voice was honest, rough with emotion, so now you were confused as he clenched his jaw. “You are way more than I– Than I fucking deserve to have. I have no idea how the fuck I even bagged someone like you.” 

“But– But I don’t understand… You haven’t even tried to kiss me, or hold my hand… You sat so far away from me–” He closed his eyes as he took a deep breath in. You blinked for a few seconds, and… did he lie to you? “Eddie… are you… a virgin?”

“WHAT?” His voice was loud, and it startled you, making you jump in your spot. His eyes pierced your skull almost in a glare, only to then soften as a sigh escaped his lips. “For fucks sake, I am not.” 

“Then I honestly don’t get it now.” You were angry. You started becoming irritable, annoyed, and you wanted answers. He took a deep breath in, leaning down to press his forehead against yours, closing his eyes. His cologne made you calm down instantly, your heart skipping a beat from having him so close to you again. The closest he’s been with you today was the hug you received when seeing each other for the first time.

“I… I won’t be able to hold back.”

You blinked completely confused a few times, looking into his eyes for answers.

“What? What do you mean by that?” He sighed as his hands moved, sending chills down your entire body. They grabbed your waist, giving it a squeeze as he found his voice again.

“I didn’t want you to think I was meeting you right now just to wet my dick… I don’t want you to think that I came to visit you just for that…” 

Now you… you were enraged. 

“Are you a fucking idiot, Edward?” His eyes widened as he pulled his head back to look at your face. It was all tensed up with anger, eyes staring into his with a glare.

“I– Uh… what?”

“You made me fucking doubt myself all day, thinking I wasn’t what you expected! Or that– Or that this was way too fucking real and you became scared and you regretted coming here–” Your eyes started burning once again and you hated yourself for always tearing up when you started an argument. You always felt that stupid lump in your throat, even when you were angry, you got emotional. His eyes were wide, his head shaking from side to side like crazy.

“No, no, no! I’m so sorry I made you feel like that but… it wasn’t. No… It’s– The complete opposite of that.” The room started losing that tensed up air that was filled with anger and misunderstandings, your eyes now softening as you looked at him. His face looked flushed, his eyes were now a bit dilated, looking down at you with a different gaze, one you saw many times on video call when you changed in front of him.

“Then?”

“If I kiss you… I won’t be able to hold back… That’s why I haven’t done it all day. I would have, probably, broken a million laws.” You bit your lip as you looked up at him, your body rising in temperature the more you stared up at him and he looked down at you with that hunger in his eyes you knew too well.

“Eddie… I waited for this for months… I want it too…” Your arms went up to wrap around his shoulders, nerves turning your stomach inside out but they were good nerves. They were amazing nerves. His breath hitched only to then quicken, his hands squeezing your waist once again. “And I don’t want you to hold back.”

That seemed to be his green light. What seemed to be the last string holding him to rationality, and it was literally snapped by you. His lips immediately clashed into yours, sparks flying all around you as electricity ran all over your body. Goosebumps formed on your skin and you sighed happily into the kiss. It was soft, deep, but still not moving. 

He groaned into it and slowly pulled away with a smack, his breath hitting your lips, his eyes still closed. You felt his hands moving, wrapping himself around you, pulling you even closer. He pressed your body against his and you wanted to already moan with how warm he felt. You felt his lips peck yours again, and then pull away.

“Oh, fuck…” Then another peck, your bodies moving. “Fuck, sweetheart–” You didn’t know why he was cursing, yet he gave another peck, a longer one. “I’m done for.” And then one more kiss, “I’m so fucking done for.”

You finally felt your bed hit the back of your knees as his lips started moving against yours in a desperate manner. Nobody had ever kissed you like this. You’ve never felt as desired as you’re feeling right now. His hand went downwards to grab the back of your right thigh and pull it up, pressing it against his hip. His left knee then hit the bed, his other hand grabbing your other leg, and helping you up on the bed as he crawled into the middle of it with you. 

Your lips never separated, not for a single moment. You were chained to him, not wanting to let go at any second, feeling like it’s a lost one if you did. Your back was pressed into the mattress, as your head clashed against your pillow. You could barely breathe as his hands left your legs after he slotted himself right in between them. 

Your choice of clothes was now a pain to you. You should have put on something easier to take off, but you had chosen fucking pants. It was cold out, but it would have made this moment easier. His elbows came to rest against the mattress, one on each side of your head. 

His hips still did not press against yours and you were becoming a little needy, desperate. So, you raised your hips upwards and rubbed yourself on him, making him wince against the kiss, pulling away to look down in between your bodies. You felt the bulge, the big bulge you’ve always looked at and desired to have in your hands, in your mouth and inside. He groaned as his eyes turned to yours again. 

No words were exchanged as your hips were suddenly slammed into the bed again, a moan escaping your lips. He thrusted himself into you, giving you the wish of rubbing his hips against you. You sighed as your hands rubbed the back of his head, making you feel a little dizzy already. His lips immediately clashed with yours again, and you felt his hands all over you, just exploring all over your waist, hips, arms as his hips rubbed and rubbed and rubbed.

You moaned into the kiss, your body shivering when you felt the tip of his tongue entering your mouth, not even asking for permission and it wasn’t like he needed it. He didn’t. He could do whatever he wanted to you tonight. You were going to do whatever you wanted too. You both knew your likes and dislikes, what is okay and what is not. There was no need for questions or permissions.

He groaned into the kiss as you felt him twitch in his pants and against you. You clenched around nothing at all, and you wondered if you could cum by just him rubbing himself against you, because it felt like it. Your belly was burning. You were hoping you would not be able to walk after tonight, or after this entire week. 

Your breathing turned heavy, your hands grabbing at his denim jacket, pulling onto it by the shoulders, and he got the message. He pulled away for a second, ripping the jacket away from himself, only to desperately drop himself back on you, kissing you hungrily once more. The clothes felt constricting now and the heat all over your body was making it feel worse. His tongue was just abusing yours in the most delicious of ways. 

Eddie knew how to kiss. 

Eddie kept his movements on you, up and down, circling and then some dry humping against you that was making you see stars behind your eyelids. He was driving you insane, and your thong, the red lace set you wore today, a set you bought a few days ago with this exact intention, was becoming a wet sticky mess because of this.

You wondered if you were soaking through your pants now, maybe getting the front of his wet and damp too. He was rubbing against your clit in meditated rolls, hearing where you moaned the loudest. He was paying attention to every single detail and reaction he got from you, now learning your body in person and not through a screen. It was like the practical part of an exam, the oral part having passed flawlessly.

Your hips moved with his as his right hand landed on your breast, making your back arch against him with need. You whined into the kiss, and he pulled away from you, a gasp being let out by you. You were so sensitive. The emotions were making your entire body react to the simplest of his touches. 

“You are so fucking perfect.” Your mouth dropped open when his lips connected to the pulse point of your neck. His hand was still kneading your breast over your hoodie, those you loved to wear. Oversized and comfy, but right now, it was something you wanted to rip off of you as if it were burning your fucking skin.

“Eddie… Baby, I need to take it off–” He nodded desperately against you, but before leaving your neck, he gave a soft nibble with his teeth, making you whimper. He kneeled as you sat up, and before you could grab the hem of your hoodie, his hands were almost ripping it off from your body. He pulled it off of you in an instant, leaving you in just your tank top. You saw him lick his lips, and you wanted more, you needed more. Your hands instantly went to the hem of his shirt and he helped you, gladly, to take it off.

Your mouth watered as you saw the chest you’ve only been seeing through a screen for months, finally being able to touch it, kiss it and– Your tongue darted out, licking his chest in an upwards motion, your eyes closed. He threw his head back, shoving the shirt to the abyss, he didn’t care. Your hands scanned his sides, fingertips gliding against the skin, feeling him tense up and his chest hitch when your lips gave a kiss to it. 

He growled, cradling your cheeks in his hands, making you look up at him in a quick and rough motion you didn’t dislike, but it made you stop your kisses and kitten licks against his chest, over his tattoos. His lips crashed against yours again, deep and desperate only to then be pushed back down on the bed. He was towering over you, chest moving up and down rapidly, his eyes looking down at the button of your jeans. You gulped as you moved your hips to signal him he could move.

So he did. His hands instantly rushed to rip the button open and pull the fly down. Your nerves started coming back as he crawled backwards and he started tugging at your jeans, pulling them down and off your body desperately. Off they went, including your socks and then you felt your legs wanting to close but– You had prepared yourself for this. You should let him look, so you kept them spread. Once his eyes turned to look at you again, they were instantly glued to the red lace covering the wet heaven he had wanted to touch and taste for so long.

“Oh, and it’s all for me, isn’t it sweetheart?” His voice was deep, rough and sultry and it was as if he wasn’t really asking you, but more like he was reassuring himself in fact like he said. And it was.

“Mhm~ All of it, Eds…” Your voice small, pretending shyness, that shyness that drove him insane. You heard a growl coming from him, his clouded eyes still staring down at your moving hips, waiting for him to do something. You clenched around nothing when he roughly grabbed the back of your knees and pulled them apart even more, and away.

“Let me taste this pussy that’s been driving me crazy for fucking months.” Your breathing hitched at the possessiveness he was talking with. His hands moved and his arms hugged your thighs as his body lowered, his stomach pressing against the mattress as his face came to stare at your throbbing slit, and he could see how wet the lace was. How drenched and dark the fabric had gotten. 

You couldn’t even process his words that your mouth was falling in a silent ‘o’, his mouth latching on the thong like a leech. Sucking and licking on it and if it felt good like this, how would you feel when he uncovers it? Your hands gripped the sheets beneath you as he kept licking pointedly into where your slit was, digging the fabric into it a bit.

Then he rode the tongue upwards, the pointy licks now against your clit, making you moan, letting the breath out of your lungs. Your body started feeling the heat travelling all over, and you should have touched yourself or something before he came over because you’re pretty sure you’re going to cum any second. 

He pulled away, his fingers grabbing onto the elastic of your thong, and he kneeled up to pull them down your legs. You helped him do just that and he smirked when he saw the little string of your wetness disconnecting from your center. That’s how wet you were. His jaw clenched when he finally got the thong off, but this one, he made sure to see where it landed, planning on taking it back with him. Probably frame it.

Your legs now did close while his head was turned, your knees together and leaning your way. You felt a little more exposed now, you couldn’t help it. It’s been a while since you had sex in general, this would happen no matter what. The shyness, the embarrassment. But when Eddie turned his head back around, he shook his head, glaring down at you.

“I’m having none of that.” His hands roughly grabbed onto your knees and he spread them apart, your center opening up for him, and you just flushed all over, feeling embarrassed but more aroused than ever. He was a starved man, no, animal. He was staring down at it as if it were the answer to all of his prayers. His body moved downwards, in the same position he was before, but this time, his hands gripped your inner thighs, keeping your legs spread. 

He was going to make sure to taste you completely.

His tongue darted out, finally pressing it against you, making you jerk upwards, completely taken aback by how good it felt and it was a simple press of the tongue. You were done for tonight. He hummed and moaned as he tasted you, and then–

“Fuck– Oh– Fuck!” Your voice was loud, your breathing loud as in one single moment Eddie was just looking at you after tasting you, and the next his mouth and tongue were everywhere. He sucked on your clit, kissed it, the tip of his tongue doing stripes in your center, up and down, teasing you about entering it. 

He was all over you, his fingers digging into your flesh, not caring if he leaves a mark, and if he does, good. Your head was thrown back into the pillow as he flicked his tongue back and forth on your clit, your hands flying to grab onto his head. He was still moaning, hips rutting into the mattress just by eating you out. You were absolutely delicious and he probably won’t get enough of you at all. 

“Better than what I imagined. So fucking sweet.” He hummed into you, and you felt your body start trembling, the pleasure making up a fog in your mind you hadn’t felt in so long. Suddenly, your eyes widened, feeling his tongue going inside, his nose hitting your clit as he made nodding moves with his head and his tongue moved around inside of you.

“Eddie– Eddie, baby, oh my god–” Your breathing was heavy, moaning his name out as if it were a god, and to you, he was one right now. Your belly clenched and burned and you could feel your climax creeping in by the minute. Eddie was happy to keep ravishing you, to keep tasting you, to keep making you fall apart. 

You felt one of his hands leave your inner thigh as well as his mouth, letting the air hit you and then a sharp breath, making your wetness become cold, a whimper ripping out of your throat. He chuckled as he saw your hips jerk from the air he blew, and then you tensed up when you felt his finger running through your slit to coat it with your juices. And then he entered. You wished he hadn’t taken his rings off to eat that pizza. You wanted those inside of you, he wanted them inside of you. He had told you as such.

His mouth bit the inside of your inner thigh as he kept moving his middle finger inside of you, feeling your warmth around him. Your back arched as he bit, and a moan ripped away from your throat. Your hands now gripped the pillow under your head, right by the edges. He started pumping his finger, in and out of you, and you were in bliss as you moaned his name in order to ground yourself in the moment.

So many fantasies in your head, of him touching you, of him moving on you, of his fingers entering you and making you see galaxies. You could only guess Eddie would be good with his fingers just by the fact that he played guitar. And, he was probing that fact right now and with just a single finger. 

He sucked on your skin as his eyes kept looking at how his finger glistened whenever it was pulled out of you. His hips kept rubbing against your mattress, the creaking of it ringing in his ears just by you moving your hips against his hand. He growled as he got his ring finger inside as well, and he finally curled his fingers inside of you. Your eyes widened, your head thrown back as you felt him inspect you, looking for something, rubbing and circling and wiggling and–

“OH–” Your hips jerked upwards at one particular movement. He quickly pressed his free hand on your hip, pushing you down to keep you in place, a smirk spreading on his lips.

“Found you.” Your body was combusting into itself as he kept abusing that part inside of you that no one ever bothered to find. No one ever bothered to look for it and you were feeling your body about to snap the more he rubbed his fingers against it. You were sure you were going to cum soon as you felt your belly start to turn, clench inside of you, and your walls fluttered around his fingers. There’s nothing that could make this better–

Except his tongue latching onto your clit as his fingers never stopped moving. You’ve never felt like this. Your hips were moving by themselves against him, needing more, and your moans were so loud that you were glad you had rented out a very thick walled apartment complex. You were probably heard anyways, but you honestly could care less right now.

He was sucking and biting on you and your body thrashed around as you kept your mouth open. Heavy breaths and moans escaping you without any restraint, not being able to feel anything else but the pleasure your boyfriend was giving you. Then, the stars slowly started to appear as your walls clenched and unclenched in warning. 

“Ed– Eddie– I’m gonna–”

“Yes, fuck yes, cum for me. I’ve been waiting for it, cum for me.” And that was all the green light you needed as you back arched off your bed, your head turning to the side as your eyes clenched tightly, holding the pillow in a death grip and making it cover your mouth to try to stifle your sounds a little bit more. You clenched all around him, your orgasm crashing on you like a trainwreck, your belly just contorting into itself as you felt him quicken his movements, riding your orgasm out.

You were gasping as your body remained tensed up, the loud squelching of his movements becoming louder thanks to how wet you became as you came and you came and you came because it felt never ending. You didn’t even notice his mouth was no longer on you, his upper body hovering over you as his right hand kept moving inside of you as he held himself up with the other one against the mattress, right next to your head.

He was looking at your contorted face. A face he’s seen multiple times on camera, on pictures you especially took for him. You started to unclench as your body slowly relaxed, twitched every other second thanks to the aftershocks of your orgasm. It was the best and biggest one you ever had. You felt him stop his movements, slowly, until then he pulled out, making you sigh.

Your eyes opened, blinking a few times to center yourself and then you turned your head to see him looking down at you. You realized he had stared at you during your climax and you felt a little embarrassed but you couldn’t even speak that you saw the fingers that were inside of you come into your vision, your breath heavy as you stared at all the juices that were on them. His eyes went towards them, the wetness moving down his palm, towards his wrist. 

His tongue darted out to lick it away, from his wrist to his fingers before putting them into his mouth to taste you again. He moaned into them, closing his eyes, and your own were wide at how filthy everything was, yet so deliciously amazing. He got his fingers out of his lips with a pop and then he looked down at you once again after opening his eyes once more, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

“Delicious. You’re so fucking perfect… So perfect.” You whined at his praise, your hands reaching out, arms wrapping around his shoulders as he leaned back down, kissing you desperately. You tasted yourself in his mouth, on his tongue, and it was all a little intoxicating. But, even if your body twitched, trembled, you needed more. You were not satisfied. Your thighs closed on his hips as he pressed himself against you again.

You wanted him so much, so much that it was a little bit frightening to you. Now, it was your turn to become an animal. You used your strength to signal him you wanted to turn him. He followed your directions, letting himself fall and roll you two in a different position. You were now straddling him, chest against his as you kissed him desperately. He chased after you when you pulled away and sat back onto him. Your eyes were darkened, pupils fully dilated as your hips moved against his bulge and he hissed, his head rolling against your pillow. 

“You like that, baby?” You asked sweetly, and he groaned, nodding desperately. You bit your lip as you grabbed onto the hem of your tanktop and you ripped it off your body in just one second. His eyes were now glued to the matching red bra you had on. 

“Oh fuck… Please tell me you took a picture of yourself in this…” He asked, making you smirk and you had in fact taken one… or more. And maybe a video.

“If you behave, I’ll think about sending those to you.” He bit his bottom lips as his hips jerked upwards and you knew you were staining his jeans, but he didn’t care, nor did you. Not when you were about to take them off. You moved backwards, your eyes falling to his belt. Your hands undid it as quickly as they could. You were breathing rather heavily still, and if you had your tongue out, you bet you would be drooling with anticipation, knowing what was under these pants and boxers. 

Once the button and zipper were undone as well, it was your turn to take the pants off, but you added his boxers in the mix, killing two birds with one stone. Your patience was wearing thin right now, and you couldn’t handle wasting any more time with him. He helped you rip the rest of his clothes off, throwing his pants and boxers off and you almost fell back from how desperate you were. 

You heard the thud of his clothes on the floor and then your eyes finally saw it. Oh, pictures and videos did it no justice. Your mouth watered as your eyes looked at every detail, the veins, the tip, the length, the girth… the tattoo. The fucking tattoo on the underside of his cock. Fuck. You were sure you’re getting wetter again just by looking at him. You didn’t notice how Eddie’s eyes were looking at you as he held himself up on his elbows. 

He saw the lust filled look in your eyes, and he could swear he saw your pupils turn into literal hearts as you sighed happily, your hands rubbing on his thighs as you slowly leaned down. His breathing hitched, a broken breath being taken in. Your eyes didn’t leave it for a single second. You were fascinated. You kept your ass up as your upper body lowered more and more. Your nails dragged across his belly when you finally reached the height you needed to have him right in front of your eyes.

Your tongue licked your lips to moisten them, getting them ready to finally taste what you’ve been craving for so long. You gave his tip a tentative kiss, making it twitch instantly. He wanted to throw his head back but he needed to watch you. He needed to engrave this to memory. He is sparing this time because it’s your first time with each other… but he will throw it on the table the next day.

He wants to record you just like this, and much more.

Your tongue lolled out now, your hand coming to grip it to keep it steady as you passed your tongue along the shaft, towards the tip. You heard Eddie groan loudly, wanting to jerk his hips upwards in you, but holding himself back from doing so, letting you have your own moment. Your lips finally closed on his tip, and his body shivered underneath you. 

You closed your eyes as you moaned with delight, just sucking the tip of his length to then pop it out. You suddenly spat on it, so you could lube it up in order for your hand to help you in those places you couldn’t reach with your mouth.

“Fucking christ…” You heard him curse with a hiss and you wanted to laugh cockily at him, but you didn’t want to ruin the moment. You finally guided him into your mouth, your movements slow, tongue swirling around him as you went. Maybe it was your imagination going a little wild, but somehow he tasted so good, and you blamed the tattoo for it, as if it were an exotic spice.

He gulped with a sigh, his elbows slowly starting to give up on him the more you moved your head. Your movements quickened, the noise of slurping being added into the mix and you could feel him falling onto the bed with a thud. His hands came to lay on the sheets, gripping onto them so he wouldn’t grab your head, not wanting to force you. His eyes rolled to the back of his head and you finally heard him moan your name. Sigh it out. 

That was one of the most beautiful sounds you’ve ever heard. You had heard him before, but it was different in real life. It was his voice. In real time. No interference or internet filter to cover it or mess with his vocal chords. It prompted you to move quicker, play with your tongue against his frenulum, making him whimper and jerk his hips into your mouth, making him gasp when you gagged slightly.

“Shit– Are you okay–?” His head looked down, worry shining through the lust, only to find you smiling as you looked at his cock, before going back in. He chuckled in amazement and it was his go to grab your head with his right hand, just letting it sit there as you did your own pace and movements. 

You liked it. You liked the roughness, you had told him you didn’t mind soft and sweet, but you preferred rough and desperate. He is surely giving you that tonight. Your mouth was quick on him, and you could taste some precum in your tongue as you did so. You moaned into it, sending vibrations that made him moan and shiver underneath you.

“Mmmh–” You popped him out of your mouth to then lick his entire length and he sighed your name until he felt the tip of your tongue running on him, and suddenly he chuckled in awe once more.

“Sweetheart, you’re fucking tracing my tattoo with your tongue?” You were in a trance as you kept doing it, giving a dumb little nod. “Shit, that’s so fucking hot–”

“Been wanting to do this for so long… Wanted to trace it–” His resolve broke that second, wondering how many times had you imagined this and dreamed of it. His fingers snaked in your hair, deep, and then he gripped your scalp, making you whimper. The pain was nothing, it only added to the pleasure and it made you tremble as he was on his elbow, looking down at you.

“Think you can be a good girl for me and take me all?” You nodded desperately, looking at him with those eyes he fell for. Puppy eyes. He guided you towards the tip and you opened your mouth instantly, letting him go back into your warmth. Your hands stayed on his thighs, and his free hand gripped the sheets tightly, guiding you further and further and then– he controlled your movements.

He made you bob your head on him, up and down, setting the rhythm himself and you didn’t mind him. You clenched around nothing when you started feeling him hit the back of your throat. You relaxed, knowing what was going to come next and then you breathed through your nose. Once he heard you take a deep intake of breath, he pushed you down, slowly, but roughly.

Your eyes teared up as you finally felt him down your throat. Your nose was deep into his hairs, something he trimmed but kept because you told him you liked it. You breathed through your nose as you focused on not gagging. You moaned into it knowing it would send vibrations to him, causing him to moan your name, feeling his hips move underneath you with need.

But you could hold on for so long, your body slightly jerking as your throat closed on him. The gag making Eddie pull you back up and get himself out of your mouth. He looked at your fucked out face as tears ran down your cheeks, and drool was slipping out the corner of your mouth. Seeing it live was making him feel a little dizzy, and your clouded eyes were not being any help.

You couldn’t wait anymore, your body climbing up on him as he let go of your hair, his hand falling to your hip as your dripping cunt rubbed against his length, right over the tattoo. He sighed, his eyes closing for a second as he enjoyed the friction, the warmth of you. Your hands went to your back, unhooking the bra open. At the sound, Eddie’s eyes found you, taking the straps down your arms, and your last piece of clothing was long gone. 

“Oh, fuck sweetheart–”

“Eddie, can I? Please–” Your voice was desperate, whiny, and your hips kept moving back and forth on him, whimpering each time your clit rubbed against his shaft. His eyes were focused on your breasts, his fingertips digging into your skin, and then he nodded quickly, giving you the go.

You smiled, delighted. Your hips raised up enough for you to get your hand in between the two of you. Your hand grabbed onto his cock, guiding him to your entrance, which was so ready to receive him. You two had gotten tested, knowing what was going to transpire the moment you met, and you were so glad you were on birth control to regulate your cycle. This way, you can feel him completely. Raw. You started sinking down, your mouth falling open as his tip started to stretch you, then the rest and, fuck–

“Holy fuck, holy shit–” He was cursing as he looked between your bodies, seeing himself disappear inside of you as your face was still in a contorted state of pleasure. Your voice was gone as you kept sinking down, and you couldn’t wait how it felt to have him bottom out inside of you. You already felt full, and you barely went halfway down on him. It wasn’t even painful, thanks to his prep, to your orgasm, the one he caused.

Finally, you slammed down on him, a loud slap bursting in your ears at your skin hitting his. He choked on a moan at bottoming out inside of you while you trembled in ecstasy, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as your nails scratched on his chest for support. Your breathing was heavy, and Eddie could finally refocus on you once more. You were adjusting to him, your head moving back to look down at him, your mouth still letting out breaths that drove him insane. 

He was about to talk, only for you to start moving, lifting yourself up to then slam back down, a moan finally escaping your lips as a groan left his. His hands were gripping your waist as if his life depended on it. He felt so good inside of you, just like you always knew he would feel like. He fit perfectly, and you certainly have no idea how you will survive when you don’t have him anymore with you.

Your hips kept moving, going up and down, your tempo rising, the slamming of your hips against his turning louder as he hit deeper. Your moans filled the room, the strain on your legs nonexistent as the pleasure overtook you. The air grew thick thanks to your breath and his, the purple hue making him look ethereal underneath you, his eyes half-lidded as he sighed out in each slam.

It was desperate, it was dirty, the squelching of your pussy against his pelvis, knowing your juices were making a mess out of it. You waited far too long for this and you were going to enjoy every single second of it. His hands moved to get a hold of your breasts as you bounced on him, as you rode the soul out of him. 

“Look at you sweetheart– Fucking look at you…” You whined at his words, your eyes closed as he hit you in that sweet spot you adored, your nippled getting in between his fingers for him to pinch and roll. Whimpers and moans leaving your lips at each shock of pleasure, and each time you came down, your clit would brush against his pubes. 

“Eds– You feel so good, so damn good–” He grinned at your praise, a thin sheer layer of sweat appearing all over his body as he played with you however he wanted. Suddenly you slammed your hips against him, changing your movements to go back and forth, a gasp leaving your throat and your nails digging into his chest.

“You feel good, baby?” He asked smugly, containing his moans in as he saw you lean back, his hands falling to your middle, while your hands gripped his knees. Your clit kept brushing against him as his cock inside you kept slapping your g-spot. Your movements were fast, hips just swaying like a dance and your mouth remained open in the entirety of it. You nodded dumbly, your head falling backwards as you stared at your ceiling, feeling your eyes burn in pleasure.

“Uh huh, uh huh–” You couldn’t even form words as your belly coiled, twisted on its own. His eyes fell closed, head thrown back into the pillow as you just used him to your liking. Your movements slowed and your head went back to looking at him, your hips changing rhythm as you swayed them in circles and you raised them just a little, moving back down slowly on him. A huff left him as he noticed the change, his eyes opening again to stare at your form.

You were possessed. You didn’t even recognize yourself, never once thinking you would act this way when meeting him. You knew you would be needy, but never this. Never this animalistic. The creaking of your bed was loud, now noticing it just as you noticed your legs growing tired, the trembling evident, but you didn’t want to stop this feeling. Eddie noticed of course, sitting up so he could embrace you, his mouth immediately latching onto your right nipple. 

Your arms immediately enclosed around his frame, hands digging into his hair as he rolled your sensitive nipple between his teeth, to then tug at it. You gasped between your moans as he let go of it, and then you let a breath out when he laid back on the bed, pulling you with him, your chest now against him. He chuckled with a breath, planting his feet on the bed, raising his hips upwards.

“My turn, isn’t it?” And the world became non-existent when his hips started slamming up into you, the slapping of skin loud enough for the people living at the very corner of the street to hear, your moans loud enough for the moon to listen to. 

His movements were rough, quick, his hands gripping your body to keep you in place and for him to have leverage. His breaths were quick, a curse and your name escaping him here and there, your headboard hitting your wall, and you were certain you would have a noise complaint in the early morning, but that was a problem for the two of you in the future.

“Fuckfuckfuckfuck!” You whined as his balls also slapped against you, and you knew tears were falling from your eyes as he kept thrusting, rutting into you. He grunted into your ear, his teeth nipping at your earlobe, which only made you whimper against him. Suddenly he slammed his hips into you, slow and deep, to then repeat the action, and then again.

He growled in each one, and then his hips stopped moving, still inside you, hips attached. You were both panting messes, drool dripping from your mouth from keeping it open all this while, falling onto the pillow and right beside his head. He lowered his hips, making you follow immediately, hitting the mattress once again. 

“You alright, darling?” He asked breathlessly and you smiled, nodding against him, which only elicited a smug grin on his lips. “Good, because I’m nowhere done with you.”

Your world was flipped, him having turned you both, his body on top of you once again, and his lips crashed into yours. Immediate tongues and teeth clashing, your moans into his throat and his in yours. He groaned as he slowly started moving his hips into yours once again, the fire having never left you, nor did for him. His mouth was still in your ear as he kept talking to you, softly, in a rough whisper–

“You want to know what I had to do before getting off the plane?” His words were barely processing in your head, but you still understood him as his ministrations inside of you never stopped. You shook your head, but he was not having it. “Talk.”

“W-What?” You asked and he tutted, relishing in having turned you into a cockdrunk mess.

“What…?” 

“What– Fuck, what did you do?” He hummed in approval, his breath hot in your ear, and if you thought this man couldn’t turn you on more than he was already, even when fucking you senseless, you were wrong.

“I had to jack off in the plane’s bathroom before landing.” You gasped as his hips rutted deep inside you, grunting into your ear before he continued. “I wouldn’t have lasted if I didn’t.”

You felt your belly burning, a moan escaping your lips with his name etched in it like a prayer. He chuckled through a huff, his movements still slow and meditated, his lips finding your neck once more, sucking on your skin to leave his mark. He was sure to mark you all up before he left, from head to toe, for everyone in your state to know you belonged to someone, that you belonged to him.

He will trace and retrace, leave your skin in red and purple markings. First mark? A necklace for your neck. So he continued moving, sucking onto your skin and biting onto it as he went from one side to another as you became a mess under him. Your nails were scratching the back of his neck, his back, reciprocating the marking in your own way. He could feel it, and he was going to proudly show it off before they fade away, going to make sure to prepare a gig so he could rip his shirt off in front of everyone so they could see.

His lips left your skin, his hands planting on the mattress on each side of your head to push himself up to admire his work. Your eyes were half lidded, completely blown out as your breaths left your pretty lips. A perfect necklace of hickies around your neck that looked way too good on you, a grin appearing on his lips. 

“Perfect… Fucking perfect.” With those words, your arms fell to the sides as he slowly kneeled up, his hands running all over your body, creating goosebumps on your skin despite how hot you felt. He then gripped your waist, tightly, and you saw how his smile fell, his chest moving up and down in heavy breaths and then–

He started railing into you like a madman. More creaks. More slapping of skin. More squelching. More cries of pleasure leaving you as he abused your insides in the most delicious and addicting of ways. Your hands coming to grip the pillow underneath your head once again, your legs spread as you saw them bounce back and forth as he moaned over you.

“Uh– Ed– Eds!” He loved to hear his name coming out of your mouth like this. He can’t wait to record you, stash this in his secured folder in his phone for his use when he returns to Hawkins. His fringe was surely sticking to his forehead from the force of his movements, but he couldn’t stop. He wasn’t going to stop, not when you were a blabbering fucking mess.

You saw his contorted face, the pleasure just written all over it, the desperation. Your whole entire self was putty, letting him use you, letting him take whatever he wanted from you and you were enjoying it. You were loving it. You were loving him. You gasped when you started feeling that pressure in your belly grow, the climax building inside of you and Eddie could feel it the second your walls fluttered around him.

“Where is it?” He breathlessly asked and you didn’t even know if he said something until his movements stopped and a hand grabbed your cheeks, puckering your lips to catch your attention. His face was suddenly inches from yours. “I asked, where is it, darling.”

“Wha–?” You were so confused, your hips swaying so he would keep moving but his hips were grounded against you as he shook his head at you, his grip tightening around your face.

“Where’s the vibrator?” That little pink thing he saw you use millions of times, and you were trying to process his words in your head, your hand moving shakily towards your night table. He let go of your face so he could reach over, almost ripping the drawer open and he instantly saw it. He grabbed it, your eyes following his movements as they slowly widened, knowing what he was going to do. He smirked your way, licking his bottom lip as his finger pressed on the ‘on’ button, the little but powerful bullet vibrator coming to life.

“Eddie…” You called to him as he kneeled up, sitting back on his calves, his left hand still gripping your waist tightly as his right one held your vibrator, his eyes stuck on it. 

“Intense little fucker, no wonder it’s your favorite to use, baby.” He gave it a kiss, sending a tremble all over your body, “Arch your back.”

You followed his instructions, and even if tired, you planted your feet on the bed, arching your back upwards. His hips started moving again, your hands gripping the pillow tightly once more as you whined, your mouth closed this time. The headboard started to slowly bang against the wall once more the more he picked up speed and your mind was gone. 

It felt even deeper than before, more intense, and the position was making your spongy spot be hit perfectly in each thrust. He huffed in each one, trying to control his breathing as you moaned loud ‘ah ah ah’s’, and then, a cry was ripped from you when the vibrator was placed on your clit, your eyes widening at the sensation. 

“You’re such a dream, so perfect for me, made for me–” He grunted as your body trembled underneath him, your orgasm now building at a quick and desperate pace. You would be surprised if you weren’t screaming his name. 

“So good! Fuck– It’s so fucking good! Keep– Keep going, pleasepleaseplease–” You were begging, as if he were to even think of stopping. He felt you fluttering and clenching all around him, making him growl and grunt, your name slipping from his lips. He could feel his own climax reaching close now, but he was going to feel you one more time. He rolled the vibrator around your clit, flicking it against you as the hand on your waist helped you keep yourself arched against him.

“Yeah baby, scream my fucking name, come on–” He was touching heaven right now, the more you talked, the more you cried out, the more you clenched around him. Drool out of your mouth, tears out of your eyes, that fucking necklace he put around your neck. It will go so well with his pick necklace.

“Eddie– Eddie– Eddie, please!” You kept begging and begging the more you felt yourself tipping over the edge. The creaking of your bed and the banging of the headboard falling to deaf ears, only your moans and his, the vibrator and the slapping of skin the only sounds heard between these four walls.

“I know, baby, I know. Let go, come on, you can do it for me– Be a good girl, come on–” The praise was what sent you off, your face turning just like it did last time to muffle your moan, your cry, your yelp, as your body arched into him, your walls clenching around his cock, tighter than they did the first time. It prompted him to stop his movements, a loud grunt being heard from him as you saw stars behind your eyelids.

He could only rut his hips into you to help you ride your orgasm, keeping the vibrator to your clit, making your body convulse in ecstasy. He could feel his own body tensing up, the tightness making it impossible for him to hold himself back. He felt you slowly unclench around him, your body twitching against him. Once he knew he could move again, your insides now so smooth to glide into, his need for release made him go feral.

Your vibrator was thrown to the side, and he was panting as he leaned over you, letting your back touch the mattress once again. His hands gripped the top of your headboard as your body was folded, your hips now lifting from your mattress one more time, your body already sore, but he had to cum. He needed to cum. You needed to feel him inside of you, because you would let him mark you inside and out.

His hips slammed against you, jerking you upwards, a yelp coming out of your lips from overstimulation. He grunted in each thrust, your breath knocked out of your lungs as he did it slowly, yet rough. Slam. Slam. Slam.

“I’m– I’m gonna cum– I’m going to fill you up so good, jesus fucking christ–” And all it took was one last slam before he let himself sit inside of you, his eyes clenching tightly as he came, a moan escaping your lips as you felt him and then–

CRACK.

His hands slid from the headboard as you both suddenly dropped, a gasp escaping you. A choked breath left your lips the moment you two bounced, his body almost falling over you if it weren’t for his elbows that planted on each side of your head, your hips falling back down. Your heart was beating out of your throat, your lungs compressed from the scare and adrenaline.

What had just happened? You shivered when Eddie shuddered, a last spurt being shot inside of you. You were both panting, his face coming to meet yours after he looked around at what had happened.

“Sweetheart, did– did we just break your bed?” And you realised your mattress was now on top of broken boards, hinges, and your headboard was a little wobbly, holding onto the side rails that enclosed your mattress. You blinked a few times as your arms held onto Eddie, and then–

You laughed through your exhaustion, through the adrenaline, through the remainder of your climaxes, and he followed right behind you. Breathless laughs, gulping from the sudden realization of how dry your throats were, but the giggles never stopped. Your mind was now clearer thanks to the scare, thanks to how incredible it was that you two had managed to break your slats, despite the seller telling you they were very strong and sturdy.

“We… We did…” You replied through heavy breaths, huffs of laughter escaping you through them and he chuckled on top of you, his bun now a mess, to the point it was almost coming off. 

“I’ll get you a new one… holy fuck…” You shook your head with a smile as you held his face, guiding him into a soft kiss this time, your heart bursting with giddiness. 

“No, it’s okay…” He smiled down at you, all teeth, and pecked your lips once again, his breath hitting your face, strong exhales coming from his nose. He pulled away, and his eyes were just wide with amusement as you smiled up at him.

“Oof.” He sighed to then smile down at you. “Well, that was the biggest workout I had in a while.” You giggled, giving him a nod in understanding, your chest still heaving as you caught your breath.

“I can agree with you on that one…” You reached up to put a strand of hair behind his ear, a content smile on your face, not being able to hide your happiness despite your body aching all over. He huffed one more time, kissing the tip of your nose before he started to slowly pull out of you. You both groaned at the feeling, realizing how sensitive the two of you were. He sighed one more time, his eyes falling onto your center. They widened as he pulled himself up, almost falling over from how wobbly his legs were, making you laugh in confusion as you pulled yourself up with a whimper, but he stopped you.

“Stay there! Do not move.” He stepped over the side rails, once again, almost falling over. He grabbed his phone from the pocket of his jacket, and you could see his tongue poking out of his lips as he came back to you, his camera pointing directly at your pussy. Your eyes were wide with embarrassment, wanting to close your legs on him. “Nuh uh, no.”

“What are you doing!?”

“I am not missing the opportunity to take a picture out of this!” He smiled with victory as he snapped the photo and then looked at it. “Best Valentine's ever!” 

He then showed it to you and you gasped as you saw his cum dripping out of you, and you immediately sat up properly, to then get up to clench your legs together, making him laugh.

“Not funny! It’s running down!” 

The following events were funny, domestic even. You two went to the bathroom as Eddie apologized, lying of course, while you sat on the toilet waiting for every single drop of him to fall down into it. You both then washed yourselves with a wet washcloth each because you were too tired to take a shower. A slap being given at Eddie for the hickies, the extremely unhideable hickies, he left on your neck. A brush of teeth and deciding to just go to bed naked, Eddie’s suggestion with a wiggle of eyebrows.

“Easier access for when we wake up tomorrow.” You had smacked him on top of the head and while you got some water bottles from the kitchen, he had pulled the broken slats from underneath the mattress.

After finally hydrating yourselves again, and maybe eating another slice of pizza, even though you brushed your teeth minutes ago, you were finally laying on his chest as a new comforter covered both of you because the other one had to be desperately washed now�� maybe even burned.

You sighed in contentment as you traced figures on his chest, your heart beating rapidly as he kept his arm around you, the other one on the back of his head, smiling at your ceiling. The purple hue in your room thanks to the led lights making it a calm atmosphere for the two of you now, instead of horny animals.

Your mouth opened and closed as you debated your next words. Should you? Would he run off? Would he get scared? Was it too soon? Maybe it was, but you needed to get the words out of your system before you exploded with them. The actions that had just transpired made your feelings just burst and grow tenfold than what they already were.

But he deserved it. He deserved every single word.

“Eds…”

“Mmm?” He was still smiling, his breathing now calm, relaxed, and your eyes clenched as you pressed your head even more into his chest.

“I love you.”

Silence. His body tensed all over, you could feel it underneath your palm, your body that was draped against his side. You fucked up. You did, didn’t you? You ruined it. You ruined his visit, the moment, the relationship, by simply moving too fast.

Yet, both his arms came to squish you close to him, eliciting an ‘oof’ from your part as he knocked the breath out of your lungs. He was hugging you, tightly, rocking the both of you with happiness, almost giggling with it.

“You fucking beat me to it! I was supposed to say it first! I was mustering the courage just now.” He replied and your eyes widened for a second as you processed his words, a smile bursting in your lips as you held him close, feeling the need to cry out of joy, sadness, and with hope.

“Then say it back, you idiot.” You claimed and he chuckled, moving so he could be facing you, both of you on your sides now. His hand came to trace your cheek softly, adoringly, as if he was etching your features into memory. 

“I love you, my goddess.” There was a blush on his cheeks as he said it, and you knew he meant every word. You felt heat rush to your own cheeks, still smiling at him with devotion. He licked his lips nervously as he stuttered his next words. “Y-You know… Virginia doesn’t… look that bad.” 

You were taken aback by his words and– Was he saying…

“Are you… implying you want to move… here?” You asked, your eyes wide, and now you realize Eddie had been having the same fears as you were. Moving too fast. In the eyes of strangers it might be, but after having him here with you… it didn’t feel fast at all.

“I mean– It’s a little too soon, and I need to… check finances and… get a new job and all… but, well– Gotta start thinking about it, you know.” He was looking down, trying to avoid your gaze. You really wanted to cry now. You never expected that playing a game would end in this situation. You smiled warmingly as your hand rested on his cheek, making him look at you once again.

“Mmm… I think that Charleston in West Virginia sounds… good.” He frowned and you knew he was confused. You remembered how Eddie told you he failed senior year twice, so maybe you had to be more specific. “It’s right in between Indiana and Virginia…”

His face softened, a warm smile appearing and his left hand rubbing your waist lovingly. You were making sure you both had equal distance between your family and friends. A distance where you probably didn’t need a plane ticket to visit. He gave you a nod, pulling you closer for his nose to touch yours.

“Then we better start planning, sweetheart.”

And that you did plan.

end

a/n: i just think that long distance eddie would be as feral as a rabid dog when meeting his partner for the first time ever. pls reblog, don't just like

divider by @thecutestgrotto

[sexy-monster-fucker]

Ghost of You

Logan Howlett/Wolverine x Mutant!Reader ANGST

Summary: After the events of Deadpool and Wolverine, Wade introduces Logan to the Reader. She looks just like his late wife from his Earth. When Logan starts treating her weirdly, she assumes he just doesn’t like her.

A/N: this is just a fun angsty idea I came up with. Love the idea of Logan having a late wife who haunts him everywhere he goes.

~~~

He froze completely in his tracks when he saw you. Standing in Wade’s living room, a bright smile painted on your face.

“Logan this is Y/N. She’s one of my best friends,” Wade introduced you. You extended a hand out to him, “It’s so nice to meet you, Logan.” He scowled as he stared at your hand. Growling and storming off into his own room. You furrowed your brows, looking back at Wade. “Well that was fucking weird,” Wade blinked.

That had been the first time you met. It was months later and things had not improved much. Anytime you were together you could feel Logan’s eyes burning into you. He practically never spoke to you, but could never take his eyes off you. It confused you. Often made things completely awkward and unbearable.

You were all hanging out at a mutual friend’s house out near the lakes. Everyone in your friend group was there. Wade showed up late. You were excited to see Wade until you saw Logan trailing behind him. Heart sinking in your stomach and lump forming in your throat. In your panic, you headed outside to the lit fire pit. Alone away from everyone. You caught your breath.

You liked Logan. Logan when you weren’t around. Watching him from afar trying not to disturb him. Something about you made him uncomfortable. You wanted him to have an easy time adjusting to a whole new place. Trying your hardest to distance yourself anytime he was around so he could be his true self. You felt a sort of connection to Logan. You longed to be around him. Chalking it up to be some sort of crush you had formed.

You stared at your phone. Hearing everyone erupt in laughter together occasionally. Sad that you were having to miss out on the fun, but doing what you thought was right. Debating on leaving, instead of just watching everyone enjoy your absence. You were a people watcher though, it warmed your heart to see everyone inside having a good time.

One of the doors to the patio opened. Catching your attention at the sudden sound. It was Logan. Your eyes dropping down to your phone, trying to ignore him. He joined you at the fire pit, sitting next to you. He stared into the flames not even acknowledging your existence. You were confused why he would come out here with you. Complete silence other than the sounds of the outside world moving around you. Awkwardly shooting a glance over at him. His eyes meeting yours momentarily. Both of you darted your gaze back down.

“You look just like her,” he admitted.

You stiffened your back, trying your best not to look at him. Silence other than the crackling fire in front of you.

“Who?”

“My wife,” he sighed.

And then, everything clicked in your mind. It was not that he didn’t like you, it was that you looked like someone from his past.

“If there was another version of me on this Earth, maybe you’re the version of her for this one. Not that you owe me anything, you just look so much like her. So beautiful,” he trailed off. Embarrassing himself with his confession.

“You— She died on my Earth. Fighting in a war against other mutants. She was the best thing that ever happened to me. I never forgave myself for not being able to protect her,” Logan’s eyes fixated on you.

“Is that why you acted so cold the first time we met?” You quietly questioned.

“It was like seeing a ghost. You look just like her. Sound just like her. Hell, you even wear the same perfume,” his face fell into his hands. You never knew the Logan of your world. Seeing headlines in the news about him from time to time, but never knowing him personally. Yes, you were a mutant, but not a very mutant crossed paths.

“It was like I felt everything all over again. I never meant to be such a prick,” Logan grumbled into his hands. You silently sat as he sulked beside you. Clear distress written on his figure. Unsure of how to help him, wondering if speaking would only make things worse.

“What was she like?” You attempted to break the ice. Praying he would lighten up.

Deep hazel eyes peered at you over top his hands. Slight cock of an eyebrow on his heavy forehead. Sitting up straight and looking up at the sky, Logan sighed, soft chuckle painting his tone. “She was the life of every room she was in. Always cracking jokes, getting everyone else to smile. Kindest girl you’d ever meet. We worked at an academy, all the kids loved her. Looked up to her. Effortlessly beautiful. She could’ve had any guy she wanted, but she chose me. Look where that got her,” he trailed off looking down at the flames in front of him. You swallowed heavy. Unsure what to say back. “You’re a lot like her. Especially to hear everyone talk about you. The way everyone just flocks to you every time you enter a room, I— Wade had told me a lot about you,” Logan looked at you softer than normal.

You felt your face heat up. Not ever having anyone talk about you that way. Not knowing Wade had been gushing about you to his new roommate.

Crickets hummed in the distance, a familiar silence. Logan watched all your friends inside having fun. Smiling. “Everyone in there adores you. I’m sorry I’ve been taking you away from that with my mean mug,” Logan huffed.

“Do you think… I could get to know you,” you asked, doe eyes staring at Logan. His head whipping back to look at you. A face he had fallen in love with some time ago. Sitting right before him, staring back at him. Fluttering the lashes he had grown to love. Locks of hair the color he was used to rolling over and seeing sprawled across the pillow. Looking just as beautiful as the day he last held her in his arms.

“I’d- I’d love that,” Logan smiled at you. You returned his look, feeling a weight fall off your shoulders. Demeanors changing with the new found attitude between you. Deciding the best way to learn more about each other was just to ask outright.

“So, what’s your favorite color?”

“Red.”

Your conversation went on like this for the rest of the night. Chatting even as everyone else left the party. Wade watched with a smile on his face from inside.

~~~

[END]

// Thank you so much for reading! This was just a quick fun concept I came up with the other day. Hope you enjoyed! If you have any requests, feel free to send them my way, or if you’d like to be tagged in any further Fics, let me know! //

{tags}

@toogaytofunctiondangit ~ @megangovier ~ @castle-of-ruin ~

[softspiderling]

that’s what i want | r.c

summary:

“Hey.”

Rafe grabbed you by the wrist and you turned around, glaring up at him.

“What, Rafe?”

The corner of his mouth curled up. “You’re hot when you’re so mad at me like this.”

OR: You want Rafe. Rafe wants you. Or does he? Ugh.

pairing: rafe cameron x reader

word count: 1.4 k

author’s note: idk what this is lmfao hope you enjoy either way 🫶🏼

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

“He’s still looking.”

Your hand tightened around your pencil so hard you were scared it might snap, so you put it down, leaning back in your seat.

“Let him.”

Crossing your arms, you let out a quiet huff, and your friend glanced at you, a grin growing on her face.

“I don’t even understand the two of you.”

“What is there not to understand?” you asked back, turning to her with a frown like she just insulted you to the face. “He’s an asshole who doesn’t know what he wants and I’m sick of his games.”

“Well, he clearly wants you.”

You rolled your eyes at her. If only it were that easy. You and Rafe had been dancing around each other since last spring term. It was fun, being pursued. He was clearly interested in you, but he never quite made a move until recently. You ran into each other at a party, got to talking, and ended up hooking up. Afterwards, it was nice. He brought you coffee, walked you to class, you went to a few parties together. It was shaping up to become a good… Thing.

Until he just ghosted you out of the blue. For a month, texts went unanswered, his socials were completely dark and even at class, he was nowhere to be found. By the time he came crawling back, you had already forgotten about him.

Or well, tried to.

It was hard, because suddenly, he was everywhere.

Every class, every party, every coffee shop you went to, Rafe was there. At first, he only waved his hand in hello, paired with that stupid grin of his. Then, he started texting again. Acting like the last month hadn’t happened. He even venmoed you $20, like you were some service he could buy. Just to spite him, you venmoed him $21 back.

“That’s it for today. Have a nice weekend.”

The words had barely left your professor’s lips when people had already started packing their bags, heading out of the lecture hall. You had been stewing in your feelings for so long, you hadn’t even noticed that the lecture passed by in what felt like seconds.

“Hey, I gotta leave, I’m meeting up with my boyfriend,” your friend said, shouldering her bag while you were still packing your laptop away. Seriously, how did people pack up this quickly?

“Yeah yeah, go on. I’ll text you later.”

“Bye, see ya!”

Your friend blew you a kiss, before she walked off, leaving you to pack up your bag as quickly as you could. You could still feel Rafe’s eyes burning at the of your head, and if you were real unlucky, he’d catch you before you could leave. So you tossed the rest of your things in your bag, mess be damned, before you rushed out of the lecture hall.

Unfortunately, you weren’t quick enough.

You had barely rounded the corner of the hallway, when you heard Rafe call out your name, though you made no sign of stopping. It wasn’t long before he caught up to you.

“Hey.”

Grabbing you by the wrist, Rafe turned you around, and you shot daggers at him with your eyes.

“What, Rafe?”

The corner of his mouth curled up. “You’re hot when you’re so mad at me like this.”

You rolled your eyes at him, tugging your arm out of his grip, looking anywhere but at him. He was horrendously hot, and you knew it would weaken your resolve to look at him.

“What do you want, Rafe.”

“Let me take you out for dinner.”

Your eyes snapped up at him, your mouth agape. Well, so much for not looking at him.

“Are you out of your fucking mind?” you snapped at him. “You ghosted me for a month, Rafe. A month! Why the fuck would I go out with you again? Just so you can ghost me again in two weeks?”

Rafe sighed. “Look, I’m sorry, alright? It was stupid, I was just overwhelmed. I shouldn’t have just treated you like that.”

“Ghosted me. You shouldn’t have ghosted me,” you corrected him and he begrudgingly nodded.

“Yeah, yeah. I shouldn’t have ghosted you. I’m sorry,” Rafe relented. “Tell me how I can make it up to you.”

You rolled your eyes again. Wow, there was a lot of that going on.

“I don’t know,” you said, trying to think of something so ridiculous that he’d give up. “Blast a romantic song out of a boombox or something.”

Rafe gave you a look, his eye twitching. Good. He was so close to losing his mind and you were close to getting the hell out of here.

“That’s the only way you can make it up to me,” you said, raising your chin defiantly at him as he only stared at you for a while. Then, he sighed.

“Fine. Come on.”

“Wha-?”

The rest of the word died at the back of your throat when Rafe grabbed you by the hand, dragging you out of the building. It was shortly after noon, and the campus was crowded, with students heading to the library, cafeteria, or just enjoying sitting outside in the sun. Rafe headed straight to a group of guys, who were blasting Drake music out of their bluetooth speakers.

“Give me that,” Rafe said, snatching the speaker out of one of the guys’ hands, turning off his music, throwing him a dirty look. “Drake, really?”

“Rafe, what are you doing?” you asked, glancing around, starting to get nervous. He wasn’t really going to do what you said, was he?

“Just give me a minute,” Rafe grumbled, scrolling on his phone, before the intro of Whitney Houston’s how will I know started playing out of the speakers. Your eyes widened, both out of horror and disbelief.

“Can I get everyone’s attention?” Rafe called out, holding the speaker up in air, waiting until most of campus was looking at him. “I did this girl wrong and this is the only way to make it up to her, so.”

Rafe turned to find your eyes, saying your name, like he was doing a public announcement. Well, in a way, he was.

“I’m sorry for ghosting you. I’m was an idiot. Still am, considering I’m making a fool out of myself like this, but I guess a different kind of idiot,” he started, sighing a little, like he was questioning his life choices that led him to this moment. Honestly, so were you. “I didn’t expect to like you this much, and it just seemed easier to ghost you.”

His blue eyes stared deeply into yours, his forehead creasing a little, and you could tell he truly felt bad. No guy had ever embarrassed himself like this for you. It had to count for something, right?

Rafe took a deep breath, groaning a little under his breath. “Can you forgive me?”

Suddenly, all eyes were on you, and if you didn’t feel the attention on you before, you definitely could now. Your neck started to get hot, and you were sure, your cheeks were flaming red. You tried to say something, anything, but nothing came out of your mouth. The crowd didn’t seem to like that, as they started chiming in with different suggestions.

“Come on girl, forgive him!”

“I would never go out with a guy again after he’s embarrassed himself like this.”

“Dude, that’s Rafe Cameron.”

“He’s pretty hot, I’d forgive him anything.”

“Okay okay okay!” you said, tugging Rafe’s arm down, turning off the speaker. A few people clapped and whistled at you, but the crowd quickly dispersed. Not that you noticed much anyway, with the way Rafe was looking at you. A soft smile was on his lips, and you resisted the urge to roll your eyes.

Again.

“That was pretty embarrassing.”

“Does that mean you’ll let me take you out for dinner?”

“I mean, I have to,” you said, shrugging. “After this, no one’s gonna go out with you ever again.”

Rafe chuckled, pulling you close, leaning down to kiss you. A small sigh left, when your lips met his, the last of your resolve crumbling away. Damn this guy.

“Hey, can I get my speaker back?”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

author’s note: ngl this ended so much more different than i had initially thought

[woogilicious]

rent's cheap, ghost included ꒰ wooyoung ꒱

⊱ ۫ ׅ ✧ pairing: broke college student!wooyoung x ghost!reader (gender neutral ⊱ ۫ ׅ ✧ word count: 2.4k words ⊱ ۫ ׅ ✧ genre: comedy, fluff, hurt/comfort, supernatural au, soft angst ⊱ ۫ ׅ ✧ warnings: curse words, discussions of depression, suicidal thoughts, mentions of death (non graphic), wooyoung being an annoying little shit sometimes ⊱ ۫ ׅ ✧ a.n: this oneshot is more casual than the others and it's actually my favourite, lol. i know it sounds cliché, but i just really love this type of storyline so much.

You don't know who the hell decided to rent out your house to another human so soon. It's been, what? Two months since the last one moved out? And you were this close to getting peace and quiet.

But nope. Now you're stuck with watching some college kid struggle to drag in a suitcase twice his size and sad looking rice cooker into your kitchen.

You float near the ceiling, arms crossed, frowning hard enough to wrinkle the ghostly air around you.

He's muttering under his breath the whole time. "God, finally," he says, wiping sweat off his forehead with the sleeve of his hoodie. "I don't even care if this place is haunted. It's cheap, and I'm broke, so I've accepted death."

You narrow your eyes. He's accepted death? Oh, honey. We'll see about that.

You watch as he dumps his stuff in the middle of the dusty living room, sighs deeply, and flops onto the floor, face first. You wait for a bit.

...now.

You blow a cold breeze past his ear. He shivers, shrugs his hoodie up to cover his head like a turtle, and immediately starts snoring.

What?

No screaming? No running away? He's just... asleep?

You float down closer, staring at him. He's cute, you guess. A little stupid, maybe. Who sleeps on the floor without a blanket?

Fine, you'll step it up.

Later that night, after he wakes up and shuffles into the kitchen to cook himself some instant noodles, you slam the cupboard doors. Not once, not twice, but eight times.

He doesn't even flinch, just stands there, stirring his sad little noodles, muttering, "Me too, buddy," like he's the one haunting YOU.

You rattle the windows, and he throws a thumbs up at the ceiling.

You drag a chair across the floor with an awful screech and he shouts, "Sounds good, friend!" and keeps eating.

You...

You don't know what to do with this guy.

He's ruining your reputation as a ghost.

You float around, sulking, until you finally decide that if he won't be scared of invincible ghost you, then you'll just show yourself.

You remember the last tine you showed yourself. An old man had almost died of a heart attack and you felt so bad that you cried.

But Wooyoung? He deserves it.

You focus real hard, pulling your form together. It's a little tricky since you haven't done it in a while, but you manage. A little translucent, and a little floaty, but you look decent.

You drift right in front of him while he's standing by the sink, trying to get the hot water to work.

"Hi," you say, your voice a little echoey and spooky on purpose. "I'm the ghost haunting this house."

He blinks, dropping the mug he was holding which thankfully, was empty. He tilts his head a little. Then, with all the enthusiasm as if someone finding out their favourite ramen flavour was back in stock, he grins and goes, "Cool!"

You stare at him and he stares back, so genuinely delighted that you actually float back a little, suspicious.

"So―" he sets the mug on the counter carefully. "Are you, like, a real ghost? Or, like, a stress hallucination? I mean, either way it's fine, but it'd be sick if you were real."

You blink at him, a little thrown off. "...I'm real."

He pumps a fist in the air. "Hell yeah! This house is awesome, cheap rent and I get a new friend? Awesome!"

You don't even know what to say to that. No one's ever been happy to see you before. You're kinda... weirdly flattered?

After that first night, everything gets... weird.

Day by day, Wooyoung just keeps talking to you. You don't even have to show yourself anymore. Half the time, you're just floating somewhere near the ceiling, watching him live his life like he's got an invisible roommate.

And oh my god.

He. does. not. shut. up.

You kinda thought he would calm down after a while. Maybe get tired of talking to a ghost who barely replies.

But, nope! Turns out, for someone who is constantly tired and has panda eyes and sighs like he's carrying the weight of the world on his back... he's got a lot of mouth energy.

"Today I dropped a whole box of paper towel at work and my manager looked at me like I committed a crime," he tells you one afternoon, kicking his shoes off and throwing himself face-first onto the couch. "Like dude, calm down? It's just a paper towel, not some fragile diamonds."

You hover over the lamp, just blinking slowly.

He waves a hand in the air, half heartedly. "Yeah, yeah. I know. Your silence is valid too, and you're so real for that."

Some nights, he sits cross-legged on the floor, eating cup noodles as usual and watching weird documentaries on YouTube. All of a sudden, he tells you some random facts.

"Did you know that octopuses have three hearts?" He says, pointing the noodle cup at you like it's a microphone. "And they can just vibe with no bones. Just, squish around."

You just float nearby, dead silent.

"I think you'd like being an octopus," he adds thoughtfully. "You're kinda floaty too."

Sometimes you wonder if you're the one who is getting haunted by this loud, chaotic, tired human.

Not that you mind, exactly. It's just new.

But one night, it's different.

You know the second he walks in.

He slams the door harder than usual. He doesn't kick his shoes off, doesn't mutter a tired "I'm home" like he always does.

You drift down from the ceiling, watching.

He throws his work apron onto the floor and his hands are shaking a little.

"Fucking―" he starts, then cuts himself off, dragging his hands through his hair. "Customers are the worst!"

He paces the living room in circles. You follow him slowly, floating just a few feet away.

"This one guy today," he says, voice getting louder, "This asshole―he yelled at me for like, five minutes straight because the yogurt he wanted was sold out. Like I fucking make the yogurt myself, right?"

You float quietly.

He's not really talking to you. He's just letting it all pour out.

"I hate it," he mumbles. "I hate this stupid job. I hate that I'm broke. I hate that I'm killing myself for college when I'm not even smart. I'm just doing it because―" he stops, swallowing hard. "―because if I don't, my parents will be disappointed. Tsk, like they aren't already."

You reach out without thinking―your hand passing through his shoulder gently―trying to comfort him, even if he can't feel it.

Wooyoung laughs a little, but it's not the funny kind. It's broken.

He sits down hard on the couch, staring at the floor, then he looks up, right at you.

Even though you're invisible, somehow, he knows where you are.

"...Hey," he says, voice small. "Is it fun? Being a ghost?"

You blink.

"Like... is it better?" he keeps going, softer now. "Do you get to just... stop worrying about stupid shit? Like bills and parents and yogurt?"

He huffs a breath that's almost a laugh.

"I mean, if it's better," he says, looking back at the floor, "Maybe I should just―you know? Join you."

The room goes very, very quiet.

And you.

You feel something deep in your chest, something you haven't felt in a long time. Fear.

Not for yourself.

For him.

You don't even hesitate to pull your form together. No more floating half-there, no more hiding. You focus until you're solid enough that he can see you clearly.

You step forward, right in front of him, and say―out loud, real and desperate―"No. Don't do that."

Wooyoung's hand snaps up. His eyes go wide, so wide and then―just like that, he breaks.

He lets out this raw, awful sob and crumples forward, burying his face in his hands. It's not loud, or dramatic. It's quiet, like it hurts too much to even cry properly.

"I'm so tired," he chokes out between broken gasps. "I'm so fucking tired of pretending."

You kneel down in front of him, trying to catch his gaze, but he just keeps talking, keeps pouring it out like a dam that has finally broke.

"Everyone thinks I'm―" he waves a hand weakly. "The funny guy, the loud guy, the one who never shuts up. And I guess you probably think that too."

Well, that is true.

"But I'm just..." he presses his hands harder against his face. "I'm just filling up the silence so I don't have to think about how empty I feel. I'm trying so hard to make life feel like it's worth living."

He looks up, and god, his face is so red and wet and messy that it hurts to look at.

"But to me... it's nothing."

Your chest aches.

You don't think. You just move.

You wrap your arms around him, and somehow, somehow, for the first time, he can feel you.

His body stiffens in shock for half a second. Then he breaks even more, grabbing onto you like he's drowning.

He doesn't care that you're supposed to be a ghost.

He doesn't care that you're supposed to be scary.

He just needs to be held.

"Let me," he whispers, voice totally wrecked. "Let me join you."

You shake your head hard. You pull back just enough to cup his tear streaked face in your hands, forcing him to look at you.

"No," you whisper. "Please. Don't waste your life."

He shudders.

"I know it's hard," you say, your voice shaking. "I know it feels like there's no point sometimes. But you're still here. You're still breathing. You're still fighting, even when it sucks."

You swipe your thumb under his eyes, wiping a tear.

"…and that's brave, Wooyoung. Braver than anything I ever did."

He frowns, confused through the tears. "What do you mean?"

You exhale slowly.

"I became a ghost," you say, "because I gave up."

His eyes widen.

"I thought… if I stopped trying, the pain would stop too. And it did. Kind of? But now I'm stuck."

You glance around the living room, the cracked walls, the flickering lightbulb.

"I'm stuck here, watching life go on without me. Watching people laugh and cry and live—even when it's messy, painful and unfair and I can't be a part of it anymore."

You look back at him, and your voice cracks.

"I would give anything to have another chance. To eat bad noodles, to get yelled at by annoying customers. To walk down a street and feel the sun."

You grip his shoulders tighter.

"And no matter how bad I want to have another chance, I can't. But you still can."

He stares at you, breathing hard, hands still clutching your sleeves like he's scared if you'll disappear if he lets go.

"Please," you whisper. "Don't throw it away. Not like I did."

You don't know how long you stay like that, holding him. But slowly, Wooyoung's breathing starts to even out. He blinks up at you with swollen eyes and puffy cheeks and somehow still manages a tiny, tired laugh.

"You're kinda… a terrible ghost," he croaks. "Aren't you supposed to scare me away or something?"

You smile a little, brushing his messy hair off his forehead. "Maybe," you whisper. "But I think you're scarier."

He snorts. "Fair."

You squeeze his hand, gentle but firm.

"Wooyoung," you say softly. "You're not alone."

He swallows thickly.

"I'm here," you say. "I'll be here. As long as you need me."

You press your forehead lightly against his. Your voice drops to a whisper.

"Let's heal together."

He squeezes his eyes shut, tears leaking out again—but this time, they feel lighter.

"Yeah," he breathes. "Let's do that."

He pulls you into a hug again. Tight, real, so full of feeling you almost forget you're supposed to be a ghost. You hug him back just as hard.

After a long moment, he mumbles into your shoulder. "You gotta promise me, though. Promise me you won’t leave me."

You smile.

"I promise," you say.

Life doesn't magically fix itself overnight.

Wooyoung still comes home with bags under his eyes. He still has days where he slams the door and mutters about rude customers.

But he doesn't cry alone anymore, because you're there.

You're there when he drags himself into bed and mumbles goodnight to the ceiling. You're there when he rants about dumb professors and overpriced cafeterias food. You're there when he laughs too loud at memes on his phone and shows you even though you can't actually hold his phone yourself.

But slowly, you see the light coming back into him.

He even starts bringing back little cheap snacks from the convenience store. He leaves them on the counter with a little sticky note that says, "For ghostie" even though you physically can't eat them.

It makes you smile anyway.

Tonight is movie night.

You're curled up on the couch, or well, floating while cross legged slightly above the couch. While Wooyoung got three blankets wrapped around himself like a burrito, clutching a giant bowl of popcorn.

"Okay," he says, eyes shining. "We're watching a horror movie. A real one. None of that jumpscare baby stuff."

You raise an eyebrow at him. "You sure about that?"

He scoffs. "Pft. Yeah! I live with a ghost so I'm built different."

You smirk. "Right."

He picks some indie horror movie that looks grimy and messed up. Lots of dark woods, and creepy faces in mirror. Within fifteen minutes, Wooyoung is already sitting suspiciously closer to you. Within thirty minutes, he's gripping the popcorn bowl like his life depends on it.

You nudge him in the side.

He yelps so loud he throws a handful of popcorn straight into the air.

"Oh my god—!" he gasps, clutching his chest.

You stare at him.

"You," you say, pointing at him, "are scared of this?"

He scowls, cheeks turning red. "It's spooky, okay?!"

You float a little closer, crossing your arms.

"You literally live with a whole ass ghost. A real one." You jab a thumb at yourself. "Me. Hi. Real ghost."

He huffs. "Yeah, but you're not scary! You're—" he waves his arms vaguely. "You're you!"

You stare. He stares back, defensive.

Then you burst out laughing.

"Unbelievable," you snicker. "Wooyoung, living with a real life ghost, defeated by a low-budget horror film."

He grins, wide and stupid and alive.

And for the first time in a long, long time, you both feel it. Hope.

Real, stubborn, stupid, wonderful hope.

And maybe that's what living is, you think. Even if you're technically not breathing anymore. Just being here, together.

It’s messy and imperfect.

It's life.

[schlattslonghairytoes]

can i come over?

when schlatt moves to texas an unexpected storm leaves him with no where to go, will you offer up a room to your friend?

streamer reader x streamer schlatt

you had lived in texas since you attended college at texas a and m

orginally you went to ithica college, but you transfered during your sophmore year

you now had your own apartment as you were out of college

you knew a couple of other content creators who lived in the area, but not many

your closest friend, ted nivison, lived in los angeles, but you went to visit him every now and again

your phone rang, "gangnum style" blasting in your ears and groaned, you reached for your phone, only to be met with a picture of you and theodore from college freshman year

"i need your help guppie." teds face filled the screen and his dopey smile made you laugh

"you woke me up mr grouper." your nicknames came from the first time you got high together and decided to watch bubble guppies

"wakey wakey! does this fit look ok?" he set the camera down and walked away from the camera, he did a little spin before grabbing his phone again

"yes you look very fashionable theo. can i go back to sleep now?" ne nodded but very quickly realized he had something else to tell you

"wait really quick, remember schlatt? you met him during the lunch club era" you scanned your sleepy memory trying to remember this guy you probably met once.

"um, tall right? good looking?" ted nodded and laughed, sitting down at his desk

"glad to hear thats what you remember. anyways, im pretty sure hes moving out to Austin in the coming months, so you guys should talk cause he only knows a handfull of people out there." ted said

"cool. can i please sleep now." your tired brain did not care for this random man barely remember.

"yes, reach out to him ok?" he smiled at the camera

"yes theodore kennedy nivison junior. love you. byeeeee" and with that you ended the call.

you didnt really think about teds call all that much, untill around 3 months later you recieved a text from an unknown number

even though schlatt then tried ghosting you, ted finally convinced him to man up and keep talking to one of the few people living where he was soon moving

over the span of a month you two had been constantly talking, to the point where you were starting to consider him as one of your closest friends

you would facetime atleast once a day, text everyday, and you even streamed twice together on your account

you were getting very excited to have a new friend so close by

then came the storm.

you lived alone with your dog, and you knew your house would not be ready for this shit.

you stalked up on food, blankets, flashlights

basically anything you could get your hands on

and you bunkered down at your house with your dog, getting ready to thug the next few days out

you were scrolling on your phone, on the first night of the storm, power already out, house fucking freezing, and you see schlatt had posted on his snap story

you open it to find a video of him yelling outside of a completely dark marriot

screaming about how thats where he is supposed to be staying

and you were getting very worried, like your new friend who youve never met in person, might deadass freeze to death.

so you did what any caring soul like yourself would do

you swipe up on his story with your address and a follow up message saying "pull up to mi casa papi 🍆 "

and hope he would hurry so you could go to bed

around twenty minutes later you layed cuddled with your dog bundled in over ten blankets

when felt your house fucking shake with how hard schlatt was banging on your door

you walked downstairs, and opened the door, to a giant, shivering, and covered in snow schlatt, who you immediatly wrapped in a hug and dragged upstairs

"c'mon lets get you nice and warm." you brought him to your room where you turned your bed into a nice warm spot for him "i have some clothes for you, they were my brothers so they should fit" you smiled up at him

he hadnt said much yet and you could see the stress seeping through his face, he dropped his stuff and kinda just hugged you.

"you ok?" you laugh as he pulls away from the hug. he smiles sadly before sitting down on your bed

"ive been better ill be honest" he laughed quietly.

"some first day here huh?" you pat him on the back, trying to comfort him.

"you could say that. holy shit i thought that was a stuffed animal" he says looking at your dog

"go change dumbass, bathrooms on the right" you watch as schlatt takes the clothes and walks to your bathroom, you think you even hearhim flick on the light switch.

"do you want a flashlight?" you yell out to him, to which you get a small "please" back in return, you laugh and leave a flashlight infront of the door

you get comfy in the small sofa in your room, as schlatt was not going to fit on it, and your other bedroom was turned into your office. but you didnt mind him taking the bed

he came out of the bathroom minutes later and quietly shut the door behind him when he turned around he was looking at you kinda funny

you began to ask what was wrong before he cut you off "absolutely not, im not kicking you off your bed, get up" he towered over you on the sofa

"schlatt shut the fuck up, your not fitting on this thing, i barely do."

"you have a king size bed, were sharing, me you and that oddly stuffed animal looking dog c'mon get a move on" he got into the bed and waited for you and your dof to follow him

you laughed and made your way over, your dog following closely behind. you flop down onto the bed and look at the man laying next to you

"crazy this is the first time we're meeting" he says getting comfy

you lay another blanket on the both of you as your dog jumps up on the bed and lays between the two of you "im glad ted introduced us" you take a moment to inspect him

you two had called on discord many times and FaceTimed, but nothing lived up to the real thing.

"im really happy he introduced us too."

guys i kinda hate how this turned out

sorry 😣 😥 😦 😧 😨 😪 😢 😞 😰 😿 🫤 ❤️‍🩹 ☹️ 😐

[forzarma]

Between the lines

Lando Norris x Law student!reader

A/N: ok amma just act like i didn’t ghost this app for months and came out if nowhere but here we are ig. Also the Brazilian gp??? What the heck like wild race istg😭

It all started one night in Monaco, on a break from law school. You were on vacation with a friend, celebrating the rare freedom that came with a brief pause in your intense study schedule. A night at the casino was not usually your scene, but your friend had insisted.

After about an hour, she’d struck up a flirtatious conversation with some guy who’d been lingering by the bar. You waved her off, telling her you’d be fine, and took a seat on your own near a roulette table.

That’s when he walked up. Unassuming at first, with that messy hair and a slightly cocky smile that had “trouble” written all over it.

“Mind if I join you?” he asked, a hint of an accent in his voice.

You shrugged, amused. “Go for it. But I’m not particularly good at this.”

He chuckled. “Neither am I.”

You exchanged a few more jokes, but it didn’t take long for him to introduce himself, giving you his number in a smooth, unhurried way.

“Lando,” he said, his eyes glinting with mischief.

You stashed the number away without much thought. It was only the next day, when you mentioned the encounter to your little sister over FaceTime, that you realized who he actually was.

“Some guy named Lando gave me his number at the casino,” you’d said offhandedly. Her jaw dropped.

“Wait, Lando who??.”

You blinked, stunned, and then laughed. “I don’t know, apparently he’s famous”

“so it’s lando fucking norris what” she said wide eyed

She rolled her eyes, muttering, “Only my sister would be this oblivious to F1 drivers. I’ve been a die-hard fan since I was, like, ten, and you meet one without even knowing?”

From there, you let yourself get to know him, intrigued by how normal he seemed compared to the hype you’d suddenly realized surrounded him. When he asked you out, you thought, why not? You were used to focusing on your studies and keeping your personal life private, so it didn’t seem like much would change. But with Lando, everything was different.

-

Months later, you’d fallen into an unexpected but steady rhythm with Lando. Despite his career, he managed to keep things low-key. Neither of you posted much about each other. Hell, you barely posted anything at all. You were still a law student with a private life, and the last thing you wanted was for the whole world to know who you were dating.

One evening, you were lying on his couch, scrolling through your phone, when Lando turned to you with a sly grin.

“Babe, you know… you’re eventually gonna get caught, right? Someone’s going to snap a picture of us, and then the cat’s out of the bag,” he teased, nudging your leg with his.

You groaned, rolling your eyes. “Oh, sure, because every random person with a camera is just dying to know who you’re dating.”

He snickered, leaning in closer. “Maybe. But you know, it could be kinda nice… to go out sometimes. Like, properly. We don’t have to make a big deal of it.”

You hesitated, biting your lip. As much as you loved being with him, the idea of being recognized—or worse, photographed—made you cringe. Your accounts were private, your life simple, and you weren’t sure how you’d feel about people seeing you with him.

But, at the same time, you knew it wasn’t fair to keep him hidden away forever. So, you took a deep breath and gave him a small smile. “What if we make a deal?”

His eyebrows shot up in interest. “I’m listening.”

“You can have me at the paddock,” you said, already dreading the idea. “But my accounts stay private, no tags, no ‘girlfriend reveals’ on Instagram. I’ll show up, I’ll be there for you but I’m not trying to become some celebrity.”

He grinned, leaning in to kiss you softly. “Deal. Although I can’t promise you won’t end up in a couple of team photos. You know how they love to catch every damn moment.”

You chuckled, trying not to think too hard about what you were signing up for.

-

A couple of weeks later, you were lying in bed with Lando, scrolling mindlessly through Instagram, when you felt a pang of guilt.

“I never actually told you about my sister,” you said suddenly.

“Oh?” He looked over at you with interest.

“Yeah, she’s been obsessed with F1 since she was like, ten,” you explained, laughing softly. “She’s begged me to take her to a race for years, but I was always too busy with school. Now she’s a full-on Ferrari fan… and she’s probably never going to forgive me for dating you.”

He grinned, intrigued. “A Ferrari fan, huh? That’s rough. Maybe I can convince her to switch sides.”

You snorted. “Good luck. She’s already sworn allegiance to Sebastian Vettel. In her words, McLaren’s colors are ‘an offense to her soul.’”

Lando laughed, shaking his head. “Well, in that case, we’ll have to win her over somehow. Why don’t we bring her to a race? I’ll make sure she gets the best seats, full experience,

You raised an eyebrow, surprised. “She’d lose her mind. Seriously. Are you sure? Because I can tell you right now, she’d never root for McLaren.

“Absolutely,” he said, squeezing your hand. “If she’s as big a fan as you say, she deserves a proper race weekend. Plus, I think it’s time we officially break her ‘Ferrari-only’ heart.”

-

On race day, you and Lando arrived at the paddock, and immediately, heads turned. You’d chosen a classic, chic outfit and despite your initial nerves, you managed to keep your cool.

You spotted your sister down the row, and her jaw dropped as soon as she saw you. She approached, barely able to contain her excitement, though she shot a mock glare at Lando.

“Such a shame I don’t like McLaren,” she said, her tone dripping with sarcasm.

“Yeah, yeah,” he replied with a grin. “You just wait. One lap, and you’ll be a fan.”

She rolled her eyes, but you could tell she was thrilled, practically bouncing on her heels as she looked around at the spectacle. She turned to you, eyes wide with disbelief. “You’re really here… at a race. I don’t know whether to thank you or disown you.”

You laughed, nudging her playfully. “I’m still not a fan, if that helps.”

She huffed, pretending to be offended. “I guess I’ll forgive you. But only if you bring me every single time from now on.”

The rest of the day passed in a blur of cameras, fans, and the hum of engines. You couldn’t deny the rush of excitement that came with being part of the chaos, even if it meant being in the public eye. And when you saw your sister’s face, completely lit up as she took in every second, it felt worth it.

-

The relationship slowly became public, just as you and Lando had agreed. You kept your accounts locked down, but fans began to recognize you, and a few photos of you two at the paddock circulated on social media.

Your sister stayed true to her Ferrari fandom, texting you regularly to tease you about your “betrayal.” But every now and then, you’d catch her slipping in a comment about McLaren usually something along the lines of, “Okay, that car looks pretty badass.”

One evening, Lando turned to you with a satisfied grin. “I think we’re doing alright, don’t you think?”

You looked around the Monaco apartment you’d somehow started calling “home” without even realizing it, at the life you’d built together. You leaned over, giving him a soft kiss. “Yeah, I think so, too.”

In the end, you realized you didn’t need to post, announce, or shout your relationship from the rooftops. Being there for each other was enough, even if it meant sharing some of the spotlight.

After all, Lando may have been the one the world wanted to see, but you were his, and that was more than enough.

[mediocre-shark-tales]

THE ACCIDENT

Doohan Sister Reader F1 Driver Reader Cadillac Formula 1 Reader

33 pages or 12519 words later and I have finished this action packed emotional chapter to the story of Ghost. Please enjoy.

The past week had been a whirlwind of laughter, late nights, and the kind of deep, unshakable comfort that only my grid family could provide. After everything I had been through, it was exactly what I needed—a chance to breathe, to heal, and to remind myself that I wasn’t alone. And, surprisingly, I had gained one more friend along the way.

Max had spent the better part of the last month trying to convince me to finally let Charles Leclerc into my world—to let him meet me, the real me, not just the masked version he had only ever seen from a distance. I had resisted at first, hesitant to break down yet another carefully built wall. But Max had always been persistent, and in the end, I gave in.

The next day, Max showed up at my place with Charles in tow, looking far too pleased with himself. And Charles? The moment he saw me—really saw me—the shock on his face barely lasted two seconds before it was replaced by something else. Adoration. Amazement.

He had grinned, telling me how much he had already heard about me from Max, how he had hoped for a long time to forge a connection with me, even if he had never expected to see the person behind the helmet. And somehow, just like that, conversation flowed effortlessly between us. Hours passed in a blur of stories, jokes, and learning about each other in a way that felt both new and familiar at the same time.

At some point, without even realizing it, my family drama spilled out. The pain, the hurt, the anger I had carried for so long—it all came tumbling from my lips before I had the chance to stop it. I barely had time to regret it before Charles moved, wrapping me in a firm, reassuring hug.

He didn’t pretend to understand everything. He didn’t try to offer meaningless platitudes. Instead, he spoke with quiet honesty, telling me that while he might not know the pain of being rejected by his parents, he did understand the ache of loss. He knew what it was like to have someone who had supported you through every step of your career never get to see the dream come true—to race in Formula 1 without the one person who had always believed in you standing by the barriers, watching.

At that moment, I knew. Charles understood me. Just like the others, he too found something within me that he understood better than anyone else. 

And now, as I stepped out of my apartment, bag slung over my shoulder, ready for another race weekend, the weight I had been carrying for so long felt just a little lighter. My grid family was waiting. The paddock was calling.

—

The start of another race weekend always brought a familiar mix of excitement and nerves, the kind that settled deep in my chest like an old friend. But today, there was something else—something off. A strange unease sat awkwardly in my stomach, gnawing at the edges of my focus. I couldn’t quite place it, but I pushed it aside. Whatever it was, it didn’t matter. This was the last weekend before the summer break, and I was determined to make the most of it.

As I strolled into the paddock, the usual swarm of media gathered behind their designated barriers, cameras clicking and rolling, capturing every moment. They never called out for me, never asked for a wave or a smile. With my face hidden behind the helmet, I was more of an enigma than a personality to them—just another image to add to their coverage. That suited me just fine.

I was making my way toward my garage when I heard my name being called from behind.

“GHOST! WAIT UP!”

I turned, already recognizing the voice before I saw him. Charles Leclerc jogged toward me, a bright smile on his face, and at his side trotted a small, energetic pup. My lips curled into a smile of my own—though, of course, he couldn’t see it.

Once he caught up, Charles beamed, gesturing toward the little ball of fur at his feet. “This is Leo,” he introduced. “I remember you mentioning getting an emotional support dog, so I thought you might like to meet him.”

I crouched down, offering my hand, and Leo wasted no time in bounding into my arms, his tiny tail wagging furiously as he sniffed every inch of me. I cooed at him, running a gentle hand over his soft fur, and he responded by attempting to climb into the oversized hood of my hoodie.

Charles chuckled, watching as Leo squirmed, determined to make himself comfortable. “If you do go through with getting one, I’d recommend a small breed—it’ll make traveling a lot easier.”

I nodded in agreement, still distracted by the little pup, who had now successfully wedged himself halfway into my hoodie.

A voice called for Charles from the Ferrari garage, drawing his attention. With a sigh, he reached out to scoop Leo back into his arms. “Well, good luck out there today. I’m sure we’ll get a chance to talk more later.”

I gave him a nod in return, watching as he jogged off, Leo happily nestled against his chest.

Shaking off the lingering warmth of the moment, I turned on my heel and stepped into my own garage, ready to focus on the race ahead.

—

My heart pounded against my ribs as his car loomed closer in my mirrors, the unmistakable pink and blue livery flashing like a warning light in the distance. Every second, he gained on me, the threat creeping closer with each turn. I was on a cooldown lap, ready to box early and call it a day for FP1, but Jack wasn’t making it easy. From the moment this session had started, he’d been aggressive—dangerously so.

At first, I chalked it up to his usual reckless driving, but when Diego pointed out that Jack had only been pulling these moves around me, it became obvious—this wasn’t just aggression. This was personal. He was using me as a punching bag for whatever anger was eating away at him. At first, it was just frustrating, but as the session went on, frustration turned into real fear. He was playing with fire, and I was the one between him and the flames.

I stayed hyper-aware of his position, trying to predict his next move. As I approached the apex, I did everything right—I stayed predictable, held my line, and even gave him extra space to make sure I wasn’t in his way. But it didn’t matter. Jack veered wide—too wide—and cut straight back into my path.

I barely had time to react before the impact.

His front tire clipped the side of my car, sending a violent jolt through the chassis. My reflexes kicked in, hands tightening on the wheel as I fought to control the sudden instability. Instinct told me to pull off and avoid further damage, but the moment my tires hit the grass, the car betrayed me.

Everything went wrong in an instant.

The back end snapped loose, and before I could countersteer, the car spun—a brutal 180-degree turn sending me straight into the barriers. The impact rattled through me, a sickening crunch of carbon fiber breaking apart on contact. My head jerked forward before the harness caught me, and for a moment, all I could hear was my own rapid breathing over the crackling team radio.

“Ghost! Are you okay?” Diego’s voice was tense, bordering on frantic.

I squeezed my eyes shut for a second before letting out a frustrated sigh, my pulse still racing. “Yeah, I’m good,” I muttered, pressing the radio button. “But the car is definitely fucked. What the hell is he doing? Wasn’t I out of his way?” My voice came out sharp, edged with frustration and adrenaline.

A moment of silence. Then, Diego exhaled. “Yeah… you were. He just—” A pause. “Safety car is out. They’re ending the session early.”

I glanced at the damage. The front wing was completely destroyed, one of the rear tires had half-torn itself off the rim, and the sidepod looked like it had taken a serious beating. The chassis itself seemed intact, but it was going to be a long night for the mechanics.

The medical car arrived within minutes, pulling up beside me as marshals rushed to assess the wreckage. I unclipped my belts and carefully pulled myself out, stepping onto the grass. My hands trembled slightly—not from injury, just the aftermath of the crash settling in.

“You alright?” One of the medics asked.

“I’m fine,” I said, though my jaw was tight with irritation.

“Protocol,” he reminded me with a small, knowing smile. “Hop in. We’ll take you back to your garage.”

With a sigh, I climbed into the medical car, watching through the window as the marshals began lifting my wrecked car onto a recovery truck. In the distance, Jack’s car cruised slowly back to the pits, untouched.

Coward.

As we pulled away, I clenched my fists. If he wanted to make this personal, then fine. But he was about to learn that I didn’t go down without a fight.

When I stepped back into the garage, the tension in the air was thick. The entire crew was hard at work assessing the wrecked car, their expressions a mix of concern and determination. The sight made my stomach twist—this wasn’t how I wanted FP1 to end.

Before I could dwell on it, Nico and Diego appeared at my side, their faces unreadable. Without a word, they gestured for me to follow them. I obliged, letting them lead me to a private meeting room tucked away from prying eyes. The moment the door shut behind us, I finally let out a breath and pulled off my helmet, running a hand through my hair to fix the inevitable mess.

Nico didn’t waste any time. “The damage is bad,” he started, his tone serious. “The team thinks they can have it fixed by FP3, but that means you’ll be sitting out of FP2.”

I exhaled sharply, rubbing a hand over my face. “Yeah… I figured as much.” It wasn’t ideal, but it was better than missing the entire weekend. After a beat, I straightened up. “Make sure the crew knows how much I appreciate them. Actually, Nico—can we get them a couple of packs of energy drinks tonight? They’re going to need it.”

A small smile tugged at the corner of his lips. “I’ll have someone pick some up and bring them in.”

I returned his smile with a grateful nod. “Thanks.”

Diego cleared his throat. “You can change into something more comfortable for now,” he said, then added, “but you’ll need to handle media duties before you head out.”

I groaned internally but nodded. “Figured. Alright, I’ll be quick.”

With that, I slipped my helmet back on, masking any lingering frustration before heading off to my driver’s room to swap into something more comfortable. If I had to deal with the press, I might as well be cozy while doing it.

Hearing Jack’s words after the crash felt like a knife twisting in my chest. He stood just a few feet away, his voice dripping with venom as he dismissed the incident like it was nothing.

"Ghost should’ve just stayed out of my way."

"It’s not my fault he didn’t move over enough."

Each word hit harder than the impact itself. I clenched my fists at my sides, forcing myself to keep my expression neutral. Killing them with kindness had always been my motto, but even I had my limits.

When the interviewer finally turned to me, asking for my thoughts on the incident, I decided I wasn’t going to sugarcoat the truth.

“Well,” I started, keeping my tone even but firm. “I don’t know why Doohan chose to be that aggressive every time he caught up to me. I was on a cooldown lap, heading back to the pits, and my line for the entire lap was as far out of the way as possible. Honestly, I was watching my mirrors more than I was looking forward. I know what it’s like to lose a solid lap because someone doesn’t move over in time, and I would never want to do that to another driver.”

I let my words settle before continuing, my voice steady. “You can ask anyone else who passed me during that stint—I was as far out of the way as I could be without putting the car in the grass. So if Jack thinks I had more room to move over safely, maybe he should start petitioning for wider tracks.”

The interviewer, clearly taken aback, nodded and thanked me for my time. I gave a polite nod before walking away, finally finished with media duties for the day.

As soon as I was out of sight, I let out a slow breath, shaking off the tension that had built up in my shoulders. It had been a long, frustrating day, but at least now, I could head back to the hotel and regroup before tomorrow.

—

FP3 had gone smoothly, a much-needed turnaround after yesterday’s chaos. I laid down solid lap times, and, for once, Jack wasn’t driving like he had a personal vendetta against me. I could only assume his team had given him a firm talking-to—after all, taking a three-place grid drop for his reckless move in FP1 wasn’t something they’d let slide. Either way, I was content to leave the incident in the past and focus on the weekend ahead.

With my confidence in the car restored, I headed into qualifying feeling optimistic. Franco and I had a bet going—whoever qualified lower had to buy dinner and host movie night. It was our usual back-and-forth competition, something to keep things light before the intensity of race day.

Q1 was a breeze for both of us, and while Franco had a bit of a fight to make it through Q2, we both lined up for the final session, ready to push. In the end, I secured P8, with Franco just ahead in P7. That meant dinner was on me, and my hotel room was the designated movie night spot. Typical.

After wrapping up media duties and a quick debrief with the team, I finally made it back to my hotel room, kicking off my shoes with a sigh. I sent Franco a quick text letting him know the door would be open when he got there, then flopped onto the bed, stretching out for a moment of quiet before he arrived.

Just as I was about to scroll through the dinner options, my phone buzzed. An incoming call.

I frowned, sitting up as I glanced at the name on the screen.

Something about it made my stomach twist only for it to drop when I saw the name. JACK

The moment I saw Jack’s name on my phone screen, I knew answering would be a mistake. But against my better judgment, I swiped to accept the call, bringing the phone to my ear with a sigh.

Before I could even get a word out, his voice exploded through the speaker.

"Can you believe that idiot Ghost?" he spat, his anger practically crackling through the line. "Thinks he’s better than me? Acts like some saint when really they’re just a coward hiding behind a helmet! And now I get a three-place grid drop because of them? Unbelievable! Like, maybe if they actually knew how to drive, I wouldn't have had to force my way past! But no, of course, it’s my fault—because Ghost is some kind of untouchable mystery driver who everyone just loves to defend!"

I stayed silent, my grip tightening on the phone as his rant continued. He didn’t even pause, too caught up in his own fury to notice that I hadn’t said a single word.

"You’d think the FIA would actually do their jobs for once, but no. Instead, I get the penalty. Ghost gets to play the victim. It’s so goddamn rigged! And you know what’s worse? I bet they don’t even care! Probably just sitting in their fancy hotel room, celebrating like they’re some kind of hero—”

My jaw clenched. My fingers curled so tightly around the phone I thought it might snap in half. He just kept going.

Jack, my brother, was raging about me. Trashing me. Humiliating me without even realizing I was the one on the other end of the line.

And the worst part? He thought I was his ally in all of this.

I bit my tongue, forcing myself to stay quiet, but my patience was razor-thin. Each passing second only fanned the flames of my fury.

Then, as if finally sensing the shift, he hesitated. The ranting stopped.

"...Why are you so quiet?" His voice was softer now, cautious before sighing. "Are you still upset about two weeks ago? I thought we were siblings. Siblings don’t hold grudges."

That was it. That was my breaking point.

I exhaled sharply, my voice like ice. "Maybe one day, you’ll look in a fucking mirror and realize how stupid you are."

Silence. A stunned pause on his end.

Then, before he could say another word, I hung up.

I stared at my phone for a long moment before opening his contact and hitting mute.

No more. Not tonight. Not ever if I had it my way.

—-

The paddock buzzed with energy, the excited chatter of fans blending with the occasional roar of an engine being fired up in the distance. I waved at the crowds as our parade trailer slowly rolled along the track, the air electric with anticipation for race day.

"Hey, Ghost, wanted to chat with you for a moment."

I turned from the waving fans to find a familiar set of piercing blue eyes watching me with quiet concern. Max Verstappen leaned casually against the railing of the trailer, his expression softer than usual.

"Hey, Max," I greeted, my voice slightly muffled through my helmet. "What's up?"

He smirked, but there was a weight behind it, something more serious lingering in his gaze. "Well, I just thought I’d check in," he said, shifting to fully face me. "Seeing as a certain someone has been attacking your character to the press. Normally, I’d say you can handle it, but given that this person is… close to your heart, I just wanted to see if you’re okay. Or if you need some advice."

I stiffened slightly but exhaled, forcing my shoulders to relax. "Appreciate it, but I’m fine," I replied, though I wasn't even sure if I fully believed that.

Max gave me a look—one that made it clear he wasn’t buying my deflection for a second. "Ghost," he said, voice firm but kind, "I know what it's like to have people twist the truth about you. I also know that when it's someone you care about doing it, it hits differently."

I stayed quiet, gripping the railing tighter as I watched the crowd. The fans had no idea that under my baggy hoodie and helmet, I was barely holding my frustration together.

"Look, I had my fair share of bad press, people calling me aggressive, reckless, a bad teammate—" he paused, smirking slightly, "—which, okay, sometimes I was."

I let out a short laugh despite myself.

"But when people you trust go out of their way to turn others against you? That’s a different kind of pain," he continued, voice quieter now. "You have to remind yourself of who you are, not who they’re trying to make you out to be."

I clenched my jaw. "And what if they don’t stop?"

Max shrugged. "Then you prove them wrong. Not by explaining yourself to them—people like that don’t listen. You prove them wrong by continuing to be who you are and letting your results speak for themselves. You’re here because you earned it. Don’t let someone else's bitterness make you forget that."

I swallowed hard, Max’s words sinking in deeper than I expected.

Before I could respond, another voice chimed in.

"Max giving wisdom? That’s new," Charles teased, leaning onto the trailer railing beside us, his usual easygoing grin in place.

Max rolled his eyes. "I can be wise when necessary."

Charles chuckled but turned to me with the same concern Max had. "Ghost, I was going to come find you after this. Have you seen what Jack has been saying?"

I nodded stiffly. "Yeah. I’ve seen it."

Charles sighed, shaking his head. "It’s one thing when the media twists things, but when it’s family…" His expression darkened for a moment, as if recalling something from his past. "That’s a wound that doesn’t heal so easily."

I looked between them, both championship-winning drivers who had dealt with pressure, scrutiny, and the weight of expectations. "So what do I do? Just ignore it?"

Charles hummed in thought. "Sometimes, yes. Not every battle is worth fighting, especially when the other person only wants to provoke you. But…" He gave me a knowing look. "I also know you, Ghost. You want to say something. Which you did yesterday, but I am sure you want to say a lot more than just that."

I crossed my arms, exhaling through my nose. "I do. But I don’t want to make it worse. I just… I want to make it stop."

Max nudged my shoulder lightly. "Then make sure that when you do speak, it’s on your terms. Don’t react in anger. Take your time, think it through, and when you do respond—make sure it’s something you won’t regret later."

Charles nodded in agreement. "And don’t forget, you have people who will stand by you no matter what. You’re not alone in this, even if it feels like it in the moment.”

I let their words settle, the weight on my chest feeling just a little lighter. They were right. The best thing I could do was stay true to myself and let my driving do the talking. But if Jack thought I was going to just roll over and let him tarnish my name without consequence, he had another thing coming.

—

The race had been a brutal test of endurance, but I had thrived in it, clawing my way up from P8 to P6. Every lap had been a battle, and I had relished it. Racing Franco for P5 had been exhilarating—a test of skill, trust, and sheer determination. We had fought hard, pushing each other to the limits, but never crossing that dangerous line. It was a dance we had perfected over the years—close, competitive, and always respectful. I had giggled at one point, the thrill of our fight lighting a fire in me. This was what racing was meant to be.

But now, that moment felt like a lifetime ago.

I had finally broken through, leaving Franco behind, and my next target had been Pierre in P4. It wasn’t often I got to fight with him this high up the grid, and I had been determined to make it count. Lap after lap, I studied his lines, looking for an opening. I found it—a tiny window of opportunity he left open at the same corner each time.

So, I went for it.

The overtake was clean, precise. For a fleeting second, I was ahead, the rush of success surging through me. But Pierre wasn’t ready to give up. He fought back, pushing for the racing line, and that’s when everything went wrong.

A flash of movement.

His rear right tire clipped my front left.

Then—impact.

A sickening pop, followed by a deep, gut-wrenching crunch.

The world twisted violently. My stomach dropped as the front of my car lifted. For a split second, I thought I could save it, but then—

The wind caught me.

I was airborne.

The first flip knocked the air from my lungs, my body slamming against the seat as the car pitched sideways. Sky. Track. Sky. Track. The violent rotations blurred my vision as my body smashed against the cockpit walls. The sounds were deafening—metal shrieking, carbon fiber shattering, the deep thuds of impact every time the car hit the ground.

I lost count of how many times I flipped.

Then, the final slam.

The car landed hard on its back, skidding across the track before it slammed into the barrier with a force that rattled my bones. Pain exploded across my chest where the harness had dug in, my body jerked forward and then snapped back into the seat. My head bounced off the padding, my vision swimming. I hung from the seatbelt like meat being processed in a butcher shop. 

Then—

BOOM.

The explosion rattled through my entire body. The car shuddered as flames erupted from the rear.

Heat.

Sudden. Overwhelming.

The cockpit was hot—scalding, suffocating. The smell of burning fuel filled my lungs, thick and choking. A deep, primal terror gripped me.

I had to get out.

My hands fumbled with the seatbelts, my fingers shaking uncontrollably. I yanked at the latch—one side came undone immediately. Relief. But the second—

Stuck.

I pulled again. Nothing.

Panic surged through me, my heart slamming against my ribs. Smoke curled into the cockpit, searing my throat, making my eyes water. My exits were vanishing. The fire spread fast, licking at the sides of the car, hungrily devouring everything in its path.

No. No. No.

I pulled harder, desperation making my movements frantic. The flames were right there, creeping over the halo, licking at the bodywork. The car was turning into a furnace, the heat pressing against me, making my suit stick to my sweating skin.

Move. MOVE.

I screamed as I pulled one last time—

POP.

A white-hot pain tore through my shoulder as something gave. I didn’t have time to process it. I tumbled forward, crashing awkwardly into the side of the cockpit.

No time to think. No time to feel.

I twisted my legs out from under the halo, flipping onto my stomach, dragging myself toward the jagged opening in the barrier. Every movement sent agony shooting through my body, but I couldn’t stop. I refused to stop.

Then—pain.

A sharp, searing sting tore through my collarbone as the fabric of my suit snagged on the metal. I gasped, feeling the warm trickle of blood soaking into the material.

Then—another explosion.

The fire surged forward, wrapping around the car like a beast hunting its prey. Heat clawed at my back, almost burning through my suit.

And then—white.

A cloud of fire extinguisher foam engulfed me, cool relief against the unbearable heat. Hands grabbed at me, pulling me away from the wreckage, urgent voices shouting orders I couldn’t process.

I was out.

The moment my body collapsed onto the ground, my limbs refused to move. Every nerve in my body screamed. I sucked in greedy gasps of air, my lungs burning, my heart slamming in my chest like a war drum.

A voice—calm, steady—cut through the chaos.

“Ghost, listen to me. I know you need to keep your identity hidden, so don’t worry. Your team made sure all medical staff under contract signed an NDA for you.”

I barely nodded, my mind still trapped in the fire, the flips, the terror.

I had made it out.

The next few minutes blurred together in a haze of exhaustion and pain, my body caught in the slow, agonizing descent from the high of racing adrenaline into something I would later call borderline pure agony. The fire, the crash, the desperate scramble to escape—it had all been chaos, and now my body was beginning to process just how much damage had been done. Every nerve felt raw, every breath was a struggle against the tightness in my chest.

The medical team worked quickly, their voices sharp and urgent as they carried me through the paddock toward the medical room. The bright fluorescent lights above me blurred and streaked, my head pounding with each bounce of the stretcher. The once-distant ache was now creeping up, turning into sharp, searing pain in places I hadn’t even realized were injured.

As they rolled me into the sterile white room, my gaze flickered toward the doorway, where I caught sight of two familiar figures—Nico and Diego. Their faces were twisted in worry, their brows furrowed, their jaws tight. They stood firm, blocking the entrance, as if shielding me from whatever outside world lay beyond this moment. My stomach twisted. I hated that look—the mixture of helplessness and fear in their eyes. I wanted to tell them I was fine, that I’d survived worse. But the truth was, I wasn’t sure if this wasn’t worse.

The gurney came to an abrupt stop, and suddenly, the room exploded into movement. Medics swarmed around me, hands pressing, prodding, assessing. The air smelled like antiseptic and burnt fabric. I barely had time to process any of it before a voice cut through the noise.

“Shit, there's a lot of blood.”

The words sent a fresh wave of panic through me.

“Okay, the suit has to come off, Y/N. We’re cutting the top for now,” a female medic informed me, her voice steady but urgent.

I barely had the strength to respond. A half-formed groan of acknowledgment left my lips, and within seconds, I heard the distinct snip, snip, snip of scissors slicing through my race suit. The fabric peeled away from my skin, and a sharp chill rushed over me. The cold was jarring, but it was nothing compared to what happened next.

The medic closest to me stiffened.

Her expression, previously neutral and professional, faltered. A flicker of something—shock, concern—passed over her features before she quickly masked it, returning to her clinical demeanor. But I saw it. I saw it.

Panic clawed at my ribs.

“What—what is it?” My voice came out hoarse, barely more than a whisper.

She didn’t answer. Instead, she pressed a thick towel to my shoulder, right where the fabric had been sticking to my skin.

Pain—searing, white-hot, like fire ripping through my collarbone. I sucked in a sharp breath, my back arching involuntarily as the wound protested violently.

Then, another sound—pop.

Agony.

A scream tore from my throat before I even understood what had happened.

The pain was unlike anything I had felt before, radiating outward, setting every nerve ending alight. My vision swam, black spots dancing at the edges as I struggled to stay present. The sickening realization hit me a second later—someone had just popped my shoulder back into place without warning.

I gasped, choking on the pain, my body trembling as the intensity of it all became too much.

Everything around me started to fade.

The room became distant, the voices blending into a low hum. The fluorescent lights above blurred further, melting into streaks of white nothingness. The pain was unbearable, suffocating, pressing down on me like a weight I couldn’t shake. My body felt disconnected, floating somewhere between consciousness and oblivion. I was slipping, sinking into the haze, letting it pull me under where the pain couldn’t reach.

But then—

A touch.

Soft. Steady. Grounding.

Fingers curled around my own, warm and gentle amidst the chaos.

My mind fought against the fog, instincts taking over as my fingers twitched, responding to the quiet comfort being offered.

Slowly, as if emerging from deep water, I forced my eyes open, my vision swimming before it sharpened—

Chocolate brown eyes.

Familiar. Safe.

Framed by soft, unruly curls.

I blinked, trying to focus, to cling to the one thing in this moment that wasn’t pain or fear or agony.

Next to me stood a worry-riddled Kimi, his thumb rubbing over the back of my knuckles as his other hand came up fully cup mine. His grip was steady—warm, grounding—but I could still feel the faintest tremble in his fingers. He only glanced at the rest of me once, his eyes flickering down my body before settling back on my face. Nothing in his expression changed, but I could see it in his eyes—the weight of everything he had seen, the helplessness, the fear.

That was when I started to notice the differences since I had slipped into that daze.

I wasn’t lying down anymore—I was propped up on the cot, a dull ache radiating from every inch of me. The medics were gone. In their place stood a silent wall of figures, their presence heavy with the kind of emotion that lingered in the air long after words had been spoken. Max, Ollie, Charles, Oscar, Lando, Franco. Each of them stood like an unbreakable barrier, shielding me from something unseen, something I had already endured but they still hadn’t let go of.

Their faces told me everything before they even spoke.

I dropped my gaze to my own body, suddenly understanding why they were looking at me like that. My race suit was gone. In its place, I wore a pair of soft shorts, my upper body wrapped tightly in elastic bandages. Gauze was pressed to my collarbone on one side white the bandages held my shoulder in place on the other, a stark reminder of what had happened. Small cuts littered my skin, angry red patches of burn-kissed skin peeking out beneath layers of bandages and burn cream. My legs were bruised in shades of deep purple and sickly yellow, the worst of them disappearing beneath the thick wrapping on my ribs.

I swallowed hard.

“Jesus, Y/N,” Lando broke the silence first, his voice unusually quiet, unusually small. He rubbed a hand over his face, the usual playfulness in his eyes replaced with something much heavier. “I—I saw the fire in my mirrors, but I didn’t know it was you until I came back around. I just saw…” His voice cracked for a moment before he forced himself to keep going. “I saw what was left of your car. I thought—” He stopped himself, shaking his head as if physically trying to rid himself of the thought.

Oscar, standing just beside him, nodded slowly, arms crossed tightly over his chest like he was holding himself together. “Same here,” he admitted, his voice laced with guilt. “I saw the flames, and when I came back around, I saw them pulling someone out… I didn’t know if you’d made it.”

Max let out a slow, shaky breath. He wasn’t looking at me, his hands braced against his knees as he leaned forward. “I didn’t see you until I passed the wreckage,” he muttered. “I just saw—” His fingers clenched into fists. “Pieces. Pieces of your car. Then the red flag, and the radio silence.” He exhaled sharply, his usual confidence replaced with something raw. “I’ve never hated a race more than I did in that moment.”

I felt my chest tighten.

Then, Franco’s voice cut through the thick silence, soft but weighted with something deeper. “I saw all of it.”

I turned to look at him. His usual easy going demeanor was gone, replaced with something haunted.

“I was right behind you,” he continued, voice flat, distant. “I saw the car flip violently, saw you hit the barrier, saw the moment you stopped moving.” His throat bobbed as he swallowed. “I thought—” He stopped, shaking his head. “No. I knew we were about to lose you.”

Kimi’s grip on my hand tightened slightly.

“I was behind too,” he murmured, voice barely above a whisper. “I saw it happen. All of it.” His jaw was clenched so tightly I thought it might break. “And I couldn’t do anything.”

I squeezed his hand, suddenly aware of just how much this had affected them, too. It wasn’t just my trauma. It was ours.

Ollie hadn’t spoken yet.

When I looked at him, his arms were wrapped tightly around himself, his eyes glassy but unreadable.

“I came up just as it exploded the first time,” he admitted, his voice thick. “I didn’t even think. I just—” He exhaled shakily. “I just needed to know if you were still alive. No one knew anything quick enough.”

My throat tightened.

He scrubbed a hand over his face before looking at me again. “You scared the shit out of me, Y/N.” His voice broke slightly on my name. “We all thought—” He stopped himself, taking a deep breath. “I don’t even want to say it.”

I looked at each of them, their faces still clouded with worry, fear, relief.

I had barely come to terms with my own pain, and yet they had been carrying their own version of it, watching from afar, unable to do anything but hope I would make it out alive.

The worst part?

I almost didn’t.

I swallowed past the lump in my throat. “I’m here,” I whispered, my voice hoarse but steady. “I made it.”

Kimi squeezed my hand. “Yeah,” he murmured, his voice quieter than before. “But you almost didn’t.”

I didn’t know what to say because nothing could make this any better for any of us. 

Suddenly, the room erupted in chaos.

Shouting rang out from the hallway, sharp and venomous, cutting through the tense silence like a blade. The boys around me tensed, their bodies shifting instinctively to block me as the door burst open with a loud slam.

“Where the hell is he?” Jack’s voice was dripping with rage, laced with a venom that sent a shiver down my spine. “His stupid fucking move got Pierre disqualified, and I just have a few words to say to that asshole.”

I couldn’t see him past the wall of bodies in front of me, but I didn’t need to. I could picture him perfectly. Stiff posture, fists clenched so tightly his knuckles must have been white, shoulders squared as he scowled into the room like a predator ready to pounce. His teeth were probably bared in frustration, his nostrils flaring like an angered wolfdog locked onto its prey.

Max and Lando were the first to move. The second they stepped out of the wall, the rest of the boys quickly filled the gap, reinforcing the barrier between me and Jack.

“No, mate. You better get the hell out of here right now,” Max’s voice was low, edged with a quiet fury that sent a chill through the room. “This is not the time for you to spout this bullshit.”

Jack scoffed, taking a step forward. “Bullshit? Oh, I’m sorry, is it bullshit to want to call out the fucking idiot who just ruined another driver’s entire weekend? Is that bullshit to you, Verstappen?”

“Not here, Jack.” Lando’s voice was sharp, his usual easygoing nature nowhere to be found. “Not now.”

Jack let out a bitter laugh. “Oh, not now? When then, huh? When he’s got another DNF on his record? When he’s wrecked another car? Maybe when he’s gotten someone else sent to the hospital?” His voice dripped with accusation. “Or would you rather I just pretend none of this happened? Like all of you are doing?”

Max took a dangerous step forward, his jaw clenched so tightly I swore I heard his teeth grind together. “You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.”

“Oh, don’t I?” Jack shot back, his voice rising in frustration. “I saw what happened. He didn’t give Pierre any fucking space. He—”

“Shut the fuck up,” Lando snapped, shoving Jack back a step. “You weren’t in the car. You weren’t in the fight. You don’t know shit.”

Jack shoved him right back, his face twisting with rage. “And you’re just gonna defend him? You’re just gonna pretend like this wasn’t his fault?”

The shouting escalated, voices overlapping in a heated, messy blur. Jack wasn’t backing down, and neither were Max or Lando. Every argument, every shove, every sharp glare only added to the suffocating tension building in the room.

And I had had enough.

I took a deep breath and carefully moved my legs over the side of the cot. The second I tried to shift my weight, a sharp, searing pain shot through my ribs, my shoulder screaming in protest. I let out a quiet groan, my face twisting as I fought to steady myself.

Ollie and Kimi immediately turned to me, their eyes filled with worry.

“No, you shouldn’t move,” Ollie whispered urgently, stepping closer like he was ready to push me back down.

I forced myself to meet his gaze, my expression calm but unwavering. “I need to speak to him.”

His brows furrowed, his lips parting in protest, but I spoke again before he could argue.

“I need to stand my ground,” I said firmly. “Just let me say my piece. Then I’ll come back to the bed. I promise. I can do this.”

Kimi and Ollie exchanged a worried glance, silent words passing between them in the brief moment before they reluctantly nodded. They stepped aside just enough to let me move, though I could still feel their hands hovering close, ready to catch me if I faltered.

My body screamed in protest as I forced myself to my feet. The world tilted slightly, my vision blurring at the edges, but I clenched my jaw and fought through it. Pain flared like fire beneath my skin, radiating through my ribs, my collarbone, my legs—but I stood. I held my ground.

Slowly, I took one agonizing step forward, then another, until I reached the backs of Oscar, Franco, and Charles. They were still blocking me from view, still shielding me, but I was there. Close enough.

The argument continued, Jack’s voice still filled with venom, Max and Lando still fighting to shove him out.

Enough.

I inhaled sharply.

Then, with every ounce of strength I had left, I yelled.

“JACK. SHUT THE FUCK UP!”

Silence.

The room went still, the tension shifting in an instant. Jack froze mid-argument, his mouth half-open as he turned toward the sound of my voice.

Slowly, the boys in front of me stepped aside.

And there I stood.

Injured, aching, barely staying upright—but standing. My entire body screamed in pain, my muscles trembling under the weight of my own stubbornness, but none of it mattered.

Because the moment Jack’s eyes landed on me, the fury in his expression shattered into something else entirely.

Shock.

Guilt.

Horror.

And beneath all of that?

The realization that he had just been screaming about the barely standing wreck of the person who had survived the worst crash of the season. That same person being his little sister.

And I was pissed.

"This is between us, Jack. Not them. Us.” My voice was sharp, unwavering, carrying the weight of years of unspoken words. “So you don’t get to yell at them. You can yell at me. You can do whatever the hell you need to do. But before you start—” I took a slow, steady step forward, my muscles screaming in protest, “—give me a damn minute to say my own piece.”

I stared him down, eyes locked onto his like a challenge, daring him to interrupt me.

Jack, for once, was silent.

He was still frozen in place, his face contorted in frustration and disbelief, but his lips were slightly parted, his brain scrambling to process the sheer absurdity of the situation.

Then, like something inside him snapped back into place, he shook his head and scoffed. “What the hell are you doing here?” His voice wasn’t as sharp as before, but the venom was still there, barely masked beneath his confusion. “Why are you a racer? Is this why Mom and Dad are so pissed off lately? Did you piss them off again?”

His words were like a match to gasoline.

Rage flared inside me, burning white-hot as my fingers curled into tight fists at my sides. Again. He said it like I was some unruly child constantly causing trouble, like I chose to be a disappointment, like it was my fault our parents’ anger always found a target in me.

“It must be real nice to stand here and judge me.” My voice was lower now, seething, dripping with all the fury I had swallowed down for years. “To yell at me for this. Because god knows I’d never get the same opportunity.”

I took another step forward, forcing myself to push through the pain. My finger jabbed into his chest, punctuating every word.

“I have spent eighteen goddamn years as the family pawn. And the reject when I wasn’t playing the perfect little future bride.” My lip curled, my voice shaking—not with weakness, but with the sheer force of the rage threatening to boil over. “You wouldn’t know what that’s like, would you? Because you were born with everything you wanted at arm’s reach. Silver Spoon on a sparkling silver plate.”

Jack’s breath hitched. His eyes flickered—hesitation, confusion, something cracking behind the shield of anger he had thrown up.

But he doubled down. Because he had to.

“How could you keep this from me?” His voice was tight now, anger still fueling his words, but there was something else—something desperate. “I thought we were siblings.” His fists clenched, his body tense like he was trying to hold himself together. “Siblings don’t keep secrets like this from each other!”

A bitter laugh ripped from my throat.

“Oh, that’s rich coming from you,” I spat. “You know what else siblings don’t do? They don’t sit there cracking jokes while their parents so obviously strip away their choices in life.”

His mouth opened, like he wanted to argue, but I wasn’t done.

“Remember that night I left?” My voice was colder now, sharp enough to cut through whatever weak excuses he was scrambling for. “Remember when I took all my keepsakes with me? After the last date?”

Jack’s entire body went rigid. I could see the realization setting in, the pieces finally connecting in his head.

“Well, that night—” My voice wavered, but I forced myself to push through it, to make him hear it. “That disgusting man assaulted me.”

Jack flinched.

“And I did not trust your ass enough to talk about it.” I took a shaky breath, my chest aching in more ways than one. “The boys behind me? They were the only reason I even survived after everything all three of those suitors put me through.”

Jack was frozen.

His breathing was uneven, his chest rising and falling in shaky bursts as he processed what I had just said. I could see his anger faltering now, something breaking beneath it.

Guilt.

Regret.

A horrible, dawning realization that maybe—just maybe—he had been on the wrong side of this fight for far longer than he wanted to admit.

I exhaled sharply, shaking my head as I took a slow step back, putting distance between us. My eyes raked over him—the sweat-covered fireproofs, the race suit tied around his hips, the fact that he had come straight here from his car.

He had been so desperate to argue, so blinded by his own rage, that he hadn’t even stopped to think. He had come here expecting a fight.

Fine.

That’s what I’d give him.

“I miss the little sister from before all of this,” Jack murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, like the words might shatter if spoken too loudly. “Where did she go? The same sister who told me everything—even if it added nothing to the story.” His anger, which had burned so fiercely just moments ago, was fading rapidly, slipping through his fingers like sand.

I scoffed, the sound sharp and bitter. The bottled rage inside me, the fury I had buried under years of being unheard, was spilling over like a dam finally breaking.

“Well, Jack, the only thing you miss is someone else’s storyline.” My voice was laced with venom, my breath coming in sharp, uneven bursts. “Because ninety percent of the time, I was just acting—playing the role Mom and Dad expected of me. The good girl. The perfect future bride. The obedient daughter.” I shook my head, laughing bitterly. “I bet you don’t even know the real me anymore.”

Jack inhaled sharply, his lips pressing into a thin line, but I didn’t let him speak.

“You want to know what I did learn growing up?” My voice trembled, but not with weakness—with the sheer weight of what I was about to say. “No, scratch that. You want to know what was engraved into my goddamn soul?”

I took a step forward, close enough for him to see the storm raging behind my eyes.

“I will never be good enough for our parents.” The words burned like acid on my tongue, but I forced them out. “And maybe—just maybe—I was never good enough for you either.”

Jack flinched, and for a split second, I saw it. The crack in his armor. The flicker of pain he wasn’t quick enough to hide.

“Every inch of me wants to hate you for that,” I admitted, my voice shaking. “Every. Fucking. Inch. And that’s a problem, because if I hate you—really hate you—then I’ll have no one left. No one from my own blood to call family.”

His lips parted, his breath catching like he wanted to say something, anything, but no words came.

I exhaled sharply, my shoulders rising and falling as the fire inside me flickered, wavered, then steadied.

“But you know what?” My tone shifted, the rage melting into something steadier—stronger. “It doesn’t matter anymore. Because now, thanks to these guys—” I gestured toward the boys behind me, my chosen family, my real family, “—I don’t care if I’m enough for you, or Mick, or Selina.” I straightened my spine, the weight of my past lifting off my shoulders, even if just a little.

“Because I am enough for them.” My voice didn’t shake this time as I pointed to them. It was firm. Certain. True.

“And more importantly…” I took a slow, steady breath, the words feeling like a victory as they left my lips.

“I am enough for me.”

Jack stared at me, his entire body tense, his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides. His throat bobbed as he swallowed thickly, his jaw tightening like he was forcing himself to keep quiet because if he spoke, he might say something he couldn’t take back.

I held his gaze for a moment longer before I added, softer this time, “I want you to be my family, Jack. I want you to open your goddamn eyes and choose to be my family. But if you don’t?” I shrugged. “Then I’ll be okay.”

Silence stretched between us, thick and suffocating, the weight of everything we had said—and everything we hadn’t—hanging in the air.

And then—

A sharp, stabbing pain ripped through me, like a thousand knives sinking into my body all at once.

My vision blurring as the adrenaline that had been keeping me upright vanished in an instant. The weight of my injuries crashed into me like a freight train, stealing the air from my lungs, choking me with its unbearable grip.

My knees buckled.

“Shit—” I barely registered the movement beside me before a strong arm shot out, catching me before I hit the ground.

Lando.

He was the closest. The fastest.

I turned my head toward him, my breath coming in short, ragged gasps. His face was a blur of worry and panic, his grip tightening around me as my body swayed.

I tried to speak, but my throat felt tight, my voice barely a whisper.

“Help, Lan—”

Before I could finish, the world tilted.

My body went limp, all strength draining from me in an instant.

Lando reacted fast, his arms locking around me, scooping me up into a bride’s carry before I could hit the floor.

I could hear the voices around me—worried, frantic, desperate—but they sounded distant, like I was hearing them from beneath deep water.

The shouting blurred together, overlapping in a mess of indistinguishable words.

Jack’s voice—Lando’s—others I couldn’t make out.

Bodies moved around me in a frenzy, panic thick in the air.

Then, through the haze, one word cut through the noise.

“Hospital.”

And then—

Blackness.

—

When I came to, I was lying in a hospital bed, the soft beeping of a monitor filling the otherwise quiet room. My body felt heavy, weighed down by exhaustion and the dull ache of my injuries. I was still in the same clothes, though my bandages had been changed. Notably, the wrap around my chest had been replaced with one of my sports bras—revealing just how bad the damage truly was.

A long, angry line of red and stitches stretched from a few inches below my right collarbone up to the side of my neck, stopping just before the middle. My left shoulder had been immobilized in a sling, secured with a specialized attachment to ensure it healed correctly. Even though I had already felt the pain, seeing the extent of my injuries made them real in a way they hadn’t been before.

Shifting slightly, I scanned the room, my eyes landing on Nico, who was sprawled across a couple of chairs, dozing. Next to him sat a familiar duffel bag—mine—most likely filled with a change of clothes.

I carefully tried to sit up, only to hit a deep bruise on my ribs. A sharp, involuntary groan escaped me, loud enough to startle Nico awake.

He rubbed his face groggily before blinking himself back into full consciousness. As soon as his gaze landed on me, his expression shifted from drowsy to pure panic.

“Woah, woah, woah—Speedy, what the hell are you doing?” He shot up from his seat, rushing over before I could even think about swinging my legs off the bed.

I reached out and grabbed his arms, stopping him in his tracks. His eyes locked onto mine, still filled to the brim with worry.

“I know that was probably scary,” I admitted softly. “And I’m not going to tell you not to worry. But right now, I really just want to get back into my clothes and—if possible—get discharged.”

I kept my tone calm, but there was a quiet desperation beneath it. I needed to get out of here. I needed normalcy.

Nico exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair before sighing in reluctant defeat. “Fine.” He grabbed my bag, handing it over before stepping back to give me space.

I managed to pull on a pair of sweatpants over my shorts and slipped into an oversized sweatshirt, though I could only get one arm through the sleeve. The sling on my left side made it impossible to move my shoulder enough to fit the other through.

Before I could even contemplate figuring it out myself, a soft knock at the door announced the arrival of a nurse.

“Here, sweetheart,” she said kindly as she stepped inside. “Let me help you get that last arm in so it’s not so uncomfortable.”

She worked carefully, undoing the sling and guiding my arm with practiced gentleness, making sure not to cause unnecessary pain. As she re-situated the support brace, she began explaining my recovery plan.

I listened half-heartedly at first, already knowing the basics—rest, pain management, taking it easy. But then she got to the part I had been dreading.

“So, you won’t be able to race for the next four weeks,” she said, giving me a sympathetic look. “That will give the fracture in your forearm time to heal, while also making sure we don’t aggravate your shoulder injury or risk tearing that nasty cut near your neck any further.”

I swallowed hard and nodded, the weight of her words settling uncomfortably in my chest.

“You’re lucky,” she continued, her voice a little softer. “That shoulder injury and the cut were just centimeters away from being much worse—either ending your season or… well, ending you.” She sighed, shaking her head. “It’s a miracle, really.”

I forced a tight-lipped smile, unsure how to respond to that.

She pulled a small cart closer, stocked with an assortment of bags, medication bottles, and creams.

“For the next two weeks, I need you to really take it easy—no pushing limits, no testing your pain tolerance.” She gave me a knowing look. “After that, you can slowly start incorporating light training, but only if you follow up with a doctor once a week to monitor your shoulder’s progress.”

I nodded again, absorbing the information, though my mind was already racing ahead to how I could shorten the timeline.

Satisfied, she handed Nico a small package containing my medications and care supplies before giving me one final once-over. “Follow those guidelines, and you should be back behind the wheel soon enough.”

With that, she left, and Nico wasted no time helping me into a wheelchair.

As he pushed me toward the back exit of the hospital—away from prying eyes, cameras, and the inevitable media frenzy—I let my head rest against the seat, exhaustion settling in once more.

Four weeks.

I hated the thought.

But I was still here at least, still fighting.

“Well, I guess you’re lucky in one more way,” Nico muttered as he practically carried me to move me into the passenger seat. His grip was firm but careful, mindful of my injuries as he eased me into the car. “Good thing it’s the start of summer break. You’ll only miss one race—assuming your recovery actually is four weeks, like she said.”

He buckled me in before jogging around to the driver’s side. As we pulled away from the hospital, I finally checked the time. It had only been about 45 minutes since I was in the medical room back at the paddock. That meant the race was either close to restarting or had just begun.

I turned to Nico, already knowing I was about to push my luck.

“I know you’re not gonna like what I’m about to ask—”

“So don’t ask,” Nico cut me off instantly, his response quick and practiced, like he knew what was coming.

I pouted, making my eyes just a little sadder, just a little more pleading. He glanced at me during a red light, and I watched his resolve crack. With a heavy sigh, he rubbed his temples.

“Fine,” he grumbled. “What is it?”

A victorious smile tugged at my lips, but I kept my voice soft. “I really want to go back to the paddock and support Franco. Just to watch. I promise I’ll follow any rules you want—any—as long as I can be there.”

Nico groaned like I had just asked him to commit a crime. He was silent for a moment, then exhaled through his nose before taking the next turn—away from the hotel.

“Okay, fine,” he conceded.

I barely had time to cheer before he held up a finger.

“BUT—you have to stay in the wheelchair and next to me at all times. The second I see you pushing yourself too hard, I get full authority to pull you out of there and take you straight back to the hotel. No arguments.”

I nodded rapidly, raising my hand like I was swearing an oath. “I promise. Cross my heart, hope to die, stick a needle in my eye.”

“Jesus, okay—no need for dramatics, that is not the image I needed after the events of today.” he muttered, shaking his head as he merged onto the main road leading back to the circuit.

As we neared the paddock, he reached into the backseat and pulled out a familiar helmet. Well, almost familiar.

It was one of my backup helmets, repainted in the official Cadillac Racing colors. A deep, glossy black with electric blue and white accents, matching the team’s livery. Unlike my usual helmet, which had personalized flourishes, this one was purposefully simple—a disguise, meant for situations where I needed to be more anonymous in the paddock. Though I am sure being the only person constantly wearing a helmet wont change the amount that crowd me just by changing a helmet design.

I took it from him, running my fingers over the sleek surface.

“You’ll want this,” Nico said, watching me carefully. “It’s got your voice changer, so you’ll still sound like what they expect.”

A small smile formed on my lips as I turned the helmet over in my hands. It wasn’t my usual one, but it still felt right.

“Thanks,” I murmured.

Nico just sighed again, clearly resigning himself to whatever chaos was about to unfold.

With my helmet secured, we drove past the main entrance, heading toward the private back entrance meant for teams and VIPs. The paddock was just ahead.

—

I had successfully been rolled all the way into the garage without any media swarming me. Still, I had been noticed. The first TV screen I spotted, displaying the live broadcast, suddenly cut to a shot of me sitting in the wheelchair.

I smirked, easily finding the nearest camera and giving a little wave with my free arm.

Behind me, Nico leaned on the handles of the chair, his sharp eyes scanning the area like a lifeguard on duty. He was assessing, calculating—clearly trying to figure out the best way to keep me out of the growing crowd of cameras and curious onlookers.

He let out a low sigh. “Diego,” he called, motioning to one of the engineers. “Keep an eye on them. I need to figure something out.”

Diego nodded, stepping in as Nico disappeared into the mass of people.

While I waited, several mechanics and team members took turns coming over to check on me.

“You scared the hell out of us, you know that?” one of them said, crossing his arms.

“Yeah, well,” I shrugged, “I do like to keep you all on your toes.”

A few chuckled, shaking their heads, but there was a real warmth in the way they spoke to me. Even though we rarely talked outside the paddock, their concern felt genuine. It was sweet.

That moment of peace didn’t last long. Nico returned, gripping the wheelchair handles with renewed determination.

“You’re gonna sit with Nicolas on the pit wall,” he announced, already steering me toward the garage exit. “You can help provide feedback on how the car felt this weekend so he can adjust Franco’s strategy accordingly.”

I blinked up at him, then grinned. Honestly? This was probably the best outcome I could’ve hoped for.

The pit wall meant limited access for reporters—no microphones shoved in my face, no overwhelming crowds. Just a few cameras every now and then, but nothing compared to being in the garage.

With a quick wave from one of the officials, Nico began speed-walking me across the pit lane. He was all business, keeping his focus on getting me across safely, while I just enjoyed the brief moment of fresh air and the rumble of engines.

We made it to the pit wall without any trouble. An official held onto my wheelchair while Nico scooped me up and placed me into the open seat next to Nicolas. The strategist gave me a small smile as I got settled.

“Good to have you here,” Nicolas said, adjusting his headset.

“Good to be here,” I replied.

Nico made sure my chair was secured against the barrier before stepping back. With everything in place, I turned my attention to the screens in front of me.

The race was fully underway, and Franco was holding a solid position, but I could already see where he might struggle. I leaned toward Nicolas, watching the sector times flash on the monitor.

“He’s losing time in Sector 2,” I murmured, analyzing the data. “Looks like he’s being a little too cautious on entry into Turn 9. He’s losing momentum going into the straight.”

Nicolas nodded, relaying the information through his headset. A few seconds later, Franco adjusted his line.

“Better,” I said. “But tell him to trust the rear more—there’s more grip than he thinks, and he can afford to carry more speed.”

Again, Nicolas repeated my advice, and once more, Franco adjusted.

I grinned as his sector times improved.

For the next few laps, this routine continued. I’d analyze, Nicolas would relay, Franco would execute. It was working—his lap times were consistently dropping.

Then, during a lull in the radio communications, Nicolas suddenly reached down and unplugged his mic. Before I could ask what he was doing, he took the cable and connected it to the jack at the bottom of my helmet.

I blinked at him in surprise.

The mic jack was technically there for media purposes, so recordings could be easily captured for team content. But this? This was definitely an alternative use.

“Go ahead,” Nicolas murmured with a small smirk.

I hesitated for a second, then took a deep breath.

“Franco?” I said into the mic, my voice still modulated by the voice changer.

There was a brief pause before Franco’s voice came through my headset, startled.

“Wait—what?!” He sounded confused. “Nicolas, why does your voice sound different—wait, hold on, is that— Ghost? ¡Ay, Dios mío! I was so worried about you, are—

I cut him off before he could get too carried away.

“You can talk to me like this after you finish this race, Franco,” I said, keeping my tone firm but light. “Right now, let’s focus on getting you on that podium, right?”

There was silence for a beat. Then, Franco let out a breath, his voice settling into something more determined.

“Right,” he said. “Let’s do this.”

For the rest of the race, I fed Franco a steady stream of advice, guiding him through each corner, each braking zone, each opportunity to gain a position. I pointed out where he needed to be patient and where he could push, where to watch for openings and when to strike. With every lap, he climbed the ranks, his confidence growing with each overtaking move.

By the time the checkered flag waved, he had secured P3—his first podium of the season.

The second he crossed the line, I let out a cheer, raising a fist in excitement.

“YES, FRANCO! ¡Tú eres el ganador!”

His laugh crackled through the radio, light and relieved. “I didn’t know you knew Spanish?”

I chuckled. “I thought I might as well learn some for my teammate.”

There was warmth in his voice when he replied, “I appreciate it, compañero.”

Nico leaned down to help me disconnect from the radio as Nicolas plugged himself back in, taking over to guide Franco into parc fermé. Within a minute, I was back in the wheelchair, rolling toward the main barricade where the team would gather to watch the podium ceremony.

As I sat off to the side, I watched the drivers filter through, those who hadn’t made the podium making their way back to their garages. Some stopped to check in on me, giving me nods of encouragement or quick words of support.

“Hope you recover quickly,” Esteban said.

“You’re tougher than half of us out here,” Lewis added.

I smiled and thanked them, appreciating the camaraderie. Even though we were competitors on track, moments like this reminded me that the paddock was still a family.

Then, Jack walked by. He didn’t stop. He didn’t say a word.

But his eyes—those sad, almost guilty eyes—lingered on me for a second too long before he turned away and kept walking.

I swallowed down the tightness in my chest, pushing the moment aside as the sound of hurried footsteps and familiar voices filled the air.

“Ghost!”

Before I knew it, Kimi and Ollie were kneeling in front of me, both of them looking at me like I had just walked away from a near-death experience.

Kimi’s hand landed gently on my knee, his grip firm but comforting. Ollie, on the other hand, slid his fingers into mine, holding my hand as if reassuring himself that I was actually here, actually okay.

“God, I am so glad to see you around and moving like this,” Ollie whispered, his voice unsteady.

“You scared us when you passed out like that, tesoro,” Kimi added, his Italian accent thick with concern.

I felt my face flush at the pet name. Tesoro—something lovers would call each other in italy.

Thank fuck they couldn’t see my face right now, or I’d never hear the end of their teasing.

I cleared my throat, trying to keep my composure. “Don’t worry, guys. I’m only out for four weeks, which means I’ll only miss one race. That’s it.”

They didn’t look convinced, but I pressed on. “If you want, we can plan another hangout during the break. Maybe go somewhere nice together so you can see just how okay I am.”

That got them to smile.

“Sounds like a plan,” Ollie said, giving my hand a light squeeze before they were both pulled away by their respective teams.

Just as I exhaled, thinking I had a moment to breathe, another voice called out to me.

“Hey, there you are.”

I looked up to see Oscar approaching, hands tucked into the pockets of his race suit, his usual calm demeanor softened with concern.

I smiled. “You found me.”

He chuckled, crouching down beside me so we were at eye level. “How are you really feeling?”

I sighed. “Sore, but fine. I’ll survive.”

His eyes flickered with something unreadable, but he didn’t push. Instead, he nodded toward the paddock. “You staying home during the break?”

I shrugged. “For now, yeah. Haven’t thought too far ahead. But I did just tell Kimi and Ollie I would travel with them if they wanted. No official plans yet.”

“Well,” he said, tilting his head slightly, “if you need anything—help getting around, groceries, someone to hang out with when you get bored—I’m around.”

I raised a brow. “Offering to be my personal chauffeur, Piastri?”

He smirked. “Only if you say please.”

I laughed, shaking my head. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

He patted the armrest of my wheelchair lightly before standing up. “Take care of yourself, alright? Don’t push too hard.”

I gave him a mock salute. “No promises.”

Oscar rolled his eyes but smiled before heading off.

I looked back just as Franco pulled up, his car rolling to a stop beside Max and Lando in parc fermé. The second the engines cut off, Lando was already pulling off his steering wheel, leaning over to say something to Max as the two laughed, completely unaware of my presence.

Franco, however, was different.

The moment he removed his helmet, his eyes scanned the crowd, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he searched for me. His face fell slightly when he didn’t spot me among the team, his brows furrowing in concern. But then, finally, his gaze locked onto me, sitting just away from the main group, tucked off to the side in the wheelchair.

For a moment, I thought I saw worry flicker across his face—maybe at the sight of the chair, maybe at how distant I was from the usual celebration—but it was quickly replaced by relief, his lips curling into a wide, teary-eyed smile.

“GHOST!”

His voice rang through the air, cutting through the noise of parc fermé and drawing the attention of nearly everyone around.

Before I could even brace myself, he was bolting toward me, nearly tripping over himself in his rush. He skidded to a stop just before reaching me, clearly trying to slow himself down so he wouldn’t accidentally hurt me. Instead, he dropped to his knees in front of me, hands hovering as if he wanted to hold me but was too scared of causing me any pain.

I chuckled, shaking my head at his dramatics. “I’m fine, Franco.”

But he wasn’t convinced. His hands finally settled gently on my arms as his eyes roamed over me, taking in every detail—every bandage, every bruise, every sign that I wasn’t at full strength.

“Do you feel any pain right now? What was the worst injury you got?” he asked, his voice quieter now, still thick with emotion.

Before I could answer, two more sets of footsteps pounded against the pavement.

“The fuck?”

I glanced up just in time to see Lando and Max rushing over, both of their faces a mix of shock and concern.

“You came back to the paddock after all that?” Lando asked, staring at me like I had just materialized out of thin air. “Why would you do that?”

Max, on the other hand, looked downright unimpressed. “You are injured, why would you come back to the scene of it all?”

I shrugged. “I wanted to watch the race and support my family. I didn’t really want to catch any attention to risk getting even more hurt though.”

Max gestured vaguely toward Franco, who was still kneeling in front of me, practically vibrating with emotions. “Yeah. That worked out well.”

I rolled my eyes, but before I could argue, Lando crouched beside Franco, looking me over just as intently.

“Are you sure you're okay to be here?” he asked, softer this time, the teasing gone.

I sighed. “I’m sore, but I’m okay. Just stuck in this thing for a while.” I pointed at the sling around my arm.  Lando frowned, but he nodded. “Well, at least you’re here.”

Max, who had been standing with his arms crossed, suddenly exhaled sharply and shook his head. “Alright, that’s it,” he said, leaving no room for argument.

I blinked. “What?”

“You’re coming home with me,” he stated, already pulling his phone out of his race suit pocket. “I’m not letting you fly commercial in your condition.”

I stared at him. “Max, I’m fine—”

“You’re injured,” he cut in. “And knowing you, you’d try to do everything by yourself and make it worse.” Franco and Lando both nodded in agreement, traitors that they were.

Max continued, tapping at his screen. “I’ve already invited the others who were worried about you. Kimi, Ollie, Oscar—I know they’d want to be there to make sure you’re okay.”

I opened my mouth to protest, but Lando held up a finger. “Nope. You’re not winning this argument.” Franco grinned. “Just let us take care of you, cariño.”

I groaned, slumping back in my chair. “Fine. But if any of you baby me, I swear—”

Max smirked. “No promises.”

Before I could retaliate, a race official called out to them, reminding them they had a podium celebration and interviews to get to.

Franco squeezed my hand once before standing. “I’ll see you after?”

I smiled. “I’ll be waiting.”

Max gave me a final nod before he and the others turned back toward parc fermé, the weight of the race now settling into the excitement of celebration.

And me? I was lucky—because of my injuries, I didn’t have to do any media.

At least some good came out of all of this bullshit.

Now the only question left on my mind was Jack, what was gonna come from this? Would I get the brother I have looked up to back? Or was this the end of my story a part of the Doohan family?

Masterlist

Taglist: @widow-cevans @honethatty12 @wierdflowerpower @imlonelydontsendhelp @thatsnotaddy @freyathehuntress @angelluv16 @littlesimps-world @dozyisdead @mizzy-pop @lost4lyrics @anunstablefangirl @nikfigueiredo

Thank You everyone for the patience! I was hoping that I could get back to updating on the same schedule I started with compared to the almost once a week I had fallen into. But I did not want to turn this chapter into two parts. Hopefully from here I can continue to update as often as I was hoping.

[yawnderu]

K-9 — Simon "Ghost" Riley x Reader | Chapter IV

Sick as a dog, and just as vicious.

1 2 3 4 5

What's a Lieutenant if not someone you can use as a stress reliever

Or

Being a gifted medic comes with free rewards

You weren't the only one catching up on some sleep. Simon was awake throughout Johnny's entire surgery despite having slept four hours the previous night, wanting to be available in case you needed his help, finally getting some much-needed rest after being practically forced by Price.

He wakes up six hours later, a small groan escaping his lips at the light entering his window. His burly arm comes up to cover his eyes, shielding them from the bright sun.

''Fuckin' hell.'' He muttered, getting up from bed and putting on a black balaclava. Shit went down yesterday, with Johnny almost dying, and Makarov is now free, able to continue killing civilians until they're finally able to catch him. At the very least, his best friend is alive and stable last time he visited.

Simon leaves his room, walking to the cafeteria to get a bottle of cold water and a few granola bars before heading to your quarters, knocking on the door softly in case you're asleep. No reply. He knows better, but... what if something happened to you? He uses the pathetic excuse to justify his actions, hand turning the doorknob carefully before stepping inside, footsteps surprisingly quiet for someone his size.

What a fucking sight. He stared at your sleeping figure for a while, taking in the details of your face when it wasn't pulled into a scowl or a bored expression, a small smile tugging on his lips at how peaceful you look before he realized how creepy he was being. He shook his head softly as if to snap out of it, putting the water bottle and granola bars before turning away to try and leave.

Try, because a much smaller hand wrapped around his wrist, almost making him flinch because of how sudden it was. He looks down at you only to find your eyes boring into his, tugging him closer by the wrist. A confused Simon followed like a lost dog before his feet rooted on the ground in front of your bed, giving you a questioning look with his eyes.

''Come lay with me.'' Your voice is much gentler than usual, laced with something he can't quite recognize yet. Simon knows better, really he does, but who is he to question the medic he's been pining on for months? He hesitantly removes his boots and climbs into bed with you, keeping a respectful distance despite his behemoth frame taking over half of the bed. His muscles tense up when he feels you cuddling up to him, being a painfully fitting piece against his body.

''What are you on bout, doc?'' You don't reply, simply examining his eyes for any hints of hesitation. You find nervousness, curiosity, doubt, and even the smallest hints of fear, but no hesitation at all. Your hand sneaks up to the bottom of his balaclava, pulling it all the way off before your lips crash into his hungrily. It takes him a few seconds of pure confusion before he kisses back, arms wrapped around your waist, and whatever questions he has on why you're doing this all of sudden pushed to the back of his mind.

Your hands grab at anything they can reach— muscle, skin, hair... anything, holding onto his much bigger body like a lifeline, his warm hands running up and down your back. He has fantasized about this moment so many times, yet the real thing is so different in a good way.

''Tell me I can touch you, bird.'' You simply nod your head and try to go back to kissing him, but he pulls away, gently squeezing your waist to make you look at him.

''Use your words.'' His words are almost pleading, wanting to make sure you want the same thing.

''I want you to touch me, Simon.'' Not a second passes before his lips are back on yours, tongues wrapping around each other's as his hands start to drift down, grabbing a handful of your ass. His touch is so desperate it almost makes you laugh, one of your hands sneaking down his shirt and feeling him up, defined muscles flexing under your touch. His slightly shaky hands fumble with the button of your jeans, breaking away from the kiss just to look at you and make sure you still want it. The half-lidded look you give him is enough confirmation, pulling down your jeans and getting on his knees, between your legs.

"Been wanting to do this since I saw ya." He confesses, too excited for his fantasies finally coming true to even feel remotely bashful about his words. He lifts up your shirt enough to reveal your tummy, gentle kisses planted on every single inch of skin his lips can reach as he slowly descends, planting open mouthed kisses over your clothed cunt.

"Fuck—" Your back arches at the feeling, eyes screwed shut as your hand goes to the back of his head, pushing him closer. His tongue is warm and wet, saliva mixing in with your growing arousal. He pushes your panties to the side, looking down at your gleaming pussy before digging in, tongue lapping the wetness before he latches onto your cunt, sucking and licking away like a starved man.

"You taste s'fucking good." He praises before going back down, the flat of his tongue moving around your cunt before slowly going inside, your whiny moans and hands gripping his short hair are all the encouragement he needs. He latches onto your clit next, long fingers teasing the entrance of your cunt, spreading your arousal all over them before he slowly enters you with one.

His fingers are thick and long, whiny moans escaping your lips as he adds a second one, making scissoring motions as he fucks his fingers deeper and deeper into you, tongue alternating between licking and sucking on your clit before hesitantly letting go.

"Sit on my face." It's not even a request, it sounds like a plea, though you quickly listen to his words for the first time ever, cunt hovering above his face as soon as he lays back down. He grabs a handful of your ass, squeezing the plush and pulling your body down to his face, eating you out like a starved man. His hands let go of your ass to unbuckle his belt, barely having the strength to pull his hard cock out of his jeans, eyes closing as he focused on the dual sensation of pleasuring you with his mouth and pleasuring himself with his hand, pre staining his fingers as his hand moves up and down his shaft faster.

"Fuck— Just like that, Si." Si. You never call him anything other than Simon. Sometimes Ghost, when you're needed during missions and hang around them in the helos, but the way you say his name... so much affection, even if it only comes from making you feel good. He's pathetic— God, he knows he's being pathetic, cock twitching in his hand at the idea of you reciprocating his complex and strange feelings for you, ropes of thick cum shooting out into his hand and stomach, a low growl coming out of his lips as he squeezed his cock dry of cum.

He focuses solely on you now, tongue swirling and flickering all over you, his clean hand coming up to rub your clit with his thumb while he assaults your dripping wet cunt with his lips and tongue. Your hands go down to his head, fingers pulling on his short hair while you use his face to feel good, getting closer and closer to the edge.

"Si, I'm gonna cum—" But he doesn't stop. Hell, his thumb moves even faster over your sensitive bud, tongue-fucking your pussy as deep as he can until he can feel your body shaking on top of him, thighs closing in on his head and squeezing as the intensity of your orgasm washes over you, his waiting mouth taking in all your juices, lapping at them greedily until you pull away from the stimulation, shaky legs managing to position yourself next to him, head against his chest.

"You hear that? Price is calling you." You lie, unable to contain the smirk on your lips as he flicks your nose.

"Piss off, doc." His burly arms wrap around you, a loud groan of protest escaping your lips when you realize you're forced to cuddle with him.

[PREVIOUS]

[miguelschamp]

loml

pairing: luke patterson x fem!reader

summary: 25 years later, you get a message from luke

warnings: sadness. again.

a/n: for @presleyluvschris. this is a part two to bigger than the whole sky. you don’t necessarily have to read it to understand, but it may help :)

25 years. 25 years had passed since luke died. you hadn’t been the same since. no matter who you met or tried to be with, no one could fill the void that luke left. not to mention, alex and reggie who you had grown close to, due to luke, slipping through your fingers.

as time went on, you had truly tried your hardest to move on. luke always spoke to you about living life and never letting anything hold you back. but no matter what, they never lived up to luke.

of course, it wasn’t their fault that you had always compared them to him. sure, not all of them were angels on earth, but the ones that weren't so bad didn't deserve to be in constant comparison.

you’d known luke your entire life. your parents knowing each other way before you were born and being sure you guys were best friends.

he wasn’t just your boyfriend, he was your best friend. the one person who knew everything about you. the one person who could read you like a book. the only person you truly believed in and loved like no other.

so, when a teenage girl knocked on your door saying she knew luke, it confused you.

as you let her in, you turned to her with furrowed brows, “i’m sorry. what did you say your name was?”

“julie.” she smiled, “julie molina.”

“oh, hi, julie.” you nodded, “i’m y/n.”

“i know.” she chuckled softly

your brows furrowed, “and you said that you know luke? as in present tense?”

“yes.”

“i’m sorry, but i’m not sure how that’s possible.” you chuckled in disbelief, “he- he died 25 years ago.”

julie nods again with a small smile before holding out her phone, “it may sound ridiculous, but they came back as ghosts.”

your frown deepens as you take her phone from her. your heart races as you watch julie perform with luke, reggie, and alex. that couldn’t be possible.

“i’m sorry, i’m extremely confused.”

“i get it. it’s not something you’d understand easily.” she smiles, “after they passed, they never actually made it to the other side. they had some unfinished business and in turn, ended up as ghosts. they’ve been hanging around with me for the past few months.”

julie watches as another wave of confusion passes over you, “julie-“

you’re cut off as you watch julie look past you, you turn looking around just seeing the small table you had against your wall. a few trinkets laid across it. nothing in a particular place. more like a junk table.

you turn back to her as she chuckles. she nods before looking over at you, “the last conversation you had with him, he was telling you about the orpheum.”

your face softens as she continues, “he told you that he wouldn’t have made it that far without you. you were the only thing keeping him going.”

your breath hitches as you recall your last conversation with luke. no one, but the two of you, would know about that.

“how-“ you start before looking around, “luke?”

you look around for a few seconds before your eyes land on julie. she gives a sad smile, “he’s here. he says he loves you. always will.”

a quiet sob escapes you as a tear rolls down your cheek. your hand coming up to wipe it away, “i love you, too. so much.”

julie can’t help the tears that fill her eyes. watching you as you looked around for the boy you loved. her eyes trailing over to luke who stood behind you. his own eyes red and filled with tears as he watched you. his heart shattering as he reaches out and his hand simply phases through your arm.

julie then remembers the note luke wrote you. she reaches in her back pocket as she steps closer, “he wanted me to give this to you. he said he knows it’s not much, but there was so much he wants to say.”

you take the paper gingerly from her as you look up to her, “thank you so much.”

“of course.” julie says, “i’ll leave you with it.”

you give her a soft smile before she walks over toward the door. turning and waving to you before closing it behind her.

you then look down at the folded paper in your hand. your chest tightening as you debated reading it. it wasn’t like you hadn’t thought about what’d you say to luke or what his voice would’ve sounded like if he were still around. because you did. everyday.

but having something from him that hadn’t been around for 25 years, made your heart race.

you take a deep sigh as you sit on your couch. you slowly open up the note immediately taking in luke’s messy handwriting. you chuckled softly as a tear rolls down your cheek. your eyes then flickering up to the first word.

hey, baby. i know this isn’t exactly how you imagined our next conversation going. it wasn’t how i imagined it either. i just want you to know how much i miss you. there hasn’t been a day that’s gone by that i haven’t thought of you. everyday i regret even going to the orpheum. knowing that i left you behind to live without me. that’s not ever something that i thought would happen and i hate that it did. i hope you know how much i still love you. you’re the only person that’s ever truly understood me and i can’t thank you enough for believing in me.

there’s no one i would’ve rather spent my 17 years with. i don’t know how i would’ve made it that long without you. i hope you’re living your life like i always told you to. i don’t want to be the thing holding you back. no matter what, you’ll always be my girl. i love you so much, baby. more than you’ll ever know or understand. live life for me.

- luke

you hadn’t realized you were crying until you looked up from the note. the paper littered with wet spots from the tears that fell. you sniffle as you look back down at the note.

“i love you.” you cry, “i love you so much.”

you pull the note to your chest as your eyes shut tightly. sobs leaving your lips as you thought about luke.

“i love you, baby. never forget that. please.” luke says as he sits beside you. knowing you couldn’t hear him, but feeling as though he had to say it. praying that by some miracle you’d hear him or see him. but as you looked around and even directly at him, he knew he was still invisible to you.

but even if seeing your beautiful face or hearing your soft voice meant you’d never see or hear him, he’d be okay with that. because no matter what, luke loved you. and no time in the universe would ever change that.

[starstruck-cupid]

Secret Lover

Jason DiLaurentis x fem!Reader

A/n: I'm sorry this took so long. I lost the motivation to write and the last few months have not been great for me this will be a two or 3 part series and might not end happily, but we'll see

“Ali can't find out about this. You can't tell any of them.”

Jason had sweet moments, but those words felt like a punch in the gut. He was right, of course. He usually was. At least he was when he was sober, which wasn't often.

The fling we had that summer, the same summer Alison disappeared, was short and sweet. It was what he needed it to be. He wanted something easy with someone malleable. I was like a stray dog. I was alone, and willing to follow whoever gave me any attention. Ali knew that the second she saw me, so it's no surprise Jason did too. The whole DiLaurentis family had a knack for sensing things like that.

Jason ended it when he found someone more fit for the image he was trying to portray. It was easy for him. He never had trouble with girls. It was never easy for me, though. Especially after him. No one could ever be him.

Rosewood after Ali disappeared was hell. Nothing ever happened in Rosewood. People were afraid for a while. They thought their daughters were next. As time passed, the feelings of fear dissipated. Alison was forgotten. She became a statistic. Just another missing girl from a small town.

Jason and his parents left soon after, it was weird seeing the house next door so empty. Then Aria left. She stopped messaging a few months after she left. No one blamed her. It was just Hannah, Emily, Spencer, and the ghost of Alison’s memory. It was different, though. We all drifted and became different types of people with different types of friends. Small conversations became passing a “hello”, which turned to nothing.

/////////////////////////////<3//////////////////////////////////

Tomorrow marks a year since Ali disappeared. All of these thoughts and memories had been running through my head. I desperately wanted someone who understood to be around. Imagine my surprise seeing Aria walk out of the bathroom with a man way too old for her a few minutes into my shift.

“Aria?” shocked, I stopped in my tracks. The look on her face screams of surprise and embarrassment. The two of them share the same look of embarrassment. I couldn’t help but laugh at the absurdity.

“Come find me when you’re done here,” I say in a playful tone, shaking my head.

A few minutes later is hear the clicking of heels against the floor. Setting down the paperwork in my hands, I look up and see Aria in front of me. It feels like forever that we're sitting there analyzing each other. She looks different. No more pink streak. I remember helping her dye it in my already dye-stained bathroom with some leftover pink I had. I think it was the only time we weren’t silently fighting to be Alison’s best friend.

“I’m so sorry I didn’t say anything,” she said, finally breaking the silence.

“Honestly, I get it. I probably wouldn’t have either. How long have you been back?” I pushed a chair across the table out with my foot and finished the little bit of the accounting paperwork I was doing.

//////////////////////////////<3///////////////////////////////////

We talk for what feels like hours. She talked about Iceland, the man in the bathroom, and everything going on with her family. I talked about Rosewood, my job, the rest of the group, and oddly, Jason. Aria had messaged him a few months ago and he seemed better. I couldn’t pretend I wasn’t jealous. I could have tried, though. After Aria said her goodbyes, I wrote, deleted, and rewrote so many messages to Jason. I wanted him to know I was thinking of him. I didn’t even know if he would want that.

I gave up after half an hour. I packed up my stuff, said goodbye to my uncle and whoever else was left, and walked out. It was 11 pm, and cold. After putting my headphones in, I start walking. I felt a presence during my walk. I felt eyes on me, watching me like I was prey. I felt like my every move was being analyzed. I jumped when I felt my phone buzz. Pulling my phone out of my pocket, I see a text from an unknown number.

‘Missing your lover? Sucks for you Bitch - xo A’

What the fuck?

/////////////////////////////<3//////////////////////////////////

I didn’t sleep last night. Anxiety kept me up. Anxiety about the text and the first day of school. Walking into my English class, I was surprised to see Aria, Emily, Hannah, and Spencer. All of us were in one room for the first time in almost a year. Walking towards Aria and Emily, I take the seat in front of Aria.

“Interesting class lineup,” I jokingly say, turning towards the girls. The bell rings and I turn halfway towards the front of the room. An oddly familiar figure stands in front of the board. As he turns I recognize the man from last night. That’s the guy Aria fucked. I turn my head back to her, wide-eyed, and am met with a similar face. Her eyes get wider as her phone goes off.

////////////////////////////<3/////////////////////////////////

The rest of the day is less eventful. No weird texts, no odd interactions. It was nice to spend the day with Aria and Emily. Work was paperwork, putting in orders, and planning community events the bar was involved in.

Walking towards my house, I see flashing red and blue lights. Speeding up I see ambulances and cop cars in front of Alison’s old house. Walking up to the group of people I spot Spencer away from the group. I stand beside her, Aria appearing next to me soon after.

“I heard the cops took Hannah to the police station today,” Aria said, breaking the silence.

“Wait, you don’t think she’d ever talk about-” Spencer began to ask.

“The Jenna thing?” Hannah interrupted, “ We made a promise”

[starie-leo]

Hi fellow Leo, can you touch on Lilith conjunctions in synastry? Specifically your experience as well. :) I currently have a guys Lilith conjunct my sun.

My Experience With Lilith Synastry

General Meaning:

"Lilith relates to: love-triangles and infidelity, being the other man or woman, sexual allure and attraction; both feminism and misogyny; abortion, miscarriages, infertility; adoption and lost children; outsiders, wildness, taboo-breaking, rule-breaking, sheer outright craziness; wild beauty, wilderness itself and being cast into the wilderness; both inability to love and fierce desire; aloneness; witchcraft and magic; natural power; abuse and retribution. There is more, but suffice to say, I never disregard Lilith when looking at a chart." — https://oxfordastrologer.com

Usually Lilith in a hetero men's chart represents the woman he's both incredibly sexually attracted to, hates and fears, the woman he wants to tame and possess but can't, and Lilith for women represents the dark feminine side, the wild woman archetype, how and where you rebel, break taboos and face punishment, and why and where you get outcasted.

I never actually dated any of the guys I'm talking about but we were friends/in the talking stages. Also I apologize in advance if this is too negative, lilith synastry can have some positives from what I've heard, I personally just never had any unfortunately.

Guy 1: His Leo Lilith Conjunct My Sun

We were friends for a long time and he was very attracted to me — sexually more — and very obsessed with me but he also secretly hated me a lot. He was very possessive and would talk shit about anyone I talked to or was friends with, even though we were just friends and I made it clear that I don't see him in a romantic light. We were similar in terms of toxicity and we also brought out the worst in each other most times. When he first asked me out, I rejected him and he's been bitter ever since. After the rejection, the awkwardness made us fall out with each other for a bit until I saw him again after 2 years and he had a girlfriend at that time too so I thought we could be friends again because I felt bad for what happened. But what I didn't know is that for the time we weren't in touch he was cyberstalking me and was doing the most to tarnish my reputation as a way to get back at me the whole time. His girlfriend hated me a lot too but at that time I didn't know why but later I found out it was cause he would talk about how much he hates me a lot to her and his friends told me he hated me for ignoring him after the rejection (I didn't, he did lol). Then he made a move on me again and he also wanted me to be his side chick so I cut him off for good.

Guy 2: His Virgo Lilith Conjunct My Venus

I was in the talking stage with this guy I met in one of my classes. He was also very attracted to me (once again, more sexually than romantically) and very obsessed right from the start. I wasn't as attracted to him as he was to me. When he asked me out, I said yes and went out with him. After the first date, he started getting all entitled for sex and kept asking me for my nude pictures so I cut him off and ghosted him. A few days later I find out he also had a girl and he was talking shit about me to her and others. Then he broke up with her and started telling everyone and their mother that I'm the one who was desperate to date him and broke up their relationship, obviously none of that was true and I had to clear my name for months. I have yet to receive an apology for this bs >:(.

Final thoughts: This synastry is very sexual, obsessive and intense and in a way is similar to what people consider pluto & 8H synastry. I think lilith synastry really depends on individual charts and can work if both people have a prominent lilith or a lilith conjunction in natal cause then they would know how to handle this kind of energy.

Note: I also had nodal synastry with both of them and I've got natal venus in 12H so that probably played into this too.

@dippindots0

[writtenbyan-aries]

Summary: While at a party with friends, you run into your old 'situationship' and things take a turn for the.. good.. or bad? Find out in this weeks one shot!

Inspired by Zayn - Like I Would | not a request

Summary: SMUT18+, strong language, mentions of smoking weed, alcohol consumption, cheating on partner (which you should NEVER do), secret and rough unprotected sex, oral (f rec), hair pulling, biting, scratching, teasing, just filth

Word count: 5.7 | not edited

╔═══━━━─── • ───━━━═══╗

"Have fun tonight." Your boyfriend, Theo, smiles, "Call me if you need a ride home."

You lean of the window, pecking his lips with yours, "I will, thank you." You smile and sit back, waving to him at your friend, Kya, backs out of the driveway.

"So." She says with a smirk as she starts to drive, "Seems to be going well, don't you think?"

You shrug, a light blush growing on your cheeks, "You can say that." You shrug, "I mean, these last few months, they've been great, but at the same ti-"

"Don't do that." She cuts you off as she shakes her head.

You look at her confused, "Don't do what?"

"Don't do what you always do. Don't look for things to escape. Theo is a great guy.." she lays her hand over her mouth, muffling her words, "Better than the last."

You laugh as you catch what she says, "Yeah, let's not talk about him." You roll your eyes, trying not to think about him, "Theo is a great guy."

"That - whatever that was.." she blows air, "Situationship.. was an absolute disaster." She tills her eyes, "If I see him, I might just punch him."

"Please. It might knock some common sense into him." You shake your head slightly, "He was just an asshole."

But he wasn't a total asshole the whole time.

You felt like there could have been more, should have been more, but he didn't want labels. He didn't want to 'settle down' as he said.

He treated you like a queen, but only when it was just the two of you.

When you confessed that you were catching feelings, mainly to try and save your feelings, which utterly failed in the end, he turned into someone you never thought he would be.

A ghost, figuratively that is.

You didn't hear from him for weeks after, but conveniently right when word got out that you were seeing Theo, you got a text from him, stating a single, ‘Hey’.

But you ignored it.

You had a good thing with Theo, but at the same time, you weren't feeling the passion, the heat, like you were with him.

You knew it was wrong, but you couldn't pinpoint the exact reason as to why you were suddenly missing him, either.

Maybe because what you and him had was secret?

Maybe because it was mainly about sex, and he was really, really good at it?

Who knows, but you needed to get him off of your mind as soon as possible, especially because you want things to progress with Theo.

"Do you think he'll be here tonight?" You look over at Kya and she shrugs, "Doubt it. He's probably leading on some other bimbo-" she looks at you, quickly following up, "Not that you were or are a bimbo, I just-"

You hold your hand up, "I understand, Ky." You laugh slightly, "But I was for falling for him. I should have known."

"We live and we learn." She parks the car, "Now let's go have some fun." She raises her brows as she pulls the keys from the ignition.

You follow her in through the gate, eyes scanning over the slow growing party.

You smile as you see some of your friends, waving as you dance next to them as you move past to make your way into the house.

"You made it!" Leslie squeals as she runs up to you and Kya, "I'm so glad you're here!"

"Thanks for the invite! We love your parties." You smile and look around. She laughs, "Thanks. I love throwing them."

"I'm going to go get a drink, y/n. You coming?" Kya taps your arm and you look at her, "Yes, please."

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

A few drinks and bit of unwinding later, you're sat on the small couch in the corner with a few friends around you.

"Y/n." Leslie nudges your knee from the floor, "How's Theo?" She smirks and the others lean in to listen.

You smile, "We're good. He’s good.." You take a sip of your drink, almost spitting it back into your cup when you see him walk through the door.

"Shit." You whisper to yourself and quickly look around, composing yourself as fast as you can, "Yeah, he's taking me to dinner on Thursday for our five month anniversary."

"That's so sweet." Leslie smiles and lets out a sigh, "I remember when Chase and I first got together, that honeymoon phase never goes away when you're in love with someone you truly love being around everyday."

You kind of ignore them talking. Your focus was mainly on him. You watch as he walks over to the drink area with his friends, smiling that gorgeous smile and laughing that perfect laugh.

He was such a beautiful work of art, and knowing that you couldn't have it actually kind of hurt even more.

You snap back into reality, reminding yourself that you have Theo, and you really liked Theo.

Not as much as him - stop it.

You shake your head, looking over at Kya to try and figure out what they're talking about.

"Isn't that right, y/n?" Kya asks and you blink, "Sorry." You laugh, "What are we talking about?"

"Someone is feeling the alcohol already." She jokes with a laugh, "We were talking about that show that you recommended us. We all love it so far."

"Good Girls? Oh yes. That show is amazing. I'm sad they aren't coming out with another season, they left it with a cliffhanger and I'm still so mad about it." You laugh, taking a sip from your cup.

You finish your drink and rest your arms in your lap, "I'm going to get a drink, anyone else need one?"

"Yeah get me one please." Kya hands you her empty cup and you nod, "What were you drinking?"

"Just get me whatever you're drinking."

You nod and get up, walking over to the drink section. You pour in some liquor, more in your cup than Kya's, before adding some juice.

"Well, well, well."

You close your eyes, taking a quiet deep breath as you set the jug down onto the counter, "What do you want, Colby."

You stay facing away from him, knowing that if you look into his eyes, it'll all go downhill from there.

You tilt your head, thinking that maybe you should. Maybe now's your chance to finally give him a piece of your mind for hurting you.

"Just came to get another drink." He moves next to you and your eyes move over his hand that's rested on the counter as he pours some alcohol into his cup.

"So hey. What's up?" He turns and you look up at him. He chuckles as he takes a sip of his drink, "It's been a while, I know."

"Glad you're aware of that." You raise your brows, picking up the two cups.

"Alright.." he shrugs, ".. Talking about it really isn't my style, but I th-"

You cut him off, "No. no. I'm not.." you sigh, "I have a boyfriend now, Colby."

"I'm aware." Colby sips his drink, "How is Theo, by the way?"

"He's great, actually. I'm super happy with him." You cross your arms, cups still in hand and Colby raises his brows, "Glad to hear it."

You roll your eyes, "what do you really want Colby?" It doesn't occur to you that you already asked him that until it leaves your lips.

"I just thought I'd see what's up, but.." he walks over to you, "I'll just leave you to think about what I really want while I'm lighting up." He winks, taking a few steps away, stopping to turn, "If you still do that, you know where to find me."

"I stopped." You say loud enough for him to hear him. You turn, walking in the opposite direction, "Right when you broke my heart."

You walk back over to your group and Kya sighs, "I was about to send a search party for you. Jesus, I thought you got lost." She sips her drink, groaning as the alcohol touches her tongue, "So good."

"So what did I miss?" You lean back against the couch and look forward, immediately feeling your stomach flip when you see Colby sitting in the patio chair, directly outside of the glass door with the perfect view of you.

Fucking hell.

You pull your phone out, completely ignoring what the girls are filling you in on as you text Theo, Miss you. Wish you were here.

You rest your phone in your lap, crossing your one leg over the other, "No, I seen Janessa the other day, she definitely looked like she had a ring on her finger."

"See! I wasn't the only one!" Leslie says nudging the girl next to her, "Did it look like a big rock?"

You hold your hand out, rocking it back and forth, "Eh. It was a decent size."

Leslie sighs, "All that money and he couldn't afford a decent ring." She scoffs, "I swear if I don't have a big diamond on my hand when the time comes." She laughs, "Kidding. Kidding."

You laugh slightly, running a hand through your hair as your eyes move up to look at Colby again. His eyes are glued on you as he slowly brings the blunt to his lips, inhaling the smoke as he pulls it away.

You want to look away, but this obnoxiously strong hold he - still - has on you, won't allow it.

He tilts his head back, slowly allowing the smoke to leave his lips.

Your phone vibrates in your lap and you tear your eyes away to look down at it. You smile slightly as you read over Theo's text, Miss you too, baby. How's the party going?

You tap the screen, it's alright, just sitting with some friends, nothing too exciting.

You set your phone down, taking a drink. Kya moves in close to you, "I don't.." she clears her throat, lowing her voice to a whisper, "I don't mean to alarm you, but he's here."

"Who?" You play dumb.

She tilts her head, eyes moving in the direction of Colby, "Mr. Situationship." She mumbles through gritted teeth.

"Shut up." You act surprised, "Where?"

"Patio. Smoking with Sam and the others." She lays a hand on your knee, "Are you okay? Do you want to move? Leave? Whatever you want to do."

You lay your hand on hers, "Ky. I'm fine. Promise."

"If you say so." She mumbles moving away. Her attention is quickly taken away by the song that's playing, "Oh I love this song. Come on. Let's dance."

She finishes her drink, looking at you to finish yours. You down your drink, setting it down before standing up.

You couldn't lie, you were feeling pretty good and there was only one person you really wanted to be around right now - And it wasn't the person answering your texts.

Kya takes your hand, lifting them up as she moves her body to the song with a laugh, "I feel so.. happy right now."

"That's the alcohol, my love." You smirk and dance with her, laughing as she dances back to back with you.

Your eyes move to find Colby, who is still sitting on the patio, only this time, his view is blocked by the wall.

You turn away, dancing with Leslie.

For a few songs, you complete forgot about what you were feeling. You felt happy, free, like you can finally breathe for once.

You walk over to the couch, plopping down as you laugh, "I didn't know how much I needed this."

"You deserve it. You've been working hard these last few weeks, you need time to just relax, or take a few shots and party it up." Kya laughs and you sigh, "Is that you saying you want to take shots?"

"Yes!" She laughs, "Come on!"

You get up, following her to the counter. She sits out a few solo cups, only pouring a little bit of liquid in each before looking around to call over Leslie and the other girls.

You knew you were being watched.

You knew that what you wanted to do wasn't good.

But you wanted to get back at him, show him what he lost. Even though your little black dress does a lot, you still wanted to add to it.

"Here's to those who wish us well, all the rest can go to hell." Kya laughs and you all clink the plastic cups together before downing the shots.

"I know I'm working my way to being drunk because that didn't taste as bad as it usually does." Leslie laughs setting her cup down, "Hit us again, Ky."

Your eyes move from the cups, up across the living room scattered with people. But your eyes know who they're looking for, and they find him almost instantly.

Colby's sitting in the chair, calf rested on his other knee. He taps his cup on the arm rest, tilting his head, knowingly getting under your skin.

"It's cold hearted." You mouth to him subtly, hoping he'd pick it up.

And he did, because he mouths back, "what's cold hearted?"

You raise your finger off of the cup Kya gives you, directing it to him, "You."

You turn your attention back to the girls, sighing as you laugh at Leslie gives the cheers this time. You take your shot, closing your eyes as you breathe out, "You picked the strongest liquor?"

"Why not." Kya laughs and wraps her hand around your wrist, "Let's dance again."

"I have to go to the bathroom, but I'll find you after." You sit your cup down, watching as they push their way through the crowd to get to the center of the dance floor.

You laugh, shaking your head as you look around to find the bathroom. You frown, not knowing where they were so you walk up to a random person, "Excuse me.. do you know where the bathroom is?"

The girl smiles and nods, "Yeah, there's one down here, right over there." She points, "..and then there's another one upstairs, second or third door on the right I think."

You smile, "Thank you!"

She gives you another smile before you walk to the bathroom that's downstairs. You knock and there's a girls voice on the other side, "Give me a second."

You could hear giggling, from here and someone else. You sigh, knowing that it won't just be a minute. You turn around, making your way to the staircase.

You walk up, turning to the right and silently counting the doors in your head, "Please be open." You mumble as you bring your hand up to knock.

Before your knuckles can make contact, the door swings open and to your shock, Colby is standing there with a smirk on his face, "So we meet again. Nice."

"If I can just pee in peace, please. That would be nice." You cross your arms, nervous to make eye contact. Colby walks out, motioning to you that the bathroom is all yours.

"Can we talk when you're done?"

You stop closing the door and you look up at him, "Why?" He stares at you, "Because I have some things I want to say."

"Mm. I'll think about it." You close the door, locking it as soon as it latches shut. You rest your hands on the sink looking at yourself in the mirror.

"What am I doing?" You mouth weakly to yourself.

Seeing Colby again, has opening up a new feeling.

Or, reigniting past feelings.

You sit down to pee, mind racing as to what Colby wanted to talk about. You knew you couldn't be alone with him, that's just an ingredient to the disaster recipe.

As you stand up, moving over to wash your hands. As you stare at the water running over your hands, you smirk slightly as your mind starts to replay the last time you and Colby had sex.

You gasp quietly - Theo. You dry your hands, pulling out your phone to see texts from him.

That sounds exciting.

You alright?

I might fall asleep, but just call me if you need a ride home or not. I'll wake up. I promise.

Your slightly drunken heart sinks a little as you tap the screen, Sorry babe, I was dancing with Kya and Leslie. I'll call you when we're ready to leave.

You drop your phone back into your bag and give yourself one last look before opening the door.

Colby is still there, leaning up against the wall. He looks up at you and smiles.

You roll your eyes, "You're so fucking persistent."

"You weren't saying that a few months ago." He smirks and you shake your head, "Colby.." you pause, trying not to let your newly old feelings take over, "I have a boyfriend."

"I know, you've said that already.." He pushes himself off the wall and walks over, "A few times actually."

You shake your head, "It's late.. I need to go."

"Can we just- listen. I'm wired right now, and I just need - look, I know it's late, but I saw your face and got inspired t-"

"Inspired?" You laugh cutting him short, "What does that even mean?"

"Inspired to tell you how I really feel."

"About what?" You chew on the inside of your lip as you look up at him. He moves his finger back and forth from you to him and you nod slowly, "Right, right. But where was this when I told you I how I felt?"

"I wasn't.. I wasn't ready for something serious." He admits.

"You mean, you didn't want to be-" you put air quotes, "- tied down."

He looks at you, moving closer, "Look.. I-"

"Colby." You take a deep breath, batting his rising hand away from your face, "I can't.. do this."

"Do what, y/n?" He asks, tilting his head as he crosses his arms, "Come back to me?"

"I'm past that." You mumble, "I can't just.. I have a boyfriend, Colby."

"You keep saying." He nods, "I'm not asking to fuck. I'm asking to just talk to you. Let you know that seeing your face tonight completely changed how I- well, how I thought I felt about you."

You feel your heart thump in your chest as you don't know what to say. Your eyes search the floor as you sigh, "I have a boyfriend, I let what we had in the past go."

He purses his lips, "Did you?" He chuckles, "Because what you did down there..." he shrugs, "To me, that looked like you wanted my attention."

"I'm just having fun with my friends." You lie with a shrug, "Thats all."

"Well then.." he drops his hands, stepping back as he motions down the hall, "I guess you're good to go, then."

"Mm, like I said. Cold hearted." You go to walk away but he grabs your arm, pulling you back. You scoff and look up at him, pulling your arm away from him, "What the fuck are you doing?"

"Look. Y/n. This is probably going to sound wrong, but just give me one minute .. I promise it won't last long."

You stare up at him, silently giving him a minute to talk.

He slowly moves his body closer to yours, "if we can't go back, you know, to the day that I just-"

"Ghosted me?" You ask raising your brows and he nods, "I just thought you'd like to know something."

You look up and back to him. You should just walk away. Go find Kya and call Theo, but it's like you're frozen in time.

Nothing matters right now but listening to what Colby has to say.

"What?" You slowly look up at him and a smirk toys with his lips, "I just thought you'd like to know that he won't touch you like I would."

You snap your head back, "what?"

He nods, backing you up slowly into the wall, hands on either side of your head, "He won't love you like I would."

"Does he know your body? Because I don't think he truly does." Colby's finger gently drags down over your collar bone and you close your eyes at the touch.

"He doesn't know your body, he don't do you right." He chuckles quietly as he tilts your chin up to force you to look at him, "He won't, he can't."

"You don't know him, Colby." You snap, "You know nothing about him."

Colby's eyes scan over your face, "I just know that he won't love you like I would." His thumb rubs over your bottom lip, smudging your lipstick slightly, "It's okay to want me."

"I ca-"

"Cause I want you." He cuts you off, "I know you've been thinking it over.. you can't lie about that. I know the way it ended wasn't the best, but when we were together, in bed or watching a movie.. it was good. So fucking good."

You tilt your head away, "But I'm through, Colby. I'm through with it. From what it seemed, you didn't want to give me what Theo wanted to. A possible future, public appearances. Fuck, Colby."

You lay your palms on your forehead, "Just. Stop. Stop waiting my time. Stop messing with my fucking head." You move your hands, looking up at him, "That's what I mean when I said you were cold hearted. You have no idea what you do to me."

You duck under his arm, walking towards the steps as you try and fix your smudged lipstick when you suddenly stop.

Your mind racing a mile a minute as you try not to give in to the bad things you know you shouldn't do.

"He won't touch you like I would."

"He won't love you like I would."

"He doesn't know your body, he don't do you right."

"I just know that he won't love you like I would."

You turn around, marching towards him, "where was this three, four months ago when I confessed my love for you? What's was all of this when I was ready to give everything to you?" You're standing so close to him you can smell the liquor on his breath, "Huh!?"

"I-I wasn't ready then."

"But you're ready now? Or ready when you seen that I was done being someone you can booty call at two am when you're lonely and want to get your dick wet. I see."

He stands there, looking down at you as you continue, "all of this.. he won't do this he can't do that like you could, what the fuck. What the actual fuck Colby."

"It's the truth." He shrugs, "I don't know what you want me to say. I'm not lying about it." His hand brushes up your arm and your heads both snap to the stairs as you hear people coming up laughing.

He quickly pushes you against a door, opening it as he pushes you into it.

You stand there, watching as he closes it quickly and quietly, flipping the lock on the knob, "Does he know how much you like to be worshiped?"

You clench your jaw.

"Does he know about the little spot on your neck that you just absolutely love when his tongue runs over it?" He steps closer to you, "does he know that two fingers slipping slowly in and out of that pussy teases the ever loving shit out of you, but you love it so much you can't help but to just endure it?"

He walks over to you, "Does he know how much you love to be bent over, being fucked from behind as you get told how much of a good girl you are for taking him?"

He walks up, tilting your head up to look at him, "Does he know your coffee order? French vanilla with two cream, three sugar?"

You can feel your heart beating faster as your eyes begin to burn - colby did pay attention to you.

"Or what about the movie you can never get sick of? Does he watch that with you every time you come over just to see you smile and hear that beautiful laugh?"

"Do you want me to keep going?" He licks his lips, eyes bouncing between yours, "Tell me to stop, and I'll stop."

You say nothing, curious as to what else he has to say.

"Does he know what little things turn you on?" His hand slides down, slowly squeezing the front of your neck, "Does he know what you don't like?"

He tilts his head, "Your silence tells me that everything I need to know."

"What do you know exactly?" You ask quietly, eyes moving to look at him.

"Exactly what I said." He walks you back wards a few steps and you knees buckle as they hit the edge of the bed, "He don't touch you like I did. Know your body like I do. He doesn't love you like I did, like I do."

You sit down, Colby's hand still on your neck, "Like I said. Tell me to stop and I will." He leans in, slowly closing the space between you.

You rest your fingertips on his cheek, your breathing is rapid, "Colby.." Your voice is quiet, "I-I.."

You so badly want to say no, but you feel like you physically cant, "How do I know you're not just saying these things."

He doesn't say anything for a few moments, his hand releases from your neck as he moves down to kneel in between your knees, "Why would I remember everything about you, the way you liked to be touch, a simple coffee order.. if I wasn't going to try and get you back?"

"All the months, the days that went by Colby.. I just.." you tilt your head back, the burn in your eyes returning.

"I- I loved you, Colby." You look at him, your hand moving to lay on the front of his neck. He tilts his head back, still maintaining eye contact with you as you squeeze slightly, "Why did you make me fall in love with you if you were just going to leave me?"

He places his hands on your cheeks, cupping your face, "I was scared. I was scared to open up completely to someone. The more time I spent with you, the more I let my fear get the best of me."

"You could have just told me that." You shake your head, "I don't.. I don't understand what made it so hard for you to-"

"I don't know either, okay." He says cutting you off, "But I'm telling you now. Right here." He pulls you in, his lips brushing against yours, "Right now."

You close your eyes, "But Theo.."

"Screw him, he doesn't know anything about you." Colby shakes his head, "But I know you."

You knew he was right.

You also knew that he knew what you wanted to do.

"Our situationship ended in a disaster, Colby." You laugh slightly as you look at him, "Maybe not for you. And then the whole, what was it, oh.." you roll your eyes, "yeah, the whole hey message right when it got out I was with Theo."

"I hated seeing you with someone else."

"Why?" Your eyes meet his and he rubs his thumb over your cheek, "Because I wanted you to be with me, you're made for me."

His words have an effect on you, and not the I'm lying just to get into your pants effect, but the so this is love effect.

"Do you want me to stop?" Colby asks quietly as he lays his hands on your thighs.

You lay your hands on his, "Are you going to ghost me again?"

"Never." He shakes his head, rubbing his fingers over your skin, "Never again."

You cup his cheeks as you spread your legs open slowly, "Prove it."

He's quick to act, pushing your dress up to lay around your hips as you lay back. You bring your legs up and his grips your thigh, using his other hand pull your panties to the side.

He leans in, pushing his tongue into you with a groan.

You gasp, eyes rolling back as you place a hand on his head. Your leg goes over his shoulder, pulling him closer.

You missed how good he made you feel, more importantly, you missed him.

"Colby." You moan out quietly as you look down at him. He locks eyes with yours, staring up at you as his tongue moves in and out.

He leans back, "I missed you so much." He moves up next to you, lying on his side as he leans down to kiss you.

His hand moves down your body as he gently rubs two fingers up and down your slit before slowly pushing them in.

You gasp, gripping the sheets of the random bed under you, "I missed you." Your hand goes to his cheek as his fingers move slow, doing what you love.

"What did you miss?" He presses a kiss to your forehead, "Hmm."

"You." Your breath shutters as he pushes his fingers in as far as they'll go, "Everything."

"Like what, darlin'?" Colby watches you, biting his lip as you roll your hips against his hand. You moan quietly, "all the ways.. you make me feel good."

"If you come back to me, I can do it everyday." He leans down, kissing down your neck, "Any time you want."

Your lips part as his tongue runs over the specific spot he mentioned, earning a gasp from you.

He smirks, "See, I know you."

He pulls his fingers out, bringing them up to your lips. You part them, eyes on his as your tongue swirls around them.

"You're so beautiful." He bites his lip, "Tasting yourself off my fingers."

You smile, tilting your head back. He grips your chin, leaning down to kiss you before standing up to shrug off his jean jacket.

You sit up, pulling the straps of your dress down your shoulders, "what are you layering up for winter or something?"

He chuckles, "I came here for one thing, and it wasn't to party." He winks as he pulls off his crew neck, "..so I wasn't really worried about dressing for it."

Your eyes scan over his bare torso, "What did you come here for?"

He chuckles, tilting his head as he slips his fingers into the band of his matching sweats, "I think you know."

"Do I?" You tease and he steps out of them, walking over to you. He leans down, moving his body over yours as you lay back, "Why don't I just show you."

Your lips part as the tip of his cock pushes up against you, "Don't be gentle."

"That was my next question." He smirks as he rests his arm under your knee, holding your leg up as he slides his cock into you.

Your brows furrow as your nails dig into his shoulder, "Fuck, fuck." You clench around him, earning a groan from his lips, "Fuck, I've missed how you feel around me."

He leans down, connecting his lips to yours as he slowly pulls out. He thrusts back in, quickly picking up a punishing pace.

He kisses down your neck, moaning into it as your nails drag up his back, "Colby.." you whimper, wrapping your other leg around his waist, "Fuck, fuck."

Colby bites your neck, sucking in a mark that you most likely find until later.

"You're made for me." He groans lowly, "You belong with me."

"I belong with you." You moan out as you lay your hand on his cheek, "I love you. I've always loved you."

His lips meet yours as his arm drops your leg, his hand moving to wrap around your neck, "You've always been such a good little slut for me."

You moan at his words, "always you."

He leans up, hands gripping your hips as he thrusts, "Fuck, fuck. Roll over for me." He pulls out and you push yourself over, moving your hips up.

"That's my girl." His hands run over your ass, sliding up to grip your hips as he moves behind you. He lines himself up, thrusting into you slowly as he leans down.

His lips plant kisses on your shoulder and across your upper back to the other, "I'm never letting you go again."

You grip the blanket, pulling as he pushes his cock into you. You whimper, pushing your hips back, "You feel so good."

Colby slides his hand up your back, making a pony tail of your hair take with his hand.

Your mouth opens, eyes rolling back as he pulls your head back more, "such a good girl." He starts to thrust, slow and hard, "Taking my cock so well again."

You moan, squeezing his cock as he brings you close to orgasm, "Close.. s-so close."

"Go on baby, show me how good I make you feel." Colby's voice is low, "Let me hear those pretty sounds."

A string of moans leaves by our lips as he pounds into you, guiding you through your high. His hand slips around, tightening around your neck, "that's it, baby."

He nips your ear, "So fucking good." He rests his forehead against your head, "You're gonna make me cum."

He leans up, bringing a hand down to smack on your ass. He runs his thumb over the forming red hand print, "Fuck, fuck."

He thrusts grow sloppy, quickly slowly down as you feel him twitch inside of you. 

It's quiet, all but the sound of heavy breathing.

Colby finds something to clean up with, walking over to gently wipe you off, "Are you okay?" He helps you sit up and you smile, "Yeah, why wouldn't I be?"

"I didn't mean with us.. I mean.." he purses his lips and your eyes go wide, "Oh fuck, Theo."

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

Thank you for reading! As always, let me know how you liked it!

Love you all! 🖤

Likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

[ghcstao3]

marine biologist/diver!ghost x selkie!soap au Thoughts

marine biologist ghost who, whenever he has spare time, will go diving with some colleagues to collect trash from the ocean—because maybe it doesn’t make a huge, immediate impact, but it still means something is being done.

then one day while diving, ghost is accompanied by a seal. at first it only observes, and ghost is plenty happy to admire from afar, but then the seal is cozying up to him. it latches onto his leg, nudges him with its snout—even directs ghost and his group to trash that’s otherwise pretty well hidden, wedged beneath coral and rocks and sand.

it saddens ghost, just a little, when the sky starts getting dark and they have to head back. he doesn’t want to abandon his new friend—it’s rare they have wildlife hang around for this long—but unfortunately it’s not safe to wait any longer before going home.

but then the next time they’re able to go diving, the seal is there again. it plays at the same routine, helping out and goofing around, sticking dutifully by ghost’s side even when there’s others along with him. and time after time, it’s the same thing. no matter where the group is, the seal somehow always finds him. they end up lending it the nickname soap, after the odd amount of empty bottles of cleaning products the seal seems to locate for them.

it’s maybe a few months later that soap doesn’t show up, and it’s an instant cause for concern; there’s no reason soap should be missing. they’re in a similar area that the seal likely frequents, there’s no reason for soap to have moved or be huddled away with other seals to have pups.

the group worries, but there’s nothing they can do but theorize and assume as they carry out their regular chore. it’s only a once-off, by this point. maybe soap just didn’t feel like coming out to play just this one time.

but it happens again and again. soap doesn’t appear once, and it has the group of scientists worried sick. but without a tracker, or even a real idea of where soap might frequent when he’s not helping the group, there’s nothing they can do.

they return to shore later than usual one night. it’s completely dark by the time they dock, and ghost waves everyone ahead to go home because they’re all tired, he can manage clean-up by himself.

ghost is just about finished packing up when he sees the figure at the end of the dock. the marina is like a ghost town otherwise, nothing but the sound of turning waves and boats gentle bumping up against the port. ghost approaches slowly, not knowing what other business one could possibly have at the water this late.

“you lost, mate?” ghost wonders cautiously.

the figure steps closer, silver moonlight revealing some of his features. the man looks about ghost’s age, maybe younger—only it’s hard to tell with the haggard look on his face, as he nervously wrings his fingers and avoids ghost’s gaze.

“i’m… sorry i haven’t been around,” he apologizes, and ghost frowns. “someone… someone took my coat.”

ghost’s brow furrows. “i don’t… your coat? i’m not sure i underst—“

“my coat,” the man affirms. “i need it to swim. which is why i haven’t been able to help lately.”

not certain how it’s possible, ghost grows even more confused. he doesn’t get it—a coat to swim? being able to help? nothing makes sense.

“you’ve lost me,” ghost says, shaking his head. “wish i could help, but—“

as ghost tries to push past, the man seizes his arm. he peers up at ghost pleadingly, and while ghost had wanted to conclude the man was drunk or high or something—he hesitates, seeing that look.

“have you ever heard of selkies?” the man asks, an edge of desperation in his voice.

ghost shrugs. “sure i have.” he’s hardly well-versed in mythical creatures, but he knows the gist.

the man doesn’t say anything—just continues to look at ghost with those sad eyes, a plea for understanding like an explanation couldn’t be spoken aloud. so ghost thinks on it a moment.

the coat, the inability to swim without it. not helping out and not being there starting to sound like a reference to soap. to the seal.

ghost’s eyebrows nearly raise to his hairline in disbelief.

“you’re not really saying you’re soap, are you?”

maybe-soap frowns. “who’s that?”

right. “i mean the seal that’s been following our diving trips,” ghost clarifies. “and you’re saying… because your coat is gone—“

“taken,” soap corrects, “i couldn’t go. i wanted to find you, but i didn’t know how, and… and…”

soap looks frazzled, like his brain has disconnected from his mouth and hands in empty gestures in words trying to convey what he’s thinking.

ghost tentatively sets his crate of gear on the wooden planks of the dock before placing his hands on either one of soap’s shoulders. maybe the story isn’t all there, and maybe there’s still doubt in ghost’s head about any of it being the truth—but ultimately, ghost believes the man. believes it’s soap.

slowly, ghost says, “calm down, and tell me how i can help. we’ll get your coat back, yeah?”

soap offers him a shy, watery smile—but a smile nonetheless. he nods and begins to tell ghost everything.

it doesn’t take long before they’re hatching a plan to win back soap’s freedom.

[anonmousegosqueak]

From my poly 141 meet the McTavish ask I wanted to add a few things :)

Origins:

It started as a NikPrice, the two kinda locked in and didn’t move from "friends who are a little closer than just work", until one night they both got decently drunk and made out sloppy and then kinda grinded each otherer' thing rather than exactly fucking.

The morning after they didn’t say a word about it (mainly because while Price barely remembered the sensations and Nik had forgotten half of the things that happened), then a few years later Price met Gaz and the whole MWI happens.

Gaz is kinda into Price (he has his pan awakening from Price, like the mf barely had a few girlfriends when he was still in school, had something short when he first got into the military but then gave up until this DILF shows up and seems to be single) and somehow they end up only half drunk making out in bed. That morning after they kinda have to talk and it can be resumed into "let's keep having a professional relationship and ignore this thing since it happened once and never again".

The never again part hets ignored around a couple of weeks later and they both weren't drunk enough to forget it. In any way. The problem arises when the third time Nik is with them.

Threesome!😇 It's a one time thing and they are all too embarassed to talk about it… you emotionally constipated men…

When Ghost gets into the 141 NikGazPrice is kinda established but at the same time it's not. Like yeah, they may have fucked twice, but it was for relief and nothing else I swear… Until slowly, fucking slowly and months later Ghost realizes he may have some feelings… He hates it, he tries to close himself from acknowledging that he has a crush on… his captain? Serganet? Pilot? Why the fuck does he blush when he sees the three of them toghetger?! It's clearly not envy, and not disgust either, but he kinda wants to be either them or with them.

So slowly (yeah, again) he starts showing a bit more affection. A helping hand here, a compliment there. They don't exactly emd up fucking (yeah, those are a bit out of the ordinary, they are half naked, Ghost is not showing his face yet and is the most dressed one but still tries despite the trauma (TM) and other stuff between the four of them.

MWII! Ghost has to be separed from his lovers stress helpers for a whole week, and call him crazy but Soap is clearly flirting with him. And his genius panic and blushing part is flirting back!?

Oh god… oh no…

Oh.

Oh.

Yeah, he kinda talked about it after the mission and when they went to kill graves he wanted to show something more than just words and soft touches. Even for Johnny. Because of Johnny.

Roach is in MWIII and the story is fucked enough alredy so adding him would only improve shit.

NOBODY DIES. NOT A CHANCE!

Behb

I'm sorry, but what am I supposed to add?! This is amazing! You've covered all the bases, wrote internal dialog, *everything.*

Y'all gotta stop out-doing me in these asks .⁠·⁠´⁠¯⁠`⁠(⁠>⁠▂⁠<⁠)⁠´⁠¯⁠`⁠·⁠.

To call me an author, complement my art, and then turn around and write *this*? As an ask?!

I genuinely don't have anything to add so I'm just gonna say: Y'ALL SHOULD GO CHECK OUT @writer-fennec . I dunno what kinda reach I have but still, if someone reading this goes "dang, that was good" and you hadn't seen their stuff before, go check 'em out. (Also yes, no one dies. Correct. No notes.)