#i’m so normal about camaraderie
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cirr0stratus · 5 months ago
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mutual going Through It over 1917. should i tell mutual i have drawn so much of those gay freaks. should i post it. mutual i have a 1917 poster in my room.
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When a customer jumps to wild conclusions about your motives when you forget to do something you always have trouble remembering to do; because your checkout routine was disrupted and/or ran very, very long; and still makes a fuss over it when you are willing to, and actually do, fix the issue, scolding you for it throughout…
Over (at the absolute highest) five dollars off on a two-hundred dollar purchase. Wow.
I mean, yeah, I fucked up; but it was an honest mistake, I felt gutted bad about it, and ultimately I corrected the error, so I’m good right?
I wish she hadn’t walked out before I could apologize formally though. I don’t like hurting people.
#retail hell#this happened awhile ago but d a m n#I won’t give specifics but it ended with me working through tears for the rest of the day and my nose running all over my inner mask so…#that was fun#not to mention the fact that she basically voiced one of my intrusive thoughts JUST as I was starting to not think so much about it#and just behave normally around people with a decent sense of awareness about stuff#in fact that was the very first time I wasn’t thinking about it#I won’t say it’s just women but I will say this:#I have yet to be talked to with the “I’m putting you in time-out “ voice by a man#maybe it’s because women see me as a young person who could be their teenage daughter and feel enough of a sense of camaraderie with me#that they are comfortable yelling at me as if I am a member of their family#or they could just be rude and hostile toward retail employees in general#I’d rather not assume things though#some days I wish I had a formal diagnosis for my Weird Brain Stuff so I could explain that#I have nothing against you; I’m half-aware and running on fumes 24/7#my short term memory sucks ass#I set my designated store mask somewhere when I got home a week ago and now I can’t find it#I lose my stylus(es) at least once a month#I have to ask my coworkers what they said fifty times over because my brain shakes itself like an Etch-A-Sketch when I go to do the thing#it is literally pathetic#neurodivergent problems#not being believed is something else istg
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wttcsms · 13 days ago
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come right on me (i mean camaraderie!)
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ᝰ.ᐟ starting a new job is scary, especially when it seems like you can’t do anything correctly. good thing that your manager is always so kind and reassuring and supportive. when a client meeting ends terribly and runs so late that the two of you have to check into a hotel to spend the night, your sweet manager knows a good way to cheer you up… ( fem!reader )
pairing tetsurou kuroo x reader word count 4.9k content contains praise kink, oh no!!! there's only one bed!!!, coworkers/power imbalance (he's your manager, you're the newest and youngest member on the team), slight manipulation from kuroo (he's aware of your crush on him and uses your admiration as leverage), occasionally refers to you as his kouhai, you call him kuroo-senpai, creampie, sex in an enclosed, semi-public space (the office's supply closet), first time blowjobs kinktober masterlist
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If you had known that your transfer would have resulted in you getting fucked boneless in the supply closet of the company you work for…
Well, you would have announced your job transfer a little bit sooner.
“Kuroo— Ah!” You let out a helpless yelp as you feel Kuroo’s teeth bite down on the soft part of your shoulder, sure to leave a mark. “K-Kuroo, slow down!”
“Kuroo? Really?” He snarls, lifting his head up to glare down at you. “Tsk, and here I thought you were a star employee. Is that any way to speak to your manager, or is it because you’re moving that you’re deciding to drop the formalities?” 
Your heart drops at the sound of Kuroo seemingly dissatisfied with you. Out of everyone in this office, he’s always been the one to root for you the hardest. You look up to him! Even when he’s upset, all you want to do is make him feel better. Just like how he made you feel better that time after that horrendous client meeting last month…
“Kuroo-senpai,” you mutter out, avoiding staring at him entirely. “I’m sorry.”
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You’re bowing your head in apology, but Kuroo merely laughs, shaking his head.
“Don’t apologize. These things happen.” Kuroo is smiling, and from the crinkle of his eye and the carefree tone he’s using, it’s genuine. Kuroo isn’t upset with you, and somehow, this only makes you feel worse.
“But I ruined the meeting.” You remind him. “I stuttered when speaking to the client, and then I totally didn’t know how to properly react whenever he—” 
This is when Kuroo’s friendly demeanor darkens. “There would be no proper reaction to what he said.” The client, an older man who’s been working for so long in corporate Japan that back in his day, women could only serve as secretaries and belittled assistants, had made a less-than-savory remark on you and the way your pencil skirt hugs your figure. It had been a test of self-restraint for Kuroo to remain civil and smiling and to not punch him from across the table, but you don’t know that. “Our company shouldn’t sign contracts with men like him, anyway. I’ll write up everything in the report, and you won’t get reprimanded at all, okay?” He’s back to his normal, cheery self, and you nod.
Kuroo always knows what to do. 
And in your case, Kuroo is always making you feel better for being inadequate. A fresh college graduate, it’s a wonder how you managed to snag a position on one of the marketing teams for Japan’s Volleyball Association. Now, in your head, it’s a wonder how you manage to keep the damn position. You just can’t seem to do anything right, and even your coworkers are no longer shy in shaking their heads and sighing every time you mess something up. 
The only person who doesn’t seem to mind the little mistakes you make or the minor trouble you cause is Tetsurou Kuroo, the official unofficial golden boy of the sports promotion division. He’s a bit older than you, but still one of the youngest members belonging to the JVA’s marketing and promotional division. Already, there’s whispers about how Kuroo is most likely going to move up the hierarchy and soon — the Chief of Public Relations position will be opening up due to an early retirement from the current chief, and everyone knows that Kuroo has connections with a majority of the monster generation; not to mention, he’s charming enough to get everyone to go along with what he says.
You admire your senior colleague greatly, and because of your admiration and the fact that he’s the most sympathetic towards you, causing him trouble always makes you feel ten times worse than when you normally mess up. Even if he tells you everything is alright, you’re still frowning, staring down at your shoes. 
“Ah, shit.” Kuroo curses, staring up at the darkening sky as rain starts to descend down on the two of you. “Looks like the storm is coming early.” 
“It’s more like we’re just running late.” You say miserably. Because of you, the client meeting dragged on for even longer than scheduled, and the two of you were already running on a tight enough schedule as is. The JVA needed to secure a contract with a sneaker company to do some joint collaboration billboards, and even with a major thunderstorm predicted for this evening, the company was convinced Kuroo would be able to wrap up the meeting (successfully) and get the both of you on the train home before the storm came.
Now, though, it’s later than when you two were supposed to catch the train, and with the way the weather is worsening at such a rapid speed, it seems like making it to the train station before the last one runs will be impossible. 
“Follow me.” Kuroo tells you, trying to be heard over the wind. You nod, but you don’t expect him to grab your hand. With the wind whipping in your face and the chill of rain soaking through your work clothes, Kuroo’s hand is surprisingly warm. You allow yourself to be practically dragged behind him as he jogs to the nearest inn. Even in a soaked suit, running against the storm’s wind, Kuroo still manages to hold his own just fine. You’re glad his back is turned to you; at least this way, you can admire his athleticism in private.
Kuroo leads the two of you into a nearby hotel. The place looks fancy; way out of your budget. You feel bad as you practically stand there awkwardly, wetting the nice, expensive looking marble floors of the hotel while Kuroo talks to the woman up front. You notice that she’s biting her lip, eyeing the way the fabric of Kuroo’s suit clings to his body because of the rainwater. It only serves to emphasize the muscles he continues to maintain despite no longer playing the sport he’s paid to promote. Seeing the way she’s admiring him gives you a weird feeling inside, so you turn away, avoiding looking at them. 
“Bad news.” Kuroo runs a hand through the wet strands of his hair. “Turns out they’re fully booked. There’s only one room left, but it’s a couple’s suite.”
“Oh.” It makes sense that the two of you would have to spend the night in the city. The trains have probably stopped running now, and with the storm, it’s only reasonable to just wait it out ‘til the morning. “Well… A couple’s suite should be big enough, right?” 
“Space wise, yes.” Kuroo clears his throat. “But it’s for couples. There’s only going to be one bed.” 
Oh. 
You feel heat rising to your cheeks as you let this information sink in. A fancy hotel. A fancy hotel with a fancy couple’s suite. A fancy hotel with a fancy couple’s suite that only has one bed. And you’re with Kuroo, your very kind, understanding coworker. Your senior colleague. Your manager. Your totally hot manager. 
“What should we do?” You peer up at him, looking at him for the solution. You don’t know it, but he loves the face you make when you’re asking him for help. Your eyes go all wide and seek him out, eagerly awaiting for him to guide you.
“You can have the room. This isn’t the only hotel in existence, so I’ll probably head out and try to find a room somewhere else.” 
“No!” You’re shocked he would even want to go back out in this storm. Your exclamation is literally punctuated with the crack of thunder booming from the sky. “You can’t go back out there.” And because you’re aware of how rude your outburst was, you soften your voice. “Kuroo-senpai, I don’t think it would be reasonable for you to put yourself in harm’s way. We’re both adults, right? I… I don’t mind— We can just figure out the sleeping arrangements when we get into the room?” 
Kuroo smiles. 
“My kouhai has a point. You’re always so sharp, [Name].” 
You don’t know why, but despite the chill of your wet clothes and the air conditioning of the hotel lobby, you feel a warmth settling in your tummy and rising all the way to your chest as you let Kuroo’s praise blanket you. 
For a couple’s suite, there really isn’t much space to work with. The bed takes up most of the room, a grand king-sized mattress, plenty of space for two people to sleep on (and with each other). There’s a tiny loveseat in the corner that might just have been there for decoration or the opportunity to try out a different position, you’re not quite sure. The bathroom is connected, and the place has rose petals all over the floor and floral scented candles lit up. 
Kuroo lets out a whistle. “They weren’t kidding when they said couple’s suite.” 
You can only nod in agreement. 
“Do you wanna shower first?” The minute Kuroo suggests this, you’re instantly aware of just how wet your clothes are. Your white blouse is clinging to your skin, and when you look down slowly, you’re horrified to realize just how transparent the material got when drenched. Before you can get too embarrassed over the situation, Kuroo puts you (or tries to, anyway) at ease, just like he always does. “I’m glad no one else was in the lobby when we came, because I’m sure I look a mess.”
A hot mess, maybe. And hot in the sense that Kuroo looks too good right now. He looks like he just came straight out of a designer cologne ad or something. 
“Y-you can shower first.” You manage to squeak out. “It’s only fair. You’re the one who’s been doing most of the work all day.” 
While Kuroo’s in the bathroom, you’re practically spiraling. How are the two of you going to explain the charge of a couple’s suite on the company credit card? It wouldn’t have been so weird if you had been with one of your female managers or vice versa, but you and Kuroo are the closest in age to each other. The meeting dragged out for far longer than originally planned, and you’re worried about how the two of you will be perceived. If anything, Kuroo has the most to lose. Any enemies of his could easily use this as a way to stop him from getting his well deserved promotion. Oh God, you definitely ruined his shot at promotion. You’re terrible. You’re—
“Seems like someone’s thinking a little too hard.” Kuroo’s teasing tone pulls you from your rapid fire overthinking. 
You wish you hadn’t looked up. Standing in front of you is a shirtless Kuroo, his abs tight and glistening with droplets of water left over from his shower. The white towel is wrapped around his waist, but the view he’s providing is already enough to make you acutely aware of the fact that Kuroo is a man. His normally uncontrollable hair is weighed down with water, damp strands hanging in his face. And he has the nerve to just stand in front of you so casually, as if he isn’t practically naked! 
Maybe you’re the weird one. Great. So you’re practically eye-fucking your manager after despairing over how you basically might be the reason why he’s going to miss out on a great job opportunity. Right after you performed horribly during a client meeting, and then made him save you by finding you shelter in a very nice hotel. 
“I’m the worst.” You groan, frowning as you look up at him. 
“Hey, don’t say that.” He frowns right back at you. “That’s not true at all.” 
“You’re just saying that because you’re nice.” 
He lets out a short, sharp laugh. “A lot of people wouldn’t call me nice. It’s sweet that you would, though.” 
“How can that be true? Kuroo-senpai is the nicest person to me at work!” 
“Am I really?” You don’t notice how dangerous the glint in his eyes are, but you do have enough intuition to sense a shift in his demeanor. “Do you like that your senpai is so nice to you?” 
You don’t know what you do to him. It’s why you don’t realize how you’re essentially unchaining the beast locked up inside of him as you reply, “I like everything about Kuroo-senpai.” 
“I’m glad to hear that, because I like everything about my little kouhai, too.” 
Your eyes widen at this confession. The butterflies in your tummy are doing cartwheels right now. You can’t believe what you’re hearing, what you’re seeing. Are you hallucinating right now? That’s the only reasonable conclusion, but as Kuroo leans forward, you find yourself leaning a bit further back, just on instinct. He’s so much larger than you, more imposing. You feel like you have to shrink when he starts to close the distance between the two of you. He places his hands on the mattress you’re sitting on, effectively caging you in between his arms as he leans down even closer to you. So close that a drop of water from his hair lands right on your thigh. 
“Do you like me enough to let me kiss you?” 
Apparently, you like him enough to let him do much more than just kiss you. The kisses start off gentle enough. His lips are a bit chapped, but you like the feel of them against your much softer ones. He swallows up your little desperate whimpers, and he moves at a pace you can adapt to. When he notices you getting more confident in your movements, he gets rougher, more aggressive. It’s not just whimpers that he’s inhaling, now, but moans. Even in the heat of the moment, though, Kuroo still has enough restraint, enough decency, left in him to continue to ask for your permission. 
“Do you like me enough to let me do this?” He asks you, fingers prodding at the buttons of your work attire. You nod weakly, dizzy with pleasure from just a few kisses. He takes a sharp inhale of breath when your bra is revealed to him, and then he’s helping you slip out of your skirt, and he has to take a few seconds to admire the matching lace set you’re wearing. “I didn’t know my little kouhai was hiding this underneath her work clothes.” He mutters, and you can’t help but thrive off of the attention he’s giving you. 
He leans down ‘til his mouth is so close to your ear, you can practically feel the heat of his breath as he whispers, “Does my precious kouhai like me enough to let me play with her cute pussy?” 
You think you’re going to faint. You can barely breathe as you nod your permission, but he merely tsks. “Use your words, sweetheart. Otherwise, I won’t know.” 
He’s toying with you now. There’s a purpose to him asking his questions the way he does; he wants to see how far your admiration, your devotion, to him runs. A workplace crush might let him get away with a few kisses, but what about pounding into your sweet cunt? Do you like him enough to let him do that? 
Apparently, you do. Because you’re getting over your shyness. Because you’re whispering, “Yes. I l-like you enough to let you play with my pussy.” 
“Atta girl.” 
He’s on you within milliseconds. The pretty panties you’re wearing are now on the floor of this hotel room. He’s quick enough to figure out how to unclasp your bra, and that’s thrown to the ground as well. Laying completely bare and exposed, your work senpai wastes no time in having his hands explore your body, feeling out all the curvatures and angles that make you you. 
He takes a finger to pet at your cunt, humming approval when he already feels traces of slick gathering on the pad of his ring finger. “Did you get wet just from a couple lil’ kisses?” 
You don’t want to answer him, turning your head to the side in embarrassment because yes, you did, but his grin only widens. He presses a kiss to your cheek, finding you downright cute. “Don’t be shy. You did nothing wrong.” 
You did nothing wrong. 
He’s always telling you this, and the kind words never fail to make you feel all warm inside. That’s one of your favorite phrases to hear, but somehow, it hits differently whenever he’s pairing that heartwarming phrase with his finger in your cunt. 
“Ah, fuck, you’re so tight, baby.” He grunts out, moving his ring finger in and out, in and out. “You know what I think you need? I think you need your senpai’s help in loosening you up. It’ll be good for you, wouldn’t you agree?”
You nod your head enthusiastically, and because you think he might like to hear you say it, you admit what he already knows. “Kuroo-senpai is right. You always know what I need.” 
“Good girl.” The praise has you tightening around his finger, and your reaction doesn’t go unnoticed. He smirks, pleased with how sweet and pliant you are for him. A few bits of praise thrown your way, and you become a slut for him.
It’s a good thing your senpai cares about you so much. He cares about you so much that he’s adding his middle finger to the mix, curling the two fingers against your walls, relishing in your little mewls of pleasure. He’ll have to stretch you out, get you all nice and prepped for his cock. He cares about you, which is why he’s going to let you cum. 
“Feelin’ good?” He asks, knowing that from your moans of pleasure, you definitely are. His fingers work wonders within you, and Kuroo can’t help but admire how cute you are, his little kouhai. What would you do without him, hm? He loves the way your knees jerk and how you whimper every time his fingers curl right up against that sweet spot inside of you, the one your tiny fingers can’t seem to reach no matter how hard you try. Your cute little cunt is already so wet, so ready for his cock, that neither of you can seem to ignore the squelching sounds it’s making as he continues to work his fingers in and out of you. When he presses his thumb to your clit, rubbing tiny figure-eights on the bud, you cry out his name, tacking on that familiar honorific he loves to hear falling from your sweet lips, as you cum all over his fingers. You cum so much that your essence is dripping onto his palm, trailing down to his wrist, and he thinks that this is exactly where you should be, where you always should be. 
“You’re so good for me. Look at how much my good girl came.” He coos, and you should be embarrassed about the mess you made, but when he sings out his praise for you like that, you can’t help but feel a tiny bit proud. 
“Can my good girl make me even prouder? Can you take my cock right now, [Name]?” 
Even if you couldn’t, you still wouldn’t have denied him. It’s a lucky thing, then, that you’re so desperate for him. You spread your legs even wider, inviting him, and who is Kuroo to leave such a precious girl waiting and wanting? It’d be cruel to. 
Which is why he doesn’t make you wait. 
Instead, he plunges his bare cock right into your pussy, groaning with satisfaction as he feels you clamp down on him. Of course you’d be clinging to him; you’re always clinging onto him, always following after him. Such a sweet girl, his lovely, adorable junior colleague. The kouhai who likes him so much, you’d allow him to fuck you nice and hard, to really make use of this couple’s suite and its obnoxious sized bed. 
He quickens his pace almost instantly, giving you no time to adapt to his girth and length. He grins when he sees your little fucked out expression, the way your tongue peeks out from between your pretty, pink lips and the way your cheeks are flushed, your hair a mess. The soft, breathy moans that escape from your mouth. You’re going dumb on his cock, and that’s perfectly fine by him. Let him do all the thinking, anyway. 
Kuroo places a hand on your lower belly, trying to gauge just how deep he’s thrusting into you, and when he finds out, he applies more pressure, pressing down on your soft skin, forcing you to take every inch he has to offer. He’s wringing out soft “ah ah ah!”s from you, and your legs wrap around him almost instinctively as you warn him that you’re about to cum once again. 
“So soon?” He grunts out, grinning meanly. “Normally, senpais don’t expect such slutty behavior from their coworkers, but since it’s me you’re going stupid for, I’ll let it pass.” Your legs are closing in on his body, your whole body jerking a bit as you start to lose control. “Go ahead and make me proud. Cum all over my cock like a good kouhai.” 
The minute the request leaves his mouth, you do. You cum all over his length, as he instructed, and he lets out a short laugh at how devoted you are to him.
“Good girl, my best girl.” He grunts out, fucking your cunt at a leisurely pace now before stilling, letting his own cum flood inside your perfect pussy. “My perfect little kouhai. You did so good for me.” 
And with your cunt full of your senpai’s cum, his cock still plugging you up and keeping everything tucked safely inside, he gives you a rather chaste forehead kiss that has you swooning.
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Honestly, you don’t expect much to change between the two of you. It’s not like you think Kuroo’s just going to get down on one knee and let you take his last name or anything. You’re still trying to convince yourself that that night wasn’t some hyper-realistic dream, and the only proof that it was real was the remainder of his cum still settled inside your pussy when you woke up the morning after. 
Kuroo is still a good work senpai, always coming to your defense and fixing your mistakes. 
But you can’t help but wonder if he thinks that night he fucked you is just another work mistake of yours that he has to fix. Because of this, you’ve gone out of your way to avoid him as much as possible. So when the director of your team calls you to his office to let you know that the transfer request you put in months ago, way before that night at the hotel, finally got approved, all you can do is bow your head in thanks and return to your cubicle in a daze.
You don’t know what to do, and the person you would normally come to for guidance is the one person you’re trying to minimize interaction with.
However, word of your transfer spreads fast. After all, it’s a cause for celebration when the weakest link of the team is finally moving far, far away. Your coworkers are all being much kinder to you, and in the middle of them congratulating you on your move, you look across the room and lock eyes with Kuroo. His facial expression betrays nothing, but he quickly mouths supply closet before sneaking out of the office.
Five minutes later, you manage to follow him, gently opening the door to the closet, only to be dragged in immediately. The click of the door locking is loud, heard even above your rapidly rising heart beat, and that’s how you find yourself being ravished by Kuroo, during work hours, at your workplace.
When he chastises you for addressing him so casually, you immediately feel terrible. 
“Kuroo-senpai,” you mutter out, avoiding staring at him entirely. “I’m sorry.”
“Yeah?” He growls out, keeping you pressed firmly against the wall. “What’re you so sorry for? For avoiding me, or for withholding the fact that you’re going to move all the way to Kyoto?” 
You shake your head, tiny droplets of tears gathering up in your eyes. When you look at him like that, like a little puppy who just got kicked, it only makes him want to ruin you some more, if only so he can have the honor of being the one to piece you right back together again. 
“Senpai, I-I didn’t know what to do.” You wail out. “I was scared that that night at the hotel didn’t matter to you, and I was embarrassed of how I acted then, and I applied to transfer to the Kyoto office ages ago, and when they finally approved it, I didn’t know if it would be smart to pull back my request. I’m sorry, Kuroo-senpai. Please don’t be mad at me.” 
He leans down, pressing his forehead against your own. “Not mad, baby. I was just a bit upset, that’s all.” He rests a hand against your hip, toying with the waistband of your skirt. “You shouldn’t have been embarrassed, though.”
“R-really?”
He nods. “Yeah. I fuckin’ love my little kouhai’s reactions. You shouldn’t be embarrassed around me.” He looks you in the eyes, tugging down your skirt and enjoying the hitch in your breath. “But it doesn’t change the fact that I was hurt.”
“I’m sorry!” You squeak out again, and he sighs. 
“If you’re really sorry, you’ll show me.” 
Apparently, the proper way to show him you’re sorry is to get down on your knees, ignoring the cold tile of the closet, and to unbuckle his belt, pull down the zipper of his slacks, and tug at his briefs in order to free his cock. He’s already hard, the tip of his cock an angry red with pearly white droplets of precum already gathering at the head. You shouldn’t be nervous; you had the full length of his dick inside of your pussy, but somehow, the task of taking him down your throat seems rather daunting. 
“C’mon, [Name]. Is my little kouhai getting shy again?” Kuroo teases, gently nudging his cock against your parted lips. Your tongue reflexively comes out, and before you realize it, your giving tiny kitten licks, getting your first taste of salty precum. You must make a face, because he laughs, before carding his fingers through the locks of your hair and suddenly, very suddenly, pushes you forward. 
He isn’t rough, but the presence and pressure of his hand is firm. He doesn’t push you down any further, but the first few inches of his cock is now resting against your tongue, and he’s savoring the warmth of your mouth, groaning as he feels the vibrations of you mumbling something in surprise. 
“Mm, this is a good starting point for an apology, don’t you think?” He muses, knowing that in your current position, you can’t really reply back. “Such a good kouhai for me. What am I gonna do when you move to Kyoto?”
His voice gets a bit huskier as he forces you to take more of his length into your mouth. When he starts thrusting gently, slowly getting you used to the feeling of him fucking your mouth, he lets out a groan. “So good, baby, so good. Do you normally let your senpais fuck your mouth like this?”
You mumble something, finding enough room to shake your head. 
“No?” He says, picking up his face. Every time he thrusts back in, he hits the back of your throat a bit harder, forces more of his length in. “You’re so good at taking my dick right now, though. Don’t tell me that this is your first time?” He looks down at you, eyes lighting up and a smile brightening his expression. “This is your first time sucking off a cock? Of letting someone fuck you like this?” He laughs, the sound full of genuine joy. 
“You’re the fucking best.” He tells you, before tightening his grip in your hair and pushing you down onto his cock. This is the only warning he gives you before you feel spurts of hot cum flooding into your mouth, and your eyes widen in surprise at the sheer amount that’s being poured into you. He lets out a little groan, tilting his own head back in pleasure as he keeps your head pushed down. The stimulation from you gagging around his girth only prolongs his climax, and you still can’t find relief when he pulls out of your mouth because he’s instantly demanding you open up and show him what a mess he made inside of you. 
You whimper, giving into your senpai’s request. You open up wide, sticking out your tongue to reveal the thick globs of white cum coating the appendage. Fuck, just the sight of you all submissive, on your knees, teary eyed and ready to please, mouth full of his cum… It’s enough to get him hard again. 
“You’re the best kouhai in the world.” He hums, patting your head, and you swallow up his praise just like you do his cum. 
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solxamber · 12 days ago
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Trash Novel Chronicles: Falling for the Sun in a Cold Empire || Kalim Al-Asim
You lose everything you've worked after getting transported to the novel that you read when you were a teenager after a freak accident. As the villainess.
It's time to rebuild yourself, one step at a time with a little help from Kalim Al-Asim, your betrothed.
This one isn't as silly as the rest, I hope y'all still like it
Series Masterlist
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The bar was bustling with the lively sounds of clinking glasses, laughter, and music. It was the kind of place that invited camaraderie, a perfect spot for celebrating the latest success your team had pulled off. You were surrounded by your colleagues, all in high spirits. The project you had all worked tirelessly on had finally paid off, and the sense of accomplishment was almost palpable.
Someone had insisted on buying another round, and before you knew it, shots were being passed around. You weren't normally one to indulge too much, but tonight was an exception. After all the stress and sleepless nights, you deserved to relax a little.
“Cheers to us!” someone shouted, and everyone raised their glasses, laughter rippling through the group.
You smiled, genuinely feeling the warmth of the moment. There was something about the shared joy of victory that made the exhaustion worthwhile. You took a sip of your drink, eyes drifting across the room to see your colleagues—people who had become something like a second family over the months of grueling work.
But then you noticed one of your colleagues.
He looked like someone who’d already had a bit too much, was stumbling his way towards the exit, mumbling something about needing fresh air. His unsteady gait set off alarm bells in your mind, and without a second thought, you set your drink down and quickly followed after him.
“Hey!” you called out, catching up to him just as he pushed open the heavy door to the outside. The cool night air hit your face, a sharp contrast to the warmth of the bar. “You okay, man? Maybe you should sit down for a bit.”
He waved you off, a lopsided grin on his face. “Nah, I’m fine! Just need… air,” he slurred, his steps veering towards the curb.
You frowned, reaching out to grab his arm gently. “Come on, let’s get you back inside. It’s not safe—”
Suddenly, he pulled away, stumbling further into the road. Everything seemed to happen in slow motion. The flash of headlights, the blaring horn, his eyes widening in confusion as the truck bore down on him.
Your body moved on instinct. Without thinking, you lunged forward, shoving your colleague out of the way. The last thing you heard was the deafening screech of tires, the rush of adrenaline flooding your veins as the realization hit.
There was no time to move.
The impact came with a force that stole your breath, pain radiating through your body before everything went dark.
The world faded away, the laughter and warmth of the bar replaced by an all-encompassing silence.
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You woke up slowly, the world around you blurred and unfamiliar. There was an ache in your body, a heavy sort of weariness that made every small movement a struggle. You blinked, trying to clear your vision, your head pounding as if it was caught between a vice.
The first thing you noticed was the ceiling. It was wooden, beams running across it, the kind of architecture that seemed straight out of a period drama. You frowned, your eyes narrowing in confusion.
Where were you? This wasn’t the hospital—there were no sterile white walls, no beeping monitors. And the bed… It was hard, almost uncomfortably so, and you could feel the scratchy fabric of the sheets beneath you.
Slowly, you pushed yourself up, the unfamiliar weight of the clothes you were wearing making you pause. They were heavy, the fabric rough against your skin. You looked down, taking in the sight of the dress you were wearing—long, old-fashioned, and visibly worn. The sleeves were frayed, and the fabric itself looked like it had seen better days, like something out of a historical novel.
You swung your legs over the side of the bed, your bare feet touching the cold wooden floor. The room around you was small, cramped, the furniture sparse and outdated. It was then that you noticed the mirror hanging crookedly on the wall. You stood, your legs shaky beneath you, and made your way towards it.
The face staring back at you wasn’t your own.
You swallowed, your heart thudding painfully in your chest as you took in the unfamiliar features—the pale skin, the hollow eyes, the face that looked almost gaunt. The realization settled in slowly, the pieces falling into place with a horrible sort of clarity. You knew this face. You knew these clothes, this room, the aching feeling that lingered in your chest.
It was the face of a character from a novel you had read as a teenager. A tragic, doomed villainess—one whose story had always stayed with you, not because of her actions but because of the injustice of it all. She was a character meant to suffer, her only role to push the heroine into her journey. She was used, discarded, her death nothing more than a footnote in the protagonist's story. The villainess with a cruel fate, a pawn in the hands of those more powerful, destined to be cast aside the moment her usefulness ran out.
You felt a chill settle in your bones, your body sinking back onto the edge of the bed as the weight of your new reality hit you. This wasn’t a dream. This wasn’t some fleeting nightmare you could wake up from. You were here—stuck in the body of a character whose life was nothing but misery.
Everything you had worked for—your career, your friendships, the life you had painstakingly built for yourself—was gone. All the late nights, the hard-earned successes, the laughter with friends over drinks—all of it was gone in an instant, replaced by a fate you wouldn’t wish on anyone.
The hopelessness of it all settled in, a heavy weight pressing down on your chest. There was no future for this character, no way out. She was meant to suffer, to be used and discarded, and no matter how much you wanted to fight it, to believe that you could change it, a part of you knew the truth.
You were powerless here.
You buried your face in your hands, a shuddering breath escaping your lips. You wanted to cry, to scream, to demand answers. But there was no one here to answer you, no one who would care even if they could. You were alone, in a story that had already decided your fate.
The tragic villainess—the role you were now forced to play.
And you couldn’t help but feel the crushing weight of despair.
After coming to terms with your new reality, you made a decision. You couldn’t afford to be a passive character in this story, waiting for the inevitable to crush you. If you were going to live in this world, then you would fight for it, rewrite the narrative, and carve out a future for yourself—even if that meant playing a role that no one expected of you.
The first challenge came at home. The character you possessed had a father—a lazy, indifferent man who spent his days drinking, oblivious to the decay of his household. The family was in debt, the estate falling apart, and the few servants left were more interested in lining their pockets than doing their jobs. You took a deep breath, refusing to be overwhelmed by the enormity of the task. One step at a time.
You started with the estate. You reviewed the books, fired the corrupt staff who had been bleeding your family dry, and brought in trustworthy people to take their place. It wasn’t easy—there were threats, and more than a few people tried to intimidate you into silence. But you had faced challenges before in your old life, and even in this new one, you weren’t about to be cowed.
Slowly, things began to change. The estate began to recover, the debts lessened, and the people who worked for you started to believe in you. You gained a reputation—first as a shrewd manager, then as someone who could be relied on to get things done. You built relationships, carefully navigating the intricacies of this world’s social dynamics. It wasn’t long before the local nobles started to take notice.
Your father, indifferent and content with his habits, became less of an obstacle as you quietly took over the responsibilities of your household. You made connections, attended social events, and gradually climbed the ranks. It was exhausting, demanding work, but every success fueled your determination.
Then came the opportunity that changed everything. A crisis in the kingdom required volunteers, and you stepped forward—a move that shocked those around you. A woman, much less a former disgraced noble, didn’t typically take on such a role. But you had no intention of following the rules laid out for you. You worked hard, proving your capability on the battlefield, earning respect not only for your strategic mind but also for your courage.
Eventually, you were knighted—a Dame of the kingdom, an honor that would have seemed impossible not long ago. It was followed by an offer to serve as a general. You accepted, knowing that with power came the opportunity to change your fate and secure a future free from the shackles of the tragic story you had once read.
The war that came next was brutal. You spent months on the frontlines, leading your soldiers through grueling battles. The weight of command was heavy; lives depended on you, and the decisions you made could mean the difference between victory and death. But you faced it all with a determination forged from your past life, a refusal to be anything less than victorious. You strategized, fought alongside your troops, and inspired them to fight harder.
In the end, you won. The kingdom's enemies were driven back, and you returned home not as the villainess destined for tragedy but as a war hero. The people cheered as you passed through the streets, and for the first time since you arrived in this world, you felt something other than fear and despair. You had fought, you had survived, and you had won.
The nobles who had once looked down on you were forced to recognize your accomplishments, and the people who once whispered about your family’s disgrace now spoke of your triumphs. You had rewritten the story, taken a character destined for misery and given her a new path—one forged by your own hands.
But even in victory, you knew the dangers of complacency. The story was far from over, and though you had managed to change your fate thus far, there were still challenges ahead. The heroine of the original story had yet to make her appearance, and the narrative that had once doomed you was still a threat.
But for now, you allowed yourself a moment to breathe, to take in the sight of the city you had fought to protect. You had climbed higher than anyone had expected, and you were determined not to fall. You had built something new—something that was yours. And you would fight to keep it, no matter what came next.
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But along the way, you’d lost something essential. The joy, the ambition, the passion that had once driven you was gone. You’d become cold, hardened by the betrayals you’d faced. Even the people closest to you turned out to be disloyal.
The most painful betrayal was from a soldier you had trusted with your life—someone you had fought beside in war. He had been leaking information to the enemy, and you were forced to execute him with your own hand. His treachery cut deeper than any wound you had suffered in battle.
Your butler, a kind old man who had become something of a father figure to you, noticed the change. He often tried to cheer you up, suggesting suitors and hosting lavish events, but none of it worked. The eligible bachelors and bachelorettes who came your way were only interested in your title and wealth, not you. You became cynical, distrustful, and your butler could only watch in sadness as the vibrant person you once were faded away.
It didn’t help that you had made powerful enemies. The first prince, who you had fought beside during the war, had proposed to you.
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The grand hall of the imperial palace was buzzing with the energy of the noble elite, all gathered to witness the unprecedented moment. You stood at the forefront of the room, the golden imperial crest behind you shimmering in the light of hundreds of candles.
The emperor himself had just awarded you the title of Grand Duchess, a feat no woman had ever achieved before. The applause was thunderous, the murmurs of awe and envy swirling through the crowd like a current.
You stood tall, your posture regal, even though the weight of the moment pressed down on you like a heavy crown. You’d worked for years to get here, fighting both on the battlefield and in the political arena, your every victory hard-earned.
It should’ve been a moment of triumph. And yet, the expression on the emperor’s face, tight and thin-lipped, warned you that this celebration wasn’t going to end on a pleasant note.
Sure enough, the moment the formalities ended, the first prince took a step forward. His crimson military uniform was pristine, medals gleaming on his chest, but the shine didn’t reach his eyes. You’d fought beside him during the war, seen his cowardice firsthand, and his presence already had your stomach turning.
He cleared his throat, and the hall fell into silence. The crowd’s attention shifted to him, eyes wide with anticipation. A royal prince proposing to the empire’s new Grand Duchess? It was the kind of spectacle they lived for.
“Grand Duchess,” he began, his voice booming with the kind of arrogance that only a man born into power could possess, “your bravery and accomplishments have brought great honor to this empire. You have achieved more than any woman before you, and it would be my honor to have you by my side.”
You felt your blood run cold. Oh, you knew this was coming. It had been whispered through the halls of the palace since the day you returned from the front lines—the cowardly prince, had been seeking to marry you and elevate his own standing. You’d avoided it until now, but it seemed the time for subtlety was over. He had chosen this moment, in front of the entire nobility, to make his move.
The prince knelt before you, reaching into his pocket to produce a ring—a garish thing, oversized and glittering with a ridiculous number of diamonds. The kind of ring that screamed, look at me, I’m important, but utterly lacked any true beauty. He held it up to you, the crowd around you gasping in unison.
“I ask for your hand in marriage, Grand Duchess,” he declared, his voice filled with artificial charm. “Together, we will rule this empire as the most powerful couple in history.”
You stared down at him, your jaw clenched so tight it was a wonder you didn’t break a tooth. Your mind raced as you felt the weight of every eye in the room on you. They were waiting for you to swoon, to accept, to submit to the prince’s advances like some simpering debutante.
But you? You were no ordinary noblewoman, no pawn in the empire’s political games. You had fought for this title, bled for it, earned it in ways he could never understand. And there was no way in hell you were going to let yourself be reduced to a mere accessory to this man’s weak, cowardly ambition.
Taking a deep breath, you looked down at the prince—this spoiled, useless man who thought his status alone could make up for his lack of character—and something inside you snapped.
“Marry you?” you repeated, your voice clear and cold, echoing through the hall. The prince’s smile wavered, and murmurs began to ripple through the audience.
You stepped forward, your voice rising with a sharp edge. “You think I would ever marry someone like you? A man who cowered behind his soldiers in battle, who fled at the first sign of danger? A man who abandoned his comrades, left them to die while he ran to save his own skin?”
The crowd gasped, the sound a collective intake of shock. his face flushed with embarrassment, but you weren’t done.
“I would rather marry a toad,” you continued, your voice dripping with scorn, “than be tied to a man as spineless and pathetic as you.”
The hall fell into a stunned silence. the prince's face went from red to ashen, his hand still frozen in place, holding that absurd ring. He opened his mouth, sputtering, but no words came out. He hadn’t expected this—no one had.
You could feel the weight of the empire’s gaze on you, but it didn’t matter. You were no longer just the Grand Duchess. You were something far more dangerous: a woman who had the power to defy the expectations of an entire empire.
“You would do well,” you said, your voice dropping to a deadly calm, “to remember that I earned this title. Not by birthright. Not by marriage. But by merit. And I’ll be damned if I ever let someone like you take that from me.”
With that, you turned your back on him, the prince still kneeling, humiliated in front of the empire’s most powerful. The nobles around you stood in stunned silence, some daring to whisper amongst themselves, while others watched in awe, as if witnessing a force of nature in human form.
As you walked away from the proposal, your eyes met the emperor’s. His face was unreadable, but there was a glint in his eyes—a silent acknowledgment that you had just done something no one else would have dared. You had broken the rules of this world, and the repercussions would be felt for years to come.
But you didn’t care. You were done playing their games.
Let them try and tame you. You had made it this far on your own, and you weren’t about to let anyone—least of all a toad in princely clothing—stand in your way.
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The day had started like any other—a grey, somber morning draped in the quiet monotony you had come to know. The Grand Duchess’s estate was immaculate, polished to perfection, reflecting the cold and unyielding nature of its owner.
You moved through the day with the same precision as ever, going through endless meetings, signing off on reports, handling political maneuvers with the finesse of a seasoned war general. Yet, beneath it all, the hollowness remained.
Until that afternoon.
A delegation from the Scalding Sands had arrived, their colorful caravans contrasting sharply with the muted grandeur of your estate. You had heard they were coming—a diplomatic mission of sorts—and while you didn’t expect much from it, the formalities had to be observed. It was part of your role now, after all.
You stood at the grand entrance, waiting as the doors swung open to reveal the visiting party. A small group of advisors and servants stepped in first, but then your eyes fell on the young man leading them.
Kalim Al-Asim, heir to the most prominent merchant family in the Scalding Sands.
Dressed in vibrant silks, Kalim practically radiated joy. His bright eyes shone with unfiltered excitement, and his smile was wide, carefree, as if he was about to greet an old friend instead of a war-hardened Duchess. His enthusiasm was…disarming, to say the least.
“Grand Duchess!” Kalim called out the moment he spotted you, practically bouncing as he approached. “It’s an honor to finally meet you! Your reputation precedes you—everyone’s been talking about how amazing you are!”
You blinked, taken aback by his unabashed warmth. No one had spoken to you like that in years—so casual, so genuine. Most nobles approached you with caution, fear even, carefully curating their words to avoid upsetting the ice-cold facade you’d been forced to build. But Kalim? He had no such hesitations.
You inclined your head, keeping your tone measured. “Lord Al-Asim, welcome to my estate. I trust your journey was smooth?”
“Oh, it was fantastic! The weather was perfect, and we got to see so many beautiful sights on the way here! Your countryside is amazing—so green! Nothing like back home.” He beamed at you, his energy practically infectious. “I brought some gifts too! We have spices, silks, and a bunch of other stuff from home that I think you’ll love.”
As he rattled off the list of things he brought, you found yourself…listening. Actually listening, instead of mechanically going through the motions. There was something about his unfiltered excitement that was strangely comforting. It had been so long since anyone had spoken to you like this, without calculation or hidden motives.
“I appreciate the thought,” you replied, a small flicker of something unfamiliar stirring in your chest. “I’ll have the servants take care of the gifts. Please, come inside.”
He entered the estate like a burst of sunlight, his presence immediately brightening the space. As the servants guided his entourage to their rooms, you walked alongside him, pointing out some of the estate’s features. Kalim seemed utterly fascinated by everything.
“Wow, this place is incredible!” Kalim exclaimed as they passed through the gallery. His eyes wandered over the portraits lining the walls, the tapestries depicting your family’s history. “It’s so different from back home. You must be so proud to live here.”
Pride? You hadn’t felt pride in anything for a long time. Your estate, your title—it was all just the result of relentless hard work, the endless climb to the top. But you had never stopped to admire it. To feel pride in what you’d built.
Still, you nodded, keeping your face composed. “It serves its purpose.”
Kalim gave you a curious glance. “You know, it sounds like you’re talking about a sword instead of your home.”
A sword. That’s what your life had been, hadn’t it? A weapon, sharp and unyielding, forged in battle, cutting down every obstacle in its path. But now, with Kalim’s innocent comment, you wondered—was that all it was?
Before you could respond, Kalim suddenly paused in front of one of the massive windows overlooking the gardens. The view was breathtaking, the autumn leaves casting the scene in warm, golden hues.
“Hey, look!” Kalim pointed excitedly. “Your garden! It’s so beautiful this time of year. Do you ever just sit out there and enjoy it?”
You blinked again. Enjoy it? The idea seemed foreign, almost absurd. But then, looking at Kalim’s wide, hopeful eyes, you found yourself saying, “No… I don’t.”
Kalim turned to you, that same sunny grin never leaving his face. “You should! I mean, you’ve worked so hard, right? You deserve to enjoy the little things too.”
His words caught you off guard. You’d forgotten what it felt like to enjoy anything.
But then, for the first time in what felt like an eternity, a faint smile tugged at your lips. It was small, barely noticeable, but it was there.
The maids and butlers who had been quietly observing from the corners of the room nearly gasped. One of them—your head butler, who had served you since the day you first took over your family’s estate—actually dabbed at his eyes with a handkerchief, looking as though he might burst into tears.
“D-Duchess…!” one of the younger maids whispered, her voice filled with wonder. “She’s smiling…”
You caught sight of the butler’s reaction and, for a moment, you almost laughed. It was such a strange sight—your stoic, stern staff, so moved by something as simple as a smile.
Kalim noticed it too, tilting his head curiously. “Why’s everyone so emotional?”
You shook your head, a soft chuckle escaping before you could stop it. “I suppose they’re not used to seeing me… enjoy myself.”
Kalim’s grin widened, his eyes practically sparkling. “Well, then, I guess we’ll have to change that! It’s about time you had some fun, right?”
You didn’t answer right away, but for the first time in years, something inside you—something long buried under layers of responsibility, grief, and betrayal—began to stir.
Perhaps he was right.
Perhaps it was time for you to remember what it felt like to live again.
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The grand ballroom was a sea of glittering gowns and tailored suits, filled with nobles and dignitaries who moved gracefully across the floor, their laughter and chatter blending with the soft music from the orchestra.
You stood at the edge of the room, as you always did during these events, keeping a careful distance from the festivities. These gatherings were necessary, of course—an unavoidable part of your role—but that didn’t mean you enjoyed them.
You took a sip of the champagne in your hand, your eyes scanning the room with practiced detachment. As always, you were observing—watching the faces, reading the subtle exchanges of power and influence happening between the guests.
The weight of your title hung heavy on your shoulders, a constant reminder of the responsibilities you bore. Even here, surrounded by laughter and music, you felt that familiar distance, the wall you had built around yourself growing ever higher.
It wasn’t until you noticed the flash of bright colors weaving through the crowd that your attention shifted. Kalim Al-Asim, as vibrant as ever, was making his way through the ballroom, greeting guests with his usual exuberance.
His silks shimmered in the soft candlelight, his wide grin impossible to miss. He moved with an ease that most nobles envied, free from the stifling formality that seemed to bind everyone else.
And then, as if sensing your gaze, his eyes found yours. His face lit up with recognition, and without hesitation, he started toward you.
“Oh, there you are!” he exclaimed, his voice filled with excitement as he reached your side. “I’ve been looking all over for you! Isn’t this ball amazing? The music, the lights, the people—it’s all so lively!”
You gave him a polite nod, your usual reserved expression in place. “It’s certainly… lively.”
Kalim laughed, clearly not picking up on your lack of enthusiasm. “You’re always so serious! You should join in the fun, you know! This kind of thing doesn’t happen every day.”
Before you could respond, he held out his hand to you, his eyes sparkling with genuine excitement. “Dance with me!”
The request caught you off guard, and you instinctively took a step back, shaking your head. “I appreciate the offer, but I don’t dance.”
Kalim tilted his head, a playful grin spreading across his face. “Come on! You can’t say no to a party like this! Everyone’s having such a good time—you should too.”
You opened your mouth to refuse again, but the look in his eyes stopped you. There was no expectation, no hidden motive—just the same infectious joy he carried with him everywhere he went. And for a moment, you hesitated, feeling something stir inside you. When was the last time you’d allowed yourself to have fun? To do something as simple as dance?
Still, old habits were hard to break. “I’m not exactly one for dancing,” you replied, trying to maintain your composure.
But Kalim wasn’t deterred. “That’s okay! You don’t have to be good at it—you just have to enjoy it!” He took your hand, his grip warm and inviting. “Please? Just one dance?”
There was something so sincere in his request, so full of hope, that you found yourself nodding before you could think better of it.
Kalim’s face lit up with delight, and without wasting a moment, he led you out onto the dance floor. The room seemed to blur around you as he took your hand in his, guiding you into the rhythm of the music. His movements were far from graceful, but they were full of life, and you couldn’t help but be swept along by his energy.
At first, you were stiff, your posture as rigid as ever, but Kalim’s enthusiasm was contagious. He spun you around with such glee that you couldn’t help but let out a small laugh, the sound surprising even to yourself. Kalim grinned at you, clearly thrilled that he had coaxed a smile from you.
“See? You’re already having fun!” he said brightly.
And he was right. For the first time in what felt like an eternity, you weren’t thinking about the politics of the room, the weight of your title, or the endless responsibilities waiting for you. For this brief moment, you were just… dancing. Letting go. Enjoying yourself.
As the music swelled, Kalim twirled you again, his laughter mixing with the sounds of the ballroom. The two of you were out of step with the rest of the dancers, your movements more playful than elegant, but you didn’t care. Neither did Kalim. He didn’t care about appearances or expectations—he just wanted you to be happy, and for this one dance, you let him succeed.
Around you, the other guests had begun to notice. Whispers passed between them, astonished gazes following your every move. The Grand Duchess—stoic, untouchable—laughing and dancing with such abandon was something no one had ever expected to see. Your knights, stationed at the edge of the ballroom, exchanged incredulous glances, unable to believe what they were witnessing.
“She’s dancing…” one of them murmured, barely audible. “And she’s smiling.”
Your head butler, who had been hovering nearby as always, watched with misty eyes. “This… this is a day for the history books,” he whispered, dabbing at his face with a handkerchief.
You could feel their eyes on you, the shock rippling through the room, but for once, you didn’t care. In this moment, you allowed yourself to be free, to laugh, to dance, to let go of the weight that had been pressing down on you for so long.
As the song came to an end, Kalim pulled you into one final twirl, his grin as wide as ever. When the music stopped, you found yourself breathless but… lighter. For the first time in years, you felt a spark of something you hadn’t felt in a long time.
Joy.
Kalim beamed at you, clearly proud of himself. “See? I told you it’d be fun!”
You shook your head, unable to stop the small smile that lingered on your lips. “You are… impossible, Kalim.”
He laughed, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “I’ll take that as a compliment!”
As you returned to your spot at the edge of the room, the music starting up again for the next dance, you realized that something had changed. Kalim had reminded you of something you had long forgotten—that it was okay to enjoy yourself. That even someone like you, burdened with the weight of leadership, could allow herself a moment of happiness.
And maybe, just maybe, you could allow yourself more moments like this.
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The night after the ball had been long and arduous, and you were ready to retreat into the sanctuary of your chambers. The walls of your estate, which had once felt like a fortress, now felt suffocating as you tried to quiet the noise in your mind.
The forced smiles, the veiled threats, the insidious whispers among the nobility—they were all routine by now, but they weighed heavier tonight.
As you reached for the door to your private quarters, a sharp knock echoed through the hallway. One of your servants stepped forward, their face pale, eyes lowered in deference.
"The Emperor has summoned you, Grand Duchess."
Your fingers froze on the door handle. The Emperor? At this hour?
Though dread prickled at your skin, you squared your shoulders and strode down the hall toward the imperial throne room. The Emperor wasn’t one for idle conversation; this was bound to be more than a simple debrief after the ball.
The grand doors to the throne room loomed before you, and with a nod from the guards, they creaked open to reveal the Emperor seated on his throne. He was draped in the finest clothes, his presence radiating authority, but there was something sharper in his gaze tonight. The first prince, stood off to the side, arms crossed, a triumphant smirk barely hidden behind his princely facade.
You stepped into the room, head held high. You wouldn’t show weakness, not here. Not in front of them.
"Your Majesty," you greeted, voice steady.
The Emperor wasted no time. “Grand Duchess, tonight’s events have caused quite a stir.” He leaned forward slightly, his eyes hard as stone. “Your rejection of the First Prince in such a public manner has… complicated things.”
The weight of his words settled over you like a suffocating blanket. You clenched your fists but remained silent, waiting for him to reveal his true intention.
He sighed, a sound heavy with pretense. “The nobility is divided, and the Empire cannot afford instability. You have two choices before you.”
Your eyes flickered towards the first prince, who was barely containing his glee. You already knew what was coming.
“Marry the first prince and strengthen your position within the royal family.” The Emperor's voice was calm, deliberate. “Or, if that does not suit you…” He paused for effect, his gaze hardening as if daring you to defy him. “Marry Kalim Al-Asim and solidify our diplomatic alliance with the Scalding Sands.”
The room felt as though it had tilted. You knew this was coming, yet hearing the words spoken aloud felt like a slap across the face. “And if I refuse both?” you asked, voice colder than ice.
The Emperor’s eyes narrowed. “Then I will have no choice but to imprison you for defying royal decree.” He leaned back into his throne, fingers tapping on the armrest. “You’ve served this empire well, but even you are not above the law.”
Your heart thundered in your chest, fury bubbling just beneath your skin. You, who had rebuilt "your" family’s estate, who had served the empire with every drop of blood and sweat you had to give—this was your reward? An ultimatum. Marry a prince who disgusted you, or chain yourself to Kalim, someone who was the antithesis of everything you had become.
You felt your lips curl into a grim smile. “So those are my choices. A cowardly prince or shackling Kalim to someone like me—a shell of a person who’s long forgotten how to live.” The bitterness in your voice was unmistakable.
Kalim, who had been standing nearby, watching the exchange, finally stepped forward. His face was still lit with that ever-present smile, though softer now, and he didn’t seem rattled in the slightest by the gravity of the situation. “I mean… I wouldn’t mind.”
You turned to him, incredulous. What?
Kalim laughed lightly, scratching the back of his head, his tone still as carefree as ever. “I’d be happy if it’s you. Really. Out of anyone in this empire, I’d rather be with someone strong and capable like you than some stranger who doesn’t even care.” His eyes were warm, completely sincere. There wasn’t a trace of fear or doubt in his words. “Plus, you’re pretty amazing! You’ve done so much for your estate, your people... I think you’re really cool!”
For a moment, just a brief moment, your raging heart stilled.
Kalim had no idea what kind of burden this marriage would be for him. You weren’t the person you once were. The years had hardened you, chipped away at the softness, leaving only the cold, sharp edges behind. Yet here he was, smiling, accepting the situation with an ease that made you wonder how he could be so unaffected.
You swallowed hard, your anger at the Emperor still simmering, but Kalim’s words had softened the blow. This wasn’t about him. He wasn’t the one forcing you into this corner. If anything, he was as much a pawn as you were.
But that didn’t mean you would accept this quietly.
You turned back to the Emperor, the cold fire in your eyes unmistakable. “Very well,” you said, voice calm but laced with venom. “I’ll marry Kalim if that is what you demand.” You took a step forward, your gaze piercing through the Emperor. “But rest assured, Your Majesty, this humiliation will not go unanswered. I may be bound by your decree, but you will regret underestimating me.”
The Emperor raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued but unimpressed. “Is that a threat, Grand Duchess?”
You smiled, slow and dangerous. “A promise.”
With that, you turned on your heel, your decision made. Kalim followed you without hesitation, his steps light and unburdened.
And as you left the imperial throne room, you couldn’t help but glance at him from the corner of your eye. Kalim was smiling still, bright and carefree, as if nothing had changed.
Maybe—just maybe—you would survive this ordeal with a little less bitterness than you’d expected.
But the Emperor? He wouldn’t escape unscathed. You would make sure of that.
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The morning sun filtered through the tall windows of your manor, casting a warm, golden light across the room as you stood in the foyer. Kalim’s people from the Scalding Sands were preparing to depart, their vibrant, colorful robes a stark contrast to the colder tones of your estate.
You watched as they bustled about, gathering their things, saying their goodbyes, and it was a strange feeling—this sudden departure of the warmth they had brought with them.
Kalim was chatting excitedly with his entourage, gesturing wildly as he recounted some tale or another. His boundless energy had not dulled, despite the situation. You wondered how someone could remain so cheerful even in the face of such an uncertain future.
One of the senior members of Kalim’s delegation approached you, bowing deeply. “Grand Duchess, we are honored by your hospitality and your graciousness in this… unexpected engagement.” He glanced at Kalim with a fond, yet slightly exasperated look. “But our duties call us back to the Scalding Sands. We regret we cannot stay longer.”
You nodded, your expression softening slightly. “You are always welcome to stay in my manor for as long as you like. Consider it an apology for the empire’s… difficult circumstances.” The words didn’t come easily, but you meant them. You hadn’t missed how awkward the situation was for them—dragged into imperial politics without much say in the matter.
The advisor looked touched, a flicker of surprise crossing his face before he bowed even deeper. “Your kindness is greatly appreciated, Grand Duchess. But, alas, we must return. We have duties to fulfill back home. Our people rely on us.”
You nodded in understanding, casting a glance at Kalim, who was still busy waving goodbye to his people. “I understand. Do what you must.”
The group finished their farewells and began filing out of the estate, leaving only one person behind—Jamil, Kalim’s loyal aide, who stood with his arms crossed, looking as calm and composed as ever.
Kalim turned to you with his usual bright smile, waving at his departing entourage. “Looks like it’s just us now!”
“And Jamil,” you added dryly.
Jamil gave a polite nod. “Of course, Grand Duchess. I will remain at Kalim’s side as always.”
You offered Jamil a brief nod before turning your attention back to Kalim. “I hope the manor is to your liking. It will likely feel different without your people around.”
Kalim beamed, completely unfazed. “Are you kidding? This place is amazing! Plus, I’ve made some new friends already.”
You raised an eyebrow. “New friends?”
At that moment, the door to the kitchen swung open, and a trio of your staff—two maids and your head butler—rushed into the room, their arms filled with notepads. They hovered around Kalim, their expressions a mix of admiration and excitement.
“Lord Al-Asim,” one of the maids began eagerly, “could you tell us again how you made the Grand Duchess laugh yesterday? We’d like to take notes.”
Kalim’s face lit up even more, if that was possible. “Oh, sure! So, I was just talking about how much I love riding on magic carpets and how one time, I almost flew straight into a flock of flamingos. You should’ve seen the feathers everywhere!” He burst into laughter, and the staff furiously scribbled in their notepads.
You stood there, blinking, utterly dumbfounded. You knew Kalim had a way of getting people to like him, but this? This was something else. You caught sight of your head butler, who was listening intently, nodding along as if Kalim were revealing some great secret to unlocking your happiness.
Kalim, noticing your expression, turned toward you with a huge grin. “See? I told you! They’re really interested in learning how to make you smile more!”
You couldn’t help it—a soft laugh escaped your lips. It was ridiculous. Absolutely ridiculous. Your estate, so accustomed to the stoic and rigid demeanor you carried, was now filled with your maids and butlers eagerly taking tips from a young merchant heir about how to bring joy into your life.
Your head butler gasped at the sound of your laugh, immediately dabbing at his eyes with his handkerchief. “The Grand Duchess… she laughed again!” His voice quivered with emotion, and the younger maid next to him looked ready to burst into tears as well.
This time, you couldn’t stop yourself. You laughed—genuinely, fully, for the first time in what felt like years. The absurdity of it all, the sight of your normally stone-faced butler shedding tears of joy over something so simple, was too much.
Kalim, of course, laughed along with you, completely at ease. “See? It’s not so hard!”
You shook your head, still chuckling as you looked at him. “You’re impossible, Kalim.”
He grinned, clearly proud of himself. “Hey, as long as you’re smiling, I’m doing something right!”
You glanced over at your butler, who was now openly weeping into his handkerchief. “Please, calm down. You’re making a scene.”
But the butler only waved a hand dramatically, unable to compose himself. “It is… a joy to witness such a thing, Grand Duchess. A joy I never thought I would see in my lifetime.”
You rolled your eyes, though a smile lingered on your lips. “Honestly…”
Kalim, still grinning from ear to ear, looked at you with a warmth that, for just a moment, eased the tension that had been building in your chest since the engagement was announced. Though the situation was far from ideal, and though you still had plans to make the Emperor regret his actions, Kalim’s presence—his boundless energy and optimism—was like a ray of sunlight breaking through the storm clouds that had surrounded you for so long.
And maybe, just maybe, that wasn’t such a bad thing after all.
<hr>
The bustling market was alive with the sights and sounds of your people going about their day—vendors calling out their wares, children running between the stalls, the smell of freshly baked bread and roasted meats filling the air. It had been years since you last visited the market like this, blending in with the common folk, and you were struck by how much had changed since you were younger. The town had grown, thriving under your rule, and though you were always kept informed of the state of your territory, seeing it firsthand was a different experience altogether.
Beside you, Kalim was practically vibrating with excitement. His eyes sparkled as he took in the vibrant displays of food, crafts, and goods, his smile as wide as ever. “Wow! This place is amazing! Look at all these stalls!” He dashed ahead, marveling at the colorful array of goods, his enthusiasm as infectious as ever.
You couldn’t help but smile at his energy, though you maintained your usual composed demeanor. “This market is one of the oldest in the region. It’s a center of trade, and many of the local families have been running their stalls for generations.”
Kalim turned to you, eyes bright with admiration. “Your people look so happy! I knew you were an amazing ruler, but seeing this with my own eyes? It’s incredible! You’ve built something really special here.”
There was a warmth in his words that caught you off guard, and for a moment, you found yourself lost in thought. You had always worked hard for your people, but you rarely took the time to reflect on how much you had accomplished. Hearing it from someone like Kalim—someone who was so honest and open in his praise—made it feel different, more personal.
He suddenly grabbed your hand, pulling you toward a food stall where a vendor was grilling skewers of seasoned meat. “Hey, we’ve gotta try some of this!” Kalim exclaimed, eyes wide with excitement. “It smells so good!”
The vendor, a stout older man with a friendly smile, bowed as he recognized you. “Grand Duchess! It is an honor to serve you today. Would you like to try one of our specialties?”
You nodded, taking in the scent of the sizzling food. “I’ll have two, please.”
The vendor handed you two skewers, and you turned to Kalim, offering him one. “Here, try this.”
Without a second thought, Kalim leaned in and took a bite right from the skewer you were holding, grinning up at you as he chewed. “Mmm! This is delicious!” His face lit up in delight, and he barely waited to swallow before he added, “You have to try some too!”
Before you could react, Kalim held his own skewer up to you, expecting you to do the same. The casualness of the gesture—the ease with which he shared his food—made you pause. It had been so long since anyone had treated you like this, without the usual formality or hesitation. Almost on instinct, you leaned in and took a small bite.
The flavor was rich, the spices perfectly balanced, but it wasn’t the food that had your attention. No, it was the way Kalim was watching you, his expression full of warmth and joy, as if this simple moment meant the world to him.
Your face warmed slightly, and before you could stop yourself, you realized you were blushing.
Behind you, you heard a sharp intake of breath from one of your knights, who had been quietly trailing after you. “Did… did the Grand Duchess just blush?” one of them whispered, her voice barely audible but filled with astonishment.
Another knight, equally stunned, gasped. “She did! I saw it! She actually blushed!”
You turned to glare at your knights, trying to regain your composure. “Enough,” you said sharply, though your flustered tone betrayed you. “Focus on your duties.”
But your knights were having none of it. One of them, a young woman with a mischievous glint in her eye, exchanged glances with her comrades before whispering, “Did you see how casual she was with him? They’re feeding each other like a couple!”
Another knight, eyes wide with excitement, chimed in. “I can’t believe this! The Grand Duchess… flustered by her fiancé? It’s like we’re in a romance novel!”
You shot them another look, but Kalim, completely oblivious to the whispers and side glances, just laughed, offering you more of his skewer. “Here, have some more! You look like you liked it!”
Your heart raced at the simple, kind gesture, and though you wanted to maintain your icy composure, something about Kalim’s sincerity made it impossible to stay guarded. You took another bite, feeling your face grow even warmer as your knights barely contained their squeals of excitement.
One of the senior knights, trying to remain composed but failing miserably, muttered, “This is the happiest I’ve ever seen her. Lord Al-Asim is working miracles.”
“I know!” another knight whispered excitedly. “We should take notes! Maybe we can keep her in a good mood if we learn from him.”
The absurdity of it all—the idea of your battle-hardened knights taking pointers from Kalim on how to make you smile—was too much. You couldn’t help it; a soft, genuine laugh escaped your lips.
You sighed, shaking your head as Kalim smiled up at you, completely unaware of the chaos he had just caused. “You really are impossible, Kalim.”
Kalim grinned, completely at ease. “Hey, as long as you’re happy, I’m doing something right!”
For the first time in a long while, surrounded by the people you’d worked so hard to protect and with Kalim at your side, you felt a genuine lightness in your heart. Maybe this wasn’t the life you had planned, but for now, in this moment, it didn’t seem so bad.
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From the moment Kalim Al-Asim first stepped into your estate, he could feel the weight of the world pressing down on you. It wasn’t something you said or did—if anything, you were composed, graceful, carrying yourself with the kind of authority that made people hesitate before speaking to you.
No, it was something deeper, something in the way your shoulders were always so tense, the way your eyes seemed to hold a kind of tiredness that went beyond just physical exhaustion.
Kalim wasn’t blind to his own shortcomings. He wasn’t the smartest guy—he knew that. He’d been told as much more times than he could count. People often saw him as naive, too happy-go-lucky for the responsibilities placed on his shoulders.
That’s what Jamil was for, after all, to cover for his inadequacies and ensure that things went smoothly. Kalim didn’t mind. He trusted Jamil more than anyone, and he knew his limits.
But when he met you, something shifted inside him.
At first, it was just awe. You were the Grand Duchess, after all—the person everyone talked about. A ruler who had risen to power not by birthright but through sheer will and skill.
You had this aura of strength around you, like a shield. But Kalim could see the cracks in that armor, the way the weight of your responsibilities was crushing you, little by little. And it hurt to see.
He’d expected you to be cold, maybe even harsh, like so many nobles who carried the weight of authority. But when you greeted him, your voice wasn’t harsh—it was gentle. There was pressure behind it, sure, but you didn’t snap at him or dismiss his excitement, even though he knew people often found him a bit too much.
Instead, you listened to him. You smiled—a small, almost invisible one—but it was there, and it lit something inside him. A flutter he didn’t quite know how to describe.
It was when you smiled for him for the first time that he really felt it. That small, faint curve of your lips after he’d gotten a little too excited about something as simple as a window view of your garden. The flutter in his chest was unfamiliar, but he didn’t dislike it. No, in fact, it felt… nice. Special.
Kalim couldn’t help but want to make you smile again.
He’d seen so many people forced into roles that didn’t let them be happy, and he hated that you seemed to be one of them. You were strong, yeah, but you were suffering, too. And that was something Kalim couldn’t stand. So, from that moment on, he made it a personal goal to lighten the weight on your shoulders, even if just a little.
He didn’t have Jamil’s cleverness, didn’t understand the nuances of the political games you were constantly playing, but maybe—just maybe—he could give you something simple. A reminder that life wasn’t just about duty and responsibility, that there could be joy, too. If anyone deserved to smile more, it was you.
And when you did, that tiny flutter in his chest bloomed into something more. He didn’t have the words for it, but whatever it was, it made him even more determined to stick by your side.
Because in the end, Kalim Al-Asim wasn’t the smartest, but he knew one thing for sure: he liked making you happy. And if he could do that, even in the smallest ways, then maybe that was enough.
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The wedding had been a grand affair—briefly mentioned in conversations, a formality that had swept through the palace in a whirlwind of silks, flowers, and the astonished murmurs of nobles. Now, life had settled into its new rhythm. The days moved forward, filled with work and the familiar weight of duty, yet something had shifted. Something brighter.
You sat at your desk, papers spread out in front of you, quill in hand. The room was quiet, save for the soft scratching of pen on parchment. But then, a familiar burst of energy entered the room.
Kalim.
He bounded over to you, practically glowing with life, as always. His smile was wide, his eyes gleaming as he plopped down beside you, legs crossed, hands gesturing animatedly as he spoke.
“Hey, what’re you working on? Anything exciting? You should take a break—you’ve been at it for hours!” His words bubbled up, his excitement palpable.
You glanced up from your work, unable to suppress the smallest of smiles. Kalim had that effect—an infectious lightness that made everything around him feel… easier. As he leaned closer to peer at your papers, you felt the warmth of his presence, the joy that radiated from him in every small movement.
And then, it hit you.
The past few months, since you had arrived in this world, had been the best you could remember. Despite everything—despite the weight of your responsibilities, the confusion of your new life—there had been him. Kalim, always there with his endless enthusiasm, his unwavering kindness. He was the reason those months had been so full of life, so unexpectedly joyful.
Without thinking, you reached out, grabbing his arm and pulling him down onto your lap. His laughter bubbled up in surprise as you tugged him into your space, but before he could say anything, you leaned in and kissed him.
For a moment, the world stilled. His lips were soft, warm against yours, and you could feel the surprised smile lingering there, slowly deepening as he kissed you back, his hands resting gently on your shoulders.
When you pulled back, his eyes sparkled, his grin wider than ever.
“Well, that was unexpected!” he laughed, his cheeks flushed. “I should interrupt your work more often!”
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The chaos hit you the moment you opened the door.
Papers were scattered everywhere, an overturned chair lay dramatically in the corner, and somehow, somehow, Kalim had managed to knock over an entire shelf of books, which now covered the floor in what could only be described as a literary avalanche.
In the center of it all was Kalim himself, spinning wildly in circles as he tried to catch a parrot—yes, a parrot—that was squawking and flapping around the room like it had a personal vendetta against order.
"Oh! You're back!" Kalim shouted, not missing a beat as he stumbled over a pile of papers, arms flailing as the parrot swooped low above his head. "You wouldn’t believe it—Jamil said not to bring the bird in, but I thought, 'Hey, it’ll liven things up!' And now it’s really livening things up!"
The parrot screeched in agreement, swooping low again as Kalim tried (and failed) to dodge it, knocking into another pile of books in the process.
You just stood there, blinking, trying to comprehend the sheer absurdity of what you were seeing. Your instinct—your usual instinct—would have been to explode, to demand why Kalim had brought a parrot into your office and created a scene worthy of a disaster movie.
But then Kalim turned toward you, still laughing despite the madness, his eyes bright with excitement and joy. He looked so happy, so full of life, and that grin—oh, that ridiculous, infectious grin—just melted away any irritation you might’ve felt.
You sighed, half-amused, half-exasperated, but completely smitten.
"Why did you bring a parrot in here, Kalim?" you asked, not really expecting a logical answer.
"I thought it could help!" he said earnestly, ducking again as the parrot flapped by. "You know, for moral support! But I think it’s mad about the crackers I gave it—they weren’t the fancy ones."
Despite yourself, you snorted a laugh. Fancy crackers for a parrot. Of course.
Shaking your head, you rolled up your sleeves and waded into the chaos. "Alright," you said with a sigh, "how do we calm this thing down?"
"I knew you'd help!" Kalim beamed, his grin wider than ever as he accidentally knocked over another stack of books while trying to reach for the bird. "You’re the best!"
And just like that, any frustration you might’ve felt disappeared. It was impossible to stay mad when Kalim was around, when he looked at you like that, his smile brighter than the chaos surrounding you.
Sure, you should’ve been irritated—you definitely should’ve scolded him—but the truth was, you didn’t care. Not when you liked seeing him happy like this.
The parrot screeched again, now perched on top of the chandelier, and you looked at Kalim, who was already planning his next attempt to capture it, enthusiasm never wavering.
"Alright," you muttered with a smirk, "let’s catch a parrot."
Because really, with Kalim, how could you say no?
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The council chamber was as dull as ever. Endless discussions, arguments over treaties and trade, and the first prince droning on with his overinflated sense of importance. Once, you would have gritted your teeth and endured it, forcing yourself to care because you had to—because that was what duty demanded.
But now, with Kalim beside you, the air felt lighter. His presence added a quiet warmth, even in this room filled with scheming nobles and stifling protocol.
You caught Kalim sneaking glances at you, barely containing his grin, and he leaned in, whispering, “Do you think they’d notice if we snuck out? I saw this really nice restaurant on the way.”
You smothered a laugh, turning your gaze downward. You’d never dreamed you could feel such joy during these dreary meetings, but here you were, caught in this bubble with him, like the two of you were the only people in the room. His happiness became your own, and in that moment, nothing else mattered.
The first prince’s voice faltered, his expression darkening as he noticed the soft smile you were trying to hide. Anger sparked in his eyes, a sharp glint of resentment as he realized his plans to manipulate you had come to nothing. He looked at you and Kalim as if he were staring at an infuriating puzzle—one that needed to be destroyed.
That night, after a grueling day of meetings, you made your way to your chambers. The hallways were quiet, and the familiar comforts of your estate filled you with calm, but something felt off. Shadows stretched where they shouldn’t, moving unnaturally, as if they had a life of their own. Your instincts kicked in, and you quickened your pace.
You reached your shared bedroom, a flicker of movement catching your eye. There, in the corner, figures clad in dark robes converged around Kalim. His eyes widened, but before he could react, you lunged forward, fury blazing in your veins.
You fought them off with nothing but raw strength and sheer will, each blow desperate and ferocious. They struck at you, blades glinting, and you felt pain slice across your skin, but you refused to yield, refusing to let them get anywhere near him.
At last, the final attacker crumpled to the floor. You staggered, blood staining your clothes, the pain seeping into every limb, but Kalim’s arms were already there, catching you before you could fall.
His expression was uncharacteristically serious, his cheerful demeanor replaced by something sharp, regal—a reminder that he was no mere boy in love but the heir of a powerful family.
The doctor arrived, working quickly, and once you were settled in bed, Kalim took a seat beside you. His gaze was steady, intense, and for the first time, you saw the weight of responsibility in his eyes, the silent authority he usually kept hidden beneath layers of laughter and joy.
“Why did you fight them alone?” he asked quietly, his hand reaching to brush a strand of hair from your face. “You didn’t have to—”
You shook your head, a faint smile pulling at your lips. “Because no one hurts you. Not while I’m here.”
His hand stilled, and a flicker of pain crossed his face. “I didn’t have to stay, you know.” His voice was soft but firm, carrying the weight of a decision made long ago. “I’m not tied to this empire. My family’s influence is vast; we don’t need anyone’s approval. But I stayed… because I like being here with you. Because I…” His voice faltered, but his gaze held yours. “Because I love you.”
Kalim’s hand clasped yours, his fingers warm and steady. “The Scalding Sands will manage without this empire. And this place… it doesn’t deserve you. Not when it has hurt you like this.” His voice grew colder, a tone you’d never heard from him before. “Let it fall apart, for all I care. I’m done watching it drain the life out of you.”
For a long moment, you lay there, absorbing the enormity of his words. A world without the burden of duty, free from the endless cycles of treachery and expectation. And Kalim beside you, offering not just escape, but freedom, and a life filled with joy.
A soft laugh escaped you, surprising even yourself. “I don’t care if the empire crashes and burns,” you murmured, your hand tightening around his. “I don’t care about any of it. I just want you.”
Kalim’s eyes softened, and he leaned down, his lips brushing gently against yours. The kiss was slow, tender, and filled with a promise of a new beginning. It was a moment that felt like the closing of one life and the opening of another, a vow sealed with warmth and certainty.
You both pulled back, breathless but smiling, a new, shared future blooming between you. And when you finally closed your eyes, your hand still in his, you knew you’d face whatever came next together, no matter where it led.
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The final ball was as grand as ever, the ballroom filled with nobles dressed in the finest silks and jewels, their laughter and chatter a thin veil over the ever-present tension in the room.
You entered with Kalim by your side, the weight of what you were about to do settling over you like armor. The empire had always been a battlefield for you, but tonight… tonight, you were walking away from it all.
At the far end of the ballroom, the Emperor sat on his gilded throne, the golden imperial crest looming behind him. His eyes scanned the room lazily, but you could see the calculation in his gaze. Beside him stood the First Prince, his eyes narrowing at you the moment you entered. His jaw clenched, the flicker of rage barely contained beneath the surface.
You weren’t here to dance, though. No, tonight was about setting yourself free.
Taking a deep breath, you stepped into the center of the ballroom, Kalim’s presence a comforting warmth beside you. The chatter died down almost instantly, and all eyes turned toward you. Whispers spread like wildfire through the crowd—what was the Grand Duchess planning now?
You gave them no time to speculate.
“Your Majesty,” you called out, your voice sharp enough to cut through the murmurs. “I stand before you one last time to say this: I will no longer serve this Empire.”
The room fell into stunned silence, gasps echoing off the walls. The Emperor’s eyes darkened, his hand gripping the armrest of his throne tightly, but you didn’t stop.
“Your empire,” you continued, your voice rising, “is built on the backs of people far better than you. You are a rotten king. You speak of honor and glory, but all you do is send others to die for your own ambition. I bled for this empire, fought your wars, won your battles, and for what? So you could sit on your throne, pretending to be a ruler when you’re nothing but a coward hiding behind false titles?”
The nobles gasped again, their shock palpable. No one had ever spoken to the Emperor like this.
“And you,” you snapped, turning toward the First Prince, your eyes blazing. “You—who ordered the assassination of my husband because I rejected you—are even worse. A spineless coward with nothing to back your ego. You hide behind your father’s power, hoping that killing the man I love will somehow make me regret not choosing you. But I could never love someone as weak as you. You are pathetic.”
His face turned an ugly shade of red, his hand twitching toward the sword at his side, but you weren’t afraid. You had seen what he was capable of—nothing.
The Emperor finally spoke, his voice low and dangerous. “You dare insult your emperor, the man who gave you your title?”
“I earned my title,” you snapped, stepping forward. “I didn’t need your permission or your favor to become who I am. You gave me nothing that I didn’t take for myself. And I’ll tell you this—I will never fight another war for someone as revolting as you.”
The Emperor’s mask of indifference cracked, his eyes blazing with fury, but behind it, you could see the desperation. He needed you. The Empire needed you. They couldn’t afford to lose you.
He leaned forward, his voice tight with barely controlled anger. “What do you want? Wealth? Power? I’ll give you anything. Just don’t walk away.”
You almost laughed at the irony of it—this man who had always acted like you were disposable, now begging you to stay.
But you didn’t need his power. You didn’t need his wealth. You glanced at Kalim, who stood beside you with that same warmth, that same unshakable love in his eyes. And in that moment, you knew exactly what you wanted.
“Kalim is enough,” you said, your voice soft but firm. “I don’t need anything from you.”
With that, you turned on your heel, not sparing the Emperor or his pathetic son another glance. Kalim followed without question, his hand finding yours as you walked out of the ballroom, your loyal knights, butler, and maids falling in step behind you.
You could hear the stunned whispers of the nobles behind you, their shock hanging in the air like a tangible thing, but you didn’t care. You had walked away from the Empire, from its corruption, from its endless, soul-sucking games.
And now? Now, you were free.
As the cool night air hit your face, Kalim squeezed your hand, his bright smile lighting up the darkness. “So,” he said, his voice filled with excitement, “where should we go first on our adventure?”
You laughed softly, feeling lighter than you had in years. “Anywhere. Everywhere. As long as it’s with you.”
And with that, you ran. Away from the Empire, away from the pain of your past, toward a future filled with love, adventure, and endless possibilities.
For the first time in what felt like an eternity, you were truly happy.
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Series Masterlist ; Masterlist
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luvzshy · 1 month ago
Note
something when Billie is dating a normal girl without fame and the fans love her and like meet her before shows🥹
The Girl Behind the Curtain
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The arena buzzed with excitement as fans filled every seat, eagerly waiting for Billie Eilish to take the stage. You stood just outside the entrance, your heart racing not just because of the impending concert but also because you were Billie’s girlfriend.
After months of dating, you had grown accustomed to the whirlwind of her life, but tonight felt different. Billie had invited you to meet her fans before the show, and although nervous, you were also excited to connect with the people who adored her.
As you stepped into the dimly lit hallway, you were greeted by a group of fans milling about, chatting animatedly. You felt a rush of warmth as they turned to you, their eyes lighting up in recognition.
“Oh my gosh, it’s you!” one girl exclaimed, bouncing on her toes. “You’re Billie’s girlfriend! We love you!”
You smiled shyly, your cheeks heating up at the unexpected praise. “Thank you! It’s nice to meet all of you,” you replied, feeling the weight of their excitement.
Another fan stepped forward, holding out a poster for Billie. “Can we get a picture with you? We want to show her we met you!”
You nodded enthusiastically, and soon, you found yourself surrounded by the fans, posing for selfies and chatting about your favorite moments from Billie’s songs. They were genuinely kind and respectful, asking about how you and Billie met and what it was like being in a relationship with someone so famous.
“It’s amazing,” you shared, your smile growing wider. “She’s incredibly talented and down-to-earth. I’m just lucky to be a part of her world.”
The fans nodded, clearly fascinated by your perspective. They shared their own stories about how Billie’s music had touched their lives, creating an atmosphere of camaraderie that warmed your heart.
After a while, you noticed Billie’s manager approaching, signaling it was almost time for her to go on stage. You felt a flutter of nerves, knowing you’d have to part with the fans soon.
“Thank you all so much for being so welcoming,” you said, feeling grateful. “It really means a lot to me.”
As you made your way back toward the stage entrance, the fans called out their support, wishing you and Billie a great show. Just as you turned the corner, you spotted Billie, her vibrant energy lighting up the hallway.
“There you are!” she exclaimed, wrapping her arms around you in a tight embrace. “How did it go?”
“They’re amazing! They really love you and are so respectful,” you said, your voice bubbling with excitement.
“I’m glad to hear that!” Billie grinned, her eyes sparkling with pride. “I knew they’d love you.”
You shared a moment of connection before the concert, where the anticipation was palpable. As the lights dimmed and the crowd roared, you felt a sense of belonging in this wild world of fame—both as Billie’s girlfriend and as someone who had earned the love and respect of her fans.
As Billie stepped onto the stage, you cheered her on, knowing that you were not just a part of her life but also a cherished member of this incredible community that admired her so deeply.
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nimnia · 3 months ago
Text
cl⚝se c⚝ll
▹ synopsis : as an idol, it's normal for you to get noticed when certain moments happen with your group member. in this case, however, you and hanni are certainly getting viral because of your near-kiss moments from your phoning livestream.
▹ genre : fluff
▹ a/n : as y'all notice, there are a lot of things getting edited esp the theme and shits cuz idk.. what the hell is wrong with me lol ANYWAYS live, love, laugh forever with the girls hanni <3
› masterlist
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the room was filled with the warm buzz of excitement, the familiar hum of the “phoning” group live streaming setting everything into motion.
the girls sat in a semicircle, laughing and chatting animatedly, each member taking turns reading comments and responding to fans. the atmosphere was lively, filled with their natural camaraderie.
you sat beside hanni, your shoulder occasionally brushing against the older girl's arm. their closeness felt easy and comfortable.
you didn’t think much of it, too focused on the comments rolling in on the phone screen and the laughter bubbling up around them.
“so, what’s everyone’s favorite song right now?” minji asked, her eyes sparkling with curiosity. each member took turns answering, their voices overlapping in a chorus of different songs.
hanni turned to you with a bright smile. “what about you, y/n?” she asked, leaning in closer than usual to hear your answer.
their faces were inches apart, and for a moment, time seemed to slow down.
you turned your head at the same time, not realizing how close hanni was. your noses brushed, and lips were a breath away from meeting.
neither of you noticed the proximity. it was a fleeting moment, too short to register, but just long enough for the fans watching live to catch it. the chat exploded in a frenzy of heart emojis and shocked messages.
the rest of the members were too busy talking to notice, but you and hanni stayed unaware of what had just almost happened.
─────
a few days later, they were back on another “phoning” live, sitting in the same positions. you and hanni ended up next to each other again, something that was becoming a regular occurrence.
this time, though, there was something different.
hanni seemed quieter, her usual bubbly self slightly subdued. she kept stealing glances at you, her cheeks pink whenever she did.
you, however, were focused on the comments, your face lit up as you read through the fan questions.
“oh, this one’s fun,” you said, leaning closer to the screen to read it out loud. without realizing it, you shifted even closer to hanni.
hanni turned her head to answer the question, and again, your faces were only inches apart. the memory of the last close-call made hanni’s heart race, a flush spreading across her cheeks.
she froze, caught between wanting to pull back and the strange, magnetic pull she felt toward you.
you noticed the sudden stillness and glanced at hanni, your brows furrowing in concern. “unnie, are you okay?” you asked. the genuine worry in your voice made hanni’s heart skip a beat.
she quickly nodded, tearing her gaze away, focusing intently on the screen.
“yeah, i’m fine,” hanni replied, her voice sounding a little higher than usual. you didn’t push, but the fans caught it all.
the chat buzzed with speculation, comments flooding in about hanni’s flustered reaction.
─────
the next time they did another live, hanni tried to be more careful. she made a mental note to sit a little further from you, just to avoid any more close calls.
but somehow, as the night went on and the conversation flowed, she found herself inching closer again. it was like a magnet, pulling her in without her realizing it.
you seemed oblivious to the subtle tension. you were in your element, joking around and reading fan comments with your usual cheerful demeanor.
as the live went on, you noticed a question in the chat and smirked playfully.
“someone asked if hanni and i are the best of friends or something more,” you read aloud, your tone teasing. you turned to hanni with a mischievous glint in your eyes.
“what do you think, unnie?”
hanni’s eyes widened, her heart thumping wildly in her chest. you were looking at her with that soft, teasing smile, the one that made her feel like the air had been knocked out of her lungs.
“i—uh, we’re—” hanni stammered, her face heating up as she struggled to find words.
you leaned in closer, your voice dropping to a whisper meant only for hanni. “you’re blushing, unnie,” you said, your tone light, but there was something else there too. something that made hanni’s breath catch.
the fans went wild, the chat a blur of excitement. hanni’s reaction was everything they had hoped for, her face turning an even deeper shade of red.
you chuckled softly, satisfied with your playful tease, but your gaze lingered on hanni for a moment longer, an unreadable expression in your eyes.
hanni couldn’t meet your gaze, her mind a swirl of confusion and the unfamiliar fluttering in her chest. she tried to focus on anything but your lingering presence beside her, the warmth of their closeness.
the live went on, filled with laughter and more lighthearted moments, but the memory of your words and the almost-kiss moments lingered, leaving both girls with thoughts they couldn’t quite shake.
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rotandguts · 1 year ago
Text
✶ ┄ DRIVING IN CARS WITH BOYS
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danny (evil dead rise) x fem!reader
summary: a workplace camaraderie spurs a string of late night drives with danny, each one bringing you closer to realising your feelings for one another.
word count: 8.3k
warnings: 18+ mdni, nsfw, semi-public sex, car sex, oral (m receiving), masturbation (f receiving), lowkey sexting lol, degradation if u squint tbh, mention of masturbation (m), DANNY IS 18+
A/N: okay so, i’ve just want to discuss how i’ve written danny but i just want to emphasise that i don’t want to erase the fact that he’s literally trans. i don’t have enough expertise writing from a trans point of view imo as i’m a cis female and i don’t want it to be offensive or tacky in anyway. so for this purpose i’ve just written danny as having a dick but i know how difficult it is for the trans community, especially trans youths and those with low income to receive certain types of gender affirming surgery and don’t want to just dismiss that. i hope that’s okay with everyone if anyone has any advice or anything lemme know!
publishing date ―  may 22nd, 2023 |  © rotandguts
When Danny first got his licence, he took any chance he got to drive the family’s Buick Roadsmaster. While not as impressive as some of the vehicles his classmates had, the fact he was even able to access a car with the income his family possessed was enough for him. It also explained why he was still living with his mom while attending college.
To help his mother he’d taken to working at the local Henrietta’s pizza joint, making enough to just make ends meet. In combination with whatever DJing side gigs he could get, he was slowly starting to save up. Aside from monetary gain, the part time job also gave him a new social life. Everyone who worked there was a little older, working to save during college like himself. It gave him the chance to speak to others in a space away from class, and the job itself was pretty easy anyway - due to his ability to drive he’d get sent out on deliveries most of the time.
Normally he’d be fine with this, getting paid hourly plus keeping the tips he got from going door to door (minus the occasional inconvenience from a few annoying assholes or prank calls). But he started to actually miss joking around in the kitchen or front desk with his co-workers. Danny was by no means unpopular, he had his own small friendship group from high school that kept him steady, but meeting new people he genuinely got along with was nice.  He was generally of a shy disposition, not one to reach out to others naturally, but a fiercely proud friend when you got to know him.
One person he began to miss in particular, was you. He’d recognised you from a few of his old high school classes, more on the quiet side like himself, usually folded over scribbling into your textbook. You were the only other person around his age working in Henrietta’s. He remembered that in school you kept to yourself but had plenty of friends on the committees you were on. Danny had remembered you were involved from an assembly talking about yearbook and prom committee, he thinks. He only attended after being threatened with detention if he skipped out to smoke under the bleachers with his friends. At work, you were the most talkative person there. He could tell how you had easily adapted in the extracurricular groups you were a part of from that skill alone.
Danny couldn’t really say he had ever tried to talk to you in school before, but when you both got to talking you would later admit that you hadn’t really made an effort to approach him either.
You had been working at Henrietta’s for similar reasons as Danny, you had initially joined in high school to save money to support yourself in college. After working there the past few years now, you’d seen classmates from both high school and college come and go but never really struck up a true friendship with them other than a wave or smile in the school hallways. All the other long term workers were post-graduates unable to put their diplomas to use and while it was handy for getting invited to college parties - you certainly felt a disconnect.
But then there was Danny.
Shy, kind, attractive Danny. You would be lying if you said you’d never noticed him in school. He was that one quiet cool kid that everyone just kind of liked. Good taste in music, if you could remember correctly. As soon as you got home from your first shift together you’d made sure to stalk all of his socials, he was kind of artsy - not quite goth but not quite full blown skater boy. He was rarely seen on his own Instagram, instead filling with pictures of his friends or gigs he’d been to. You bit your lip, growing only more curious about the blonde boy, head filling with speculation about his taste in romantic partners or what he’d be like behind closed doors.
You remembered the first day he’d walked in with the hairstyle he sported so casually now. He wore it so well compared to the dark brown mop he used to have. You’d never really noticed the boys or girls in your class before as being particularly attractive, but Danny walking in with that haircut and his new skater-ish look was like a breath of fresh air.  
This bubbling attraction was never indicated or acted upon until both of you were on kitchen duty during a quiet Sunday night shift. Danny had found that you liked to playfully bicker, it was like vocal tennis to you. Each of you began to find things to make the other flustered, never hitting too below the belt.
Both of you had been tiptoeing on a dangerous line, comments almost falling into uncharted territory. Running out of options to make him squirm, you turned around and admitted, “I actually remember when you came into class with that mullet for the first time. I thought it was super hot.” He froze, not sure how to respond. Were you actually flirting with him? Was this just part of the joke? Instinctively running his hands through his hair, he thought of a quick response.
“Thanks, I guess. Yeah, I liked when you had streaks in your hair.” You had briefly followed the TikTok trend coming back to high school after lockdown, two platinum blonde streaks framing your face. You raised your eyebrows. “Daniel! You’re like, totally obsessed with me!” You giggled, tucking hair behind your ear. Danny, blushing, shrugged and diverted his eyes to the task at hand.
“I could literally say the same for you. Still think my hair is super hot?” He smirked, looking up at her across the small divide of the work station. “Yeah, I do.” She smiled back.
From here, a light flirtation began to intertwine with the duo’s constant bickering, quickly leading to them becoming close. Their co-workers had begun to notice that they’d swap shifts in order to be together, not that either of them would admit that. As long as they were getting the work done, nobody cared. They were a dynamic duo in the workplace, known to close the building in record time and maintain high sales during quiet days. Slowly, you had both began to be left in charge of the store on a Sunday closing shift.
Naturally, he’d offer to give you a ride home. You didn’t live too far from him and if his mom had found out he’d left you alone to get a bus or walk home she would’ve killed him. It was a win-win, and he was always grateful for the time he spent with you alone. Along the way, there would occasionally be a late night detour to McDonalds or whatever fast food place that would be open at the time, both of you sick of pizzas after long shifts spent in the kitchen.
In the parking lot within the safe confines of the family car, you’d gossip about classmates and co-workers and sing loud to your heart's content to whatever CDs he had lying around. Sometimes he’d play his new mixes for you, eager to hear your thoughts. One night after playing you his newest mix, nervously playing with the clutch, you placed your hand on top of his.
“I really appreciate you playing me these by the way. Like genuinely, I really like them.” You smiled, and he smiled back. It was no secret that he was very shy about playing others his music, the only time it felt natural was when he did do a DJ gig somewhere (thanks to the fake ID his aunt Beth got him). He was desperate to play it cool, but his hands clammy at your touch indicated otherwise.
“Thanks man.” He started the ignition, leading you to jump slightly and remove your hand. He could still feel the ghost of it when he began to drive away, willing you to place it back again. But the soft feeling of your palm never returned.
“Really… Thanks for everything, Dan. It means a lot to me.” You continued, your eyes on the road now like his should have been, only distracted so he could take short discreet glances at you. “I’m glad we met.”
“What was that?” He teased, pretending not to hear her. She lightly nudged him, “Har-har, very funny.”
“Yeah whatever. Really glad you’ve become my passenger princess,” You turn around to look at him through eyelashes, head pressed against the headrest. You couldn’t help but note how good he looked with the dimmed lighting of the street lights at night.
“The only reason I keep you around is ‘cause you keep leaving your shit in the car all the time, so I have to hang around you ‘cause my mom gets pissy that all this random junk is here.” Danny begins to joke around, picking up a lip gloss you’d left a few shifts ago. “Shit! I was looking for that!” You grabbed it off him, pulling the mirror down to apply it. He scoffed and rolled his eyes, jokingly.
By the time you got to your door, you almost didn't want to leave the car. A lingering thick silence grew and every small creak or sound the car would make emphasised it even further. Despite all these late night car rides or the occasional video call, you barely spoke during the day. It wasn’t like you were purposefully avoiding each other, you were doing different majors and had classes spread across the campus. Nonetheless, you found yourself missing his company.
“I really really meant what I said, Danny.” You promised, “Not teasing you, I promise.”
A faint smile on his lips, he replied “I know.” Silence again for a moment.
“I like teasing you.” He’d said it so quietly you didn’t even know if you’d heard him correctly. His eyes shifted to your figure, your own eyes now glued to the view of the dark empty street from the windshield. You could feel your chest growing heavier, and the burn rising to your cheeks. He continued, “You’re cute when you’re flustered.”
Without thinking, you turned to look at him again. “Yeah, you too Daniel.” You parted from him with a light smack to his arm.
Getting out the car, you sped to your front door. You were dying to turn around to catch his reaction, he always did such a good job of appearing so stoic and then crumbling at the very last moment at any sort of praise sent his way. As much as you tried to resist it, you couldn’t help but glance back at the boy. He was watching you from the car window, rosy cheeked and eyes hopeful.
But you couldn’t just leave him with that. As much as you desperately wanted to appear cool and mysterious, there was a part of you that clung to any interaction with him you could get. It’s what made you both so reluctant to hang up on each other during the occasional late night video call, only thwarted by Ellie politely reminding Danny he was keeping the other members of the household awake with his laughter.
Running back to the car trying not to trip over your own two feet, you hoped he couldn’t sense your own nervousness. You bang on the window, with Danny already in the process of rolling it down.
Air cold and still, lights dim.
“Thanks for the ride.” Leaning in, you pressed your glossy lips earnestly to his warm cheek. For a moment as you pulled away slowly, you could feel how close your faces were to each other. His breath on your face, you waited for anything to happen. “Y-yeah, no worries man.” Rushing back to your home, you couldn’t tell if you’d accomplished your goal or not. On one hand, he was flustered - it was obvious. But on the other, you’d almost wished he’d done something, anything, to keep you talking to him.
A few days went by with you beginning to narrowly miss each other at work, he would finish as you started or likewise. You hoped it wasn’t purposeful, although you’d admit that you hadn’t bothered to change any of your shifts since that night.
Legs hanging off the bed, you had been relaxing after a long day of kind-of studying. The fact you’d bothered to get the textbook out at all had seemed like a cause for celebration for you. Toying with the thought of teasing Dan via text, you were surprised to find the boy had already texted you.
DANNY
outside.
(sent at 23:04)
now
(sent at 23:05)
Alert, you stumbled your way to your bedroom window, legs still half dead from just lying around. And there it was, the trusty family Buick parked right outside. You could see his arm hanging from the window, fingers strumming something onto the car door. Those fingers had been thought about many times when Danny was on your mind. Long and kind of skinny, you imagined how they looked on the record decks he spent so much of his free time over.
Spinning the record, a single digit softly pressing down on the smooth ridge. How did he control them? Was he soft when he did it? Did he tug the record ever so slightly? Was he a little messy with his strokes? How much pressure did he apply? Did the rhythm depend on the listener?
This was going too far. And plus, you were keeping him waiting.
“Hurry the fuck up, I’m starving bro.” He whined as soon as your figure appeared in your front doorway.
“I ate already Dan,” Still searching for an explanation.
“Okay? Damn, you can watch me eat then! Just hurry up!” He nudged the horn, causing you to both jump. “I didn’t think that would be enough pressure to be honest, that kinda scared me too.” He admitted.
He was a little rough, you thought. Good to know.
“Why the fuck are you here, dumbass? I’ve got class in the morning.” You folded your arms, still not making any effort to get in the vehicle.
“I miss you, obviously.” He shrugged, as if it really was the most obvious thing in the world. It was like you could hear your heart ping inside you when he said that. You were starting to hate the recent way he’d been making you feel. He was certainly winning the teasing game.
You rolled your eyes, you were going to fight for this. “Danny, if you want to fuck me that badly you just need to ask.”
“Fuck off, I’m starving. I thought you loved me.” He pouted. Damn, he was good. Maybe this was all it was to him really, just a game. Maybe this is how he’s trying to set boundaries to imply you should just be platonic. Secretly, you hoped he wasn’t.
You huffed, “Fine.” And now both of you were driving to god knows what fast food place.
“Is your mom not pissed at you just taking the car all the time?” He shrugged off the question. “As long as I’m paying for the gas, she doesn’t care.” You hadn’t actually met her, despite hearing stories about her.
“Does she get annoyed at you coming home so late?” You were lightly prodding, not necessarily to simply tease but just to get a better picture of what it was like for him. He seemed once again unbothered when he responded, “I’m really good at staying quiet.”
“Aren’t you meant to be a DJ?”
“Yeah, but I guess I’ve had practice in other ways.”
What. The. Fuck.
Respectfully, you didn’t know what to do with that information.
“Gross, I don’t need to hear about all that.” You lightly hit his shoulder, almost frowning selfishly when he didn’t even take his eyes off the road.
“Hear about what?” He feigns ignorance, but you swear you can see a flicker of a smirk on his mouth. “Your sex life, Daniel!”
“Woah woah woah - I never said anything about sex! That’s just all your perverted thoughts, assuming the worst in me.” There it is, there’s that smirk he was so desperate to hide. You try to fight it with an eye roll.
“Dick.”
“God, penis on the goddamned brain! You’re so fuckin’ filthy, babe.” He was obviously joking and yet there was something there that had you squirming in the car seat. “Shut up. You win tonight.” His face warms up at your comment, you can’t find it in your heart to truly hate him for it. Your comment only happened to foreshadow what was to come.
By the time Danny gets and finishes his food, you’re both sitting in silence in some darkened car park. This is no different from the usual after work trips, but something really seems different in the air.
The silence was peaceful, almost kind of soothing. For a second, it felt like you two might be the only two people left at the end of the world. Of course, this wasn’t the apocalypse and the biggest hurdle in your life at the moment was the internal battle with your feelings for the boy seated beside you.
His hands were still gripping the steering wheel but the car was in a static standstill. You hoped he was just as nervous as you were.
“I’ve been thinking about what you were saying, by the way.” He finally spoke, causing your head to turn to him.
“I say a lot of things, Dan. Gonna have to be more specific.” A smug smile greeting him when he turned around to meet your waiting eyes. He sent a blank look your way, taken out of context it would’ve seemed like he was actually fed up with you.
“Like, the whole spending time with you thing. I’m glad we met too.” You couldn’t help but bite your lip, looking at him through long lashes, an almost siren’s gaze. “Danny, it seems like you’ve gone all soft on me.”
He almost cringed at your words. If there had been one thing that Danny had been when he’d been thinking about you recently it definitely wasn’t soft. He prayed that you weren’t secretly a mind reader, but you could tell you had prodded enough from the way the atmosphere shifted.
“I like going on these drives with you, it helps me clear my mind I guess.” Danny continued to play with the leather of the steering wheel. As bad as it sounds, he’d found a spot he could lightly rip up with his nails and it became his new fixation when he was fidgeting. “And I was maybe wondering if you’d like to go on more of them. With me… not just like after work or anything.” He stuttered, kind of scared to meet your gaze again. One thing he hated was how much you made him squirm. You had a specific talent for making him nervous, but at the same time the feeling was so addictive that he didn’t want you to stop.
“Is this like you asking me on a date?” Brows raised, your fingers fell to the hem of your shirt subconsciously doing the same fidgeting that Danny was performing in front of you.
“No! Not like, I don’t mean anything like pervy or that despite what I was, like, joking about-” He moved in defence, his hands raised as if to block her joke from reaching him.
“I’m fucking with you. You know I love our drives, they’re our drives.” You said it with such conviction that despite not really saying anything he completely understood what you meant. These little trips no matter how far they went felt special to them.
He softly chuckled, feeling like whatever barrier he’d been putting up was falling. “You’re obsessed with me.”
“Shut the fuck up, Danny.”
“It’s okay! I’m a little obsessed with you too! We can be mutually obsessed with each other - that’s how friendships work!” For a moment, you realised that maybe the way he spoke to you - the way you spoke to each other - was what kept you coming back to him. He was attractive, sure, but something was so free about the way you could speak around each other.
But also, god, he was so attractive.
He leaned back against the headrest, you took the time to appreciate his soft jaw. Those damn pink lips. As much as you’d been trying to not admit it you were desperate to feel them on your neck. There was nothing more you wanted right now than to lean over and kiss him with such ferocity that you’d both forget your own names.
You most definitely shouldn’t be feeling these ways. Aside from him being a friend, he was a co-worker. Relationships like that always ended so messily.
“I think I pity you actually, why do you have to stay so quiet, Dan? Couldn’t have been good if they didn’t even make you moan.”
“I didn’t say they couldn’t make me, I just said I was good at being quiet.” You both paused for a moment, where did you go from here? You could open Pandora's box, and let out whatever tension you’ve been feeling or you could stay within the safety of his friendship.
“Was hard for them to stay quiet though.” Your chest tightened, you felt like all of the air had disappeared in the car.
Holy shit.
“I’m sure they managed just fine.” Managing to choke out a swift comeback, trying to appear as sardonic as you possibly could. “Yeah, my hand sure helped.”
Another blow to the system. He was good at this.
He shifted, like he was preparing for his next hit. “You talk too much to be quiet, I think.” Another stab to your chest, screw him. You were going for the kill.
“Maybe I just need a helping hand.” Your eyes shifted to his own hands, still on the wheel. He’d noticed. He was coming for blood.
“That can be arranged, sweetheart.” If this was Mortal Kombat, his streak would be unreal. “I don’t think you’d be able to handle me.” You countered, you were ashamed to admit you were losing the fight. “I think I’m a little too wild for you, Dan.”
“Prove it.”
The killing blow.
If this was a film, this would be the part where you pounce on each other and fight for dominance with your tongues. But this is not a movie, and as passionate as that sounds, the thought of your tongue as some sort of roman gladiator kind of made you feel icky.
All you could do was respond with exhaling a breath you never realised you were holding, kind of amused. You tilted your head as if to say, ‘touché’.
And that was that.
He got you home safely as he would any other night, watching you as you entered the house. Through the peephole, you could see him linger for a moment staring at your door. He rested his head once again on the headrest, this time looking exasperated. Running a hand through his platinum hair, he started the engine and left.
Bed sheets twisted in hand, you weren’t proud to admit just how much of an effect his words had on you. But lying there, your fingers softly playing with your clit, you didn’t really feel guilty either. You thought once again of his own fingers on you, a little rough with you. The rhythm of them as they throbbed within you, he’d know exactly what tempo would ruin you.
Initially you were concerned about looking him in the eyes the next time you saw him, but when you got another good look at him that feeling quickly went away. He was intoxicating to be around. How were you this down bad for him?
The rides continued as normal, if not more frequently now. Always tiptoeing on the line between playful banter and the most delicious flirtation you’d ever partaken in was like whiplash. But you couldn’t stop.
Speculation about the other's sex life could be tried and tested, each playful answer given offering a thrilling image that would be used to fuel lonely fantasies behind bedroom doors.
After you had to travel to Oregon for a family emergency, contact with Danny again grew to a halt. It wasn’t like you were desperate to speak to him all the time but in the moments you weren’t busy, he was usually at work, in classes or looking after his sisters.
DANNY
miss u u massive fucking loser
(sent at 22:37)
YOU
die
(seen at 22:39)
miss you too
(seen at 22:39)
how is life without me?
(seen at 22:39)
DANNY
sucks
(sent at 22:39)
going to strangle bridget if she comes into my room one more time perhaps
(sent at 22:40)
as soon as ur back in the state ur getting ur cute little ass into my goddamn car and i am going drive u all around the city
(sent at 22:40)
YOU
that’s kidnapping?
(seen at 22:40)
DANNY
cry about it
(sent at 22:40)
what did u do today my beloved?
(sent at 22:41)
YOU
shopped for lingerie
(seen at 22:41)
It hadn’t been a lie, you had visited the local mall and picked up some stuff - some of it had just happened to be nice underwear.
DANNY
HOT
(sent at 22:42)
send pics
(sent at 22:43)
There was a great potential here that you had to consider. Danny could literally just be joking, this wasn’t too far out of the things you usually teased each other with. But, at the same time you wondered if this would be a good way of getting back at him for making you squirm. Would you be crossing a line if you sent one or two unsuggestive pictures to him?
When the pictures were delivered, two of you in different sets of lingerie, he almost dropped his phone. You’d be the fucking death of him.
After a few minutes of no response but the screen indicating they had been seen, you began to panic. Fuck, what if this had all back fired? Were these unsolicited despite what he had said? Were you too dumb to read between the lines?
YOU
heyyyy you good lol
(sent at 22:52)
sorry if that was too much
(sent at 22:53)
Still a few more moments of no response. Until, both turned to (seen at 22:56).
DANNY
no sorry! i was helping my mom with make dinner
(sent at 22:56)
YOU
dinner at 11pm?
(seen at 22:57)
DANNY
we’re a hungry bunch
(sent at 23:00)
Biting your lip, all you could do right now so far away from seeing his actual reaction was take his word for it. Your phone pinged with a new notification.
DANNY sent a photo.
It was similar to what you’d sent, with him being shirtless and in his boxers. He’d taken it from a mirror, kneeling on the floor - tattoos on display. The things you would do right now to be in that room on your knees were unspeakable.
YOU
cold in there?
(seen at 23:02)
DANNY
freezing
(sent at 23:02)
need someone in new lingerie to come warm me up i guess
(sent at 23:03)
Initially, you typed out ‘good luck with that’ but paused before you hit send. You couldn’t just let this escape you anymore.
YOU
i’ll be home soon
(seen at 23:06)
After that, you could hardly wait to see him. None of your other chats after that quite reached that level of promiscuity. You were craving even more of him after seeing him like that. No longer did you need to imagine what he looked like under the uniform.
It wasn’t long until you were back in Los Angeles and already getting ready for him to come pick you up. You’d thrown on a cute white milkmaid summer dress, trying to look effortless despite you having the outfit planned for your return since that night you exchanged pictures. The new lingerie was incorporated as well, of course. Even if nothing came of all this, you were going to go out there knowing you looked damn good. A red cardigan was added on top, giving enough coverage for the hot LA nights.
You practically jumped into the car when he pulled up outside your house, shouting to nobody in particular that you would be out late tonight.
Cheshire cat-like grin on his face, just being beside him again made you remember just how much you missed him. “Hey,” He began, starting the ignition.
“Miss me?” You winked, hand softly playing with the back of his mullet for a moment as if you were greeting a pet. “You don’t know the half of it, babe.”
“Where are we heading for food?” You enquired, nothing had really been planned beyond just seeing each other. “Well actually, I was gonna ask if you wanted to come to mine for dinner tonight. My mom is working super late so, um, she invited you. Means we can still go on a drive til she gets home.”
Beaming, you immediately started nodding. “Oh my god, Danny! You’ve been talking to your mama about me.”
“Not like we spend most of our time with each other.”
“You’re obsessed! How long have I been saying this?” Smug assertion rolling off your tongue so easily, you realised you hadn’t actually answered the question. “Yeah, I’d love to come.” He smiled.
“Where are you thinking of going in the meantime?” You began to play with the hem of your dress, lifting it ever so slightly to expose more of your thigh. His eyes flickered to the new skin on show, thinking of you in those photos again. “Um, takeaway milkshakes in the park sound good?”
“Sounds great, actually.” And so off you went.
He picked strawberry, you picked vanilla. You were sitting in covered darkness, the overhead light of the car on to allow you to see one another. Sneaking glimpses of each other as you finished the drinks, giggling when you caught the other.
“What’s in Oregon?” He asks, all you’d been talking about up to that point was the workplace gossip you’d missed during your time away. You shrugged, “Parents are from there. I grew up there actually, I go back and forth occasionally.” You stopped to take a slurp of the sweet beverage.
“My great aunt is ill but its whatever. We’re not close or anything with that side of the family, it’s still sad I guess, but I don’t know. Just not like, to be a downer or anything, y’know?” The boy nodded beside her, “Yeah my mom’s family is kinda distant.”
You knew about his asshole dad disappearing. He spoke about him so little that you didn’t want to pry when he was obviously going through shit that didn’t really concern you. “Her mom, my grandma, she was kind of nuts.”
“Bummer. Fuckin’ stupid family shit, am I right?” You tried to lighten the mood. “Yeah, such a pain in the fucking ass.” He smiled. The mood had obviously taken a nosedive, so you attempted to liven it up a bit.
“I actually lost my virginity in Oregon a few years back.” Hand filing through your hair to push it back from your face, you shook your head. “Was like this stupid guy that knew my cousins. It was terrible.”
“I think I’ve got you beat, mine was in the bathroom at some random gig I went to with a girl from school. We never spoke after it.” Your face dropped, evidently feeling sorry for him. “Don’t feel sorry for me, man, neither of us were feeling it.”
“Wow, I don’t even know where the weirdest place I’ve had sex is, honestly.” Thinking through the few escapades you had partaken in, you realised most had been in homes when parents were out.
“That gig one was probably mine. Actually, I got a blowjob under the bleachers in senior year once, that shit was crazy.” Jealousy struck through your heart, who gave him it? He answered the question for you, “It was Brenda Glemmer.”
That bitch.
“Wow, someone’s jealous.” You hadn’t realised that you’d involuntarily said that last part out loud. “She was a dick to me, my hatred is not blowjob related.” Failing to convince him, he rested a hand on your shoulder in comfort. “Sure thing, babe.”
Rolling your eyes, you suddenly remembered your craziest experience of all. “Actually, I think I have you beat! I once got ate out in a graveyard!”
“Jesus christ, I’m not at all surprised you give such goth gf vibes.” He smirked, finishing his milkshake. “God, what I would’ve given to be that guy.”
Cheeks heated, “Fuck you!” You exclaimed.
“Not if I fuck you first!” That earned a smack and more giggling. He continued, “I knew you were into kinky shit like that.” But when the giggling died down, the deep wanting returned.
“Ever had sex in this car before?” You found yourself staring out into the blackness of the park, your heart beating the fastest you thought it may have ever beaten.
“No, can’t say I have.” His hands are clutching the wheel again. “Thought about it, though.”
“Oh really?” You were on full autopilot mode now, the words exiting your mouth only coming out as an act of self preservation in case you pass out from nervousness.
“You know I’ve thought about it.”
You turn to look at him, and there he was, already waiting for you. “You really should do something about it then.”
“Maybe I’m worried the girl I like doesn’t want it like I want it.”
“I think she needs it more than she needs to fucking breathe, Danny.”
And that was that.
Lips desperately pressed to one another, needy to taste what you had been anticipating for months now. His face was just as warm as yours, the heat only adding to the feverish feeling.
You tasted like vanilla and sweetness, like sunset and cinnamon. Your hands knotting with his hair, he begged you to tug on it with a groan, you had to comply. It had been a while since you had last kissed anyone, but none had ever even come close to this. Laced with absolute desire and greed from both sides, taking whatever you could both get after wanting it so badly for so long.
His hands began to gently pull the cardigan from your shoulders, throwing it to the backseat before dipping his fingers under the straps of your dress. It was here, unfortunately, you had to stop him.
“Nuh-uh, not here. Too creepy.” You bit your lip, worried that you were out of options.
“I think I know a place.”
Hastily reversing, he sped off in the direction of his own apartment building. The underground carpark often lay abandoned after around 10pm, leaving it an ideal place for a potential late night escapade. His mom would get a ride to the front of the building, meaning if she did come home there would hopefully be zero crossover, especially with him having the remote with him in the glove compartment.  
Right hand dropping to rest on your thigh, you couldn’t help but notice how good he looked with one hand on the wheel, brows furrowed in concentration.
For a moment, it was like neither of you really knew what you were going to do when you got there. You were kind of spoiled for choice, not really ever having a place to yourselves with you both still living with parents. This car granted multiple opportunities - or as Danny was thinking, interesting positions. He needed to try them all.
You could feel your arousal pooling beneath you, while Danny continued through the traffic, you crossed your legs over and began to grind your thighs together for temporary relief. Eyes flicking from the road to your sexually frustrated figure. Slowly, opening your legs ever so slightly, he holds the hem of your dress and lifts it back, exposing the underwear. He recognised it immediately, licking his lips.
“You’re fuckin’ bad.” You smirked at his words, “Like it?”. You feign innocence, twirling a strand of hair with your finger.
Danny groans, moving the hand from your thigh to brush his fingers through his hair. “Yeah, really, really like it.” His fingers go back to trace along your entrance, underwear soaked already. You couldn’t even feel embarrassed, not when the fingers you had been imagining on you for so long were touching you like this.
Your hand hovers over his own, and you press his digits into your cunt. You emit a dark sigh, a noise that makes Danny want to pull over and fuck you on the sidewalk out in the open. Guiding his hand against you, working you up into the unspeakable rhythm, you begin to knead your breast with your other hand. Feeling delirious with goosebumps growing on your skin, you lean forward to press kisses against his neck. Tongue flicking under his silver chain that you’ve been dying to taste for so long. “Stop distracting me,” He groans, without doing anything to stop you.
He was pushing a little harder on the peddle, doing everything in his power to not get lost in the view of your cleavage, knuckles white wrapped around the wheel.
After what felt like a lifetime, the car pulled into the darkened garage. He fumbled with the remote, almost dropping it in a rapid attempt to press the button. The buzz of the gate finally indicated, the shutter lifting.  With that, you guessed your fate was sealed.
Danny made sure to park in the far back, if anyone did come down here they would hopefully have a hard time noticing the pair.
As soon as the keys were turned, Danny was pulling you into his lap. You started to rock your hips on him, not applying too much pressure in a further attempt to torment him.
“Too scared to take me upstairs to meet mommy right now?” You teased, running your hands through his hair. He made no effort to hide how much pleasure the sensation was giving him. “Just absolutely desperate to fuck you right now, if I’m being honest.” He was almost breathless, struggling to get the words out with you grinding on him the way you were.
You smirked, his right hand travelling from your hips, to your breast, to your neck. “So, so pretty.”
You stopped him, desperate to ask him a question that had been playing on your mind since it happened. “Were you really helping your mom with dinner when I sent those pictures?”
“Fuck no, they were saved to my camera roll the second they came through.” You scoffed. “I fucking knew it!”
“Yeah, yeah. As if it was hard.” He holds your hips down onto his own and for the first time you feel the thickness under you. Both of you breathing wildly, grinding into each other, knowing there's still far more to even come. It was exhilarating.
“I think I know something else that might be really hard right now.” Here you were, working yourself up on his lap. You were sure your wetness had soaked through his shorts. “Wonder whose fault that is?”
Your lips were back on his, and immediately it was like another hit of the most powerful drug. The way he moved with you, his grip on you was egging you on even more. You wanted to be so bad for him.
His fingers once again fell to your underwear, pushing them aside to feel just how wet you really were. “Fuck.” He murmured, beginning to rub his thumb over your clit. “Danny,” You moaned in retaliation.
Without warning, he sunk his middle and index fingers into you. Slowly pulsating inside you, you gasp for air. Falling back and-
BEEEEEEEP
The sound of you pressing against the wheel causes you both to jump, but also causes Danny’s fingers to go further inside you - leading to another moan.
You both giggle, not stopping with the new depth and pace as we works up into you. “I seriously need to stop doing that.” You fall against him, forehead placed against the other. “Wanted to feel you for so long.” He mumbles.
“Mhmm?” You were in too much bliss to properly respond as he nodded, “Feels good?” You nodded in return. He starts to suck on your neck, biting the areas you react the most to. You thought this feeling of closeness was unobtainable, yet here you were with him.
Pressing a light kiss, you whine when he removes his fingers from beneath you. He lifts his index to his mouth, licking it. “You taste fucking amazing,” Danny smiles at your wide eyes. “You want a taste?” Again, you nod. He places the two fingers in your own mouth. “Suck, baby.” He commands you and you follow without hesitation. His jaw goes slack at the sight of your sucking his fingers, tongue making little circles around his fingertips to show what you’re capable of.
Letting them go, you mumble, “I think I wanna go in the back seat, Dan.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah, wanna taste your cock.” Well, that’ll do it. You’re practically launched backwards through the small gap to get to the back of the car. Danny instead swings the driver side door open, ejecting the chair forward and climbs in on top of you. Pinning you down, you reach for his dick as his hands grip your waist. Kissing you with a ferocity somehow not even present in the kisses from before, he presses you against him.
Pulling away to gasp for air, with your help Danny yanks his sweater and baggy t-shirt off in one fell swoop. His shorts get thrown on the floor, leaving him in his boxers. He reaches for the zip of your dress, pulling the straps down and ripping it off your body right from under you. “I’ve been thinking about you in this everyday since you sent me that picture.” He plays with the straps of bra, noses touching and breath light on your face. His soft eyes on your figure, taking a moment to take it all in.
“Well, maybe three times a day.” You softly smack his chest as you fall into him, giggling as he plays with the hooks at the back. You shake the bra off and reach for your underwear, leaving you totally exposed. Danny, giving a second to take in the view of your naked body, pulls down the waistband of his underwear. From the immediate sight of his cock, precum dripping from the tip, you’re compelled to lick it.
On your knees beside him in the back seat, you lick a stripe up the length of him before taking him in your mouth. You stay like this, head bobbing as he grabs a chunk of your hair and gently guides you with the other hand on your head. With a little difficulty, you look up at him, his head thrown back on the headrest and his mouth stuck in the shape of an ‘O’.
“Stop, stop. Fuck, c’mere.” He picks your torso up by your arms and guides your lips back to his, before pulling your legs over so you’re now straddling him.
Rubbing his length against your clit, he begins to suck on more bare spaces around your neck and chest. You hold his head as you rock into him.
“Danny, I can’t- I need to feel you now.” He nods hastily, and positions himself under you.
You lower yourself onto him, letting out a guttural moan at the feeling of him filling you. You wrap yourself around him as he grits his teeth, holding your hips as you start to ride him.
Face buried in his neck, you whimper as you set a steady pace, fingers twisted tightly in that blonde mullet you loved so much. Your knees dig into the seat, you can feel yourself coming undone.
He rips your head from the crevice, getting a good look at you as he starts to take the lead and rolls up into you.
“Such a pretty baby,” His hand wraps around your jaw, squeezing your cheeks. The hand drops to your neck, as his other wraps around your thigh, giving more guidance. “Keep talking,” You struggle out, fucking yourself into him at this point. By this point the windows are fogged and you’re sure the car is rocking by now.
Your fingers wrap around his hand on your neck, begging him to hold it a little tighter, a little rougher. He tuts, before connecting his hand to your backside with a loud smack.
“You’re fuckin filthy, you know that?”
“Yes, yes, Danny, fuck!”
“Fuck, you’re better than anything I ever imagined.” With two taps to your waist, you both stop. You’re evidently growing weaker, all fucked out on his dick. He flips you around so your back is lying on the seat. You’re all sprawled out in front of him, hair kind of crazy, but he swears to god he’s never been more attracted to any human being ever.
He presses himself down on top of you, balancing his weight so you’re not crushed but something feels so intimate about the way he’s on you.
Smiling again, he plants out of time kisses onto your lips whenever he can. Forearm above your head to keep him balanced, palm lovingly on your crown to support you. His eyes watching your face closely, this was it. Fuck, this was really it.
The feeling that could only be explained as a tidal wave of wet hot rising, Danny’s pace guiding it to where it needed to go.
“I’m gonna, fuck, I’m gonna cum.” He whimpers, picking up his pace while still visibly shaking. You pull his forehead down to yours as he continues to work his hips into you. Your thighs are holstered far above his hips, offering a perfect angle for you both. The feeling of him filling you up was enough to send you over the edge.
“Dan, shit, me too.”
“C’mon baby, needed this for so long. It’s always been you.” With those finishing words, you couldn’t hold back any longer. Body shaking with the orgasm rippling through you, Danny beginning to come down from his own.
For a while, you both sat in the corners of the back seat, as if you were boxers in a ring. Your eyes stayed trained on each other’s bodies as you caught your breaths.
You crawl over to him, finally resting in the space between his legs as his arms wrap around your body.
“Do you think it would be awkward if I could stay the night?” You finally announced. You turned to face him. “It wouldn’t be, like, weird if we slept in the same bed, right?”
“My dick was literally just inside you.” His palm resting on your jaw, lovingly stroking his thumb over your cheek. “And? Maybe you hated it!” He shook his head, “That was the best thing I’ve probably ever experienced in my life.” He left a kiss on your jaw, where the ghost of his fingers still lingered.
His mom probably would be fine with her staying as well, seeing as she wasn’t really judgy with the whole boy and girl sleepover thing.
“Just a fair warning, my sisters are a fuckin’ pain in the ass.” He shook you off him, beginning to locate both of your scattered clothing and collect yourselves. “That’s cool. I’m excited to meet them.”
For a second, he watched you get ready, still eyeing your body. Your neck and chest were covered in purple markings left by him. He smiled wistfully, appreciating his work along with your figure. You clocked him watching and rolled your eyes, “Perv.”
“You’re cute.” He skimmed his hands over each one, as if it was the world’s most abstract dot-to-dot puzzle. You realised just how many hickies covered you. “Fuckin’ asshole.” Before he could grab it, you snatched his sweatshirt from beside him, offering you more coverage than your cardigan would allow. “How the hell am I gonna cover these up when I see your mom?” Danny shrugged once again, still finding the whole situation amusing and honestly, kinda hot.
“Just say it’s a birthmark,” He began to press soft kisses on each hickey. “Or maybe I’ll just have to keep one hand around your neck at all times.” You lightly smacked him, but it didn’t deter him from the task at hand. Your gaze softened, lifting his chin up so you were both eye to eye.
“So obsessed, huh?” He nodded at your words, stealing another kiss from your lips. You’d let him take as much as he wanted of you. “You know it.” And another, and another, until he was kissing every inch of your face as you tried to bat him away.
Leaning into his ear you whisper, “Maybe later, you can show me just how quiet you can be?” He almost growls at your statement, you press a finger to his lips. The promise of more to come was exhilarating to the both of you. He parts with a soft bite to your neck, softer than the ones offered earlier.
He held your hand all the way to the apartment, and in the elevator you nestled into his neck. The feeling of him, his scent, so strong all around you was enough to make you totally intoxicated with the mere thought of him. Looking up, you catch him looking down at you, soft smile playing on his lips.
Yeah, you could get used to this.
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ruxined · 6 days ago
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header by me !
cw : afab r , making out / hickies , mention of saliva once at the end , like 2 curse words , slight implied sex .
e: ellie and r are paired up for a chem project,however things get a more organic reaction
(this is my first fic lmk how it is and some tips if you’d like <3)
You looked around admiring the house as you stood at the porch.It was a pretty normal house honestly and not far from yours,You remember reading the text Ellie sent you before you walked to Her house.
“just knock when you’re here,it’s just gonna be us because i’m home alone for a couple days”
So you did, you knocked and about 2 minutes later Ellie came to the door,dressed in a grey wifebeater tank and some black sweatpants. She leaned slightly on the doorframe , looking you over for a quick second.
“hey, come in”
She said in a quiet monotone but welcoming voice, maybe She was just feeling you out.
You both went inside and up towards Her room,Her house was adorned in timeless and classic decor with pictures of Her and an Older man framed on some of the walls,you just assumed it was Her Father or something.
“this is my room..you can sit and put your stuff anywhere”
She grabs a messy group of papers and Her phone from her desk.
You nod and put your bag down on the floor infront of her bed,sitting on the edge hanging your legs off.Her room was filled with posters and little figurines, some with space related items or dinosaurs. It seemed like She was the nerdy type with a special interest in that kinda stuff even in class.. but You of course, found it cute.
Ellie set up her papers and supplies for the project on her bed,hiking her legs up and sitting across from you on her bed,slightly leaned against the headboard. Her arms flexed with each movement and you tried to keep yourself focused on the task at hand,gently feeling the soft navy blue sheets under you.
“..did you need anything before we start..? ..like food or a snack?”
She tilted her head to the side,Auburn streaks gently fanning her cheeks.
you
“no i’m alright..thanks though”
She nods,starting to write down stuff on her paper. You and ellie talked a handful of times but usually just always ended up paired together in projects or assignments.She couldn’t complain though.. She had always found you pretty attractive and was naturally comfortable around you and just didn’t wanna seem weird or something.
You both started to complete the project, just some chemicals , periodic table blah blah blah.You just couldn’t stop looking at her gorgeous freckles that littered her tanned skin just right, and the way she looked up at you with her greenish hazel puppy eyes, or how her hands were so perfect and how you wonder what her fingers would feel-
“hey..you okay? you’re like..zoning out”
She moves a hair from your face,trying to read your expression.
“yeah u-uhm i’m good! sorry i was just thinking.”
You quickly attempt to poorly hide the fact that you were just caught casually gawking at your study partner.
“right..”
She says softly as she writes down another chemical name.
You both eventually start talking more and getting settled. Ellie is silently noticing how you’re constantly staring at Her lips and how her toned lean muscles flex while she stretches after writing with her pencil.
“..and they have…”
You drag on the sentence, looking up to see Ellie leaning up on the headboard, her tank top riding up barely enough to show her v line.She seemed so clueless and chill but also somehow knew..?
And she did.
“they have…?”
Ellie asks curiously in regards to your unfinished sentence.
“…come right on me.”
It just slipped. You almost didn’t correct yourself because you didn’t realize how outrageous you sounded,Ellie’s facial expressions reminded you quickly.
“what?-
“fuck i meant camaraderie…like they had really good-”
Ellie looks you over for a moment, blinking.
“are you eyefucking me right now or something?”
You freeze in embarrassment. Assuming she probably thinks you’re a weirdo pervert trying to just stare at her instead of studying.
You wouldn’t turn the offer down though.
“no i- im sorry i didn’t-
Ellie leans forward a little closer to you,her eyes flickering down to your parted lips before back up at you in amusement.
“tell me what you want.. like what you actually want.”
You can almost feel her breath on your lips.her eyes gazed into yours and you felt like you could get lost in them forever.You knew you couldn’t lie to her.
“..kiss me..please”
You whined, it came out more breathless than you thought it would and you started to feel the room getting hotter.
Ellie wasted no time gently pressing her plush salmon colored lips onto yours,gently sucking your bottom lip before gently kitten licking it,a silent ask for entrance. She leaned over a little more to get on top of you to kiss you deeper,her hands found their way onto your hips and then your cheeks again,then playing with little strands of your hair. She ran her hands along your body as if she was trying to remember every inch of you,like you’d dissolve in a minute.
“..this is okay right?..we can keep going. if you want.”
Ellie whispered,her warm breath gently hitting the shell of your ear,the faint noise of the chemistry papers falling off the bed was quickly forgotten.
“yeah”
You whisper back.She starts kissing your neck and leaving small marks by your collarbone , nipping at your neck oh so gently while taking her time to find those soft spots that made you feel heat pooling in your lower stomach.
“you’re so beautiful”
She mumbled,wiping the mix of hers and your saliva mixed with your lipgloss / chapstick on the side of your lip,gently pushing you back onto the bed.
let’s just say , you and ellie have really good bed chem.
© All rights belong to ruxined , you may not copy , translate , repost , modify or plagiarize any of my material.
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blackjackkent · 3 months ago
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Prompt fill for @thedarkstrategist from this ask meme: [ 🛁 ] - running them a bath, Shadowzel.
-----
“She is in pain,” Lae’zel says, pacing back and forth before the bar on the Elfsong’s bottom floor. The ale Karlach purchased for her sits undrunk on the wood bartop; she seems to have forgotten its existence. “And it is a pain I do not know how to soothe,” she growls. “It is maddening.”
“Yeah,” Karlach says, watching Lae’zel’s quick, restless movements with an air of sympathy. “Fucking sucks, when someone you care about is hurting. And this kind of hurt… whoof.” She breathes out, rattling her lips heavily. “I lost my parents, back before the Hells, but at least they went… normally, y’know? Bad fever, overturned cart. Things like that happen to people. This, what she had to do… that’s a whole different ball game…”
“This is not helping,” Lae’zel says curtly.
“I’m commiserating,” Karlach says with a slight shrug. “I don’t really have an answer for you. ‘s not the sort of thing you fix.”
Lae’zel comes to an abrupt halt and turns to face Karlach directly. “There must be something,” she says. “I--” She breaks off abruptly and scowls down at the battered slats of the floor. “You know of these things,” she mutters. “I do not. I must have your help.”
“These things?” Karlach cocks her head slowly to one side.
A pause. Lae’zel flushes, her jaw working with frustration at the struggle to articulate her own feelings. “Romance,” she finally says carefully. Another pause, then suddenly rapid, “No. Not romance. Something more. The gentleness that comes with it. I feel the need for it, but do not know…” She falters, her ears flushing a deep olive. “I do not know what to do.”
“Oh.” Karlach would be tempted to smile, were it not for the fact that Lae’zel looks so terribly agitated. “Well, I’ll let you in on the first secret I know,” she says, “which is that we’re all making this the fuck up as we go along. I certainly am.” She nudges the barstool next to her with her boot toe. “C'mon, sit down."
Lae'zel sits abruptly, a soldier obeying orders. Karlach studies her for a moment thoughtfully. "Y'know," she says slowly after a little while, "sometimes when my engine's real bad, Hec'll just... do things for me. Just so I don't have to. Get my dinner served up, or clean out my armor, that sort of thing. And it helps." She rubs at her jaw. "I think, with this sort of shit... it's not about fixing. Not really. It's about... just being there, and holding some of the weight. Helping her keep living, while she sorts it all out."
Lae'zel considers this with narrowed eyes. "Yes," she says slowly.
Karlach's teeth flash in a cautious grin. "We've got a proper bathroom in our rooms upstairs now. You could draw her a bath, bring her dinner after... give her a night not having to think about anything."
Lae'zel nods. "Yes," she repeats. Her whole body is stock-still except for her fingertips which fidget almost imperceptibly against the floral-carved edge of the bar. 
Karlach's smile softens. "The way Hec tells it - it'll make you feel better too," she says gently. "Maybe feel a little less like your head's eating itself alive." She claps Lae'zel on the shoulder. "Look. We're gonna make this happen," she says. "And I'll help. She likes night orchids, right? I'm gonna go right now over to Bonecloaks and shake that woman down for every blossom she's got, and then Jaheira and me'll take the boys off on an adventure for a while. Leave the rooms upstairs all yours till, say, ten o'clock?"
She doesn't expect thanks - the whole crew, by now, is well aware that Lae'zel doesn't tend to say it out loud. What she does get, though, is a sudden tight grip on her forearm from the gith's long-fingered hand; a gesture of camaraderie - or perhaps the clinging of a drowning woman to a driftwood life raft. "That is... generous," Lae'zel mutters.
"Just doing my part to make love bloom," Karlach says airily.
Lae’zel flinches, her color deepening again. “We have not spoken of love,” she says stiffly.
Karlach lifts her eyebrows innocently. “Oh, are we not saying that part out loud yet?” she asks.
“Kainyank…” Lae’zel grumbles, rolling her eyes - but Karlach notices she doesn’t argue the point.
-----
Shadowheart sits on the bed, leaning against the window, her knees drawn to her chest. She’s dimly aware that the others haven’t come back from dinner yet, but it’s hard to muster the energy to care. Ever since the House of Grief, she’s felt drained, empty, surrounded by the shattered pieces of a world she doesn’t know how to reconstruct yet. She feels broken.
There’s the soft sound of a footstep up the stairs. Rustling movement in the center of the shared floor of their lodgings. The sound of running water from the magical taps in the bathroom. Shadowheart ignores it all, focusing her eyes on the progress of a fly climbing up the outside of the window glass. 
Then-- “Shadowheart?”
Something in her heart loosens just a little, hearing Lae’zel’s voice. It’s astonishing, given how they began, the way that Lae’zel has come to mean protection, and understanding, and calm. Lae’zel is safety in a way that none of the others are, because Lae’zel too has had her life taken apart, and the two of them have built a new one out of the ashes. “Yes,” she says softly, forcing herself to stir and lift her head. “I’m here.”
To her surprise, she finds that Lae’zel is standing watching her with a bundle of deep blue flowers in one hand. The gith shifts awkwardly and then sets the plants down on the nearby table. “I--” she says haltingly. A pause, and then she presses on doggedly as if expecting a burst of laughter from some corner at any moment. “All day you have sat here alone. I have drawn you a bath. Will you come?”
“A bath?” Shadowheart tips her head, mildly bemused.
“Yes.” Lae’zel shifts her weight slowly from one foot to the other. Then she adds, almost sheepishly, “Karlach said it would help.” A pause, then so low Shadowheart almost can’t hear it, “Let me help. Please.”
A sudden tight lump settles in Shadowheart’s throat, making it hard to speak. “Lae’zel--”
“I said I would protect you,” Lae’zel mutters. “But there is no enemy to strike. There is only this. These small things. It is not much, but…” 
“No.” Shadowheart slowly uncurls herself from the tight ball in which she has spent the last few hours. The barest hint of a smile pulls at her lips for the first time in days. It’s not about the bath, not really - she didn’t need or even really want one. It’s the reminder that there is more around her than the impenetrable shadow Shar has draped over her world. That Lae’zel is driving it back with both fists, even when she doesn’t think she knows how.
“No,” she repeats softly. “That sounds perfect.”
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aforestescape · 5 months ago
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ghoap x gn!reader
inspired by soaps mic collar. id love to make that man whimper. also i’m a simon lover at heart if you didn’t know:)
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you’re all a few drinks in at the pub, listening to simon bicker on with kyle about some reality show they’d been watching. curtesy the influence of introducing them to your cousins who loved a snarky drama show. if you knew it would have led to heated conversations while you’re busy trying to get drunk, you probably wouldn’t have done it.
you and john share a look of stilted amusement before taking another gulp of your drink. eyes fleeting over the crowded bar until they land on johnny up at the counter. one well defined arm leaned against the counter, far too big for the tight shirt he’s sporting. that award winning grin on his face as he chats with some bloke next to him. you keep your eyes on them, taking a drink again to wash away the feelings that try to surface.
you were the newest addition to the group. somehow you’d ended up staying along with the four men. it wasn’t something you were used to, team dynamics. sticking to one place for so long to actually find yourself enjoying the company of your teammates. you’d always been an expendable asset. more of a freelancer to help assist other teams missions from the sidelines. but you’d found it hard to want to leave after the months long mission you’d been assigned to with 141.
you’d always been intuitive and from the moment you first met them all you could feel something settling inside of you. a small inkling in the back of your mind that you had time to get used to these people. so when the assignment ended and you sat across from price in his office going over last minute paperwork you couldn’t find yourself regretting agreeing to another mission with them.
the added bonus to the camaraderie, the playful banter and dynamics that felt closer to family than that of coworkers was just how attractive they were. simons cold indifference was similar to you in some ways, it’s the type of men you’d gone for in the past. ones who’s shells needed to be slowly cracked open before you could get a glimpse of what might be inside. it was all too easy to give dry laughs back to his terrible dad jokes. to make sure you kept your voice low when you talked to him, fingers moving in rusty form to talk back with him.
he didn’t like speaking. he could, of course. he had to when they were out on the field, during the times when they had to go, go, go with enemies right down the corridor, chasing them down. but when they were back on base, even on nights like tonight he’d be quiet for so long his voice would be hollower than normal when he finally spoke.
and you couldn’t possibly not have noticed the way he looked at johnny. their dynamic felt untouchable to you. how easily they fell into kilter with each other. the way simons eyes always tracked the mohawked man had your eyes following along. wanting to catch a glimpse of the man he saw. maybe a few weeks ago you wouldn’t have understood so much why his gaze felt like it could burn you in proximity.
but now you could. you’re sure your gaze burned just as hard as your eyes stayed on johnny.
johnny was smart, no denying it. he was analytical and loved to run probabilities with you. on the days following your post mission you’d end up sitting next to each other and he’d ask your thoughts on the people passing by. you figured he only sat still long enough because you entertained him as he quickly divulged into ramblings on how the stranger walking by was running late to his meeting since he found the missus’ with the neighbor. he supported her though since the guy was obviously a wanker, look at his scarf.
it’s not until he’s back at the table, drink in hand that he got for free and grinning at you that you decide that professionalism isn’t enough to stop you from what you want. he takes his seat next to you, thick thighs brushing yours as he goes off on a story about what just happened with the guy. you suppose it might be funny because the rest of the group laugh at what he says but your eyes are glued to his neck.
ignoring the rest of the group you lean over to him slightly, cold fingers from touching your drink grazing his neck as you touch the black leather choker round his neck. fingertips slipping past the fabric to hook it in your grasp before tugging on it.
“you like being collared johnny? why’re you still wearing this.”
your eyes track the swallow of his adams apple, trailing up to catch his tongue swipe over his lips and the blue of his eyes.
“can’t take it off myself,” he says, voice quieter than normal. you raise an eyebrow, mind processing as simon picks up to respond.
“i’ve got the key. you wan’ him you’ll have to ask nicely.”
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wrote this a while ago but i wasn’t happy with it so it sat in my drafts. i had a passing in my family recently so my post are probably going to be even more sparse soz
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wisteriagoesvroom · 8 months ago
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what’s the most single most attractive thing about oscar? Then answer for landoscar too?
he’s by his own definition “calculated”, which i also read as cold and detached. that quality in a person, to be able to ignore the noise and channel everything towards winning, is like… really hot lmao idk how else to say it. he’s also very openly ambitious so that smashes my competency kink real bad ngl.
every driver responds differently to the circus of f1 and every driver has to have an element of “i can drop everything and focus” but oscar based on performance is one of the ones i truly believe is capable of tuning almost everything out. the higher the pressure seems to get, the calmer he seems to be. i think it takes an incredible amount of self control for someone so relatively young too.
i mean behaviour-wise if you squint, he’s basically a darcy-adjacent archetype in that way which might explain the appeal. yeah.
and by extension, the reason landoscar is so appealing to me is because it goes against the projection/image that oscar has intentionally set up for the world to see. like, that he’s focused on racing and racing only, and focused on obtaining the WDC. on paper and based on more conventional sports narrative cues lando could be an obstacle or rival for him, or someone oscar should keep his distance with. but he is not cool and detached with lando, he is not indifferent. in fact oscar is almost always the opposite of that — lando can be unpredictable and zany and annoying and super warm and funny and it makes oscar react in a way that’s like. not entirely on brand for a supposedly cool and detached racer boy.
yes his whole onscreen chemistry with lando is set up by mclaren marketing in a deliberate way to milk the teammate thing, show camaraderie, and get engagement. but the great thing about any good ship is that sometimes it can start that way and then go a little rogue beyond the marketing (see: oscar popping up recently in random sky interviews) and take on a weird life of its own. ‘cus lando and oscar seem to genuinely enjoy each other’s presence while helping each other and the team — like there’s many levels of coexistence or intimacy that you simply you would not get in a “normal” context of coworker because of the sheer stakes involved (hundreds of people basically working for you, the money and speed of f1, the travel, the sacrifices, the expectation, the pressure), and through it all it’s two people just kinda saying, “hey, i have come to enjoy your presence, i respect you, we can joke about this, we’re sharing this because you understand exactly what i’m going through right now”. that’s what makes it fun to play around with.
like, case in point. what is THIS???
and look big disclaimer that this is with the lens of the rpf glasses on and a huge element of this is projection, but also the reason we project and run rampant with our AUs and headcanons for the ship is because we have some breadcrumbs and see the potential. subtext!! imagination!! what a fun thing.
and wow. essay. i am papaya-pilled so bad y’all 😔✊
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nayziiz · 8 months ago
Text
No Way | LN4
Summary: Lando Norris, an F1 driver for McLaren Racing, faces persistent attention on his single status. In an attempt to appease fans and quell rumours, his management suggests a fake relationship with a popular Portuguese model. However, Lando's PR manager, Natalie, disagrees, believing fans would see through the ploy. As an alternative, Lando's management notices the genuine bond between him and Natalie and proposes they feign a relationship for authenticity. Initially hesitant, they agree, given their existing friendship and professional connection. The fake relationship takes an unexpected turn as Lando and Natalie grapple with burgeoning real feelings, attempting unsuccessfully to conceal their growing emotions.
Pairing: Lando Norris x Original Character (Natalie)
Warnings: Mentions of physical and emotional abuse; SA; fluff; crash
Masterlist
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CHAPTER 9
As Lando prepares for his first race back in the car since the accident, the atmosphere is charged with anticipation and excitement. The British Grand Prix, his home race, adds an extra layer of significance to the occasion. The energy in the air is palpable as the fans, eager to witness their local hero back on the track, fill the grandstands with cheers and banners.
Lando's determination is a beacon, shining brighter than ever. The challenges and uncertainties that followed the accident have only fueled his resilience. The sight of his McLaren gleaming on the grid ignites a fire within him, a renewed sense of purpose that transcends the ordinary pursuit of victory.
The moments before the race are a flurry of activity. The team works meticulously to ensure the car is in optimal condition, every detail scrutinised to maximise performance. Lando, surrounded by the familiar faces of his dedicated crew, shares nods and words of encouragement. The camaraderie is evident as everyone rallies behind their driver, each person in the McLaren garage contributing to the collective aspiration of victory.
“Welcome back, Lando. You gave us quite the scare back in Monaco, but we’re pleased to see you back and smiling. How are you doing?”The interviewer asks.
“I’m feeling great. My body’s healed up nicely. I’m very thankful to everyone who played a part in my recovery, it’s not every day that something like that happens, but everyone did their best and I appreciate that.” Lando comments, his gratitude evident in his voice and smile.
“What’s your headspace like heading into your home race this weekend?” The interviewer continues.
“It’s a positive headspace. I kind of try to forget about the last few weeks, it was beyond anyone’s control, so heading into this week, it’s pretty much back to normal. I love racing on this track, and it’s home, so that helps.” Lando concludes before returning to the McLaren garage.
Upon Lando's return to the garage, a sense of normalcy returns as he seamlessly transitions into the routine of a race weekend. Without missing a beat, he joins Natalie, and together they delve into the intricacies of his race weekend schedule. The professional camaraderie takes precedence, temporarily overshadowing the nuances of their romantic relationship within the confines of the work environment.
In the controlled chaos of the garage, surrounded by the hum of machinery and the focused energy of the McLaren team, Lando and Natalie synchronise their efforts. Their interactions are marked by efficiency, communication, and a shared commitment to the tasks at hand. The dynamics between them shift seamlessly from the personal to the professional, a testament to their ability to compartmentalise and navigate the complexities of their dual roles.
“Lando.” Adam's voice rings out from behind him and Natalie as they sieve through his social media content for the race weekend. “I need to chat with you.”
Lando, sensing the urgency in his father's tone, follows him to his driver's room. As they enter, Adam shuts the door, creating a private space where their conversation can unfold without the prying ears of the bustling garage.
“What's wrong?” Lando immediately asks, sensing the gravity in his father's tone.
“We've finally found him.” Adam informs his son, the weight of the revelation evident in his expression.
“Who? What are you talking about?” Lando questions, his confusion etched across his face. In response, Adam pulls out his phone, showing Lando a photo of a man in a club.
"Is this him?" Lando asks, scrutinising the image on the phone.
The air in the room becomes charged with anticipation as the pieces of an undisclosed puzzle start to fall into place. The photograph holds a significance that raises more questions than answers, setting the stage for a revelation that could potentially reshape the course of their conversation.
“It seems like the barman spiked her soda at the club that night. She had one drink from what I could tell, and he was the one who handed it to her. She kept her drink covered the entire time, so the only time someone had access to spiking it was before she received it.” Adam explains, referencing the night in Shanghai when Natalie was drugged and assaulted.
The room tightens with tension as the implications of Adam's discovery sink in.
“But, why? He doesn't know her, does he?” Lando continues to prod, seeking to understand the motive behind such a malicious act.
“I had a friend of a friend go by the club and speak to him. And, you'll never believe what we found.” Adam explains, swiping to reveal a photo of Lucas, Natalie's ex-boyfriend.
“No way," Lando seethes, his disbelief and anger evident.
The revelation hits close to home, and the betrayal is twofold—first by the barman, and now by someone Natalie once trusted intimately. The shock and frustration emanating from Lando reflect the emotional turmoil of discovering that someone from Natalie's past could be involved in such a reprehensible act.
“He came in the day before, apparently he knew where she would be going, paid the barman a hefty amount to spike her drink. We suspect he has some hidden app on her phone so he can see exactly what she’s doing, when, and with whom. I’ll need to get her phone cleaned. Lando, Lucas was there that night in the club. I also got a different camera angle from the opposite side of the club and it clearly shows him watching her, approaching her, and then dancing up behind her. She spins around and immediately hurries away, likely to the bathroom where she called you from. There weren’t any cameras there for us to see if he followed her again, but he just disappeared.” Adam details.
The revelation unfolds with a chilling precision, exposing the orchestrated cruelty behind Natalie's assault. The calculated actions of Lucas, manipulating the situation and exploiting intimate knowledge of Natalie's whereabouts, paint a disturbing picture of betrayal and malice.
“He's insane. He's literally insane. He claimed to love her. Who does that to someone they supposedly love?” Lando argues, his anger palpable, a storm brewing within him that his father has never witnessed before.
“Son, it gets worse.” Adam adds gravely. “He has a paddock pass this weekend.”
“No fucking way.” Lando grunts, the shock and disbelief evident in his voice.
The sanctuary of the racing world, meant for competition, suddenly feels tainted by the presence of an ominous figure from Natalie's past.
“We'll do what we can to protect her, but she's bound to run into him at some point.” Adam replies, acknowledging the imminent threat that hovers over Natalie's safety.
“Please, Dad, don't tell her. I don't want her stressing about this, with everything the last few weeks, she's had enough to deal with as is.” Lando urges his father, his concern for Natalie's well-being overriding any desire for immediate confrontation.
“Of course.” Adam agrees. “But, we'll have to think of a way to keep her safe. If he can drug her that easily, who knows what he can do here. She's by herself most of the time.”
“I'll think of something.” Lando mumbles before a knock on the door interrupts them, signalling an intrusion into the private space where they grapple with the unsettling reality that has unfolded.
The impending challenge of ensuring Natalie's safety in the paddock adds a layer of complexity to an already emotionally charged race weekend.
"Sorry, I hate to bother. Lando, we need to finalise your content, please," Natalie sheepishly explains her intrusion as she pops her head into the room.
The transition from the weighty conversation to the demands of the race weekend is abrupt, but Natalie's professional demeanour glosses over any traces of the private matters being discussed behind closed doors. The racing world, with its relentless pace, demands a swift return to the immediate tasks at hand, and Natalie, aware of the intricacies involved, seamlessly switches gears. Lando, while grappling with the recent revelations, acknowledges the necessity to refocus on the upcoming race.
“Of course, let me be out of your hair.” Adam quickly excuses himself, sensing the need for privacy between Lando and Natalie.
“Everything OK?” She asks Lando, her concern evident in her gaze.
“Yeah, all good.” Lando lies, attempting to shield her from the weight of the recent revelations. However, the internal conflict is palpable, and he hesitates before admitting, “Actually, no.”
“What do you mean?” She asks, her confusion deepening as she senses a shift in the atmosphere of the room. The veneer of normalcy cracks, revealing a layer of unspoken tension that lingers between them. Natalie, attuned to Lando's emotions, waits for him to unravel the truth.
“I may or may not have tracked down the guy who drugged and assaulted you in China, with my Dad’s help, of course.” Lando admits.
“You did what?” Natalie exclaims, her surprise and shock evident. “Why would you do that?”
“I needed to know who it was, Nattie. He could have really hurt you.” Lando explains, his concern for Natalie evident in his words.
“So, who is he?” Natalie quickly asks, seeking an answer. The urgency in her voice reflects the immediate need to understand the identity of the person responsible for the traumatic incident in Shanghai.
“I don’t have a name.” He lies. “I just know that he’s been spotted in the UK in the last few days.”
“This is actually crazy right now.” She breathes, her heart racing.
The revelation adds another layer of complexity to the situation, leaving Natalie in a state of uncertainty and unease. The lack of a definitive name amplifies the mystery surrounding the person who orchestrated the assault, and the proximity of the threat raises the stakes for both of them.
“Please, Nattie, I’m asking you nicely, please do not do anything by yourself this weekend, even in the paddock.” Lando begs her.
“You don’t think he’ll be in the paddock.” She shakes her head in denial.
“I don’t know, but I cannot risk you getting hurt.” Lando tells her as he pulls her closer to him. “Please promise me you’ll have someone from the team with you at all times, just for this weekend while we figure out what to do about him.”
“Why did you do this?” She quips, her brain digesting the fact that he had purposely sought her assailant.
“I can’t let someone get away with hurting you.” He half explains.
“Yeah, sure, but that’s a lot of effort.” She shyly responds.
“I told you I can’t lose you. Hand-in-hand with that goes a promise to protect you, to the best of my ability. Let me do that. Let me protect you and keep you safe.” He finally admits. “No matter the amount of effort, or the time, or the distance - I will do what I can to keep you safe.”
The vulnerability in Lando's plea cuts through the complex emotions of the moment. The admission of his commitment to her safety, despite the challenges and uncertainties, unveils a depth of care that transcends the boundaries of their public personas. In this intimate moment, their connection strengthens, grounded in a shared understanding of the need for protection and support.
The weight of his words hangs in the air, a testament to the sincerity and depth of Lando's feelings. The realisation that he went to such lengths, confronting a potentially dangerous individual, solely to ensure her safety, leaves Natalie with a mix of emotions—gratitude, awe, and a growing awareness of the depth of their connection.
In the midst of the chaos surrounding them, Lando's unwavering commitment to her well-being becomes a beacon of support. The paddock, usually filled with the noise of race preparations, momentarily fades into the background as the significance of their shared moment takes centre stage.
“I feel like I should write that down.” He jokes.
“Why, so I can read it when I don’t believe you?” Natalie jokes back.
“No, so I can use it in my vows one day.” He responds, causing her to smack his arm.
The banter lightens the atmosphere, injecting a moment of humour into the seriousness of their conversation
“Please, just have someone with you this weekend, especially when I’m not by your side.” He reiterates.
“I promise.” She finally agrees as she hugs him tightly.
In the midst of the racing world's intensity, their love story unfolds, marked by the unconventional backdrop of pit stops, podiums, and paddocks. Lando, with his passion for speed and the vibrant papaya colours associated with McLaren, becomes the unexpected protagonist in the romance she never saw coming. His gestures of care, protection, and understanding create a narrative that transcends the confines of a typical love story.
As the engines roar on the racetrack, so too does the beating of her heart for the man who not only races with fervour but also loves with a depth that surpasses the confines of the fast-paced world they inhabit.
- LATER THAT DAY DURING THE RACE -
A missed call from her mom causes panic to hit Natalie in the middle of the race. She knows her mom wouldn't call her at work unless it was an absolute emergency. She rushes out of the garage, leaving behind the sounds of roaring engines and the intensity of the race. The paddock, filled with people moving up and down past the garages, becomes a maze of anxious anticipation as she presses the phone to her ear.
“Hi, Mamma. You were looking for me?” Natalie speaks into her phone, a sigh of relief escaping her lips.
“Sorry, my love, it was an accident. I wanted to message you and ended up calling you instead.” Her mom sweetly explains.
“That’s OK. I just thought-” Her sentence is cut short when she spots a familiar face further down the paddock.
“Honey, are you there?” Her mom asks.
“I’m here. I have to go, though. I’ll call you after the race, OK?” Natalie quickly speaks before hanging up.
With all the people around, she had drifted a distance away from the entrance to the McLaren paddock. The paddock, a buzzing hive of activity with team members, journalists, and fans, proved to be a labyrinth of twists and turns. In the midst of the race excitement, Natalie had momentarily strayed from the familiar path, drawn by the urgency of the call from her mom.
As she hangs up the phone and takes a quick scan of her surroundings, a sense of disorientation kicks in. Racing against time to retrace her steps, she turns to see where Lucas might be but couldn't spot him amid the crowd. Panic sets in, and her steps quicken as she rushes back towards the garage. The familiar sights and sounds of the paddock become a blur as she navigates the human maze, desperate to reach the safety of the familiar McLaren territory.
Frantic and without anyone by her side, as Lando had pleaded with her, Natalie finds herself caught in a moment of vulnerability. The realisation dawns upon her—Lando knew it had been Lucas and deliberately withheld the information. The protective instinct in Lando's actions becomes clear. He chose not to disclose the identity of the person who had caused her distress, perhaps to shield her from the heightened anxiety that such knowledge might induce.
In the midst of the racing world's chaos, Natalie grapples with the conflicting emotions of gratitude for Lando's protective gesture and the realisation that there are elements of her past that still hold the power to disrupt her present. As she hurries back to the garage, the intensity of the race is momentarily eclipsed by the personal turmoil unravelling in the paddock.
- AFTER THE RACE -
“Where’s Natalie?” Lando yells as he celebrates with his team on a P2 finish in the British GP.
“No idea.” Zak yells back as the crowd keeps growing louder.
The jubilation of the race result echoes through the paddock, but Lando's elation is tinged with concern for Natalie's whereabouts. Amidst the cheers and the team's celebratory atmosphere, her absence becomes a noticeable void.
The thrill of the podium finish momentarily takes a back seat to Lando's growing unease. The question about Natalie's location hangs in the air, creating a pause in the celebratory chaos.
Lando breaks free from the crew as he rushes into the garage.
“Where’s she?” He asks his father, but doesn’t wait for a response, he just keeps running. “Nattie!”
His voice echoes through the garage, filled with urgency and worry. The celebration around him fades into the background as he searches for the one person who matters most to him. The pit lane becomes a blur as Lando races towards a truth he needs to uncover, his mind echoing with the possibility that something might have gone wrong.
Natalie is locked in Lando's driver's room, hidden beneath the massage table, when she hears Lando's voice screaming her name. The sound reverberates through the room, heightening the tension in the air. As his calls pierce through the silence, the door rattles from his attempts to gain access, his hands banging on the door, urgently pleading for her to open it.
In the confined space beneath the massage table, Natalie can feel her heartbeat syncing with the frantic rhythm of Lando's cries. The fear of being discovered intensifies with each passing second. The room becomes a sanctuary of isolation, echoing with the outside world's chaos and the desperate plea of someone searching for her.
Unable to endure the mounting pressure, Natalie decides to end the charade. She gets up, her hands trembling as she unlocks the door. The door swings open, revealing a breathless Lando on the other side. His eyes scan the room, settling on her panicked expression and shaky hands. The relief on his face is palpable as he steps inside, shutting the door behind him, creating a momentary bubble of privacy in the midst of the paddock's tumult.
“It's Lucas... isn't it?” She manages to speak, her voice laden with fear and vulnerability. “He was in the paddock earlier, and then he was just gone. Please tell me it isn't Lucas.”
The revelation of Lucas's presence and the implications weigh heavily on the air. Natalie's tears stream down her face, dampening the fabric of Lando's fireproof suite as she seeks solace in his arms.
“I'm sorry, love.” Lando breathes as he pulls her against him, offering a comforting embrace. 
“Why would he do something like that?” She cries into his chest, the pain and confusion evident in her voice.
The question lingers, an unspoken plea for answers to a situation that strikes at the heart of trust and security. The weight of the revelation, the emotions swirling in the air, leaves him momentarily speechless. Sometimes, there are no words that can adequately capture the complexity of the situation, especially when faced with the shocking reappearance of someone from Natalie's past.
In the silence that follows, Lando tightens his embrace, offering a silent reassurance that transcends verbal communication. His presence, a steadying force in the midst of turmoil, becomes a tangible anchor for Natalie as they navigate the uncertainty together. Sometimes, the absence of words speaks volumes, acknowledging the depth of the emotional turmoil and the unspoken commitment to face whatever challenges lie ahead, hand in hand.
After calming Natalie down, Lando continues to debrief with the media and the team, leaving her in the care of his father. As they get ready to leave the paddock, Lando wraps his arm around Natalie, keeping her tight against him. The physical closeness serves as both a shield and a source of comfort, a silent affirmation of their connection and Lando's commitment to providing her with a sense of security.
Strolling down the paddock in silence, the night has settled, and the once-bustling atmosphere has dwindled. Very few people still wander around, allowing the couple a moment of respite amid the shadows of the paddock. Adam, Lando's father, had departed earlier to arrange additional security for both Lando and Natalie. He had pulled some strings to ensure a heightened police presence outside the track premises, further fortifying their protection.
In the quiet of the night, with the paddock lights casting a gentle glow, Lando and Natalie navigate the aftermath of the unsettling revelation, finding solace in each other's presence and the unspoken assurance of shared strength. The night air carries a mixture of tension and determination as they make their way through the paddock.
“I always thought you two would make a good-looking couple.” Lucas' voice echoes as he emerges from the shadows, stopping Lando and Natalie in their tracks. The sudden appearance sends a shiver down their spines, the past converging with the present in an unexpected and unsettling confrontation.
Lando instinctively tightens his grip around Natalie, a protective stance against the intrusion. The paddock, once a place of celebration and victory, transforms into an eerie backdrop for a confrontation that neither of them anticipated. The ambient glow of the paddock lights casts long shadows, accentuating the tension in the air.
Natalie's gaze narrows, a mixture of fear and defiance in her eyes as she confronts the figure from her past.
“There’s no use in hiding her. She’s always been a scared little girl.” Lucas continues, his words slicing through the air with a cruel edge. The tension in the paddock becomes palpable as he attempts to exert control through intimidation.
“You don’t want to do this, mate.” Lando warns him, a firmness in his tone. The protective instinct in Lando intensifies, his posture reflecting a readiness to shield Natalie from any harm.
“Oh, but I do. Because I vividly remember you staring at her, pining after her, pretty much frothing at the mouth when she was around you. Now you have her, but is she really as great as you hoped she would be?” Lucas asks. “Have you not realised that there’s nothing special about her?”
Lucas' words are laced with bitterness and resentment. His attempt to undermine their relationship becomes evident, a calculated effort to sow doubt and discord. Lando's jaw clenches, and his gaze narrows as he absorbs the verbal assault. He remains steadfast, standing beside Natalie with an unwavering determination to protect her from the venomous words.
“I think you need to leave.” Lando continues to warn him, his voice firm and resolute.
The air becomes charged with tension as Lucas takes a step closer to the couple, his actions pushing the boundaries of confrontation. Natalie, feeling the threat escalate, clutches Lando's arm, attempting to pull him back from the brewing conflict.
“And, you. You naughty little whore. Did you really think I was stupid? You got so turned on whenever he smiled at you. I should have known when you suddenly started wearing shorter skirts when you knew he’d be around.” Lucas continues, his words cutting through the air with a venomous tone.
The accusatory remarks aim to demean and shame, further escalating the tension in the paddock. Natalie, stung by the degrading comments, feels a surge of anger and humiliation. She tightens her grip on Lando's arm, seeking solace and strength from his unwavering presence.
“That’s enough. You do not get to speak to her.” Lando barks, his voice carrying a stern and protective edge.
The line has been crossed, and Lando, unwilling to tolerate any further disrespect towards Natalie, asserts himself in the face of Lucas's venomous words.
“Did she tell you she packed all her shit and disappeared in the middle of the night? That she didn’t even have the audacity to leave me in person, she left a note on the kitchen counter.” Lucas adds, his bitterness evident in every word. “She left me without any warning.”
Natalie, caught off guard by the airing of their past, feels a mixture of emotions. Lando, however, remains resolute, refusing to let the past dictate the present. He wraps a protective arm around Natalie, silently conveying his support and determination to shield her from the ghosts of her past relationship.
“I don’t blame her.” Lando counters. “You drugged her and assaulted her, and we have proof.”
The revelation of Lucas's heinous actions shifts the power dynamics of the confrontation. Lando, steadfast in his defence of Natalie, draws a line in the sand, exposing Lucas's true nature.
“I did not assault her.” Lucas argues. “She was drunk and having a good time. Who would have thought she’d be grinding her ass up against me that night and not you?”
His attempt to twist the narrative adds a layer of manipulation to the already charged atmosphere. Lando's jaw clenches once more, his grip on Natalie tightening as he struggles to contain his anger.
“Mate, take one more step and it’s over for you. Did you honestly think you could come into this paddock after what you did in Shanghai and intimidate us? I have people all over this paddock watching us right now. I have video evidence being sent to the police where you’re paying a barman to drug a girl’s drink with the intention of physically harming her. You do not get to scare her any more. You do not get to look her in the face and cause her any more trauma. Do you understand me? You’re going to walk out of here and never look back.” Lando barks with a resolute authority, his words cutting through the tension-laden air. “Leave. Now.”
Lucas, realising the gravity of the situation, begins to retreat hastily. The collective eyes of the paddock, now aware of the unfolding drama, follow his every step. The atmosphere is charged with a mix of tension and anticipation as security guards shadow Lucas's exit.
“Get the fuck out of here.” Lando repeats, his voice cutting through the commotion.
The authority in his tone demands compliance, and Lucas, with a resentful glance back, continues his retreat, disappearing into the shadows of the paddock. As the tension gradually dissipates, Natalie looks up at Lando, a mixture of relief and gratitude in her eyes.
The distant wailing of police sirens grows louder, signalling the swift response to the emergency call. Within moments, uniformed officers arrive on the scene, taking control of the situation. Adam provides the evidence they gathered, including footage of Lucas orchestrating the drugging at the club in Shanghai.
Lucas, now surrounded by law enforcement, is met with stern faces and handcuffs. The seriousness of his actions sinks in as the officers read him his rights. The arrest is swift, and the atmosphere in the paddock shifts from tension to a sense of justice being served.
Natalie watches from a distance, her eyes fixed on the unfolding scene. Lando stands by her side, a protective arm around her shoulders. The weight of the recent events slowly begins to lift as they witness Lucas being led away by the police.
Lando, having fulfilled his promise to protect Natalie, looks down at her with a reassuring smile. The wheels of justice are in motion, and the dark chapter of Lucas's actions is now transitioning to a resolution that ensures accountability.
As they drive back to the hotel, the quietness inside the car is a comfortable one, devoid of tension and anxiety. The events in the paddock have left an emotional residue, but the shared silence between Natalie and Lando carries a sense of mutual understanding. The soft hum of the engine and the gentle rhythm of the road serve as a backdrop to their contemplative thoughts.
Lando occasionally glances at Natalie, his expression a mix of concern and relief. He reaches over and gently takes her hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. Natalie, still processing the recent confrontation with Lucas, appreciates the warmth of his touch.
The city lights illuminate the night, creating a calming ambiance within the car. The journey, though marked by the unexpected encounter, becomes a moment of reflection for both of them. The emotional rollercoaster they've been on seems to slow down, allowing them to catch their breaths.
In the dimly lit hotel room, the soft glow of the bathroom light spills into the space. Natalie takes a moment to compose herself, the echoes of the recent encounter with Lucas still lingering in her thoughts. As she emerges from the bathroom, she finds Lando sorting through their luggage.
Feeling a mixture of emotions, Natalie decides to embrace the solace of Lando's presence. Without saying a word, she walks over to him and wraps her arms around him. Lando, attuned to her unspoken feelings, reciprocates by folding his arms around her waist. In the quiet intimacy, he rests his head against her neck, offering silent support.
A moment of stillness hangs in the air before Natalie, moved by the comfort Lando provides, retracts slightly. Without a word, she pulls him closer and seals the moment with a sweet and reassuring kiss. The exchange speaks volumes, conveying a shared understanding and a connection that transcends words.
“What was that for?” Lando whispers once she pulls aways from the kiss.
“It was a thank you. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to thank you enough for what you did.” She murmurs, her words carrying the weight of deep appreciation.
Lando, understanding the sentiment behind her actions, tightens his embrace and responds with another tender kiss.
“And, I’ll do it again. No questions asked.” His commitment to her safety is unwavering. “You know I love you, right?”
Natalie's heart skips a beat at Lando's unexpected confession of love. The shock registers on her face as she gazes into his eyes, trying to comprehend the depth of his feelings. The weight of his words hangs in the air, and a mix of emotions swirl within her.
In that moment, the room seems to hold its breath, enveloping them in a cocoon of shared vulnerability. Natalie, caught off guard, searches Lando's eyes for sincerity and finds a sincerity that resonates deeply with her own emotions.
“You do?” She asks shyly.
“Of course, I do.” He informs her, his voice soft and low as he caresses her cheek. “How could I not?”
She presses her lips to him once more as they shuffle towards the bed. She pulls him down on top of her, her legs instinctively wrapping around him as they continue to kiss. In the intimate embrace, their lips meet in a dance of shared emotions and newfound revelations. The room, once filled with tension, transforms into a haven where unspoken feelings find expression. Lando responds to her kiss with a gentle passion, savouring the warmth of the moment.
As they continue to kiss, a sense of comfort envelops them, transcending the events of the day. The weight of recent challenges begins to lift, replaced by the tender connection they've discovered. In each other's arms, they find solace, understanding, and the promise of something deeper than the complexities of their fake relationship.
The journey from pretending to love to acknowledging true feelings has unfolded in unexpected ways, leading them to this intimate intersection. The room becomes a sanctuary for their unspoken emotions, and time seems to slow down, allowing them to savour the sweetness of the moment.
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Taglist: @noneofyourfbusinessworld @scopeiguess @tbsloneely @secretgal66
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awkward-walking-potato · 2 months ago
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Ok, omg i want to request scott summers x reader headcanons where they are best friends, but they have one of thoes “ two characters who have to kiss for a mission” and it completely changes the way they see each other. Both realize they have been in love with each other the whole time.
Unexpected turn
Scott Summers and you had been best friends for as long as anyone could remember. Your bond was strong, built on years of shared experiences and mutual respect. But when a high-stakes mission required you both to go undercover and pretend to be a couple, things took an unexpected turn.
The mission was critical: you had to infiltrate an event and gather information from a high-profile target. The only way to maintain your cover was to convincingly portray a couple deeply in love. It was a bit out of your comfort zone, but you trusted Scott completely.
As you both prepared for the mission, you practiced the cover story and, more awkwardly, the necessary display of affection. Scott, always the professional, approached it with his usual seriousness. You, however, couldn’t help but feel a flutter of nervous excitement at the thought of being so close to him.
The evening of the mission arrived. You were dressed in elegant attire, your heart racing with a mix of anticipation and nerves. Scott looked equally dashing, his usual stoic expression softened by a hint of nervousness. You both made your way to the event, the room filled with elegant decorations and a sea of well-dressed guests.
The moment came when you were required to share a kiss in front of the target. As you leaned in, your heart pounded in your chest. The kiss was supposed to be a simple, staged act, but as your lips met Scott’s, something unexpected happened. The kiss lingered, and you felt a spark that neither of you had anticipated.
When you finally pulled away, both of you were breathless, your eyes meeting with a new intensity. The mission continued, but the kiss had shifted something between you. The ease and camaraderie you had always shared were now tinged with an undercurrent of something deeper.
After the mission, you both returned to the mansion, the usual casual banter now tinged with a newfound awkwardness. You tried to act normally, but the memory of the kiss lingered in both your minds.
Scott, usually composed, found himself struggling with his emotions. He had always admired you, but the kiss had made him realize how deep his feelings went. He couldn’t ignore the warmth and connection he felt, and it was clear that you were feeling the same way.
One evening, as you were both sitting in the common room, Scott finally broke the silence. “Hey, we need to talk about what happened during the mission.”
You looked up, your heart sinking slightly. “I know. I’ve been thinking about it too.”
Scott took a deep breath, his gaze meeting yours with a mix of vulnerability and hope. “I didn’t expect that kiss to mean anything more than just an act. But now… I can’t ignore that it felt real. I’ve been feeling something for you for a long time, and I think that kiss just made me realize how much I care about you.”
You felt a rush of relief and joy at his confession. “I’ve been feeling the same way. I’ve always been in love with you, but I didn’t want to ruin our friendship. That kiss just made everything clear.”
Scott’s face softened with a genuine smile. “I’m glad you feel that way. I don’t want to hide my feelings anymore. I want us to be more than just friends if you’re willing to give it a chance.”
You smiled, your heart swelling with happiness. “I’d like that. I’ve been hoping for this for a long time.”
Scott reached out and took your hand, his touch warm and reassuring. “Then let’s take this step together. We’ll figure things out as we go.”
As you both embraced, the weight of unspoken feelings lifted, replaced by a newfound sense of possibility. The kiss had changed everything, but it had also brought you both closer together. With Scott by your side, you knew that the journey ahead, whatever it might hold, would be filled with love and understanding.
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slut4menig · 2 months ago
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Hii I have a request for Eddie Munson from stranger things, reader and Eddie are in a relationship but Eddie hang out a loooot with his friends for D&D ( Reader is friends with them too ) and reader feel upset and sad because he doesn’t pay attention to her and maybe some days later she tell him about how she feel
Thanks :)
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Of course I can!! i don’t normally write stranger things or Eddie munson in particular but i’ll try and let me know if anything is wrong or if i need to edit!! this is honestly just a dabble nothing too special
As always, english is not my first language!!
Warnings: Nothing honestly just fluff
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The basement was dimly lit, filled with the sounds of laughter and the clatter of dice rolling against the table. I sat on the worn couch, surrounded by the chaotic energy of my boyfriend, Eddie Munson, and his friends as they dove into another session of Dungeons & Dragons. Eddie’s animated storytelling was captivating, and I couldn’t help but smile at how his eyes lit up when he described the perilous quests and mythical creatures.
But as I watched him, a familiar heaviness settled in my chest. I loved seeing him passionate about the game, but it often felt like I was watching from the sidelines. His friends—Mike, Dustin, Lucas—were fully engrossed, hanging on his every word, while I felt like an afterthought, the girl who just happened to be there.
“Okay, everyone! As you approach the cave, the air grows thick with tension. You can hear the distant growls of the beast lurking within,” Eddie announced, his voice rising dramatically. The guys leaned in closer, captivated.
I fidgeted with a snack from the table, trying to muster the courage to join in. “Eddie, do you think we could—”
“Shh! This is the best part!” Dustin interrupted, eyes wide with excitement.
I bit my lip, retreating into silence. It was moments like this that made me feel invisible. I watched as Eddie laughed with his friends, their camaraderie a warm blanket around them, while I sat apart, feeling the chill of exclusion.
Later that night, after the game had wound down and the friends began to leave, I stepped outside into the cool night air. The stars twinkled above, but all I could think about was the emptiness I felt. I knew it was silly to feel this way; D&D was a huge part of Eddie’s life. But why did it have to take up all of his attention?
A few days later, I found myself in the garage with Eddie, who was strumming his guitar. The familiar sound brought me comfort, but I still felt a knot in my stomach. Taking a deep breath, I knew it was time to voice my feelings.
“Hey, Eddie?” I said, leaning against the workbench. He looked up, a smile breaking across his face.
“Hey! Just working on a new riff. You wanna hear it?”
“Maybe later,” I replied, trying to sound casual. “Can we talk for a minute?”
His smile faltered slightly. “Sure, what’s on your mind?”
I took a seat on an old crate, fiddling with the edges of my shirt. “It’s about… us.”
Eddie’s expression shifted to one of concern. “What about us?”
I hesitated, searching for the right words. “I’ve been feeling a bit left out lately. You spend so much time with the guys and D&D, and I get that it’s important to you, but sometimes it feels like I’m not really part of your life.”
His brow furrowed as he processed what I was saying. “I didn’t know you felt that way. I’m really sorry. I never meant to make you feel excluded.
I took a deep breath. “I love seeing you happy, but I miss having more time with you. Just us. It feels like we don’t get enough of that anymore.”
Eddie leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “I get it. I’ve been so caught up in being a Dungeon Master and making sure everyone is having fun that I haven’t been paying attention to what you need. I’m really sorry.”
My heart softened at his sincerity, but I still felt vulnerable. “It’s just that sometimes, I feel like I’m just here, you know? Like I’m cheering from the sidelines but not actually part of the game.”
He nodded slowly, his gaze intense. “That’s totally fair. I’ve been focusing so much on the campaigns that I didn’t realize how it was affecting you. I want you to be a part of it. You should come play with us.”
I looked at him, surprised. “Really? You think I could keep up with your wild adventures?”
“Absolutely! You’d be a fantastic player,” he said, his enthusiasm contagious. “We could create a character together. It’ll be fun! I promise I’ll make time for us to hang out, just the two of us, too.”
I felt a rush of relief wash over me, and I couldn’t help but smile. “You mean it?”
“Definitely. I want to make this work. You’re not just my girlfriend; you’re my partner. I need you in my corner, both in and out of the game.” He reached for my hands, intertwining our fingers.
“Thank you, Eddie,” I said, squeezing his hands. “I just want to feel like I matter to you, like I’m more than just a spectator in your life.”
“You matter so much to me,” he replied, his voice earnest. “You always have. I’ll make sure you never feel left out again. How about we plan a night where it’s just us? We can grab some pizza, and then I can show you the campaign I’ve been working on.”
I laughed, feeling lighter. “Pizza and D&D? what a date.”
“Exactly! And I promise to give you the best adventure ever.” He grinned, his eyes sparkling with excitement. “Just wait until you meet my dragon! She’s fierce.”
“Okay, but if she tries to eat me, I’m out, would much rather you eat me out,” I teased.
“oh yeah? i’d like that princess,” he said, his tone playful. “And who knows? Maybe your sexy badass character will end up saving the day.”
As we sat there in the garage, the sunlight streaming through the open door, I felt a warmth blossom in my chest. I knew it wouldn’t always be perfect, but we would navigate this together, one day at a time
__________________________________________
I don’t know how accurate this was… i haven’t watched ST in a while… i hope you enjoyed though i felt the need to add a few explicit references it’s just who i am 🤗
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superhero--imagines · 2 years ago
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A/N: I kind of love this one. Added a tag list for people who commented about a part 2, and I’m thinking maybe one more part? Maybe 2 :)
Part One Here! / <This is Part 2!> / Part 3 Here! / Part 4 Here!
You’re not sure how you ended up here.
“So all of a sudden you’re into some literature nerd—” you flinch at the sound of Bianca’s voice on the other side of the bookcase. “—that you’re noticing now after two whole years.”
Just that you’d rather be anywhere else in the world then one row away from Xavier and Bianca in the library.
You stiffen as you watch them between the cracks in the books.
You've been 'dating' Xavier for a few months now, and everyone feels fairly convinced that what you have is genuine.
Everyone except Bianca.
You can’t deny that she has a point. It’s not like you and Xavier were friends or something—and truthfully between the two of you, Bianca probably knows him better.
You catch sight of Xavier tugging on the end of his hair and his fingers, the way he always does when he’s nervous, and instead of backing away Bianca draws closer. You know it’s the wrong thing to do before her hand settles on his shoulder, before Xavier draws back and out of reach.
“It just happened, okay? I can’t help who I fall in love with—" Again the ticklish feeling of hope swells in your chest, and again you swallow it away like a bad aftertaste. “—why are we even having this conversation?”
“You know why.” Bianca’s words feel like a dagger through the heart. He does know why. And so do you. But when he makes no move to say anything more, she huffs. “Find me when you figure out who your real friends are.”
When she’s gone Xavier tangles a hand in his hair, a heavy sigh whistling past his lips.
“That could have gone better.” You say to him, on his right side.
“Yeah, I know.” The words pass his lips before he can flinch in realization, a hand clutching his chest. “Jesus, when did you show up?”
“I’ve been here the whole time.” He raises an eyebrow. “I was behind the other shelf.” You point to the gap between the books and he sighs again.
“You should add eavesdropping to your list of skills.” The words have no bite, you find yourself reaching for his hand, and this time he doesn’t flinch away.
“If you still like her, you could date her.” You regret the words as soon as they come out of your mouth, a shallow, lonely ache in your chest.
You're ashamed at the relief that floods through you when Xavier shakes his head.
"I liked Bianca a lot," he admits. You remember the way they used to look at each other, the arms laced around waists, the secretive smiles shared. "but I could never really trust if these were my feelings or hers." He admits.
He looks at you now, a fiercely passionate gaze.
"The one thing I learned from watching my parents is that if you don't have unconditional trust, you don't have anything."
Your back presses against the bookshelf, a sliver of space sandwiched between the both of you in between the library aisle.
"That's very mature of you."
He gives you his signature smile, a lopsided quirk on his lips, before cracking into a full grin--like he can't play coy any longer.
You're not sure when you started being able to tell when Xavier was really smiling, like now, and when he just pretended to smile--to charm a teacher or exchange a pleasantry with his classmate.
You're not sure when you got this close to him either when him tugging your joint hands to his chest felt normal. When he led you out of the stacks and to the cozy alcove you usually sat at on the third floor---when that spot went from being just 'yours' to 'ours'.
Xavier meets your eyes after flicking a book open to the homework assignment.
"Don't tell me this is the moment you've fallen in love with me?"
No, but it is the moment you realize your feelings for him might run deeper than camaraderie.
"I just wanted to know if you had the answer to question five."
You'd rather cut off your own hand then admit it out loud though.
You’re not sure how to process the progression of your fake relationship.
Even now, when you’re sitting in his lap, his arms wrapped around your waist, and his chin on your shoulder, your not sure when this casual intimacy was built between you two.
Just that you enjoy it more than you like to admit.
They’re playing some game, never have I ever, but your attention is solely on the boy who’s literally wrapped around you.
“Never have I ever skipped class.” Enid giggles as half the circle takes a deep sip of their respective drinks.
“Never have I ever stone-d myself.” Xavier’s mouth quirks up on one side, you know it like you know the ocean is vast, even without looking.
Ajax grumbles as the rest of the group laughs. “I told you that in confidence!”
His laugh brushes against you, breathe ghosting over your neck.
You bite your cheek to keep from shivering.
“Never have I ever kissed (Y/N).”
Whatever warmth you had leaves your body, even Xavier’s arm tightening around you doesn’t provide any comfort this time.
If Xavier were a different kind of boy, he would have noticed the barb, noticed everyone’s eyes on him, laughter dying down when he didn’t bring the cup to his lips.
If Xavier was a different kind of boy he’d know better, he would know to lie.
Instead all he noticed was that you had gone stiff.
“You guys haven’t kissed?” Bianca asks with a raised eyebrow, the insinuation is obvious—they’d done more in less time.
“We’ve been taking it slow.” Xavier shrugs.
You want to hide.
“Yeah, but you guys have been dating for two months—” Ajax stops when he catches Xavier’s eyes.
You feel like the grounds pulled out from under you, like you missed a step on the stairs and now you’re tumbling down.
Think. How do you get out of this. Not even Xavier’s banter is enough right now.
Think. Think. Think. Think. Thi—
You have an idea. You saw it in a movie and it’ll work, but it’s a little bold. Bolder than you’re used to.
It’ll get them to shut up though.
“These things don’t have a time —” Xavier cuts himself off when you tug away the solo cup from his hand, you keep a finger of the dark liquor in your mouth, tipping Xavier’s head back.
He closes his eyes instinctively, parting his lips as soon as your mouth meets his. Both of your hands cradle his face, and you feel him gulp the alcohol down in one smooth motion.
He’s grinning when you pull away.
“Two birds, one stone.” The entire room riots around you. But your eyes stay fixed on his smile—
You’ve never seen someone look so happy.
Every emotion you’ve hidden, that you’ve beaten down, rushes straight to your face.
The wobbly smile, the heated cheeks, the watery eyes.
You’re sure you look embarrassed.
And you can’t deny the truth any longer—you like Xavier Thorpe
When did this happen?
Was it when he instinctively held your hand in his he get you tense around strangers, a protective arm holding you close.
Was it when he anticipated your needs, handing you a book you needed before you even knew you wanted it?
Or were you doomed from the start, that day when he sat beside you at the lake—sunlight glinting around him like glitter, blue eyes have never seemed clearer.
Xavier watches you like every thought you’re having is completely transparent to him.
He doesn’t let you feel embarrassed for too long, tugging your face to his chest.
“Alright, you all got your free show—keep it moving.” There’s another round of laughter, and you’re sure he can feel the heat from you face through his thin cotton shirt.
“You know,” you feel his breath tickle your ear when the game is underway again. “You didn’t ask for consent.”
You pull away, looking at him with threaded eyebrows.
You did that to save the both of you! It was a matter of your social reputations!
He gives a soft chuckle at your shocked face, his index finger curling under your chin.
“It was cute so I’m not mad.” His eyes twinkle with mischief as his gaze falls to your lips. “Expect a penalty soon though.”
Tag list: @dyhlanobrien @magical-dreamland @lilsunshine1092 @4rt3m1ss
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Rewind, Remix, & Replay Jay & Kim 6x5
You can read the rest of the series here
This one is pretty short but it should hold you over. I’m so excited to write the next four chapters. I have big ideas! That being said it might just be one chapter next week.
The team had all gotten together for brunch. Trudy was celebrating her twenty-five years as a cop. Playing two truths and a lie was always fun and competitive when it was a table full of cops. “And go,” Trudy sat back in her seat waiting to see what the tables consensus was.
“Okay, Dickin’s don’t do Karaoke so that’s the lie.” Kevin is confident and Hailey points at him agreeing with his words. But Kim shakes her head dismissively thinking she knows her mentor better than that.
“No definitely not. It’s soccer. The woman hates moving.” Trudy scoffs at the comment crossing her arms over her chest. Her sharp eyes watched the way that Kim leaned into Jay. Their chairs were pulled close together and his hand was resting on her thigh with her hand on his forearm absently caressing it with her thumb. The familiarity spoke of a long relationship in its natural movements and shared looks.
Jay laughed, “Yeah, there is no way you play varsity soccer in high school.” The table continued their roasting. The team was in high spirits and the last week had been running smoothly. The tension between Jay and Adam had faded along with his impressive shiner. They all lingered even after they finished eating, enjoying the company and teasing of one another.
Jay got up to order another mimosa for Kim at the bar. It was a Saturday and they may have another round if they were going to be there for a while. A shadow fell over him. “You want another drink Sarg?” When Trudy didn’t respond he turned to look at her. Her gaze is still on the table the team is sitting at.
“I haven’t seen her that happy in a while.” Jay’s blue eyes followed her gaze to Kim. She had a huge smile, and Antonio said something that made her throw her head back and laugh. The sound brings warmth to his chest. It’s infectious and makes him smile too. “Don’t screw this up, Halstead. That is my girl, you better take care of her. I promise you, you won’t find better.”
Jay turned to fully face her. Her eyes held a seriousness that he matched. “I know. I have every intention of keeping that smile on her face.” Life was finally settling down. Work was back to normal. Everyone was getting along and had fallen back into a seamless understanding and camaraderie.
Kim’s sister had spent two weeks in rehab. Zoey had been staying with Kim and in turn with him. The pair didn’t sleep apart well anymore. Nicole had gotten out and was more like herself. Zoey had gone home. A peace in Kim that had been missing for too long had returned. She seemed lighter. Less worry furrowing in between her eyebrows. “She is my girl too.” Trudy gave him a short curt nod of acceptance. If Jay didn’t know any better, he might have thought she had teared up a little.
“Good because I like you, Halstead. I would hate to have to kick your ass.” Jay couldn’t contain his bark of laughter. “I mean it Chuckles. You hurt her and you’ll pay the price.” It wasn’t the first hurt her and I’ll kill you spiel he had gotten but he did not doubt that it was the most dangerous. And that was saying something considering he had gotten it in various degrees from Kevin, Antonio, and Voight. Kim was well loved in the team and the men within were protective of the females. Apparently, that protection was limited to outside the group. Jay didn’t mind it though. Honestly, he was happy there were so many people who cared about Kim. If that meant he had to deal with a little more third-degree he would take the tradeoff.
“I do not doubt it. And if I do- I'll let you.” A silent understanding passed between the two. It was broken by the bartender setting a bright orange drink on the bar. Jay pulls out his wallet fishing out a few bills before handing them to the server. “Thanks, man. Her next drink is on me too.”
“A Bloody Mary,” Trudy told the man who nodded and pulled a short thick glass. Jay laughed as he shoved his wallet back into his pocket.
“I should have guessed.” He tapped the bar top before grabbing the drink and heading back over to the table. Trudy kept facing the bar but watched in the mirror. She watched as Kim turned in her seat as Jay approached her, their fingers grazing as she took the glass from him. She watched Kim’s chair slide closer after Jay sat down closing the distance between the two of them. Her hand went to his thigh as he threw his arm over the back of her chair.
The bartender set her handsomely garnished drink on the bar as he spoke, “Ah, to be young and in love again.”
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