#overly lean engines

[girlgenius1111]

close to you part five

alexia putellas x leila ouahabi x jenni hermoso x reader a third installment of the orgy fic: rush by @vixwritesagain [all chapters + all OOYG chapters linked on her masterlist] the ice finally broken between r and alexia, things quickly spiral out of control in a very fun way. smut. 18+.

—

“Leila, leave the volume alone!” Jenni hissed. 

You chuckled as the music grew louder in the car, exchanging an amused look with Alexia who was sitting in the back seat next to you. 

When you’d gotten up that morning, a part of you had been worried that things were going to go back to how they’d been. Back to Alexia barely speaking, and the thick tension that followed the two of you around the villa. 

When you joined the other couple in the kitchen, while you didn’t get a smile from Ale, you did get eye contact and a cup of coffee slid across the counter. The coffee was perfect, just the way you liked it. You wondered whether Jenni had told Alexia how you took your coffee, but the way the blonde watched you shyly as you took your first sip suggested otherwise. Perhaps she’d been watching you for longer than you’d thought. 

It wasn’t awkward, nor was it overly erotic. It was almost as comfortable as a morning spent back at home with Leila, with a few more hands on you whenever someone walked by. You felt a surge of satisfaction when Alexia took a seat next to you, bumping your knee with hers. 

It had remained calm and innocent for the entirety of the morning, until you all realized that somehow you were already in need of another trip to the store. Alexia wanted more strawberries, Jenni wanted to get a pool float to lounge on, and Leila was insisting on more chocolate ice cream. And, well, you wouldn’t be left alone. 

All four of you set out for the store, a short drive away from where you were staying. Despite this short drive, Leila had insisted on sitting in the front seat because Jenni’s driving made her sick. This left you and Alexia next to each other. Only a few minutes into the drive, you felt her hand press against yours where it was resting on the seat between you. 

You were the one to lace your fingers over hers, glancing over to catch the tiniest curl of her smirk as she looked out the window. The sharp cut of her jaw was so pretty with her hair scraped back into a ponytail. Her smirk grew a little too wide to control, and all of a sudden your cheeks flushed thinking about what she might have been thinking about.  

You’d turned back to your own window when she lifted your joined hands and set them on your thigh. 

High on your thigh. 

“Not again, Jenni.” Your girlfriend whined in the front seat as the driver turned right and slowed considerably before slotting into a space in front of a shop. 

“It’s on the way! I just want one more look. Coming, Ale?” Jenni cut the engine and unclipped her seatbelt. 

“No,” Alexia replied. “But…” 

“I know.” Jenni interjected. “I won’t be long.” 

Silence fell when she’d exited and disappeared into what looked like the doors of tourist trap hell. Leila tapped away on her phone.

Still, Alexia’s fingers curled around your thigh. 

“Jenni buys me something from the places we go,” Alexia murmured, glancing over at you. 

“That’s nice of her.” 

“Sí.”

Maybe you should have left it there, but she was pretty and she was touching you and it felt right when you leaned across and kissed her. 

And then kissing her felt so nice and normal, you did it again and again. Less about expressing how attractive she was, and more about exploring how she felt against you. Before you could really register, you were unclicking your own seatbelt and moving closer. 

You broke apart for a second. She pulled back to free herself and twist towards you. Her hands reached up to cradle your face, then back into your hair. Her eyes really were beautiful. 

Alexia leaned in slowly, and when she kissed you again there was no debating who was in control. The opening of her mouth, the slow lick of her tongue, the way she held you so unwaveringly. All of it made your brain go blank. 

By the third pass, you breathed a moan to break up the wet clicking of your kiss. You pulled back first this time, trying to find any amount of time to put yourself back together. 

Alexia didn’t need time. As you sat back, she turned to the side, leaning over to kiss Leila with the same level of care. You heard her quiet Spanish mumble but couldn’t quite translate before she was sitting back, leaving all the space Leila needed to hop the console into the backseat. 

–

Jenni hummed as she walked back to the car, too excited about what she’d purchased to worry about how long she’d spent in the store. As soon as she gave Ale the keychain, Leila the snowglobe, and you the pretty blue coffee mug, she knew none of you would really be annoyed with her for taking 20 minutes. 

She was so undeniably happy with the way this trip was turning out that she missed the warning signs; the absence of Leila in the front seat, and the muted noises spilling out from the car. She flung open the door to the backseat. Her jaw dropped at the sight. 

Your shirt was gone off, your bra pushed up to bunch around your neck. You were reclined in Alexia’s arms, neck tilted back on her shoulder. Leila was crammed into the remaining space. One of her hands held your shorts and panties to the side, the other fucking two fingers in and out of you at a rapid pace. The wet sounds were very audible now that the door was open, as was the squeal of surprise you let out. 

“Oh my god!”  Jenni whisper-yelled, looking around frantically and slamming the door shut. She stomped around to the driver's side door, throwing it open and getting into the car. She turned, glaring at the three of you in the backseat. 

You were still laying against Alexia, and Leila was still touching you, though she’d stopped fucking in and out for the moment. You’d tugged your bra back down. There was a hint of shame on your flushed face, but only satisfaction on Leila and Alexia’s. 

“What is wrong with you three?” 

“What?” Leila said innocently. “We were just passing the time.” 

“By fucking in the rental car? In a public parking lot? Are you insane?” Jenni spat. “First of all, it is not sanitary. Second, you are public figures! Anyone could have seen.”

“Relax, Jenni,” Alexia grinned, reaching her hand out to tug lightly at her girlfriend’s ponytail. Jenni’s eye twitched, before she turned around and started the car. 

“I can see the headline now. ‘Barcelona player serviced by teammate, Ballon d’Or winner in car.’ Or ‘football star’s group sex in Ibiza.’” Jenni huffed, pulling out of the parking space with an unnecessarily sharp acceleration. 

She was so visibly annoyed, yet her words so absurd that all three of you in the backseat were struggling not to laugh. Leila broke first, of course, giggling into your shoulder even as you repeatedly slapped at her knee to try to get her to stop. It just made her giggle more, until all three of you were howling as you scrambled to do your seatbelts up again. 

Jenni shook her head, fighting the smile that pulled at her lips. It was such a stark contrast to how you and Alexia had been behaving the whole trip. She looked in the rearview mirror briefly, finding Alexia nearly doubled over, and it was really a struggle not to grin too. 

“No shop for you three. You’ve lost the privilege of being in public.” She said faux-sternly. 

Leila turned to you, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively. “Well, if we’re headed home…” 

The brunette began to trail her fingers back up your thigh, as Alexia’s lips returned to your neck without hesitation. Both of them jumped away from you, though, at the sound of Jenni’s voice. 

“No!” She said sharply, glancing back at you, a familiar glint in her eye. “I get to finish her when we get home. That is the punishment.” 

—

the next day

The car ride to the restaurant was blissful. Jenni drove, with her girlfriend in the passenger seat. Leila had squished herself into the middle seat to be closer to you, your head resting against her shoulder. 

It had been a slow day spent by the pool. None of you had gotten much sleep the night before, thoroughly distracted by each other into the early hours of the morning. As a result, all four of you awoke in the late morning with nothing on your minds but eating breakfast and getting in a nap by the pool. 

It was a day entirely devoted to relaxation and you were feeling calm, excited to eat a good meal then curl up on the couch for a movie upon returning to the villa. 

Calm, until you caught Alexia eyeing you from the front seat. There was something familiar about the way she was looking at you. You felt your stomach flutter with excitement. 

You were no longer sure what the evening had in store as Jenni parked the car and opened your door for you. Alexia clearly had something in mind from the brush of her hand against your ass on the way inside. 

Alexia was about to follow you into the restaurant, a hungry look on her face that had nothing to do with the food, when Jenni grabbed her wrist and pulled her back. Alexia looked up at her girlfriend with her eyebrows raised, the two holding eye contact for a moment before Jenni spoke. 

“We’re in public. Behave yourself.” She murmured, as if she had been reading Alexia’s mind earlier. It was evident that the striker knew Alexia was plotting something, though she wasn’t sure what. 

“Or what?” Alexia replied defiantly, feeling a surge of excitement rush through her as Jenni’s grip tightened on her wrist. 

“You know what. Behave. Or you’ll regret it.” Jenni’s tone was dripping with authority, and it took everything in the midfielder not to make an undignified noise. She was sure Jenni would make her regret it. Later. 

But she was also sure she wanted to touch you in the restaurant, so close to all those people who would have no idea what was going on. In front of your girlfriend and her girlfriend. 

And as much as she’d never admit it, she was sure she wanted Jenni to put her in her place after.

With a smile, Alexia tugged her hand away from her girlfriend and turned to walk into the restaurant. 

You didn’t think much of it when Alexia slipped into the booth next to you. Given the intensity of the eye fucking Jenni was giving her, there was something private brewing between them. 

“Lei, do you want to split the–oh,” you gasped, jumping in your seat at the feeling of Alexia’s large hand settling high up on your thigh. You could feel her gaze burning into the side of your face as she squeezed. 

“Bebé? You okay?” Leila checked as she held out your water glass. 

You nodded, taking it. “Yeah. Sorry. Just misread.” 

You took stock of the lengthy tablecloth which surely covered her actions to the rest of the restaurant. All the while, Alexia’s hand stroked over the fabric of your dress, sliding down until she met the skin, then back up until she could nudge at your other leg. Without thinking, you parted them.

Was it a happy coincidence that Leila had you all worked up before you’d left the house? Or had the decision to slip your panties off been intentional on her part? Either way, you had to force your eyes back to your menu. 

The blonde’s hand shifted, sliding up under your dress and closer to your bare core. You could feel the heat of her thigh pressed against yours. You held your breath, willing yourself not to give anything away even as Alexia’s little finger finally made contact with your center, a surprised huff leaving her lips. 

“Puta.” Alexia said under her breath, pushing your legs slightly wider. 

You bit your lip, the ability to focus on the words on the menu evading you. All you could think about was Alexia’s hand on you. How if her fingers pushed just a little bit, they’d be perfect to grind down against. How easy it would be for her to slip inside you, with no one around any the wiser.  

“Bebé?” Leila called, her eyebrows knitted together as she looked at you. Your head snapped up, finding all three women staring at you. 

“What?” You replied, wide eyed in an attempt to look innocent even under Jenni’s stare.

“Do you want to split something?” 

Forcing the intoxicating feeling of Alexia touching you from your mind, you conversed with Leila, deciding on what you wanted to split with her. The woman next to you must have been feeling generous, or else she was trying to put Jenni’s suspicions to rest, because she didn’t move her hand for a few more minutes. It just rested against you, warm, tempting and wholly distracting. 

It was only once you’d all ordered that Alexia acted, spreading you apart with her fingers and pressing them even closer against you. Whether intentionally or not, the pad of her finger pressed against your entrance and you gasped in surprise, quickly turning the sound into an unconvincing cough. 

Across the table, Leila and Jenni were wearing completely contrary expressions; Leila with a knowing grin, and Jenni’s lips pressed into a thin line. 

And as much as you wanted Alexia’s fingers, you couldn’t help but think that Jenni had a point. 

As soon as the thought had crossed your mind, Alexia slipped her hand from your leg. “I’m going to the bathroom.” 

Jenni pushed her chair out almost immediately. “I’ll come and zip up.” 

“No.” Alexia stopped her sharply turning pointedly to you as she stood up. “I have help.” 

Without even thinking, you got up too, quickly glancing at your girlfriend to make sure she seemed okay. Of course, she was grinning at you, giving you a not-so-subtle nod as you began to follow Alexia. 

Jenni sank slowly back into her chair, raking her fingers through her hair with a huff. 

Her frustrated expression met Leila’s elated one, and the striker rolled her eyes. 

“I love this trip.” Leila sighed. 

“I don’t.” Jenni grumbled. 

Leila giggled, patting her friend on the shoulder reassuringly. “Liar.” 

Jenni opted not to reply. She looked at her watch, noting the time. She’d give Alexia 5 minutes, and if you still weren’t back she was going to do something. Exactly what she was going to do, she wasn’t quite sure. 

—

Alexia could have skipped to the bathroom, but she maintained her composure, walking casually and calmly with you trailing just behind her. The smallest of smirks pulled at her lips at the sight of the restroom door; it was a single stall, which made her plans significantly easier to follow through with.

She opened the door, politely gesturing for you to go in first, as if she wasn’t very obviously about to fuck you in a public bathroom. Too turned on to care much about the location, you wrapped yourself around her back as she closed and locked the door, mouthing at her neck. The blonde turned in your hold, backing you up until she had you pressed against the wall, her lips finding yours in a searing kiss. 

“Rapido, sí?” She mumbled, pawing your dress up around your hips and sliding her hand down the front of your body. Her hand mirrored her words, quickly swiping through your core and circling over your clit. 

You whined needily. Alexia’s free hand immediately clamped down over your mouth as her gaze caught yours. 

“Shh.” She whispered, pressing her forehead to yours as she slid her fingers further down and pushed inside. Her touch was urgent, her fingers  pumping in and out just like Jenni’s would. There was something so hot about her taking you like this, unable to wait. You relished in the rush of adrenaline knowing that anyone could walk by the door and hear the pornographic sounds that Alexia’s hand was barely muffling. 

She was everywhere, and it only heightened the experience. She knew you well enough by now to know just how to get you there. 

You felt your stomach begin to tighten, the heel of the blonde’s hand pressing into your clit with every pass. 

“I-” You tried to warn her, barely able to get a syllable out of your mouth or around her hand, which still covered half your face.

“Close?” She murmured, an intense look in her eyes that made your knees feel even weaker than they already did. You nodded frantically, and she sped up, easily fucking you to the peak of your orgasm, and through it. 

You whined incoherently as you came, head falling forward onto your captain’s shoulder with a soft thump. 

Alexia slowed inside of you, savoring the feeling of your walls clenching around her fingers. You’d been enjoying each and every glimpse of gentle Alexia that you got, and this time was no different. 

She slid her fingers from you slowly, lingering at your clit just to watch you shiver through the aftershocks. Your arms loosened around her neck as you let your head rest against the wall.

“Okay?” She breathed, leaning back to get a look at your face. 

“Fuck.” You huffed. “Yeah, I’m okay.” 

Alexia’s bright smile only lasted a second before she was leaning in to softly peck at your lips. “You need a minute?” 

“No. Can I…?” You stroked down her front to the waist of her tight little skirt. 

“No.” Alexia answered immediately. And while you still felt the pang of rejection, the kiss she pressed to your cheek and her cunning smirk gave insight to her thought process. “Later.” 

“Later.” You agreed, wondering just how masochistic Alexia could be. “We should get back before Jenni comes over and breaks the door down.” 

Alexia unwrapped herself from you, a twinkle in her eye at the mention of her girlfriend. Moving to wash her hands at the sink, she dismissed your concern with a lilt. “Jenni can wait.” 

Jenni did not like to wait, however, and you both knew that very well. With a fond shake of your head, you adjusted your dress one last time, and headed for the door. You wouldn’t put it past Jenni to include you in whatever punishment she was cooking up, and denied was not how you wanted to spend your final night. 

“I’ll go out first.” You declared, feeling Alexia’s eyes on you in the mirror as you slipped out the door, carefully shutting it behind you. 

Making your way back to the table, you tried to hide your amusement at the state of your girlfriend and Alexia’s. Leila looked completely relaxed, sipping at her drink and speaking rapidly to Jenni, who was looking over her shoulder at you. The striker looked torn between annoyed and excited, and you knew it hadn’t just been Alexia that craved their usual dynamic. 

As soon as you sat down at the table, Leila turned her full attention to you. “Hi, bebé,” she sang dreamily, reaching out to wipe a smudge of Alexia’s lipstick off your neck. 

“Hi,” you replied, admittedly getting a bit lost in her bright smile. 

“Ugh.” Jenni complained, pointedly turning in her chair away from the two of you. 

Alexia made her appearance, then, her bratty mood apparently still in place as she wrapped her arms around Jenni from behind and placed a few kisses on the striker’s neck. 

Jenni was somewhere between amused and exasperated, staring at the blonde until she finally took her seat next to you. It was a staring standoff, each waiting for the other to crack and say something first. 

“Amor, I hope you brought ear plugs. We’ll need them tonight.” Leila giggled finally, just barely dodging the elbow Jenni threw her way. 

“Shut up Leila.” Jenni grumbled, the heat in her eyes as she stared her girlfriend down telling everyone that Leila was correct. 

—

“I was not snoring.” You snapped, shooting a glare at Jenni, who was chuckling to herself as she filled up her water bottle. 

“You were! Ale and I could hear you over the sound of the plane engine.” She snorted, looking to her girlfriend for confirmation. 

Alexia had the hood of her sweatshirt pulled up around her head, so you could barely see her face, yet her amusement was clear in her tone. “You snore louder.” 

“I do not!” Jenni objected, tucking the bottle into her bag and crossing her arms over her chest. 

Collectively, the rest of you groaned. A much delayed flight had made the day way too long after your sleepless night, and all you wanted was to go home. 

Jenni seemed to be intent on prolonging the trip, though, having stopped to go to the bathroom, stopped to get a snack, and stopped to tie her shoes two different times. The striker was evidently enjoying how much she was annoying you.  

“I’m not walking again until you all agree that I don’t snore. Ale, you can go first.” 

Alexia studied her girlfriend for a moment, shaking her head fondly before turning on her heel and continuing on her way. You and Leila followed suit a little slower. 

The sound of hurried footsteps followed you, Jenni huffing her annoyance. “Add it to the list, Alexia.” 

Alexia’s cheeks flushed as she glanced back at the comment, knowing exactly what list Jenni was referring to; every single one of her transgressions over the past few days, beginning with the car… incident. 

As Jenni used her long strides to catch up with her girlfriend, your own curled her spare hand around the back of your neck. You groaned softly at the gentle rub of her fingers, wanting nothing more than to throw your bag down and curl up against her. 

“Home?” She suggested quietly. 

“Home.” You agreed, unable to hide the relief in your voice at the thought. There was something so special about the time you spent alone with Leila. You could tell Jenni and Alexia felt the same way, if the way they were clinging onto each other much more publicly was any indication. The long journey home only made your longing for some peace and quiet grow. 

The couples were headed in different directions once you finally exited the airport. You began to say your goodbyes, Jenni pulling you into a hug first with a wry smirk on her face. 

“Thanks for coming with us, cari,” she murmured. “We had fun with you.” 

“Thanks for meddling.” You chuckled. 

Alexia was waiting for you as Jenni pulled away, hesitantly opening her arms up for you. You walked into them, squeezing the taller woman in a tight hug. 

“Gracias, cari.” Alexia murmured, pulling away after a moment and holding you at arms length. “I will see you soon, yes?”

There was a very suggestive lift of her eyebrow. 

“Sí,” you agreed, feeling Leila’s arms wrap around you from behind. 

“Ale, do you think I could have my girlfriend back please?” She grinned, kissing your cheek as she continued to pull you away from your captain. Alexia took her hands off you, lacing her fingers with Jenni. 

“For now.” She agreed, smiling over her shoulder as she began to walk to her car with Jenni. 

You turned, following Leila towards your own as she chattered about what she wanted to order for dinner. You were excited to have some time with her at home alone, but also very aware you’d be seeing Alexia and Jenni again soon. 

And that prospect was also exciting. Very exciting. 

—

thanks for coming along on this silly little domestically smutty journey with me.

appreciate you all very much, but none more so than @vixwritesagain who is incredibly smart and helpful and truly just a lovely person.

[julietsf1]

Push & Pull - Franco Colapinto x Reader

summary: Y/N has always kept Franco at a distance, teasing and confident that he’d never give up on her. But when he suddenly pulls away, she can’t stop thinking about him, realizing she might care more than she’s let on. Could it be that he’s been waiting for her to figure it out all along? (6k words)

Warnings: None

AN: Another one for all you hotties! If any Argentinians read this pls recommend me some things to do in Buenos Aires!! I'm visiting next month ^-^ ciao

__________________________________________

The sun hung high over the paddock, its warmth beating down on the sea of activity buzzing between the garages. I walked beside Lando, who is both my best friend in the entire world but also my worst nightmare as his PR rep. I adored him, though. Lando, as usual, was in the middle of an overly dramatic retelling of his latest training session.

But today, I wasn’t paying much attention. My focus kept drifting—not so subtly—toward someone else entirely.

“You know,” Lando said, waving his hand, helmet tucked under his arm, “if you’re hoping for another one of Franco’s smirks, maybe just walk up and wave a banner next time. Save us both the suspense. I mean, you’ve already pulled the ‘hot dress’ stunt last week.”

I flicked my eyes to the right. There he was, standing outside the Williams home, laughing with one of his engineers, completely oblivious to my presence. Green eyes and a beaming smile that could undo me with a single glance.

Lando snapped his fingers in front of my face. “Hello? Are you even listening?”

“Huh? Yeah, something about banners or your genius or something,” I muttered, my gaze still lingering on Franco.

Lando shook his head, grinning. “You’ve got it bad, don’t you?”

I frowned. “What are you talking about?”

Lando smirked, raising an eyebrow. “Come on, you’ve been sneaking looks the Williams motorhome since we left the garage. Just admit it. You are definitly not staring at James Vowels over there.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” I scoffed, adjusting my sunglasses with forced nonchalance. “I’m just people-watching.”

“Right,” Lando said with a deadpan expression, “because there’s nothing more captivating than Franco ‘green eyes and a fluffy hair’ Colapinto.”

My lips quirked up despite myself, but before I could respond, a familiar voice cut through the paddock noise.

“Y/N! Looking for me?”

Franco’s voice carried over the chatter, as smooth and confident as ever. He strolled up with his usual big smile, and despite my best efforts, I felt my pulse quicken.

“Looking for you?” I raised an eyebrow, keeping my tone cool. “Why would I be looking for you?”

Franco grinned, leaning in just enough to make my heart skip. “Because you always do. Can’t resist me.”

Lando snorted loudly, and I fought the urge to roll my eyes at both of them. “Pretty sure I’m here for work, Franco,” I said dryly, crossing my arms. “Not to boost your ego.”

“Work?” Franco chuckled, throwing a quick glance at Lando. “Well, if that’s what it takes to finally get some one-on-one time with you, I could use a good publicist.”

I narrowed my eyes playfully. “You mean someone to clean up all the damage you do in your interviews?”

“Something like that maybe,” Franco replied, his grin widening. He leaned in slightly more, his voice lowering a bit. “But if you’re up for it, I bet we could give them something that'll really make headlines, hermosa.”

My heart skipped—he had a way of doing that. Always flirting, always smooth. I could feel Lando’s eyes practically burning holes into the side of my head, waiting for my reaction.

“Bye, Colapinto,” I teased back, tilting my head slightly. “We’re on our way to Alex. Don’t you have to focus on your practice session or something?”

Lando let out a soft, exaggerated “Ouch!” behind me.

"Point taken," Franco chuckled softly. "But don’t worry, hermosa, I’m always around when you need me."

I raised an eyebrow, holding his gaze for a moment longer before shrugging. “Of course you are.”

And just like that, I turned away, flashing a brief, teasing smile before walking straight toward Alex, who was conveniently nearby. I could practically feel Franco’s eyes on me, the way his playful mood shifted just slightly at the sight of me talking to his teammate instead of him.

Lando fell in step beside me, clearly enjoying every second of the interaction. “Wow. Just… wow. You’ve got the poor guy on the ropes, and you’re still playing it cool.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said, my tone casual but a little too pleased with myself.

“Oh, come on,” Lando scoffed. “He is looking at you the way I look at capri suns while you barely even looked at him when he flirted with you. And now you’re talking to Alex? Cold-blooded.”

I shot him a side glance. “I came here to arrange a damage control golf session for you, Lando. I’m not playing any games.”

“Yeah sure,” Lando said, raising an eyebrow. “You have Alex’s number; you could just text about that. I think you needed your daily dose of Franco this morning.”

I just smiled and waved it off. “It’s just a small bonus.”

“You know, you keep this up, and Franco might actually grow a spine and stop chasing you. Then what?”

“Then I’ll cross that bridge when I get there,” I replied smoothly.

Lando shook his head, an amused smile tugging at his lips. “I’m just saying, even for me, it’s confusing whether you actually want him or not. Can’t imagine what is going on in his head.”

I glanced back over my shoulder at Franco, who was now back with his engineer, though his eyes lingered in my direction for just a second too long. I turned back to Lando, my smirk still firmly in place.

..

The post-qualifying buzz was winding down, but I was just getting started. There was just something undeniably fun about watching Franco get wound up, especially when I knew exactly how to push his buttons. He hadn’t taken his eyes off me since our earlier exchange, and that gave me all the more reason to turn up the heat.

Oscar was standing near the garage, chatting with a couple of engineers, looking completely unbothered by anything that wasn’t race-related. The perfect opportunity.

With a casual smile, I sauntered over, making sure every move was within Franco’s line of sight. I could feel his gaze burning into me, that sharp, undeniable tension building the closer I got to Oscar.

“Hey, Oscar!” I called, stepping up beside him, all friendly charm and bright smiles. “Great qualifying today. P3, right?”

Oscar chuckled, completely unaware of the storm brewing a few garages down. “Yeah, just behind Lando. He hasn’t stopped reminding me.” He rolled his eyes. “But I’ll get him back tomorrow.”

“Oh, I’m sure,” I said, leaning in just enough to make it look a little too friendly. “But you did great out there. Don’t let Lando’s big mouth get to you.”

Oscar smiled, clearly pleased by the compliment. “Thanks, Y/N. Means a lot.”

I could feel Franco’s attention prickling at the back of my neck, like a live wire sparking just out of sight. He wasn’t making a scene—yet—but I knew him well enough to know that the longer I kept this up, the more he’d unravel.

Oscar, bless him, remained blissfully unaware as I laughed at something he said, placing a hand lightly on his arm. He didn’t flinch, didn’t even notice the deliberate touch, but I knew Franco did. I didn’t need to look over to know that his jaw was probably clenched, his hands likely fisted at his sides, trying and failing to keep his cool.

“Really, Y/N?” Lando’s voice broke through, his tone dripping with amusement as he strolled up beside me. “Oscar? That’s your move?”

I blinked innocently at him. “What? We’re just having a nice chat.”

Lando shot me a knowing look. “Talk to him, sure. But, come on, this is hardly subtle.”

Oscar frowned, clearly confused. “Wait, what am I missing?”

Lando smirked, crossing his arms as he glanced toward Franco’s garage. “Only the fact that you’re a pawn in Y/N’s little game. Poor Franco looks like he’s about to storm over here any second now.”

Oscar blinked. “Franco? Why would—” He glanced in Franco’s direction, then back at me, the realization slowly dawning. “Oh. I see.”

I shrugged, still smiling. “Lando’s being dramatic, as usual.”

Lando snorted. “Am I? Because if looks could kill, Franco would’ve turned you both into toast about five minutes ago.”

Oscar looked between us, still processing what was happening. “You are not setting me up for some weird beef with Franco, right?”

I patted Oscar’s arm. “Don’t worry about it. You’re just an innocent bystander.”

Oscar, ever the polite one, chuckled awkwardly. “Uh, right. Well, I should probably get going. See you guys later.”

As soon as Oscar made his hasty retreat, Lando turned to me, a wicked grin on his face. “You are cruel. I mean, Franco’s been flirting with you for weeks, and now you’re just… torturing the poor guy.”

“I’m not torturing him,” I replied, though my smile betrayed my amusement. “He’s fine.”

Lando raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. “You sure about that? He’s got the look of someone who just found out his favorite show’s been canceled.”

I shot a glance toward Franco, and sure enough, he was standing just a little too still, his jaw clenched as he glared in our direction. A thrill shot through me—he was unraveling, just like I knew he would.

“He’ll get over it,” I said, my tone light but full of mischief.

Lando sighed, leaning in with a grin. “Keep this up and Franco’s going to start writing poetry. You might want to give him a break before it gets tragic.”

My smirk grew, but there was a flicker of something else beneath it—a thrill, yes, but also a dangerous kind of enjoyment. I liked knowing I had this power over him, but at the same time, I wondered just how far I could push him before he finally snapped.

“You know, one of these days, it’s gonna get messy,” Lando teased, clearly enjoying the drama. “And when it does, I hope you’re ready.”

I rolled my eyes, though I couldn’t stop the tiny pang of anticipation that flared up at Lando’s words. “I’ll be fine.”

“Famous last words,” Lando quipped, casting another glance at Franco. “Seriously though, I don’t think I’ve ever seen him this wound up. You’re going to need more than a PR damage control strategy when this all blows up.”

I stole one last look at Franco, who was now pretending to be engrossed in a conversation with his engineer, though his eyes kept darting over to me. The tension between us was palpable, and for a second, I felt the heat of it settle in my chest.

“It will be fine, Lando! Stop stressing so much,” I said confidently, though his warning echoed in the back of my mind.

Lando just laughed. “If you say so. But I’m getting front-row seats when it happens.”

..

The hotel lobby was dimly lit, casting a warm glow over the elegant space. I strolled in, mentally exhausted from a day of media meetings, ready to unwind. The plush chairs and quiet ambiance promised me some much-needed relaxation.

But of course, things never went as planned when Franco was around.

I spotted him instantly, leaning casually against the reception desk, chatting with a hotel staff member. The way his eyes lit up when they landed on me was unmistakable—like I was exactly what he had been waiting for.

“Y/N,” Franco called out, his voice smooth and rich as he broke into a wide grin. He abandoned the conversation with the staff member and headed straight for me, the playful glint in his eyes making my stomach flip. “Fancy running into you here.”

“Franco,” I greeted, letting my lips curve into a small smile. “You really do seem to be everywhere these days.”

“Can you really blame me?” Franco said with a playful grin, moving closer, his presence radiating that effortless charm that always set my pulse racing, his eyes trailing up and down, taking me in. “I tend to gravitate toward the best things in life.”

I laughed softly, shaking my head. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Ridiculously charming,” Franco corrected with a wink. “Have you eaten yet?”

The question hung in the air for a beat, and I could see the flicker of hope in his eyes. He was practically handing me the opportunity to push him a bit again.

“No, no dinner,” I answered slowly, watching as his grin widened.

“Perfect,” he said, his eyes gleaming. “What do you say we fix that? There’s this incredible little spot nearby—quiet, cozy, great steak. I could use the company.” He paused, leaning in slightly, his voice dropping a little. “Especially your company.”

I raised an eyebrow, biting back the urge to laugh at how effortlessly flirty he always was. He was good, I had to admit that. But I wasn’t about to make it that easy for him. Where’s the fun in that?

“Oh?” I said, feigning interest, though I knew exactly how I’d respond. “That sounds tempting.”

Franco’s grin grew, and he took another step closer, his hand resting on the back of a chair near us, bringing him even more into my personal space. “Most definitely. You, me, good food, and a quiet night… what’s not to like?”

I tilted my head, letting my gaze linger on him for a moment before replying. “Mmm, I don’t know, Franco. It’s been a long day. I might just head to bed.”

Franco’s expression faltered, but only for a second. He recovered quickly, his smirk never quite leaving. “We’ll keep it simple. No grand gestures, no expectations—just good food and a little company.” He leaned in, his voice dropping to a teasing whisper. “I promise I’ll behave.”

I laughed softly, the sound teasing. “You? Behave? I find that hard to believe.”

Franco’s grin widened, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “I can be on my best behavior... if the moment calls for it.”

I gave him a slow, appraising look, letting the tension build between us. I could see the way his eyes darkened, the slight shift in his posture as he waited for my answer.

“Well,” I drawled, my voice teasing as I leaned back against the wall, “maybe another time.”

Franco’s smile fell slightly. “Another time?”

I nodded, the corners of my lips curling up as I played with him. “Yeah. I mean, you make a good offer, Franco. But I’ve got an early morning tomorrow, and I need my beauty sleep.”

Franco tried to keep his cool, but I could see the flash of disappointment in his eyes.

“Beauty sleep?” he asked, his voice still carrying that flirty tone, though it was softer now. “You don’t need any of that.”

I smirked, letting my gaze flick up and down him for a brief moment. “Loving the flattery, though.”

“So, dinner tomorrow maybe?” he asked again, hopeful.

My smile turned more teasing as I gently patted his arm. “Another time.”

Franco’s smirk faltered, and he ran a hand through his hair, his confidence slipping just slightly. “You’re killing me, Y/N.”

“Not yet,” I replied, my tone light but filled with playful challenge.

Franco chuckled, though it was clear he was a little defeated. “Fine. But you owe me one.”

“Do I?” I teased, tilting my head playfully. “Goodnight, Franco.”

He watched me go, standing there in the lobby, a little defeated but still holding onto that spark of hope I’d dangled in front of him. I didn’t look back, but I could feel his eyes on me the entire way to the elevator.

As I rode up to my room, the thrill of our back-and-forth lingered. Seeing him lose his mind over me was fun—really fun—but there was something about tonight that felt different. Hurt eyes that lingered just a bit too long. Maybe I was taking it too far.

..

The next day had been a whirlwind of post-qualifying interviews and pre-race prep, but none of it could distract me from the change in Franco’s behavior. After last night’s playful banter at the hotel, I expected him to keep up the chase. But today, something was different.

No looks, no comments, nothing.

And worst of all? He was very publicly flirting with someone else. Right in the middle of the paddock.

And not just anyone—a stunning blonde journalist with a smile too bright and a laugh that seemed to come far too easily. It wasn’t the harmless banter I was used to seeing from him. No, this was something different. He was invested, leaning in close, saying something that made the blonde practically cling to his every word.

Irritation flared in me, but I did my best to mask it.

“You’re being weird,” Lando remarked, raising his eyebrows as he caught me staring across the road of the McLaren motorhome. “Did you swallow a lemon or something?”

“I’m not being weird,” I snapped, a little too quickly, my eyes still fixed on Franco as he threw his head back, laughing at something the journalist said. “He’s… being weird.”

Lando followed my gaze, and a slow grin spread across his face. “Ah, I see. You’re not used to this, are you?”

“Used to what?” I tried to play it cool but was failing miserably.

Lando laughed. “Used to him not obsessing over your every move.”

I rolled my eyes. “Please, I really do not care.”

“I called it.” Lando smirked, leaning against the wall, clearly enjoying himself. “Looks like Franco’s finally had enough of your games.”

The words hit me harder than I expected. Sick of chasing after me? That couldn’t be it. Franco had always flirted with me, always seemed like he enjoyed our interactions as much as I did. And now? Now he was acting like I didn’t exist. Not even a glance in my direction.

I crossed my arms, trying to maintain an air of indifference, but Lando could see right through it. “He cannot be sick of me.”

Lando raised an eyebrow. “I don’t know, darling, but it looks like he’s pretty content chatting up Blondie over there.”

I gritted my teeth. “He’s just being polite.”

“Uh-huh,” Lando said, the grin never leaving his face. “Sure. Keep telling yourself that.”

I stole another glance toward Franco, who was now laughing again at something else the blonde said, his hand resting on the bar beside her. The ease of it, the fact that he wasn’t sparing me even a glance, gnawed at me.

Lando chuckled. “Wow. Easy there, tiger. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you like this.”

“Like what?” I snapped, my frustration bubbling to the surface.

“So worked up and jealous,” Lando said with a shrug. “He’s just having a good chat with the sexy Spanish lady, and you’re over here, practically steaming.”

“I’m not jealous,” I bit out, my voice sharper than I intended.

Lando raised his hands in mock surrender. “Hey, I’m just calling it like I see it. I haven’t seen you this stressed since I my DM’s leaked last year. If you really care, you might want to do something about this before he completely forgets about you.”

My pulse quickened. Leave it to Lando to offer up some brutal honesty. The idea of Franco actually moving on, of him getting over me, didn’t sit right. Not at all. I had enjoyed the back-and-forth with him, the flirting, the tension. But this? No. This was not good.

“And then there’s the padel match yesterday evening,” Lando added, casually tossing out the words like a grenade.

I blinked, confused. “The what now?”

“Franco,” Lando explained, smiling a bit awkwardly now. “He went on a padel date with that journalist yesterday. It’s all over the paddock.”

My stomach twisted, but I forced myself to keep my expression neutral. “So what? He can play padel with whoever he wants.”

Lando’s grin widened. “Right. Because you’re totally not bothered by the fact that he’s off playing padel and flirting with someone else.”

“I’m most certainly not,” I shot back, my voice sharper than intended.

Lando laughed, leaning in closer as if he’d just discovered the punchline to his favorite joke. “Oh, you so are. It’s written all over your face.”

I clenched my jaw, glaring at him. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Sure, sweetie,” Lando said, clearly not buying it. “What is it that they say? You don’t know what you’ve got until it’s gone or something.”

My eyes flicked back to Franco, and I felt that familiar twinge of irritation. He still hadn’t looked my way. Normally, by now, he’d have come over with one of his cheeky comments, trying to make me smile. But now? He was completely engrossed in his conversation with the journalist, as if I didn’t exist.

“He’s just trying to make me jealous,” I muttered, more to myself than to Lando.

Lando snickered. “I don’t know, Y/N, maybe he’s already over you.”

The comment hit me, and for a moment, my usual confidence wavered. I felt the sting of it—not as a challenge, but as something that didn’t sit right in my chest. Franco moving on? That wasn’t supposed to happen.

“Yeah, okay,” I muttered, more to myself than to Lando, my voice not as steady as I would’ve liked. I tried to brush it off, but it still lingered.

Lando noticed the shift in my tone, his smirk softening slightly. “Whoa, I was just messing around. I didn’t mean to—”

I forced a small smile, waving him off. “It’s fine. I just… wasn’t expecting that, I guess.” I paused, then shrugged. “Anyway, whatever. He’ll come around. Maybe.”

Lando looked like he was about to say something else, but I was already walking off, my thoughts swirling with what-ifs. I wasn’t sure why it bothered me so much, but I wasn’t about to dwell on it—not yet.

But the unease lingered.

..

The day hadn’t gone as expected. Franco spent the entire afternoon being... different. Detached, even. Chatting up what felt like all the girls in the paddock, from catering staff to marshals. Especially that blonde journalist. The thought made my stomach twist in a way I wasn’t used to.

I couldn’t ignore it anymore. I needed to talk about this, and who better than the girls?

As I walked into the small café where I was meeting up with Kika and Alexandra, I took a deep breath. The quiet buzz of conversation and the aroma of freshly brewed coffee filled the air, but my mind was far from grounded.

Kika spotted me first, waving me over with a wide grin. “There she is! Come sit, we were just talking about you.”

I slid into the booth, trying to force a smile. “All good things, I hope?”

Alexandra gave me a soft, knowing look, but Kika, ever the lively one, was quick to dive in. “Of course! But you look stressed. Spill.”

I sighed, glancing between the two of them. “It’s... Franco.”

Kika’s eyes lit up immediately, like she’d just been handed a fresh piece of juicy gossip. “Ah, your fanboy. What did he do now?”

“It’s not what he did exactly,” I said, picking at the edge of the menu absentmindedly. “It’s more what he didn’t do.”

Alexandra leaned in slightly, her voice calm and curious. “What do you mean?”

I let out a frustrated breath. “He’s been different. Ever since last night. He asked me to dinner, I played with him a little—kept things flirty, but didn’t say yes. And now, today, he’s... ignoring me. He spent all day flirting with that blonde journalist.”

Kika raised an eyebrow, sitting back with a smirk. “So, you’re saying you miss the attention?”

“No!” I replied quickly, but the doubt in my voice betrayed me. “It’s not that. It’s just... I don’t get why he suddenly doesn’t care. He’s been chasing me for weeks.”

Alexandra gave a small smile, her eyes gentle. “Maybe he’s tired of the chase.”

I frowned, not liking the sound of that at all. “Tired of the chase?”

“Yeah,” Kika chimed in, her tone playful but pointed. “Maybe the poor guy finally got sick of working so hard. He’s been trying and trying, but you’ve been making him run in circles.”

I crossed my arms, feeling more defensive than I liked. “He knew what this was. It’s just... fun.”

Kika snorted. “Fun for who? Hard to get gets exhausting after a while, sweetie.”

I opened my mouth to argue, but Alexandra spoke first, her voice soft but firm. “Y/N, maybe it’s more than just a game to him. And from what I’m hearing, maybe it’s more to you too, but you’re not ready to admit that.”

I hesitated, the words striking closer to home than I wanted to admit. I’d always enjoyed the back-and-forth with Franco, the way he chased me, how easy it was to keep him on edge. But today? Today felt different. Seeing him flirt with someone else... it bothered me more than it should.

“You think I actually like him?” I asked, trying to keep my voice casual but failing miserably.

Kika grinned, her eyes dancing with mischief. “Oh, sweetie, you don’t just like him. You’re jealous.”

I scowled, pushing my hair back as if the action would help me regain some control. “I’m not jealous.”

“Uh-huh,” Kika teased, leaning forward. “That’s why you’ve been stewing all day.”

Alexandra, ever the caring one, placed a gentle hand on my arm. “It’s okay to admit it. Sometimes, these things sneak up on you.”

I looked between the two of them, feeling a mix of frustration and confusion. Had I really let it get this far? Was I jealous? The idea of Franco actually moving on, actually losing interest in me, made my chest tighten in a way that was entirely unfamiliar.

“What do I do?” I finally asked, my voice quieter now, the bravado gone.

Kika’s eyes sparkled with excitement, leaning in with a mischievous grin. “Alright, here’s the plan: tonight, we’re going out, and you’re going to look amazing. We’ll remind Franco exactly why he’s been chasing you all this time. By the end of the night, he won’t be able to take his eyes off you.”

She paused, her grin widening. “Trust me, he’ll forget those other girls even exist.”

Alexandra smiled softly. “Or, you could just talk to him. Tell him how you feel.”

Kika waved that suggestion off. “Yeah, we’ll get to that part eventually. First, we make him sweat a little.”

I couldn’t help but laugh at Kika’s enthusiasm, but Alexandra’s words lingered. Maybe I did need to talk to him. But not yet. Not until I figured out exactly what I wanted to say—and what I wanted from him.

“Alright,” I said, a new determination settling over me. “Let’s go out tonight.”

Kika grinned like she had just won the lottery. “That’s my girl. Franco won’t know what hit him.”

The thought of seeing Franco’s reaction later sent a thrill through me, but there was something else too—something that was still unresolved, simmering just below the surface. For now, though, I was ready to play this game one last time.

..

Later that evening, the city was alive with music and lights, and I found myself standing in front of a mirror, adjusting the dress Kika had practically forced me into. It was sleek, eye-catching, and made me feel like I owned the night. I had to admit—Kika’s plan to make an impression was already working, and we hadn’t even left the hotel yet.

Kika and Alexandra stood behind me, both beaming with approval.

“Perfect,” Kika declared, crossing her arms with satisfaction. “Franco won’t know what hit him.”

Alexandra smiled softly, leaning against the wall. “You do look stunning, Y/N. But remember—don’t do this just for him. Do it because you feel good.”

I met her eyes in the mirror and gave a small nod. “Yeah, I know.” But there was no denying it—tonight, I wanted Franco to see exactly what he’d been missing. The uncertainty of the day still gnawed at me, but if nothing else, I would remind him who had the upper hand.

“Alright, ladies, let’s go,” Kika said with a dramatic flourish. “The night awaits, and so does your boy.”

I rolled my eyes at the nickname, but I couldn’t help the small smile that crept onto my face. Maybe tonight was exactly what I needed—a chance to reset and reclaim my confidence.

The club was packed, the music pulsing through the air as we stepped inside. Neon lights flashed over the crowd, and the atmosphere buzzed with energy. My heart beat in time with the rhythm, a sense of anticipation building.

It didn’t take long for me to spot Franco.

He was standing by the bar, drink in hand, surrounded by a few friends. And, of course, the blonde journalist was there too, her laughter ringing out a little too loud, her hand lingering a little too long on Franco’s arm. But she wasn’t the issue. The only one who mattered was Franco.

Kika nudged me, leaning in to whisper. “Time to work your magic.”

I smirked but kept my focus forward as we passed by the bar, brushing deliberately close to Franco. I didn’t turn to look at him—just a quick glance from the corner of my eye—but I knew he saw me.

Yet, he didn’t move. Didn’t even shift in my direction.

We ordered drinks right next to him, deliberately positioning ourselves in eyesight of Franco. I let my fingers trail across my glass, playing with the straw, while Kika and Alexandra chatted away. The music thumped around us, and the atmosphere was thick with excitement. But still, no reaction from Franco.

Finally, I allowed myself a glance over—just a flick of my eyes—but he was still talking to his group, completely ignoring me. He seemed annoyingly relaxed, easygoing, but he wasn’t focusing on anyone in particular, not even the blonde in front of him. That was a small relief, but his lack of attention toward me stung more than I’d expected.

My stomach tightened with frustration, but I wasn’t about to give up just yet. With a subtle nod to Kika and Alexandra, we moved to the dance floor. If he wasn’t going to come to me, then I’d have to make him notice.

The music vibrated through the club, and I let myself get lost in it, dancing with my friends, feeling the beat in my bones. I moved with confidence, my body swaying to the rhythm, knowing Franco had to be watching. But every now and then, when I glanced back, he was still at the bar—no smirk, no playful look, just the occasional unreadable glance in my direction.

Minutes passed, and my frustration grew. Franco didn’t bat an eye, wasn’t chasing me like he usually did. My attempts to get his attention were falling flat, and the game I’d been so sure of was slipping away.

“I’m going to the bathroom,” I muttered to Kika, feeling a flicker of defeat rise in my chest.

Kika gave me a sympathetic look. “Take a breather. He’ll come around.”

I nodded, but I wasn’t sure I believed it. I made my way through the crowd, the thumping bass and flashing lights pressing in on me. The night wasn’t supposed to go like this. It felt like Franco was slipping out of my grasp, and the sting of that realization made my chest tighten.

As I reached the hallway leading to the bathroom, my mind raced. Had I pushed him too far? Was this it?

Just as I reached for the door, a hand wrapped gently around my wrist, pulling me back. My breath hitched, and I turned to find Franco standing close, his eyes fixed on mine with a steady intensity.

He didn’t look amused. He looked... focused.

“Going somewhere?” he asked, his voice low but full of that teasing edge I was used to.

My heart raced, my frustration still simmering beneath the surface. “I was.”

Franco didn’t let go of my wrist. Instead, he stepped closer, his other hand resting lightly on my waist. His eyes never left mine, and the heat between us was undeniable.

“You’ve been oddly close to me and my friends all night, hermosa,” he said, his voice smooth and confident. “Staring at me through the crowd.”

I blinked, thrown by his words. “What?”

Franco’s lips curved into a small, knowing smile. “You really think I didn’t notice you? I’ve been watching you since you walked in.”

My pulse quickened, but I kept my tone steady. “You had a funny way of showing it.”

Franco chuckled softly, his hand tightening slightly on my waist. “I wasn’t ignoring you. I was waiting.”

“Waiting?” I repeated, my frustration now mixed with confusion.

Franco nodded, leaning in slightly, his smirk growing. “I knew you cared. All that running around trying to get my attention tonight���it was cute, really.”

My breath caught in my throat as his words sank in. This whole time, he’d been in control. He hadn’t been ignoring me—he’d been making me chase him.

“You—” I started, but Franco cut me off with a laugh.

“I wanted to see you try a little,” he teased, his voice dripping with amusement. “I’ve been trying to get you for weeks, Y/N. Figured maybe if I pulled away, you’d realize what you were missing. And, well... it worked, didn’t it?”

My heart raced, my frustration melting into something else, something like relief. “Well, I hope you’re satisfied.”

Franco chuckled softly, his eyes darkening with a mix of amusement and something more. “Hmm... almost.”

Before I could respond, Franco closed the distance between us, his hand sliding from my waist to the small of my back, pulling me against him in one swift, confident movement. His other hand cupped my jaw, thumb grazing my skin as his lips met mine with a slow, teasing pressure. The kiss started soft, almost playful, his lips brushing over mine in deliberate, controlled movements, like he was savoring the moment. Then, without warning, the intensity surged, the kiss deepening as Franco pressed me closer, his lips firm and demanding against mine.

I felt the heat radiating from him, my pulse quickening as my fingers gripped the fabric of his shirt, twisting it tightly as I pulled him closer. His hand tightened at my waist, fingers digging in slightly as if grounding us both in the moment. His lips moved with a passionate rhythm, his kisses deeper now, bolder, his breath mixing with mine as he tilted my head just enough to angle our kiss perfectly.

My hands slid from his chest to his shoulders, fingers brushing over the firm muscles beneath his shirt as I pressed myself fully against him. Franco’s grip on my waist shifted slightly, one hand slipping to my hip, guiding me even closer. His kisses grew more urgent, his lips parting to allow just a hint of his breath to escape before he claimed my mouth again, the heat between us spiking as the kiss intensified.

I responded in kind, my heart racing as my hands slid into his hair, fingers tangling in the strands as I pulled him deeper into the kiss. Franco’s fingers curled against my waist, the firm grip of his hands sending shivers through my body as his lips captured mine again.

When we finally pulled apart, breathless and flushed, Franco’s forehead rested lightly against mine. His thumb gently traced my lower lip, his smirk widening as he held me close, his hands still possessively gripping my waist, as if even now, he wasn’t quite ready to let go.

“Took a while, but we got there,” he murmured, his voice rough with satisfaction.

My pulse was racing, my mind still spinning from the kiss. I opened my mouth to respond but found myself at a loss for words. My heart thudded in my chest, and I felt the heat rising in my cheeks.

“I—” I stammered, flustered but smiling despite myself. “Maybe... maybe I cared more than I let on.”

Franco’s grin widened, his hand sliding gently from my waist to brush a strand of hair away from my face. “See? Not so hard to admit, was it, hermosa?”

I let out a soft, nervous laugh, my eyes dropping briefly before meeting his again. “Guess not.”

Franco leaned in, his lips brushing my forehead with a light, teasing touch. “Told you—you can’t resist me.”

“Don’t let it go to your head,” I managed, but the blush in my cheeks and the way my voice wavered betrayed my attempt at being unaffected.

Franco’s grin widened as he pulled me even closer, his voice warm and full of teasing affection. “Too late,” he said softly. “But nice try.”

Without missing a beat, he wrapped me tighter in his arms, pressing a soft kiss to my forehead. After a lingering moment, he loosened his hold just enough to meet my eyes, his teasing smirk fading into something softer, more serious.

“You know I’m not letting you go now, right?” he murmured, his voice dropping with sincerity, his green eyes locking with mine in a way that made my heart skip.

I swallowed, feeling a rush of emotions I wasn’t prepared for. For weeks, I’d been pushing and pulling, testing the limits of our back-and-forth game, but this—this was different. There was no playful banter now, no teasing. Just him, holding me close, looking at me like he had been waiting for this moment all along. It made me question why I ever found joy in keeping my distance from him.

“I think I’d be okay with that,” I whispered, my smile soft and genuine.

[koiiiji]

im here for yakuza!Gun x reader smut 🤧🤧 like, you stayed at his family's mansion overnight because he introduced you to his clan for the first time and when the night came, this perv didn't care there was no soundproof system between rooms in the mansion (ofc, that's the traditional Japanese house style!!), he kept doing the deed, and even warned you to lower your voice if you didn't want anyone to hear 😏😏

ty as always bae <33

p/s: that's the idea and you can customize it however you want, just make sure that he is a meanie but soft at the same time (is it possible hm 🤔)

p/s (2): i have to send this idea right away in case you close your ask box too early lol 😂😂

author's note ; i mean Gun IS in fact yakuza, no? anyway sooo here we go! i had kinda same scenario but more rough and generally dark, like yandere, but fuck it, i think i won’t finish it anytime soon, bc i thought to add it to your request, but i don’t want to make you wait anymore. i think i was carried away a little in beginning, so its longer then expected, sorry!! 💞😮‍💨

author's note 2 ; art from pinterest, it says credits to : jongjong822 on x

tw ; f! reader, nsfw, minors, ageless/empty blogs DNI OR I WILL BLOCK YOU!!!

· ┈┈┈┈┈┈ · ꕥ · ┈┈┈┈┈┈ ·

to be honest, you had no plans to meet Yamazaki Gun's family tonight. it's not that you were against the idea — quite the opposite! you'd heard plenty about who his father was and what his family did. there were a lot of rumors swirling around town, and while you were a little wary, you were mostly curious. besides, you hadn’t been together for that long, so you didn’t expect Gun to introduce you to his family anytime soon.

when he told you earlier in the day to dress up for the evening, you weren’t surprised. it was just another night, another overly expensive restaurant, and another excuse to be in his company. as you sat in the passenger seat of Gun's sleek black car, you glanced out the window at the city passing by. the soft glow of the streetlights bathed the streets in a warm, golden hue, making everything feel a little more magical, a little more alive.

the atmosphere inside the car was just as enchanting. Gun had always been a man of few words, but tonight he seemed more at ease, more open. the quiet hum of the engine was accompanied by the faint sound of classical music playing through the car's speakers, creating a peaceful ambiance. you felt a sense of calm wash over you as you glanced at Gun, who was focused on the road ahead. his profile was illuminated by the soft light from the dashboard, casting shadows that only added to his already mysterious aura.

the restaurant was just as extravagant as you'd expected, with its towering marble pillars, crystal chandeliers, and tables draped in fine linen. evening went perfectly. you and Gun shared a bottle of wine, and as the evening wore on, you found yourself getting a little tipsy. it wasn’t enough to lose control, just enough to feel a pleasant buzz that made everything seem a little funnier, a little more relaxed. your laughter came more easily, and you found yourself leaning in closer to Gun, your hand occasionally brushing against his. he seemed to enjoy the relaxed version of you, a soft smile playing on his lips as he listened to your stories and responded with his own dry wit.

when the dinner finally came to an end, you felt a sense of contentment settle over you. the food had been exquisite, the wine even more so, and the company... well, there was no one else you'd rather be with. so you assumed that Gun would take you back to your home now, to end the night on a sweet note with a kiss or maybe something more at your doorstep. so, when he steered the car away from the familiar streets and onto an unknown road, you raised an eyebrow, but didn’t question him. the wine had left you feeling pleasantly hazy, and you were more focused on continuing your easygoing conversation than worrying about where you were headed.

“so, tell me,” you began, your words slightly slurred but still coherent, “why do you always pick these fancy places? are you still trying to impress me, Gun?”

Gun glanced at you, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “maybe i just like seeing you all dressed up,” he teased, his voice as smooth as the leather seats you were sitting on.

you laughed, leaning back in your seat and looking out at the unfamiliar road ahead. “well, it’s working. but you know, you don’t have to go all out every time. i'm just as happy with oversized t-shirt, most stupidest comedy and you.”

“noted,” he said with a small nod, though there was a hint of something more serious in his tone. “but tonight is special.”

you blinked, trying to process his words through the pleasant fog in your mind. “special? how so?”

“you'll see,” was all he said, and you let it go, too relaxed and warm from the wine to press him further. conversation flowed easily between the two of you as Gun drove. night seemed endless, the road stretching out in front of you like a promise of more to come. when the car finally slowed and turned into a long, tree-lined driveway, you began to wonder just where he had brought you. the driveway was impeccably maintained, with tall, ancient trees on either side casting long shadows under the soft glow of strategically placed lights.

Gun parked the car in front of an imposing mansion, the kind you’d only seen in movies. building was grand, with tall windows that gleamed in the moonlight and a wide set of steps leading up to the front door richly decorated with mahogany. you stared up at it, your slightly inebriated mind struggling to catch up with the reality of the situation.

“Gun… where are we?” you asked, your voice tinged with awe and a hint of nervousness. he turned off the engine and looked at you, his expression unreadable. “this is my family's home,” he said simply, as if it were the most normal thing in the world.

your heart skipped a beat. “wait… you mean… we’re meeting your family? tonight?”

he nodded, his gaze softening as he reached out to gently take your hand. “yes, tonight. i wanted you to meet them.”

panic began to bubble up in your chest, but it was quickly tempered by the warmth of his hand in yours. the wine had left you feeling too relaxed to fully grasp the gravity of the situation. Instead, you let out a soft, nervous laugh. “well, you could have given me a bit more of a warning,” you teased, squeezing his hand as you tried to keep the mood light.

“i didn’t want you to worry,” he replied, his voice steady and reassuring. “you’ll be fine. they’ll love you.”

before you could respond, Gun stepped out of the car and walked around to your side, opening the door for you. he offered you his hand, and you took it, letting him help you out of the car. as you stood there, staring up at the mansion, the reality of what was about to happen finally sank in.

you were about to meet Yamazaki Gun’s family. tonight.

you took a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves, and looked up at Gun. he was watching you with that same calm, unreadable expression, but there was a hint of something else in his eyes — something that made you feel like everything was going to be okay.

with one last squeeze of his hand, you smiled and nodded. “alright then, let's do this.”

and to be honest, everything went better than you had expected. the Yamazaki mansion was truly grand, almost overwhelming in its size and elegance. the towering shoji screens, the polished wooden floors, and the delicate tatami mats all spoke of a family with deep roots and considerable influence. people you encountered within its walls — servants, distant relatives, or perhaps close family friends — were polite, yet cold. they carried themselves with an air of reserved dignity, their words carefully chosen, their expressions unreadable.

Gun guided you through the mansion with a familiarity that showed he had once called this place home. as you walked, you couldn't help but notice how much Gun resembled his father. the elder Yamazaki was a stoic man, tall and imposing, dressed in a traditional black kimono with a hakama. he carried an aura of authority, and though his demeanor was stern, there was something in his gaze — something that hinted at a really small softness beneath his cold exterior.

Gun's mother, on the other hand, was an elegant woman, the very picture of grace and strictness, wearing a beautiful, intricately patterned kimono. her hair was pulled back in a traditional style, and her movements were precise and measured. her eyes were sharp, watching you with an intensity that made you feel as if you were being evaluated at every turn. yet, despite the coldness in her gaze, she followed every formality with exacting precision, treating you with the respect and courtesy befitting a guest in their home. she spoke little, but when she did, her words were measured and polite, though they lacked any warmth.

as the evening drew to a close, and the final course after small greeting tea ceremony was cleared away, you felt a sense of relief. it hadn’t been as daunting as you’d feared, and you were proud of how well you’d handled yourself. you expected that Gun would now take you back home, and the two of you would quietly slip away from all formalities and coldness of this house. but then Gun’s father, in his deep, commanding voice, made a suggestion that took you by surprise. “why don’t the two of you stay the night? it’s late, and it wouldn’t be wise to drive in your current state.”

you glanced at Gun, waiting for him to politely decline, but to your shock, he simply nodded. “we’ll stay.”

you blinked in surprise, a slight panic rising in your chest. you were unprepared for an overnight stay, and the idea of spending the night in Gun’s childhood home — under the same roof as his parents — was suddenly very intimidating. you opened your mouth to protest, but Gun leaned in close, his breath warm against your ear as he whispered, “don’t worry. my father asked us to stay because he wants to discuss some business matters with me in the morning. just relax.”

· ┈┈┈┈┈┈ · ꕥ · ┈┈┈┈┈┈ ·

with those words echoing in your head, you found yourself sitting on the edge of the futon, carefully prepared by the staff just a few minutes ago. the evening had been long and emotionally exhausting, but now, in the quiet of Gun’s childhood room, you felt a sense of calm begin to wash over you. after taking a shower, you had washed off the remnants of your makeup, feeling refreshed as the warm water rinsed away the day’s tension. the pleasant residue from the alcohol was still making itself felt, leaving you relaxed as you climbed into bed, where your boyfriend was already waiting for you.

Gun was lying on his back, his dark hair still damp from his own shower, his yukata loosely tied around his waist. as you slid under the covers, you immediately fell into his arms, finding comfort in the warmth of his embrace. you settled comfortably against his chest, inhaling the clean, subtle scent of his shower gel, mingled with the familiar warmth of his skin. it was a scent that was unmistakably his, grounding you in the moment as you let out a contented sigh.

for a few moments, neither of you spoke, simply enjoying the quiet intimacy of being alone together. the soft rustle of the futon as you shifted closer, the gentle rise and fall of Gun’s chest under your cheek — it all felt so peaceful, so right.

but as the silence stretched on, a small thread of anxiety began to tug at the back of your mind, and you couldn’t help but voice the question that had been lingering in your thoughts all evening. “do you think your parents liked me?”

Gun’s chest rumbled with a soft chuckle, and you felt his hand gently stroke your hair. “why do you ask? you were amazing tonight.”

“i just… i don’t know,” you murmured, feeling a little self-conscious. “your father was so serious, and your mother barely smiled. i couldn't tell what they were thinking.”

he let out another soft laugh, tilting your chin up so you could meet his eyes. “that’s just how they are. don’t take it personally. my father rarely smiles, and my mother… well, she’s always been a bit strict. but trust me, you made a good impression.”

you felt a wave of relief at his words, but you couldn’t resist teasing him a little: rolling onto your stomach, you now lay on top of him, folding your arms across his chest and resting your chin on them, you playfully asked "are you sure they're not just being polite to me?"

flicking your nose with his finger, he just laughed in response, the sound deep and genuine, and you couldn’t help but join in, the last remnants of your nerves melting away in the warmth of his laughter. but as your soft giggles subsided, the mood shifted, the lightheartedness giving way to something more intense. Gun’s eyes darkened - more, if it was even possible - as he looked at you, his playful expression fading into one of pure desire. without warning, he moved, his hands gripping your waist as he flipped you onto your back. you let out a surprised gasp, your heart skipping a beat as he loomed over you, his body pressing you into the futon. the sudden shift in his demeanor left you breathless, a thrill of anticipation coursing through you as his face hovered inches from yours.

“Gun…” you whispered, your voice barely audible as he lowered his head, his lips brushing against your neck.

“mmm?” he hummed in response, his breath hot against your skin as he began to trail kisses along the curve of your throat. his hands moved with a deliberate slowness, slipping beneath the folds of your yukata to find the smooth skin of your back. you shivered at his touch, your body responding to the gentle caress of his fingers as they traced a path up and down your spine. his kisses grew more urgent, more passionate, as if he couldn’t get enough of you. he buried his face in the crook of your neck, his lips moving hungrily against your skin as his hands roamed freely over your body. the fabric of your yukata shifted as he explored, his touch sending sparks of pleasure racing through your veins.

“Gun,” you gasped again, your fingers tangling in his raven hair as you arched into him, craving more of the sensation he was drawing from you. his hands were everywhere, gliding over the curve of your back, sliding down to cup your ass cheeks before moving up again, each touch sending shivers of pleasure rippling through you.

he pulled back slightly, his breath coming in shallow pants as he gazed down at you — your hair, disheveled and slightly damp from the shower, was scattered across the pillows, your breathing was a little ragged and the fabric of your yukata, pulled to the side, opened up a beautiful view of your chest, which was slightly heaving from confusion, your cheeks were burning with excitement and still a small amount of embarrassment, while due to the alcohol you barely remembered where you both were.

with a quiet growl, Gun again clung to your collarbones, his hands moved faster, skillfully, undoing the ties of your robe with practiced ease to pull the unnecessary fabric lower. without moving away from you even for a centimeter, he caressed your neck with his lips, moved up a little higher, biting the lobe of your ear and descending in a wet path lower, again to the collarbones, this time not lingering there, but going lower to your chest, clasping it with one hand and kneading it in his large, calloused palm. with each of his movements, you moved towards him more and more, forgetting yourself and melting in his arms, moaning from his each touch.

as he skillfully make the fabric fell away, leaving you exposed beneath him, he groaned softly, his eyes drinking in the sight of you.

“you are so beautiful” he murmured, his voice filled with reverence as he leaned down to capture your lips in a searing kiss. your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer as you melted into the kiss, losing yourself in the sensation of his mouth on yours, his hands on your body. right now there was only Gun, his touch, his warmth, the overwhelming passion that consumed you both.

“please” you whispered into his lips as he rose above you on his elbows again. one of his hands had already slid below your tummy, stroking your pussy with his entire palm, only fleetingly touching the sensitive bundle of nerves, pulling the first loud moan out of you.

“come on kitten, be quiet, you remember where we are” Gun's hot whisper enveloped your ear as his fingers continued to play with your wet pussy. “you know, this is a traditional old style house, the walls here are extremely thin” your boyfriend continued to whisper in your ear, enjoying your once again confused look as your cheeks flushed with renewed vigor. “you don't want anyone to hear us, do you, baby?” now one of his fingers slid up and down between your lips, smearing the moisture oozing out of you all over the entrance. he was lying on his side next to you, one of his hands reached under your neck as he place one finger in your mouth, making you suck and lick it with your tongue, while his other hand never left your pussy, now more insistently stroking and massaging your clit with one finger, while the other played with your tight entrance, pushing finger in just halfway.

time seemed to stand still as you surrendered to him, your body responding to his every caress and touch, every kiss, every whisper. the intensity of the moment, the way he made you feel cherished, desired, loved—it was all-encompassing, leaving you breathless and yearning for more.

and that's when you reached your first peak from his fingers caressing you deep inside, when your hot and wet walls tightened around him, and you could no longer stifle your moans with his fingers behind your cheek, only then Gun smiled insidiously, and with one light movement turned your softened body back onto your stomach. without wasting a second, his hands dug into the soft skin of your sides, right where he could feel the pelvic bones, and with your clouded brain you already assumed that there would be traces there in the morning. reaching for a pillow, and pushing it between your thighs and the futon, Gun hurriedly, casually stroked your pussy, passing from bottom to top, collecting all the juices of your previous orgasm, simultaneously stroking his cock, smearing mix of your saliva and his own spit along the entire length.

whimpering softly and burying your head in the pillow, in an attempt to stifle your moans, you gasped, clutching at the edges of the futon and the blanket under you, as the fat tip of his dick slowly squeezed into your tensed, gummy folds, painfully stretching you. a deep and heavy moan was heard from behind when Gun collapsed on top of you with all his weight, completely plunging his fat dick into your bosom, in one sharp movement, immediately hitting the g-spot, forcing you to arch your back, pressing your ass harder into his hips. with a satisfied purr, Gun covered your hands with his own, fastening them together into a lock, again leaning closer to you with his all body, pressing you into the thin mattress, he began to slowly move inside your warmth.

with each strong thrust, as he picked up speed, with each of his heavy breaths into your neck, it became harder for you to hold your ass higher, as well as your moans, almost drowned out by the pillow. over and over, as Gun's thick cock filled your gummy, warm walls completely, your eyelids grew heavy and your head fell back, right on his shoulder, as your jaw dropped, allowing sweet moans and whimpers to escape from your throat.

“kitten still wants the whole house to hear her, mm?” your boyfriend purrs breathlessly in your ear, mercilessly hammering into your poor pussy, forcing you to give up, and fall on the bed with your whole body, and only moan piteously when one of his arms wraps around your neck and closes your mouth, and the other one gets tangled in your hair, pulling it back just a little.

you never doubted that in the matter of bed, Gun always was a bit more wild and animalistic, but the way his hips slammed into you now, how heavy balls were beating against your clit, and the dirty sounds of squelching and slapping skin against skin, how his biceps tensed right where your cheek lay, all this made your eyes roll up to the back of your head and just whine pathetically under him and drool on his muscles.

you didn't even have the strength left, to hold still, all that helped him mercilessly hammer you into the mattress was the pillow under your hips while you lay under him and helplessly muttering incoherent words and praises. both intoxicated by the euphoria of sex, emotions and feelings, the two of you have lost your sense of time and space, just chasing your own peak and pleasure. to be honest, you didn't think much when your pussy covered Gun's twitching dick with cream, when he hitted his pink head right to the cervix, forcing you to scream and arch towards him, pressing your ass into his hips, and feel with your shoulder blades as his chest pressing you into bed.

and to be completely honest, you almost didn't remember how you both cum, the most important thing that was in front of your eyes was Gun's chest and his warm hand gently caressing your back, while he murmured something into your hair, when he covered you both with a blanket and you fell into a sweet sleep.

· ┈┈┈┈┈┈ · ꕥ · ┈┈┈┈┈┈ ·

BONUS ;

the morning sunlight filtered softly through the shoji screens, casting a gentle glow over the room. you blinked awake, feeling the warmth of the futon and the lingering scent of Gun beside you. but as you turned over, reaching out to pull him closer, you found his side of the bed empty and cold. confusion washed over you as you sat up, realizing he was gone.

events of the night before came rushing back, and a deep blush crept over your cheeks. you buried your face in your hands, mortified at the thought of facing anyone after what had happened. Gun's parents, the staff — how could you possibly look them in the eye now? the thought of leaving the room made your heart race with anxiety, so you resolved to stay put, hoping to avoid any awkward encounters. minutes ticked by, each one stretching out into what felt like an eternity. you had no idea where Gun had gone or when he'd be back, leaving you in an uncomfortable solitude.

and just as you were about to retreat further under the covers, there was a soft knock at the door. your heart skipped a beat, dread pooling in your stomach. before you could respond, the door slid open, and Gun’s mother stepped inside.

she was impeccably dressed, her expression calm and composed. you immediately lowered your gaze, unable to meet her eyes, but she approached with a certain grace, her footsteps barely making a sound on the tatami mats.

“good morning,” she greeted you, her voice steady.

“m-mrs. Yamazaki,” you stammered, still unable to look up. “i-i’m sorry, i didn’t mean to-”

“stop,” she interrupted, her tone firm but not unkind. “you have nothing to be sorry of. it’s natural.”

you finally dared to glance up at her, confusion flickering in your eyes. she took a seat beside you on the futon, her movements deliberate and serene. “you’re a woman, and you’re desired and loved. there’s nothing shameful about that. that’s just the nature of men — wild and unbridled when a woman is around. i was in your place once, and someday, you’ll be in mine.”

you blinked, taken aback by her words. was that… a blessing?

“wait,” you began hesitantly, “so… you heard everything?”

mrs. Yamazaki let out a soft sigh, a hint of amusement flickering in her eyes. “i’m not an idiot. from beginning i saw the way my son looks at you. and i know Yuzuru well enough, and what’s going on in his head, to prepare your bedroom far away from our own.”

your cheeks burned hotter, the mortification almost unbearable. “so… you didn’t hear?”

she paused, a knowing smile tugging at the corner of her lips. “let’s say the whole mansion didn’t hear you… but maybe some part of it did.”

you swore you caught a fleeting, light, and kind laugh in her voice, and for a moment, the tension between you eased. there was a warmth in her tone that you hadn’t expected, something almost motherly and understanding.

“i...” you trailed off, still unsure of what to say.

mrs. Yamazaki reached out, gently placing a hand on your shoulder. “you are welcome here, as long as you make my son happy. and believe me, i haven't seen him this happy in a very long time.”

her words soothed some of the anxiety gnawing at you, and you managed a small, grateful smile. “thank you.”

she nodded, standing up gracefully. “now, come along. breakfast is ready.” as she turned to leave, you felt a sense of relief, the earlier embarrassment slowly fading.

· ┈┈┈┈┈┈ · ꕥ · ┈┈┈┈┈┈ ·

author's note 3 ; I FOUGHT INNER DEMONS TO FINISH IT I SWEAR!! SORRY THAT SPICY PART WASN’T THAT JUICY AND STUFF, I STILL NEED TO LEARN HOW TO WRITE PORN…HOPE U GUYS LIKE IT😤😤🫶🏻

[fuctacles]

wereshifter au pt 3, but things get dumber

<<2 | 3 | 4>>

Eddie avoids the park on the next day, doesn't leave the house much at all, really, but he runs into the dog on his way out of a supermarket. He smiles involuntarily, reaching out to pet him.

"Hi, bud," he greets it, and they start the walk back to his van. But before he opens the passenger door to put the groceries there and let the dog hop in, he freezes. He looks down at his furry friend, staring at him so eagerly and with so much trust, and his heart breaks. But nevertheless, he drops his hand away from the door handle, and takes a step back. 

"Listen, man," he says, then sighs before dropping to his knees to address the dog properly and look a little bit less insane while doing it. "This is stupid," he murmurs to himself, before continuing. "I can't take you with me, okay? No more house visits. I'd love to play with you at the park, or something, but you can't come with me anymore." The dog's ears drop, like he can understand everything. Eddie continues. "Turns out, one of my friends is allergic to dog fur, so I can't have you over." He reaches out, hoping the ear scratches will be enough consolation. "I know you have a family somewhere, you should go to them."

The dog huffs almost angrily at that, but seems too happy with Eddie's petting to leave. So he indulges them both with some more scratches before he stands up, hoisting the grocery bag along with him.

"See you around?" he asks, rounding the car towards the driver seat. His dog friend follows, but sits on the sidewalk to watch him enter the van. Eddie can almost sense the betrayal behind his stare. "I know, buddy, I'm sad too," he says, closing the door. They stare at each other for another second before Eddie turns on the engine and peels off. 

After a week, he starts missing his little trips to the park, so he substitutes with reading a book on the porch. His free hand itches to scratch behind furry ears, so he gets some peanuts to keep it occupied instead. 

He hangs out with the boys like he always does, and he spots the kids on his way there, playing with his dog friend. When he hops over to say hi, it stops in it tracks, eyeing him warily. Eddie is lowkey afraid of losing a finger but approaches the dog anyway to give him a friendly (but not overly so) scratch.

"Hi, bud. Having fun?" he asks, and the dog presses more into his hand. "Okay, okay," he chuckles, giving into the silent ask for pets. When he looks up, everyone's looking at them weirdly.

Yes, Eddie Munson likes dogs, fuck off. 

He rolls his eyes and straightens up. 

"Everyone good for Hellfire on Friday?"

Looks like he's found new friends already, and Eddie doesn't have to worry. 

"Hello?" 

"Steve! Hi!" Eddie perks up to the voice in his receiver. It feels like years since the last time he's heard Steve. "I've scrubbed the place, and myself, clean, and washed all my clothes twice."

He hears his friend snort on the other line.

"Congrats?" Steve offers, and Eddie can feel a dry smile pulling on his lips. 

"Har, har, Harrington, I'm talking about your allergy. It should be safe to come over if you're still interested. Or, I could just..." He leans heavily on the wall, picking at his cuticles while he offers the less favorable option. "Home deliver you a few joints."

Sure, it would be nice to have a guy friend his age who went through the same horrors as him. But if said guy didn't feel the same, keeping a casual connection would be enough for Eddie. Maybe Steve had enough apocalypse-fighting friends of his own and didn't need one more, a loser super-super-senior trailer trash, too. 

"No, dude, it's alright. I've just been busy, and kinda not feeling like myself, you know?"

Eddie wants to scream. He does know. Who else would know better, who else had his flesh eaten by demonic bats from a hell dimension?

"Uh-huh," is all he offers, though. He feels weirdly similar to that time in middle school when Cindy McGee said she didn't want to dance with him. 

"I guess I just need some space?" Steve said uncertainly. "You're still invited to the end of summer pool party, of course."

Well, good to know that he could come to the party they've all promised each other as soon as both the Vecna thing and school year were over. 

"Yeah, cool, quick question though." Eddie licks his lips, his anger rising. He bumps away from the wall, ready to strike and throw the phone down. "And be honest with me, because I hate liars. Are you avoiding me?"

There's silence on the other side.

"Eddie..."

"Steve," Eddie interrupts him. "I don't want bullshit. I want to know if I should fuck off. It will suck but I will take it. Just say you don't want to hang out with me. That's fine. Not the first or the last time it happened."

Steve sighs on the other end of the line.

"I do want to hang out," he says. "But I have a lot to think about and I need some space. Is that okay?"

Eddie is close to folding down, but not close enough not to add: 

"Do you need space from everyone or just me?"

"Honestly? Everyone. But especially you."

That was such a stupid fucking answer Eddie had to bite his knuckle not to growl in frustration. 

"Okay," he spat out, proud of himself for not yeling. "Don't tell me. Reach out whenever you feel ready." He's less proud of how he slams the phone on the cradles. He feels like shit as he looks at the machine for any damage he might have caused. 

He has his answers, Steve confirmed he doesn't want to see him, and he told his dog off too. So aside from the younger members of the Party, he had only Nancy and Jonathan to talk to. Argyle too, if he was still in town. Robin was out of the question, because she would babble everything back to Steve immediately. And he wasn't ready to talk to parental figures like Joyce or Hopper yet.

Eddie takes a few calming breaths and dials another number from his list. 

"Hello?"

"Hi, it's Eddie."

"Eddie!" Dustin's voice cheers up immediately and helps him brighten up as well. "What's up, how are you doing?"

"Eh, I'm managing." He shrugs. "Hey, do you think Steve is avoiding me?" he asks straight to the point. 

Dustin groans. 

"Yes!" he answers and Eddie's stomach sinks. "But he's been avoiding the rest of us too. And he's been weird for weeks now. But I promised I wouldn't tell anything." There's a frustrated groan on the other end followed by thuds, like someone was punching or kicking something close to the phone. "You have to ask him yourself. But I will grill him, and try coaxing it out of him. Give me a moment."

"No, Dustin-!" Eddie didn't want to make the situation ever more tense than it already was, but Dustin was already off with his own plan. He realizes far too late that he might not have been the best person to call. 

He has half a mind to call Steve again with a warning but he doesn't want to worsen his position even further. It will be bad enough when he finds out Eddie sent Dustin after him. Maybe the best course of action is to let it play out with minimal input and whatever happens, happens. In the worst-case scenario, he still has his Corroded Coffin guys.

Eventually, he holes himself up in his room, waiting for the storm to pass. 

see, and i forgot to tag, just like I said I would. Anyway: @noodle-shenaniganery @jaytriesstrangerthings @imaginary-maggie-waggie

[supernaturalistthings]

Earlier

Dean Winchester x Female!Reader

Summary: Dean flirts with another girl to make you jealous.

Warnings: +18 contains smut

You watch from across the bar as Dean shamelessly flirts with the bartender before him. She’s loving it and leaning into every word he says. Your hold on your short glass tightens as Sam mindlessly sips his beer while seated at the table with you. He looks over to you and does a double take then follows your eyes and sighs

“Okay, this is torture” Sam says while tapping his hands on the table

“What?” you snap your head in his direction questioningly

“This..” he gestures his hands at you and Dean, frustrated with the situation before you both. He continues “He's doing this to make you jealous, you know?”

“What?” you say again without taking your eyes off Dean

“He devised this whole plan i wasnt supposed to tell you about …to get your attention… but this is just torture”

“You're lying… trying to be nice” you say, sneaking a quick glance at the younger Winchester trying to get a sense of his sincerity. Ultimately your attention gets laser focused back on the “happy couple”

“I'm not, I swear” he says laughing, putting his hands up in surrender. Truthfully it sounds exactly like something Dean would do, but what was in front of your eyes clouds all sense of rationale or logic. “You know i've always rooted for you guys” he continues

“There's no “you guys”, there’s absolutely nothing between us” you say with an eye roll as you start gathering your jacket and bag from the back of the chair.

“You’re right, this is torture. i’m turning in have a good night sam” he shakes his head and waves you off as you start making your way through the crowded bar. You look back only once at Dean and the bartender and find them in the same exact form they had been previously. She could care less about the aggravated bar patrons looking for drinks and refills, she only wants Dean. He looks over just in time to catch your gaze and his smile falters. You snap your eyes back towards the exit but he continues to watch as you make your way through the bar when the next thing he sees is the exit door closing behind you. He abruptly ends the conversation with the overly flirty bartender and scans the bar looking for his brother. He finally finds Sam who is already waving to get his attention and makes his way over drink in hand.

“You struck out?” Sam says pointing in the direction dean just came from

“I'm not interested” Dean retorts, setting his drink on the table “Where’d she go?” he continues

“Ah you mean the real reason you didn’t take that bartender back to the room? She got sick of your show and went back to the motel” Sam replies, taking a swig of his beer.

Dean's eyes fall to the drink in his hand while contemplating whether or not this will be the night. The night he rushes to your side and confesses how he really feels, how he has felt for a while now. How you’re the only one who can bring him to knees and lift him up at the same time. How he can’t actually be with anyone else without being utterly consumed by the thought of you. All of a sudden The music in this bar seems too loud, too many people are way too drunk, nothing good is on any of the TVs. All of a sudden it seems to be too much for Dean and he realizes this is the night, he can’t take this anymore. He’s yours and he wants you to know it, to give him the chance to have you too.

He says nothing and simply smiles, grabs Sam's shoulder, and laughs and disbelief at what he was about to do. He stands and starts hastily making his way towards the exit and to his car. The engine roars to life and he peels out of the parking lot and starts the short drive to the motel. The rundown and very reasonably priced place enters his vision and he finds a parking spot nearest your room.

He throws open his car door and nearly runs to your room to knock repeatedly, until you answer. You slightly open the door and make eye contact with a smiling and breathless Dean. You immediately groan and go to shut the door in one swift motion, he jams his boot between the door and its frame preventing you from shutting him out.

“Well hello to you too” he says still breathless and with a smile as he shoves himself through the opening and past you so he’s safely in the room and it’s not likely you could force him out

You sigh and shut the door behind you, latching it, and then turn to face the man you had fallen for. Who had no idea. The man you were trying your hardest to stay annoyed at. You cross your arms over your chest and plainly ask

“What are you doing here Dean? You looked plenty occupied last time i saw you”

“I was trying to get under your skin..” he retorts

“Well congratulations Dean. you succeeded. You can get back to whatever or whoever you were doi-“

“Will you stop talking and listen to me? i’m not going anywhere until you do” he interjects leaving you agape. His bluntness has always stirred something inside you. It makes you shift on your feet. You’re nervous for what he’s about to say but still give him a look that grants him permission to continue.

“I've cared about you for a long time…” he says, taking a few steps forward until you're face to face. He continues, “and I'm tired of pretending that I don't… I'm tired of pretending like your laugh isn't my favorite sound, like i don't want to run my hands through your hair everytime you look at me, like you talking to other guys doesnt send me into a damn spiral… and most of all i'm tired of pretending that i want anyone other than you��

You're in shock and silence fills the room. Your arms are now uncrossed and the intense eye contact that's happening right now is making you feel like you could pass out. You don't know if you've ever seen his eyes look this green. You try to muster any of the million thoughts that are racing through your head but the shock has completely taken over your ability to actually speak them. All you can say is

“But earlier..”

“I was just trying to get your attention…” he brushes some hair out of your face, and gathers your face in both hands. He holds you in that moment like you might break. He looks desperately into your eyes for some sort of answer, some future. “I'm sorry..” he continues while leaning in even further so his lips feel like a whisper against yours. All of a sudden you could care less about earlier and can only think of what his lips would feel like moving against yours. You slowly bring your arms up and wrap them around his neck. You're looking deeply into his eyes while he scans your face for any signs of doubt. There isn't any.

You both lean in and seal your lips together. Your mouths move slowly and hesitantly, wanting to savor every second. It feels like you're both breathing for the first time in years, it comes easy to you both, natural even. He pulls back slowly and almost painfully as his eyes flutter open and meet yours.

“I've waited so long..” you say while keeping his gaze. He softly smiles and readjusts his hands on the sides of your face before sealing your lips once again, but this time it's different. This kiss is passionate, possessive even. You're his and he's yours, and he wants you to know that without a doubt. Every single second with his lips on yours reinforces that. His hands travel down to the sides of your waist and he pulls you flush against him. Your hands trail to his broad chest and every touch from him is electrifying your body. You desperately need to feel him, all of him. But you can't help but to think

“Are we moving too fast?...” you say breathlessly between kisses

“Probably…” he whispers back into the kiss “should we stop?” he continues still without breaking the kiss

You pull back in shock and look at him with a smile “absolutely not” His lips turn into a jackpot grin of his own and you both collide again.

HIs hands tighten on your waist and he effortlessly pulls you up to wrap your legs around him. His hands move over your rear to the back of your thighs and without breaking the kiss he walks you over to the bed. He leans himself forward and lays you gently on the bed. He steadies himself over you and says “I've waited for this for so long too” while looking deeply and passionately into your eyes.

You can't help but roll the both of you over so you're straddling him beneath you. You take the sides of his face into your hands and say “You have no idea” before taking your top off over your head, you swear you could have seen literal hearts in his eyes from the way he was looking at you. He relishes this moment and runs his hands up your half naked torso until he reaches the bra clasp on your back. He expertly undoes it and slides your bra off your shoulders he runs his hands over your now bare breasts and starts breathing heavier at the touch. “Even damn better than I'd imagined.”

He leans himself forward and puts a hand on the back of your neck to reconnect your kiss. It only breaks for a second while you pull his shirt over his head. It joins yours on the floor and your hands move down his toned chest to the button on his jeans. At the friction of pulling his zipper down he takes your bottom lip in between his teeth and pulls possessively. Its taking everything within himself to restrain himself from taking you and fucking you dirty. He wants this to be perfect, he never wants you to think about another man but him ever again.

He flips the both of you so once again you’re beneath him and he gazes down at you like you're the only woman on earth. Like you’re a dream that's about to come true. He starts slowly taking your pants off and your panties with them and as soon as he gets them past your ankles he throws them to join the rest of your clothes on the ground. He's staring again but this time you are completely bared in front of him, he can't help himself really. You're way more beautiful than any dream he's had. He stays there for a second and you don't know whether to feel self conscious or not, he notices and softly grabs your thighs.

“You're so beautiful…”. You smile in return and lace your fingers through his. Your hands fit perfectly together. You pull him down onto you and whisper against his lips

“You know this is starting to feel a little unfair” you say as you flick your eyes down to his jeans and then back up to those beautiful green eyes. He smiles brightly and kisses you while bringing one hand to push his jeans and boxers down while you help them the rest of the way down and he kicks them off. Your lips reconnect and you're both smiling into the kiss.

Your hands are all over each other's bodies and you're moving yours down to where he wants you most. He's already fully hard and is shaking at any form of contact. He's big, bigger than you've ever had and this only pools the wetness between your thighs. The room is filled with both of your moans and praises. You're pumping him steadily and he's loving every second. His breathing is starting to get labored when he says

“If i'm not inside you soon this is going to get really embarrassing, really quickly…” It comes out as a whisper against the nape of your neck. You throw your head back in laughter. You can see his cheeks flush as he smiles sheepishly. You kiss him once again and help him align himself with your entrance. He thrusts deeply and it has you gasping into his mouth and clawing at his shoulders. He buries his head into your shoulder and breathes deeply to steady himself.

“Fuck this feels so good” he groans out. He starts moving slowly, all the way out and all the way in. This lasts for a few minutes until he begins fucking you feverishly. He's absolutely ravishing you. It feels euphoric and you can't stop screaming his name while he kisses your neck. You wrap your legs tightly around him and he starts thrusting deeper and harder if that's even possible. He's looking directly into your eyes and moaning over your lips. His hand is running all along your thigh.

“Are you close?” he grunts out

All you can manage is a enthusiastic nod and a string of reassuring moans and pants. You’re hanging onto his shoulders for dear life when you finally feel him spilling out of you which is enough to send you over the edge. You cum hard and fast around him, your walls tightening around his long member.

He kisses you quickly and then pulls back and says

“How could you think I would ever want anyone else other than you?” You both smile simultaneously at his words and you lean up to place a loving kiss on his lips. A kiss that held years of unspoken words and missed conversations and Dean feels it, every syllable.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

The Machinist 1

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such as possible bullying, misogyny, noncon/dubcon, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: your new boss sets his sights on you. (short!reader)

Characters: August Walker

Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself💜

Your forehead pinches and your eyes singe. Your brows dip as you focus on your tasks, your hands firm on the small cylinder as you smooth the edge. Your work is tedious and precise, but you work off muscle memory. It all comes naturally. 

You lean in as you finish off the small piece, slowly pulling it away from the spinning wheel. You hit the stop and admire your handiwork briefly and label it before putting the piece aside in its coordinated container. You keep your space as tidy as you can, as organized as possible to avoid anything missing or overlooked. 

You lean on the tall stool you never use; it’s too high and this job isn’t really made for sitting. You take off your safety glasses and pull the bandana down from over your hairline to sop up your sweat. Your shoulders are tight and sore and your lower back tugs from your half-bent posture. 

You fix your bandana and near the work table again. Your old station was too high and now this one somehow is too low. It’s like a cruel trick. 

You pull the next blueprint up on the screen, clacking on the keys to zoom. It’s simple. You’re sent the schematics and you make whatever’s needed. It is a less than exciting job but it pays the bills. 

As you put your materials out in front of you and ready the borer, the noise of the factory forms a calamitous wall around you. You’ve learned to tune it out, you hardly notice when Bill swears at his lathe or Joe and Sakir argue over one thing or another. You keep to your work. You keep to yourself. 

Before you can start your next job, you sense a shift in the air. Voices quiet, machines slow and some stop. You peer over but can’t see much from your vantage in the corner. You claimed the station even though the air flow is crap. You prefer that you’re not center among the chaos. 

You begin by shaping the steel into a flat circle, then bore a hole in the middle. You’re going to have to be careful with how thin the sheet is but any thicker and it will impinge the hinge in the blueprint. You’ll have to make that too. 

The odd lull seems to flow across the factory floor like a tide. You peer up only as the air seems to stagnate. You see a man approaching. You don’t recognise him but he’s not very much different than most men you work with; ball cap, plaid shirt, that overly macho stance. 

Unlike most factory men, he isn’t built like a noodle or with an extra pouch around his middle. He’s tall and lumbering and his shoulders broad. Across his upper lip, he sports a dark mustache, and his blue are somehow bright and dark at once. 

“Hello,” he approaches as his bold tone rolls like thunder, “machinist?” 

Your brows knot together curiously as you shut off the borer and set aside the parts. You turn to him completely, “yes.” 

“Ah,” he reaches into the bin and takes out the cylinder you just finished, “fine work. Detailed. The labeling is clever.” 

You’re wary. You’re used to the men talking down to you. It’s not that unusual but something about him is loftier than you’re used too. 

“Engineer?” You wonder. He has to be. Their degrees seem to overload their egos in a certain kind of way. 

“Supervisor,” he puts the part back in the green container, “first day. Did you not receive the notice?” 

“I did,” you assure him. You read the notice on the lunchroom wall but it didn’t matter much to you. He isn’t the first replacement to pass through the position, especially since the buyout. 

“August Walker,” he offers his large hand. 

You eye it and reach with your glove, mindless of the darkened fabric, and dully recite your name. He squeezes, in the way that men do, trying to prove their strength. You simply allow him his little display before rescinding your hand. 

“How long have you worked here?” He asks. 

You look around. You notice Bill watching and a few others trying to act like they aren’t. You know what they’re thinking. If fat needs to be trimmed, naturally it should be the girl. 

“Three years,” you answer. 

“Really? Work like this, I’d have guessed longer,” he muses, “by looking at you, though, I might have guessed you just started.” 

“Mm,” you grumble and turn back to your parts. 

“Compliment,” he says bluntly. 

“Right,” you utter. “Got work orders.” 

“So, you do,” he agrees, “but I’m your boss.” 

You hesitate and pull your hands back from the table. You face him again as he stands on the other side of the table’s arm. You step up to your side and look up at him. 

“Is there something I missed? A task I should focus on first, sir?” You ask. 

He snorts and one side of his mouth lifts up in amusement, “not much for water cooler talk, huh?” 

“With due respect, I’m on the clock.” 

"Due respect," he echoes.

His eyes flick up and down and you withhold your discomfort. It isn’t unusual. Your coworkers are more often in miserable marriages or eternally single. They all can’t help but ogle you now and again, even if you dress exactly like them. Nothing special. Not the girls at the bar or the wives they once loved. 

“Well then, maybe I’ll run into in the lunchroom and you can tell me all about yourself,” he plants his hands on the table and leans over just slightly, “I’m dying to know how someone like you ended up in a place like this.” 

You tweak a brow and cross your arms. Right. He’s one of those. Just like the rest of them. This isn’t your place, you’re an intruder. 

“I mean, why would you come here and sweat over all this dirty work when you could be put up in a kitchen, huh?” He wonders with a smirk, “but I’ve seen the men around here, none of them got the guts to put you where you belong.” 

Your chest rises and falls as a swell of anger comes over you. You know the best way to react is not to. So, you don’t. 

“Sir, I’m right at home right here,” you assure him and turn back to your station. 

You ignore him as you adjust your glasses and adjust a setting on the lather. What you wouldn’t do to put his face to the grinder. He isn’t worth the damage his thick skull would do to the wheel. 

[its-avalon-08]

Hi!!!!! Can I request Kimi Raikkonen x mexican reader? Something fluffy, Checo being the third wheel, and the line "excuse me, she asked for no pickles"

mi vida (kr7)

you fumbled with the clasp of the tiny silver hummingbird earrings, frustration wrinkling your brow. "ugh, these things are tiny!"

a gentle hand brushed past your shoulder, cool against your heated skin. kimi, ever the silent hero, materialized beside you, the earrings nestled between his thumb and forefinger.

"here," he murmured, his voice low like the rumble of an engine idling.

he slipped the earrings in with practiced ease, his touch sending a jolt through you. you met his gaze in the mirror, his blue eyes swimming with a warmth you rarely saw.

"thank you, mi vida," you said impulsively, as you adjusted your hair.

the endearment hung in the air, a sweet surprise. kimi's cheeks, usually stoic, flushed a brilliant scarlet. he mumbled something inaudible and then, to your surprise, buried his face in the crook of your neck.

you giggled, the sound tinkling like wind chimes. "kimi?" you teased, unable to resist.

he mumbled something about being "too old for this sweetness" that only made you laugh harder. you wrapped your arms around his waist, reveling in the unexpected display of shyness. "you can't say such cute things to me, i have a iceman image to keep up" he mumbled.

"you're adorable," you whispered, feeling his heart beat a steady rhythm against your cheek.

he finally lifted his head, a sheepish grin on his face. "just making sure you're all set for our date," he said, his voice gruff but his eyes sparkling.

"ready as I'll ever be," you replied, leaning up to peck him on the cheek. "thank you for everything, kimi."

his smile was genuine this time, the blush fading but the warmth in his eyes remaining. "let's go see if checo survived setting reservations."

the night stretched before you, promising laughter, good food, and maybe, just maybe, a stolen kiss or two under the twinkling city lights.

you bounced into the restaurant booth, a flurry of sunshine and laughter, practically collapsing onto the plush seat next to kimi. checo, ever the charmer, held your chair out with a wink.

"such a lady," he teased, his grin catching as kimi's lips curved into a faint smile. you swatted checo's arm playfully, the butterflies in your stomach erupting into a full-fledged swarm whenever kimi's amusement was directed at you.

the three of you had been inseparable since the monaco grand prix. checo, always the life of the party, had taken it upon himself to be your personal wingman, navigating the often-daunting world of f1 for you. it was through him that you met kimi, the enigmatic iceman who surprised everyone, including himself, by completely falling for your bubbly personality.

the menu arrived, and you scanned it with wide eyes. "ooh, the enchiladas verdes sound amazing! could i have it without pickles please?"

the waiter, a young man with an overly enthusiastic smile, scribbled down your order. "enchiladas verdes, coming right up!"

as it arrived, your eyes spotted pickles and frowned. due to your intense people pleasing attitude towards wait staff, you stayed silent.

"actually," kimi's voice, a low rumble that sent shivers down your spine, cut through the air. "she'd like it without pickles."

you flushed, a silent apology forming on your lips. you hated being a bother, and correcting the order felt like a monumental task. kimi must have noticed the flicker of worry in your eyes because he reached for your hand, his touch sending a spark through you.

"no worries, sweetheart," he murmured, his voice barely audible. "i got it."

the waiter blinked, surprised by the interruption but quickly amending your order. "certainly, sir. enchiladas verdes, no pickles."

as the waiter disappeared, checo nudged kimi with his elbow, a playful glint in his eyes. "smooth move, iceman. you're getting good at this whole boyfriend thing."

kimi grunted, a hint of a smirk playing on his lips. he squeezed your hand gently. "just looking after my girl."

the enchiladas arrived, a vibrant green masterpiece that looked far too good to eat (almost). you took a tentative bite, your eyes widening in delight. "these are incredible!"

the rest of the meal was filled with laughter and conversation. checo, ever the entertainer, regaled you with stories from the paddock, his impersonations of the other drivers leaving you in stitches. kimi listened patiently, occasionally adding a dry comment that sent you both into fresh fits of laughter.

as you stepped out of the restaurant, the warm bengaluru night air enveloping you, you turned to kimi, your heart overflowing with gratitude. "thank you for earlier," you whispered, squeezing his hand.

he stopped, his gaze holding yours. "anything for you," he replied, his voice husky. he leaned in, and under the soft glow of the streetlights, brushed his lips against yours in a kiss that was as sweet and unexpected as the sunshine after a sudden downpour.

in the distance, you heard checo whistle, a low, appreciative sound. "alright, alright, you two lovebirds! let's get some gelato. my treat, for surviving kimi's terrible flirting skills."

you laughed, the sound echoing through the night, a melody of pure joy. with kimi by your side, and a mischievous checo in tow, the night stretched before you, full of laughter, stolen kisses, and the promise of something wonderful

[laneywrld]

call out my name | Lewis Hamilton

request: heyy, can we get a story with call out my name by the weeknd as the base line of the story .

word count: 3.6k

warnings: none

When you first met Lewis, you had a feeling it'd end like this.

If you could go back and change that night, you would, with no hesitation. You missed the days when Lewis was a nonfactor in your life when you didn't know he existed.

You remember that night all too well. Miami was always alive when the Grand Prix came around, your friends, like the partygoers they were enjoyed taking the opportunity to take on the vibrant nightlife and enjoy the crowds the race brought in.

It was an annual tradition, you could say, to party like tomorrow didn't exist when the lights shut down and engines roared to life.

When you first moved to Miami, you hadn't understood the essence of the sport or the crowds it brought in, until you met an overly enthusiastic Daniel Ricciardo.

You had no clue who he was when he quite literally stumbled into your path; his boyish smile and golden retriever energy made it almost impossible to be mad at him as his drink soaked your dress.

"I'm so sorry!" He calls out, stumbling over himself.

"You're not from here?" You called out as you reached down to help him stand up straight. His thick accent was a dead giveaway.

"No, I'm Australian."

"Long way from home," you shouted over the music, dragging his frame into an open seat further away from the dance floor.

"I'm working." He slurs, smiling up at you.

"Mhmm, doesn't look like you're working," you trail off, "what's your name?"

"Danny. After work fun."

"Ahh," you hum, "okay, understandable. I'm going to get you some water, okay? Did you come here with friends?"

"No. Was actually planning on making some friends." He laughs, and it makes you chortle as well.

"Miami is not the place to make friends Danny." You informed. "Stay here, I'm going to grab that water."

You saunter away, keeping an eye on the lean man as you approach the bar. You order a water, paying for the overpriced bottle with your Apple wallet, and quickly return to the drunken man. You don't know why you helped him; it was just in your nature to assist anyone you could.

Danny smiles up at you with an appreciative smile as you uncap the bottle for him, "Can you hold it, or do I have to give it to you?" You inquire.

"Give it to me, please."

You both break out into childish snickers at his words. "Easy there, buddy," you warn, tilting his chin up and directing the bottle to his mouth.

You pull it away, tightening the cap and placing it in front of him on the table. You then slide into the booth beside, "I'd feel better with myself if I stay with you for a while, just to make sure you're okay."

He nods, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallows, "Yeah, I get it; I'm so shitfaced right now."

It is quiet between the two of you for a while, you constantly reaching over to make sure he's hydrated and him smiling at you all dopey-like.

"You from here?" He asks as he starts to regain his sober mind.

You shake your head, "No, just moved here though."

"You can be my Miami friend." Danny grins.

"I'll probably never see you again after tonight, Mr Australia." You joke, nudging his shoulder with your own.

"I come here every year around this time." He announces. "Work."

"Work," you nod. "Right."

"Yes or no?" He prods.

"Have to see if you can hang; it doesn’t look like you can." You joke.

He scoffs, leaning away and eyeing you. "Please, I am a good time, the best time."

"Sir, I've just met you, and I'm taking care of your drunk ass." You cackle.

"How about this, stick with me for the rest of the night, and if we have a blast, every time I'm in Miami, you ride with me."

"You're going to get white girl wasted every time?" You inquire with a raised brow, and he laughs hard.

"Probably."

It was safe to say that Daniel was a blast. Even if he did party like a fratboy, you enjoyed his company. He gave you the energy of a teenage coming-of-age movie, doing whatever and saying whatever with his friends. It was a connection you hadn't experienced before.

And you enjoyed it, you liked spending time with your Australian friend. Which is how you ended up meeting Sir Lewis Hamilton six years later.

Lewis didn't know why he allowed his enthusiastic coworker to convince him to spend a night in Miami with him. The only solace he found in the situation was knowing that he wasn't the only driver there. Everyone was there, in a section booked by no one other than Daniel Ric himself.

It was nice for sure, and Lewis was curious as to how Daniel, of all people, knew so much about the lively city of Miami and their restless nightlife.

Everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves. Lewis, just felt out of place a little bit, without his usual crew.

"Hey Guys, I'll be back in a second, I'm going to grab my friend."

Lewis rolls his eyes taking another sip from his glass.

He doesn't know who he was expecting, a Ken doll, a high-energy frat boy like Daniel, or even a valley girl with a high-pitched voice. This was Miami, so logically his smartest anticipation would be a surgery-riddled Kim Kardashian lookalike. But not you, Lewis would never expected you to enter the section, arm wrapped around Daniel's waist as you cackle at whatever nonsense leaves his mouth.

He is instantly intrigued, his phone being powered off and stuffed into his hoodie pocket.

You were beautiful with your rich complexion and beaming grin as he walked you down the line introducing you one by one.

His eyes never leave you as he watches you interact with everyone. You cloud his vision as you get closer. His eyes trace your hair and flow down to your brows and your alluring eyes. His view travels down your nose and lingers on your spread lips. And he physically lets out a sigh as he traces over your body.

You would drive him mad. He knows it.

-

As you take the time to introduce yourself to Danny's coworkers, you aren't surprised to see, well, to make it short, people who are not of your crowd.

But to your surprise, they're all friendly and welcoming. You're not surprised to see that you have met some of them before on your trips with Daniel or when you fly out to see him.

When you reach the end of the line you see him and your confidence falters as your eyes meet his. You should've known by the way his eyes were drinking you in that he'd be a problem.

With conviction, you approach him, bearing a sly smirk on your face.

"I'm y/n." You declared, and Lewis returned the same decency.

"I'm Lewis."

Your hands meet in the middle and he has a soft grip on you, refusing to let go.

"What's a girl like you doing with Daniel."

"He's my friend." You reply.

"Just a friend?"

"Just a friend." You confirm, and the way he looked at you through his fluffy lashes was evidence enough of what was to come between the two of you.

-

Lewis wasn't all that the media portrayed him to be. He wasn't overly confident or carefree. He actually worried a lot and was stressed a lot.

You knew that he felt like he had something to prove. You met him at his peak, and even now, when he feels like he's at the worst in his career, you're still here.

"So you're going to leave?" You hum, rubbing your fingers through his parts.

"Do you think I should?"

He looks so stressed out that is it has your heart is aching for him.

He's slumped like a kid in your lap with his face set in a frown. "I think that if you're unhappy and there are ways that you feel can change that, that you should look for something new, yes."

"Did you mean what you said last time?"

You think back to the last time you were in his presence, how he had gotten drunk for the first time in years. You wince internally as you recall how you had to nurse him back to health that night, how he cried like a baby when he mentioned how alone he felt at Mercedes. Lewis Hamilton wasn't used to being an afterthought.

"Yes, I don't think they appreciate you, Lewis. I don't think they are valuing your feedback or honoring your talent. I think they are making you miserable." You confess. "There are so many other teams that would love to have you, who would fight for you to reclaim your eighth. I don't think you should keep going through this with that team. Look at how they have you."

"Is your favorite team still Ferrari?" He opens his eyes and stares up at you.

"Duh,"

When you first met Daniel, you had only heard of the sport, but as time went on, he fully immersed you into the world of Formula One. You quickly took a liking to the red team and its intricate history in the sport. When you met Lewis in 2018, he was shocked that you knew so much about them (and barely anything about him).

"Don't tell me you're considering Ferrari, Sir Hamilton." You grin and he only smirks up at you.

"We'll see."

-

After the eventful first night you had spent with Lewis nearly six years ago, Miami has become a frequent destination of his. And New York of yours. The two of you guys had a chemistry unlike any other, every night filled with breathless pants and chants of each other's names. It was electric and erotic all at the same time.

You were fully aware that you and Lewis weren't necessarily together.

You were fun for him and him for you.

It was a mutual agreement, a bond strictly built from the amazing sex that the two of you had together.

You were aware that when the time came for Lewis to settle down and spend the rest of his life together it probably wouldn't be with you. You had believed you'd come to terms with the fact. But the idea of you two being together in the future still lingered in the back of your mind.

But as you scroll through Twitter, images and small clips of Lewis walking hand in hand with a Brazilian model have your heart tightening.

It wasn't like Lewis hadn't given you that false hope of a relationship, because you'd like to think that all of those little small things were him giving in. Surrendering that stupid ideology of his that made him believe he was a permanent bachelor.

You'd been by his side and in his bed over and over again for the last six years. And you’d be doing the same again tonight.

You almost feel grimy, sitting and waiting for him in his hotel room as he takes another woman out on a date, but a part of you knows that you’d accept anything from Lewis. You had standards and you had morals, but for a man like him, you always seem to throw them all out of the window.

Your phone vibrates and pings as your social media erupts in a frenzy.

That was another thing that had your mind in shambles right now.

How open he was when it came to you.

How quick he was to show you to the public, none of his other flings had gotten that opportunity, well until whoever this chick was.

Before you, Lewis hadn't introduced his "fun times" to his friends or even bothered to take any of them to the track.

That was something reserved only for you, though, you feel sort of naive, watching the tan and leggy woman prance around hand in hand with Lewis as he leaves the paddock.

You feel like you're stuck at the crossroads as you wait for Lewis to return.

He'd flown you out here partly because he claimed he missed you so much and the other half because of how much of a hard time you'd been having with your life in general.

Lewis was also a sort of saving grace for you, when you were with him, none of your other problems mattered. So you were quick to accept his invitation.

You'd never have accepted if you knew that he'd be playing a cruel game with you like this.

When the door creaks open and he emerges with a happy grin on his face, and bags filled to the brim with what you know are gifts for you, you can only grimace. Your attempt at a smile seems good enough for him as he approaches you and places a sudden kiss on your head.

"Hey love," He smiles, "I've got some gifts for you, yeah, knew you'd need a pick me up."

And you can't help to wonder if you'd needed the pick me up from his actions or what had transpired within this last week which was the sole purpose of you going to see him.

"I'm going to wash up, really fast, yeah? And then it'll be me and you tonight."

You say nothing as he places the bags at your feet and rushes into the bathroom.

You don't move, but you allow your eyes to skim through the bags and sigh as you see just how much he spent on you.

You had gone and done it.

Gone and made some glorified elaborate fairytale out of a man, who'd only treasured your body and in return showered you with gifts.

You laugh at yourself as your hand comes up to palm at your forehead.

You were his goddamn sugar baby, not the kind of woman he'd settle down with.

You feel even more stupid at the realization, that all of the nights you'd lay with him and console him after giving him your body were not as you had made them out to be.

It wasn't romantic, it was transactional. Those nights where you offered Lewis emotional solace always came with a hefty reward the next morning.

And now, you feel tainted, knowing that all it took was a simple call of your name for you to come flying to him and land in his bed, wrapped around his body.

You found Lewis in his prime and stuck by his side through his decline. You comforted him throughout his entire descent down the totem pole. Helped him out of that broken place, and gave him reassurance and something to look forward to.

You treasured this man.

Put him on top, time and time again, when he would leave you feeling used after your time together. And if it was up to you, you'd probably continue this cycle. Giving him your all and getting nothing in return.

You really wanted him, you wanted him to want you, which is why you were fine with keeping his bed warm, at least he wanted you in some kind of way, craved you even if it wasn't the way you wished to be desired.

When he emerges from the steamy bathroom, body clad only in a pair of briefs and his body soft and glowing, you swallow back all of your thoughts allowing yourself to take him in.

He nestles beside you on the bed, taking one of your hands in his, "everything okay?"

You can only push out a meek "yeah."

And the night goes on as planned.

The dim light of dusk spills through the blinds of the grand hotel room, casting long shadows that dance across the walls. You sit against the headboard, The melancholic melody of the empty night mirrors the turmoil in your heart.

Six years ago, you met Lewis at a nightclub, your paths crossing in a haze of neon lights and pulsing music. He was charming and mysterious, with eyes that held secrets and a smile that promised adventure. Your connection was instantaneous, a spark that quickly grew into an all-consuming flame. You spent endless nights talking, laughing, and dreaming about a future together. Well at least on your end.

But as the years passed, you began to notice the cracks in your seemingly perfect world. Lewis' past as a bachelor was a shadow that loomed over your situationship, a constant reminder of the freeness he carried within him. He would disappear for days on end with no communication, leaving you in a state of anxious uncertainty, your mind racing with thoughts of where he might be and who he might be with. Yet, you had no right to concern yourself with these sorts of things.

As you lay in bed, the weight of unspoken words pressing down on you, you find the courage to ask, "Lewis, do you love me?" His silence is deafening, and the look in his eyes speaks of a love that is nonexistent, a love that is more of a need for you than a want.

"I care about you," he finally whispers, his voice tinged with regret. "But my heart belongs to someone else. I’m sorry."

Your world shatters at that moment, the pieces of your heart shattering like broken glass. You know you have to let him go, to find a way to heal from the pain of a love that was never truly yours.

You realize that you have been holding on to a love that was destined to fade, a love that has left you feeling empty and lost.

You deserve a love that is real and true.

He’s like medicine, he makes you feel good and at the same time, he’s like poison, running through your system and finding a new part of you to sicken. Lewis is a walking contradiction, you don’t know if he’s helping you or hurting you, if he loves you, or if he hates you. Surely, he hates you, why else would he be okay with making you feel like this?

And as the city lights flicker on, you vow to never lose yourself again.

You shouldn't ask, because you know you can't bear the weight of his answer but you do.

"The woman from earlier?"

He sighs, his response weak, "Yes."

"So no more us? Right?"

"I think this is the last time." He admits and you swallow back your tears.

"Okay."

"I still want to be your friend."

"We were never friends Lewis, and we're not going to be friends after this."

Lewis swallows, sitting up to catch your gaze through the darkness.

For years, you and Lewis had maintained a delicate balance, a friends-with-benefits arrangement that allowed you both to keep things uncomplicated. You cherished the intimacy, the shared moments of laughter, the comfort of his presence. But deep down, you always knew that this arrangement had an expiration date, an inevitable end that you tried not to think about.

And now, that end has arrived. Lewis has fallen in love with someone else. You can only turn away from him.

You stand up, the cool air of the room a stark contrast to the warmth of the bed. You begin to gather your clothes, each movement mechanical, your mind numb with the reality of it all. You glance around the room, taking in the familiar surroundings that now feel foreign and distant.

As you pull on your jacket, you catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. Your eyes are filled with unshed tears, your expression a mixture of sadness and resolve. You know that this is the moment you have to let go, to walk away from a love that was never truly yours.

You think it's kind of ironic.

How you'd been there for Lewis, and when you needed him most, he's leaving you behind.

"Do you love me?" Lewis' voice echoes from his place on the bed.

"No." You lie. "It was fun, was fun being a pit stop for you." You chuckle.

"It wasn't like that-"

"No, it's fine, we weren't anything, you fucked me and brought me gifts in return, I ate that up, that's all. I knew I was only here until you made up your mind, I'm happy you did."

You had a tendency to become a bitch when you were hurt and you knew that your words were low blows, but your pride was too hard for you to allow Lewis to see himself affect you in real time.

In reality, you'd hoped that if the unfortunate and impending doom would occur, that Lewis would have the decency to allow you to fall out of love with him first.

Then it wouldn't hurt.

You knew what the arrangement was, you knew that you and Lewis were technically nothing and you always thought that when the day came for him to finally leave you, you'd be fine. You'd feel nothing. But you do.

It feels like when that one character who doesn't care about dying has a sudden brush with death, how almost dying rids you of every sane thought you have, a person who fears nothing all of a sudden fears death, fears everything.

You always thought you'd feel nothing, but losing, could you even say losing Lewis? 

Being left by Lewis feels terrible, being left by him feels scary, like everything you knew before was not as it seems. 

You always thought you'd feel nothing, but you feel everything you thought you never would.

And in the end, you still wanted him to stay. You wanted him to choose you. Even if he didn't want you.

here you go babes @greedyjudge2 !! I'm sorry it took so long <3

part two in the future fs.

[elssero]

under your influence

k.nanami

♰ sfw, drunk!nanami x fem!reader, drunken confessions, whipped nanami.

being parked outside a dingy bar in the middle of the night was not an activity you had planned to take part in tonight. the bar itself is dimly lit and in the low lighting the edges of each building seem to blur, almost forgotten. there feels an uneasy stillness to the scene, interupted only by the occasional shout or distant screech of tires.

darkness envelops the road as you drive through the black of the night, blinding headlights pierce through the dark, casting rays of light that reveal only a small portion of the road ahead. the streetlight beside you flickers irregularly, creating a dance of light and shadow.

upon seeing your friends emerge from the bar, silhouettes slouched and movements staggering you open your car window. The air is thick with the smell of cigarette smoke, it mingles with the scent of your air freshener and the faint smell of alcohol seemingly clinging to the surroundings.

"yn- hi- were so so sorry to call you out tonight-" gojo's body is unsteady as he speaks to you, his hand gripping the side of your car to keep himself upright. watching him sway- you begin to think you should be taking him home too.

"he just- he wont shut up about you- said he would only go home if you picked him up." his speech comes out disjointed- lingering too long on certain words.

hearing your passenger seat door open it averts your attention away from the white haired man poking through your window- watching as a man you don't quite recognise helps a drunk nanami into the seat next to you.

"i- i know you were busy tonight- m'- we're very sorry." he leans in too close when he says it- breathe thick with alcohol.

"it's okay- just be safe tonight 'kay? call me if you need anything." gojo nods as if he understands but the glaze and distraction in his eyes indicate he's not fully grasping what's being said. at least you tried.

after watching him stumble his way back through the bar door you start your engine- the noise of the grit seems to alert the man next to you.

"y-yn? are you here to take me home?" he hiccups as he stutters through his question, cheeks flushed from the alcohol.

"yes nanami. I'm taking you home." it's cute the way a smile forms on his face- the way his cheeks seem to turn an even darker shade of pink.

"¡ missed you-" it's silly- you only saw him a couple of hours ago when he and gojo left for the bar after a extremely long week at work. there's a rawness to the way he's acting- the sudden affection not going unnoticed.

"why-why didn't you come out tonight?" the quick change in his voice is evident- a tone of frustration escaping.

"¡ was busy- im sorry." he turns away from you, pouting like a child before he continues "i just- i wanted you there."

your heart skips a beat- "i know- im sorry." shaking your head- reminding yourself that nanami is a coworker. it couldn't be anything more than that, even if you both wanted it to be.

"i wanted you there- so- so that we could do this." he moved his hands around in an attempt to explain himself- gesturing too broadly as if his movements are struggling to keep up with his thoughts. "hm? do what?"

"so we could talk." the weight of his words feel heavy-"we talk all the time?" your not yet strong enough to lift them.

"no- no i mean so i could talk to you- so i could tell you-" he cuts himself off this time becoming overly serious as his emotions swing from one extreme to another in his drunken state.

"tell me what?" the world feels quieter now, with fewer cars on the road it almost feels peaceful. the hum of your engine more pronounced as it fills the silent space.

"tell you- that i like you- alot i think." his voice wavers- heavy with emotion and vulnerability matching the inner turmoil he's been holding back.

"i enjoy spending time with you over anyone else-and i miss you when your not around- which never happens." he pauses for a second, catching his breath.

"i feel a constant need to be with you- all the time it's- it's so overwhelming." there's a noticeable tension in the air- a mixture of nervousness and relief as he lays bare something so deeply personal.

"it's like- it's like whenever i'm near you- i can't think straight- but all i wish to be by your side-" his eyes avoid yours- glancing down at the floor- as if the weight of his confession is too much to bare.

you take a deep breath before replying to him-unsure of your ability to keep your voice steady,

"are you sure?" it feels childish- stupid- to doubt his affections, doubt his feelings for you.

"i've never been more sure of anything in my entire life." each word he says is deliberate- said firmly and you find yourself unable to doubt him.

"i'll take you home- we can talk about this in the morning." your voice drops to a whisper- his confession still raw in your mind, wishing only to avoid any misunderstanding.

"we can? you'll be here in the morning?" the hope in his voice is evident- you can't fight the soft smile that forms on your face, the small blush on your cheeks.

"yes nanami-i'll be here in the morning" your words become more gentle- spoken with care as you stop the car, finding yourself outside of his home.

"promise?" his hands made no effort to move to open the door- his eyes seem more focused, filled with tenderness and admiration as his lock with yours- almost taking your breath away.

"i promise.'

[darielivalyen]

Eldritch Tales: Inheritance [WIP]

Eldritch Tales: Inheritance is a game that blends elements of psychological, supernatural, and cosmic horror with a good dose of drama, investigation, and romance. You and your high school friends are reunited after five years by a mysterious letter, and through this letter, you inherit an old Gothic manor and a substantial fortune.

There is only one condition: you must live in the manor together.

As you arrive at Blackthorn Manor, strange, unsettling events begin to unfold. Shadows move on their own, nights are unnaturally dark, and the atmosphere grows increasingly tense. The manor is full of secrets, and the more you learn, the less you seem to understand.

Play as male, female, or nonbinary.

Customize your appearance, personality, and sexuality.

Romance or befriend a wealthy and carefree playboy, a no-nonsense scientist, a disciplined and protective ex-soldier, or a sweet and free-spirited artist.

Manage your relationships, or face unforeseen consequences.

Pay attention to your sanity and health, or…don’t.

Search for clues, solve puzzles, and learn the truth behind your inheritance.

Discover hidden rooms, secret passages, and eldritch artifacts.

Confront moral dilemmas, and be careful as they may have far-reaching consequences.

Face randomized events that will keep each playthrough unique.

Experience multiple endings based on your choices and actions.

What darkness does Blackthorn Manor conceal, and how will it affect your fate? Can you uncover the truth and survive, or will the manor’s sinister influence consume you all?

TYLER REYNOLDS

Background: Born into wealth, Tyler has always enjoyed privilege and opulence. While his party-going ways have quieted recently, he still likes to boast about his family’s status.

Personality: Tyler has a confident, carefree spirit that can be both alluring and unnerving. He enjoys living in the now and isn’t too concerned with the future.

Physical description: Tyler is tall and lean with an athletic build. He has dirty blonde hair, hazel eyes, and a preppy yet sophisticated style. He is fond of loafers and owns over two hundred pairs.

Smell: Blend of citrus and sage.

CALEB MITCHELL

Background: A former soldier, Caleb has spent the last couple of years doing different security jobs. He’s very protective of his younger sister Julia, with whom he shares a close bond.

Personality: Caleb is disciplined and protective, with a dry sense of humor shaped by his military background. Despite his rugged exterior, he dreams of a peaceful life.

Physical description: Caleb is tall and muscular, and has an overall rugged appearance. He has a dark brown undercut, deep brown eyes, and a bit of stubble. His style is mostly casual.

Smell: Cedarwood with hints of amber.

JULIA MITCHELL

Background: Julia has a deep passion for science; she excels in engineering and physics. Her career and research define most of what her life is about.

Personality: Julia is a no-nonsense individual who values efficiency and clarity. She’s methodical in her approach to problems but can get puzzled in overly emotional moments.

Physical description: Julia is of medium height with a lean physique. She has neck-long black hair, deep brown eyes, and wears stylish glasses. Her style is Parisian chic.

Smell: Paper and ink, with hints of lavender.

LUNA HARPER

Background: An artist first and foremost, Luna’s whole world revolves around her paintbrush and palette. She embraces all forms and aspects of spirituality and loves crystals.

Personality: Luna is a free spirit, and her vibrant personality is reflected in her artwork. Her optimism is infectious, her humor innocent, and her soul seems to be untouched by cynicism.

Physical description: Luna is petite and has an ethereal presence. She has long platinum-blonde hair with pink highlights, green eyes, and loves the bohemian style.

Smell: Patchouli and sandalwood.

FORUM | DEMO | PATREON | PINTEREST | TUMBLR

[delulujuls]

silent carnival | ln4, op81

i will just leave this here without any particular comment. im glad that the las vegas is over and im even more glad that lando is okay. anyway, please enjoy it as always!

summary: lando crashed and went to the hospital, y/n and oscar coming to the rescue

warnings: nothing i think

pairing: lando norris x fem!mclarendriver x oscar piastri

The prevailing silence in the car was almost deafening, even the radio didn't dare to hum songs. The only audible sound was the quiet engine working at full throttle, ready to reach the destination as quickly as possible.

Y/N and Oscar sat next to each other in the back seat, gazing at the night landscapes illuminated by fiercely glowing neon lights. Neither of them was in the mood for conversation. The atmosphere was truly worse than gloomy.

Las Vegas was way much more than intense. The city pulsated with nightlife, decidedly more than any other place where Formula 1 had the pleasure to visit. That's why the silence that surrounded the McLaren drivers was quite shocking. However, this silence was entirely justified. It emerged when the orange car with number four on it submerged in sparks and concluded its disastrous ride in the barriers. Right then, all of Las Vegas froze; right then, the entire McLaren garage held its breath.

When the taxi parked at the hospital driveway, the pair quickly stepped outside and headed towards the entrance. After talking to the woman in the reception point and facing temporary difficulties finding the right room, they humbly sat on chairs in front of it. They had to wait until the tests were completed and the doctors left the room, allowing them to come in.

Seeing Y/N nervous, Oscar wordlessly embraced her, providing comfort. She closed her eyes and leaned on his shoulder, knowing well that she wouldn't calm down until she saw Lando with her own eyes.

After some time, when two doctors and a nurse left, the couple entered the room. Lando was genuinely surprised to see his friends, but he smiled seeing them.

The girl quickly approached the bed, ready to hug him, but she hesitated and lowered her outstretched arms, not wanting to cause him unnecessary pain. However, Lando pulled himself up a bit, reaching out to her and allowing the embrace. Oscar exchanged a reassuring look with his friend, smiling at him encouragingly. He sat on the bed and also hugged Lando, soothingly patting his back.

"You gave us quite a scare," Y/N murmured, still holding him tightly.

"It looked worse than the actual outcome it brought," he replied.

After some time, she pulled away and sat beside him, scrutinizing him carefully. Fortunately, there were no signs of serious injuries, just a few bruises and bumps.

"Thank goodness you're okay," Oscar said, glancing at him. However, Lando didn't seem overly comforted.

"Maybe I'm fine, but I completely fucked the car. I'd rather something happened to me than—" "Don't even say that," Y/N quickly interrupted him, scolding him with her gaze.

"Our cars have been total crap for a few races now, so I think you did a favor to the factory people," Oscar remarked with a reassuring smile, lifting Lando's spirits a bit, although he still shook his head.

"Total massacre. At least you fought for our honor," Norris said, looking at the aussie.

"Fought is an understatement. Oscar was ready to throw hands," the girl laughed at his comment.

"Maybe it's for the best, considering how much of a disaster the track was. And you just crashed and hopped into the warm and comfy ambulance without giving a fuck—lots of space, delicious, perfectly chilled water, phew," Piastri joked, maintaining a serious demeanor.

Lando chuckled, nodding in agreement. "I'm glad this race is behind us," Norris admitted with a sigh, wincing as he adjusted himself on the bed. "It's just a shame about the outcome."

"It doesn't matter," Y/N said, resting her head on his shoulder. "The most important thing is that you're okay."

"Since I'm fine, you shouldn't waste time here," Lando said, looking at his friends. "This is our last night in Vegas; I'd go for a wild party if I were you."

"Oh c'mon, fuck Vegas," Oscar cut in, shaking his head.

"I can't wait to leave this place," Y/N admitted, taking out her phone "I'll order us some champagne, what do you think? We need to toast to this cursed city."

"I'm a hundred percent in," Oscar nodded.

"I hope no one will be mad at us for a little party here," Y/N said, dialing a number.

"It's an open party, the McLaren house is open to everyone," Oscar added.

And as they said, so they did. Shortly after, three bottles of champagne appeared in the hospital room and each of the trio could swear that the shared evening was better than any party.

At some point, Lando stopped thinking about the past race and the unfortunate crash. His thoughts departed from that incident; he didn't even feel the pain of his bruised body as he held a perfectly chilled bottle of champagne in his hand. He couldn't also contain his smile as his friends danced in the middle of the hospital room, singing a song in his honor. At that moment, Lando was genuinely happy and understood that to feel this way, all he needed was the company of these two, who would do anything for him.

[hederasgarden]

How's flirting for dummies reader and Jake doing? Are they in a relationship now? I'm dying to know!!

These two are 100% still in a relationship (and if Jake has a beautiful two carat diamond ring hidden in his sock drawer, well that is no one's business but his.)

Pairing: Jake “Hangman” Seresin x F!Reader Rating: General with a little suggestive content and kissing Word Count: 500 A/N: Based on my Flirting for Dummies series. Reblogs and comments feed the muse. 

Jake would prefer a big blowout proposal with both of your family and friends, but Jake knows you. You'd hate all the attention, so instead he plans something small and intimate with the help of Bob and Janet. 

He enlists Becky to make sure your nails get done before the big event and uses the excuse of an important banquet with his squad to get you dressed up. You look beautiful sitting in the passenger seat, gesturing animatedly as you talk with him about your day. 

Thankfully you're not overly familiar with the layout of the base so you don't realize he's driving in the opposite direction of the hangers. You're so caught up in your story that you don't stop talking until he cuts the engine of his car on an abandoned stretch of beach.

He can see the adorable little wrinkle between your brows as you realize you're not where you expect to be. You glance back at him, confused before seeming to notice the line of tiki torches in the sand that lead to the water's edge. He sees the exact moment you put together what's coming and the way your anxiety ticks up.

Jake takes your hand in his and squeezes it. "Relax, it's just us," he promises and you smile at him so sweetly. "Come on," he urges. 

Bob and Janet followed his instructions to the T and set up a little table and chairs with food. There's also an ice bucket with chilled champagne to celebrate with once you say yes.

By the time Jake gets down to one knee you're shaking, anxious, and excited. He smiles and you return it. You don't even look at the ring in the box, eyes locked on him as he asks you to marry him. 

"Yes, Jake. Of course," you tell him.

Once he slips the ring on your finger you practically launch yourself at him. You bury your face in his neck, breathing in deeply as he strokes your back. Jake knows you're overwhelmed and he holds you until you pull away. When you finally do, he cups your face and kisses you deeply. 

"This means I really like you, in case that wasn't clear," he whispers with a grin, tapping your nose affectionately. “I know sometimes you can be a little slow on the uptake with these things.”

You laugh. "That was one time when you first asked me out.”

“Hmmm, what about when I asked you to move in with me?” He questions with a raised brow. 

“Ok, two times,” you defend, giggling at the expression on his face. “But this time I got it. The ring makes it pretty clear. You and me, we’re gonna get married.”

“Good, good,” he whispers, leaning in to drag his lips over the shell of your ear as he continues to talk. “I want to be crystal clear. with my intentions” 

You moan when he pulls the strap of your dress aside to mouth at the swell of your breast. “Clear, oh my god you’re so clear,” you pant, grasping his biceps tightly. 

Ask away

[bunnyteetharry]

Full Throttle

summary: Harry get’s into a bad crash during a race which leads to the exposure of your secret relationship

warnings: none-ish

pairing: formula1driver!arry x bossesdaughter! reader

————⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆ —————⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆ —————⋆ ˚｡⋆

The sound of people chattering and cars zooming loudly filled your ears

You were sat in the box with he other race engineers, all eyes glued to the big screens that were mounted onto the wall, you fixed the position of you headset you don’t know how many times already, your leg was bouncy up and down like crazy

Growing up surrounded by this environment you would think you would be use to this already but of course that changed when it was someone you cared about on that race track

Your Dad was The Managing Director for Ferrari, since you can remember, you and your sisters would always tag along and watch the races sometimes out in the stands with your Mom or by the technical team, watching them fix up the cars quickly in the box and getting overly excited when they rushed back into the race which blew a huge gust of wind your way and brushed your hair all over your faces

You met Harry when he was freshly up incoming for Mercedes at 21 years old, whenever you come around during the summer and help your dad, while learning some things about the different roles when it comes to the sport, he would roam around till he found you in the snack room and you started talking since

Well mostly him bugging you any chance he could, when he won in The Australian Grand Prix, he hopped off the car and ran straight towards you “I think a congratulations kiss is in order” his smirk was spread wide across his face, you rolled your eyes, arms crossed against your chest “Beat it before my dad see’s you over here Styles” he smiled and ran back to his team, jumping on them to give them a hug, resulting in almost crashing all of them into the ground

Four years later he joined Ferrari at 25 years old, you were currently finished with being an intern and joined race engineers, imagine the look on your face when you walked into the schedule meeting and see the sly smirking British man sitting there next to your dad

“Where’s my welcome to the team kiss?” He was leaned again the wall of the snack room, right where it all began “Can’t push me away now since we’re teammates” you rolled your eyes “Are you here just to annoy me even more? Cause this is a huge step that may resolve in a restraining order” he shrugged and picked up a water from the mini fridge “Who knows but I see this as a win win situation” before he was about to leave the room he turned back around and leaned down to your ear whispering “No getting rid of me now sweetheart” he pecked your cheek, smiling wildly out the room leaving you stun in your spot

Throughout his time with Ferrari, there was an odd thing going on between you and Harry, everyone noticed it, but you tried to ignore it as best as you could, sure you couldn’t help the sigh of relief you let out each time he finished a race in mint condition or the small smiles you would send each other across the rooms

At one point you finally admitted to yourselves that you had attraction towards each other and went on a few dates, at night of course as you didn’t want to bring an up roar in the morning with the press if you were seen with one of Ferrari’s top driver, especially with eh position your dad is in, you just knew the headlines would be wild

Even with secretly dating for a year now, it’s hard to do anything, let alone hold hands, it’s a good thing you’re families okay with it or else this would make your relationship ever harder then it already is

“He’s going to be okay love” your dad squeezed your hand tenderly, you tried your best to hide your worries into your smile “I know, it’s just you know how nervous I get sometimes” he nodded and smiled “He’s the best of the best, nothing can go wrong even with his track record” he said before heading back to his spot next to the track

The beep of the starter lights began to sound off

All three of you scooted to the end of your seated and breath hitched once the lights turned green

Half an hour in and the charts were looking good, Harry was close to second place coming behind his teammate Leclerc, right when he’s about to hit that mark Lewis Hamilton looses control of his breaks and crashes into Harry’s rear right tire, sending both of them tumbling toward the edge of the track

“Fuck” you mumbled quickly standing up from your seat, “Harry, you alright mate?” Roger the technical manager called out from the headset, it was quite for a minute but it felt like years before Harry answered “Yeah I’m good” he coughed, from the corner of the screen you could see the Marshalls already on the scene to make sure Harry and Lewis were safe from the impact

Minutes later Harry was back in the box, his face covered with debris and scratches

Everyone came up to him to congratulate on a good job he did so far before the crash happen, after the crowd settled down you dropped your headset onto the counter and ran towards him

He immediately reacted and wrapped his arm tightly around you, the other clutching your head, “I’m okay baby” he whispered pecking your forehead, every stood and starred at you both, a look of shock scattered on their faces

Letting go you cupped his face, looking for anymore injuries he may have “Hey, hey I’m fine love” he smiled softly bringing your hands down and wiping off the tears on your cheek

“Don’t ever scare me like that again” you lightly punched his chest “No promises” he smiled down at you

a/n: sorry for the long wait (and the quick ending), I was so busy with college I lost track of time but I’m trying to get as much writing as I can done, hope you enjoyed this one! <3

[weapon-xox]

Scogan drabble if you are ok with it ^-^

hope this is alright! thanks for the request 💕

"I missed you."

The putter of a motorcycles engine was cut off, the garage growing eerily silent, as Logan turned to look at Scott who had heard the engine from a mile away and was trying to act like he didn't run come down here just because that meant that Logan was finally home.

The Wolverine opened his mouth to speak, to maybe say something teasing along the lines of 'don't think I can say the same' despite being the furthest thing from the truth, but Scott pressed a hand to the bike and eyed it lovingly. Logan rolled his eyes.

"Oh," Cyclops purred, gaze flicking up teasingly through the visor, Logan could just see the outline... He wished he could really see those eyes. "didn't see you there, claws. How was your trip?"

"Nothin' new," he sighed dejectedly. "Didn't find what I was lookin' for, but that ain't new either." Scotts teasing demeaner faltered, and he stood up straight, offering a sympathetic smile while taking a scruffy cheek in his palm.

He scratched at the side of his partners head, behind his ear, in just that way he knew Logan loved, and as expected Scott could see the stress begin to dissolve, could see the mutant lean more into his touch with eyes that prettily fluttered closed and lips that parted in a soft gasp.

Logan started leaning to the side in the same way a cat might when you find that sweet spot, and Scott knew how to find it every time.

Wanting to be closer, missing his boyfriends overly heated body for the week he'd been gone, he carefully stepped over the seat and sat down behind Logan on the bike, the poor vehicle creaking under their combined weight, arms wrapping around his torso with his chest to his back and a chin on his shoulder, fingers smoothing over the dips and ridges of his stomach after slipping beneath his shirt while Logan leaned back into him. Scott could hear the creaking of metal joints in the silence of the garage, and he couldn't tell if they were Logans or his bikes.

"I missed you, too, you know," Scott started softly, head turned and lips pressed to Logans neck, mouthing tenderly against it's side while pulling the leather jacket from his shoulders. His kisses followed the fabric, lips trailing behind as it fell from Logans shoulders, bare with only the strap of his tank top. Logan felt hotter, nearly scorching his lips, if that were possible.

"Uh huh," he grumbled in an attempt to sound aloof, but the lazy smile and lidded eyes that struggled to stay open and locked on Scotts face gave him away, though something conflicted twitched against his features. Fingers brushed through the lovely patch of hair just above those tight jeans, pausing, then grabbed a handful and tugged. Logan mewled out a whine, and Scotts face shifted into something serious.

"I mean it. I know you don't really think I do, but I do." Logan looked away. Scott brought him back, unoccupied fingers grabbing his jaw. Logan looked unconvinced.

"Scottie," Logan laughed bitterly, but didn't try to look away again. The bike moaned when he shifted, and his neck was starting to get uncomfortable from the awkward angle. "Y'ain't gotta lie. I know how these things go, and I've always been replaceable."

Now Scott looked angry. Or hurt, maybe, Logan couldn't tell with the visor covering the most expressive part of Scotts face.

"I don't know anyone else made out of metal," Scott pointed out, but Logan didn't like that.

"So you like having a weapon around. Can't say I'm surprised, teachers pet." Scott groaned in frustration, but he never tightened his grip on Logans face, or his hair on his belly, just held him enough that he couldn't run away.

Not this time.

"I don't know anyone who can make me so angry," Logan opened his mouth to complain, stopping when Scott simply shook his head. "I'm not done." Logan obeyed.

"But I've also never known anyone who makes me feel... This way, whatever it is. Angry, sad, but happy. Loved, and protected. Jean, sure. Of course Jean. But you? You make me feel something more, and confusing, if I'm honest. When we fight, it motivates me to do better. When you're mad at me, and we're arguing- all I want to do is kiss you, Logan. Kiss all that anger and pain away, hold you in my arms, and tell you that no one can hurt you now because I won't let them."

Logan wasn't exactly sure if he should be hurt or pleased, and when Scott saw that confused puppy dog tilt of his head, he smiled softly. Still tight-lipped, but a smile no less.

"It's written into who we are that we hate each other, I can feel that sometimes. That it's supposed to be how we feel- that we should hate each other, complete opposites of one another but really, we're the same. Or similar," he added with a nod, and Logan was starting to understand. Scott continued,

"What I'm trying to say is we don't hate each other. Or- I don't. I don't hate you one bit, because even when I'm angry with you, I love you, and that feeling doesn't go away. I'm never really angry-"

"Neither am I," Logan interupted, big, furry hands finding purchase on Scotts porclean cheeks with urgency. "Not at you. Never at you. I..."

Then they were kissing. Logan wasn't good at words, but he could express with his body, fully turned around on the motorcycles seat now to press up against Scott and kiss him, fingers tangled in soft, red strands, Scotts index fingers hooked through Logans belt loops to keep him close. When they parted it was to breathe, if only for Scotts sake, and Logan looked up at him and accidently let a small whine slip. Cyclops muttered "See? I can't replace this. I'll never find someone like you again, I can't replicate this feeling no matter how hard I try. So just trust me, okay?"

Trust. That was a hard word for Logan, but he nodded anyway, because Scott didn't smell any type of way that could make him disagree. Didn't make him feel like he couldn't trust him, not like so many others had failed to do before.

Scott wiped a stray tear that fell from Logans eye away with a brush of his lips against his cheek, then brought those same lips to Logans ear, his voice a soft whisper that made Logans stomach flutter and his head swim, "let's help you relax, old man."

Logan was brought to their room. He didn't say it outloud, couldn't find the right words or the voice to say it outloud in case everything fell apart, with Logans luck of keeping people around, but he could never replace Scott either.

[incogrio]

monster mash!

SYNOPSIS: in which you go on a pumpkin patch date with your boyfriends!

pairing: : poly!ot5 x gn!member!reader (no gender mentioned, but written with male reader in mind) word count: 1.8k+ genre: enough fluff to heal my soul permanently warnings: cringe? overly affectionate? a changbin joke (in good fun i love him) mayhaps very american view of pumpkin patches,, queers,, etc

AUTHORS NOTE: soooo... yeah i've been gone a WHILE. i would say a lot has been going on but that would lowkey be a lie. i just sort of lost the motivation to... do anything really LOL,,, but i hope u guys have not forgotten abt me!!! i may be a tad rusty, these may be a tad out of character, i may be a tad terrified of posting this. moral of the story, hope u enjoy, i've missed u guys. 

fall has always been your favorite time of year. the orange falling leaves, slight chill in the air, and the pumpkin flavored treats never failed to enthrall you. but, being a kpop idol comes with its downsides. the main one: no time off. 

and so, you spent every halloween practicing with your members, filming to do specials and squeezing in a singular mini chocolate bar in secret at the end of the night. in many ways, it was depressing. but what the emptiness left behind was love.

you and your members had slowly begun a relationship. in the beginning, it was out of sheer desperation and loneliness. a quickie to get you through a long schedule. but, throughout your years together, all six of you had fallen in love. and today, you were finally getting some time off, and what better way to spend a chilly autumn day than at a pumpkin patch. finally, you had all crammed into the van you’d usually used for traveling between schedules, except today, there were snacks strewn about, no chauffer, yeonjun took that job, blankets and jokes. 

“guys, what if we lose soobin in the corn maze, he’ll look just like the scare actors!” beomgyu loudly exclaimed mockingly over the hum of the engine and radio blasting music. 

soobin, in the passenger seat beside yeonjun, simply turned to look at gyu. squinted eyes and lips fighting a smile dawned his face. 

“guys!” soobin repeated, mimicking beomgyu, “what if we lose beomgyu in the pumpkin patch, he’ll look just like the pumpkins!” huening kai loudly burst into laughter, clapping his hands together. 

beomgyu, who was sitting next to you, let his jaw drop in shock. he picked up a bag of chips and hurled it at soobins face, to which the entire van erupted into laughter and claps. 

soobin turned once more, “y/n! restrain him!” 

you laughed reaching out to wiggle your fingers into beomgyu’s sides, to which he squirmed and loudly squealed.

“ah! stop! i thought you loved me!” beomgyu loudly protested through his laughs. 

after much reprimanding from yeonjun for being too loud, soobin delivered a chaste kiss to yeonjun’s cheek. everyone pretended not to see the blush. it wasn’t long until you felt a small tap on your shoulder. you turn to see one of your boyfriends, huening kai. he was dawned in his brown star sweater, black hair all strewn his forehead. he looked like if fall and spring had a child, and if they had named it after their hopes to become summer. 

he points to a nintendo ds in his hand, and then glances to the empty seat next to him. you smile at his sheepish request, and climb over the seats to collapse next to him. he immediately covers you up with a blanket, and you lean your head on his shoulder. almost instantaneously, you are enthralled by his soft, deep voice muttering to you his actions on the pokemon game displayed on his screen. you wrap your arms around his, snuggling into him as you slowly close your eyes.

———

when you awaken, you notice that what once was a soft, brown sweater, is now a tan colored shirt. you don’t need to look up to know who it is. you let out a soft hum, and taehyun smiles to himself. he softly shrugs the shoulder you lay on, coaxing you to lift your head. once you concede, you realize the rest of the van is empty. 

“we’re five minutes away,” tae says softly. “but beomgyu was gonna shit his pants, so we stopped here. everyone else is getting snacks.” your tired brain takes longer than usual to deduce that you have arrived at a gas station, but once you do, you look back at tae. 

“you didn’t want to get off?” you ask, voice deeper than usual from sleep.

tae shakes his head, reaching to you and fixing a stray hair gently. 

“wanted to spend some time with you, even if you were asleep.” he says sheepishly, and you internally aw. he leans forward, his bright black eyes glancing down to your lips. you let your lips brush for a moment before taking control, jerking your head forward to close your lips around his. he lets out a deep breath, as though he had been without air for years. you smile against his lips, and allow yourself to get lost for moment. 

“guys, stop being gay.” you hear beomgyu say from the open van door. tae separates himself from you, smiling widely, eyes crinkling around his shiny eyes. 

you turn to gyu, “if you want a kiss too, just say that.” 

“what if i do? i sat next to you on purpose, you know. but then you moved!” beomgyu whines out, to which you chuckle. he was only sated after about 5 kisses and two cheek squeezes. 

——— 

when you all finally arrive at your destination, you were welcomed in by a large “fall pumpkin festival” sign in large, blocky letters printed on a wooden sign. 

you pile out of the car, soobin immediately floating to your side and slipping his pinky to wrap around yours. you all slowly figure out where you are meant to go, and begin walking up a quaint gravel path. at the entrance, you were immediately bombarded with the sounds and sights. giant bouncy houses, food trucks, carnival games, corn mazes, even pig races were all at your disposal. immediately, you all gravitated towards the small race course that winded up tiny ramps and around small obstacles. 

gyu points at one of the pigs grazing, “look, it’s bang pd!” soobin immediately brings a finger to his mouth, signaling to gyu to stop talking as you all giggled. 

“i say the one with black spots is gonna win,” you declare, pointing at the small pig who was currently sniffing his own poop.

“no, the pink ones gonna win.” soobin declared, “he’s bigger.” 

“wouldn’t bigger mean he moves slower?” tae mentioned, and soon, you were divided, three vs three, on which pig was gonna win. you, tae, and gyu on the side of the black spotted pig, which you had affectionately named ppulverse pt 2. soobin, yeonjun, and kai on the side of the pink one, whom they had named changbin. when the race had finally begun, you all cheered obnoxiously loud for your respective pigs. ppulverse pt. 2 fell at one point, and gyu dramatically fell to his knees in utter disappointment. it was safe to say that it wasn’t hard for changbin to win. your team pouted as yeonjun, kai, and soobin all exchanged celebratory kisses and pats on the back. 

“how does it feel to LOSE!” said yeonjun as he pointed at your dejected faces.

“i’m never fucking you ever again.” you said with a monotone, to which kai once again laughed and clapped. 

yeonjun simply laughed with a cocky smile. “aren’t i the one doing the fucking?” he whispers to tae. 

soon after, you all decided to try your hand at apple bobbing. and then you were painting your ppulbatu’s on pumpkins and buying them for an absurd amount of money. yeonjun decided to try his hand at a strong arm competition. lets just say, kai gave him lots of ‘you tried your best’ kisses. 

“it’s getting dark, lets go into the corn maze.” kai suggested, and you all simultaneously stopped walking. he let out a soft hum in confusion.

“im not doing that.” taehyun immediately protested, and immediately all the other members agreed. except for you.

you sigh, shuffling your feet. “i’ll do it on the condition that i get funnel cake beforehand.” kai smiles, reaching up and doing a salute motion with his hand. kai ordered the cake as yeonjun decided to “prove” himself by winning you a fox plushie. 

“watch, baby, watch your sexy boyfriend!” he loudly exclaimed, and you covered your face in embarrassment. he paid the man behind the stand five dollars, and received five rings in exchange. you lingered behind him as he lined up his shot, and tossed them into the rows of empty bottles one by one. as though suddenly possessed by an athletically capable alcoholic, the rings perfectly lined up with every single bottle.

“are you proud?” he asked as he handed you the large plushie. 

“very!” you say happily, pressing a kiss to his plush pink lips. by the time you returned to the rest of the boys, they had already begun digging into the funnel cake. you sat down, sitting the plushie next to you as though he were a person. all the members immediately mutter soft ‘woaaahhh’’s at yeonjun’s accomplishment.

finally, after much picking at the cake in slow motion to stall, you had to venture into the corn maze. junnie, soobin, gyu and tae all sat on a hay bale near the entrance to the maze as they hyped you up. the fox plushie in one hand, and kai’s sleeve in the other, you both slowly walked into the maze. 

kai walked as though he were walking through a mall at midday. meanwhile, you were practically pulling off his sweater by the sheer grip you had on him. the first scare actor noticed you guys before you noticed them. they took note of your apparent fear, and targeted you instead of kai. 

right as you were walking by, a man dressed as a zombie launched out of the corn maze and shouted in your face. you screamed bloody murder, stumbling back into kai and covering your face with your plushie. kai immediately laughed, and you smacked him as he practically dragged you to continue walking. you kept your eyes on the actor as you walked farther and farther away. 

the next scare actor targeted kai, determined to make the unfazed man crack. she was dressed as a pilgrim, with a giant axe stuck inside the front of her skull. she jumped out, grabbing her head axe and yanking it out of herself, before maniacally swinging it at you and kai. you, once again, screamed out, pulling kai backwards by his sweater and shaking. kai simply stepped back, letting the woman’s manic behavior come to a halt before laughing to himself and continuing on his way, you in tow. 

the woman stopped her acting as you left her sight, letting her axe get stuck back in her head and turning to the zombie actor, shrugging. 

for the rest of the maze, all of the actors were targeting kai, desperately trying to get him to so much as flinch, blink, anything! ironically, the only person they managed to scare every time was you. after what felt like an eternity, you finally looped around to the entrance, and saw your boys all chit chatting. you sprinted out of the maze, pulling kai behind you and immediately shouting about what had happened. you described every single scare as kai hugged you, and the rest of the members diligently listened to your maniacal rambling. 

despite the scares, you were comforted in the simple fact that no matter how dark or scary a place may be, your boys would always be there to listen. 

and so as you snuggled into the van once more, next to tae once more, you smiled to yourself. fall was finally your favorite season again. 

there is a taglist! if u want to be on it, put in an ask :3

don’t forget your daily click!!

requests, as always, are open! no promises tho :(

[mossyivy]

Emo leon likes to record himself because he thinks it makes things hotter, one day he recorded him fucking your thighs and kept it... 👛anon

(I imagined the Redfield Reads AU to take place in 1999 so I'm gonna be referencing some old shit that people might not know wtf it is and I'll be really dating myself here...)

NSFW Under the Cut

CW: Mention of chocking, bruising, and piercings.

I'd imagine Emo Leon taking old polaroids and disposable camera shots of your naked body after you two just fucked. (He has a fascination with photography) Getting your pretty worn out post orgasm face and the mess he made across your stomach in frame as you lay on his couch. He leans over you, giving you a kiss before he grabs a rag to clean you up. Dropping the specially labeled camera and polaroid on the coffee table as he got up.

He'd curl up, wiping your stomach clean, pulling you into his chest as you two look over the polaroid he took. Kissing your shoulder as you tangle your limbs together.

"You always look so sweet after you cum, like the bitchy side of you just evaporates." He chuckles, tilting the picture towards you. You whine, pushing your face into his neck. He rubs his hand up and down your side. His rings making a cold line up your skin.

"You're so mean to me..." He scoffs, biting his bottom lip, making his piercings shift on his mouth.

"I'm mean to you? Wasn't this you just five minutes ago?" His head rolls back over the arm of the couch, a fake an overly exaggerated moan leaving his lips which quickly turned real. You're delicate fingers squeezing one of his pierced nipples with a smirk as he looks back at you. Leaning in, you start kissing down his chest with a soft giggle.

"Sweetheart..." His hand goes down, lifting your chin up to look at him. Thumb with black chipped nail polish runs over your puffy lips as he cheekily grins. His hand slides from your chin to your neck. His thumb brushing over old hickey bruises as he snuggly fits against your neck.

"You're insatiable."

The next morning he's running late for class. Grabbing his bag from the floor and leaves behind his key for you to lock up on your way out to work after he kisses your head goodbye. On his way out he notices the few disposable cameras on the coffee table and grabs all of them without thinking and turns them into the local photo hut on his way.

After class he has work at the bookstore so he stops by the photo hut to grab his pictures and the guy can't even look him while he's paying and getting his pictures back. Leon has no idea what this guy's issue is but whatever. Not his problem. Making his way to his car he notices one of the envelopes is taped.

They never tape these things...

But he shrugs it off, driving to work. He parks his car, killing the engine, grabbing his cellphone from his pocket and presses the circle button to turn it on. Seeing he has 1 new voicemail. He puts the phone to his ear as he listens.

"Hey babe," it's you, must have called to say good morning since you slept through him leaving, "sorry I didn't say goodbye. I was just wiped out. Hope class is going well... But um..."

He hears you shuffle for a second, sounding like you're sitting on the couch.

"I can't find our special camera?" His eyes go immediately to the small yellow photo hut bag in his passenger seat. Not paying attention as you said i love you through voicemail and hung up.

He pulled out the taped pictures, dropping his phone on his lap as he stares at the tape with a little x in red sharpie on it.

The special label...

"She's gonna fucking kill me..."