#real-deal italian spots

[fieriframes]

[So, it's places like these, the real-deal Italian spots with names like "Capone's" in Idaho, a barbecue joint cooking up whole hogs and taking over Nashville, and a legit motel diner that's keeping it real in Miami.]

[4unnyr0se]

❥ being satoru gojo's sugar baby

warnings: rich asf gojo, reader is a bitch in the first part, fem! reader, lingerie, riding, cunnilingus, doggystyle, breeding, mentions of pregnancy, gojo hates stupid people, not proofread, reader gets so spoiled, spanking, asphyxiation

MDNI | 18+ content

word count -> 1.6k

Being Satoru fucking Gojo wasn’t easy. Being handsome, rich, and popular with the ladies? Talk about a workout. He had so much money he didn’t know what to do with it all. It’s only the result of being fucking brilliant at business practices, always knowing when to strike a perfect deal. And that bore the fruit of luxury cars, Italian jackets, and beautiful women aplenty. Gojo liked fucking the pretty girls he met in the clubs, sure. They were good for a decent cock-sucking, their expensive lipstick always forming a nice little ring around his dick. Poor things, it was probably the only nice lipstick they owned. Gojo felt bad for them in a way, they would never know what it was like to be spoiled by a man such as himself. They were so fucking fake, expecting to be spoiled just for having a decent pussy to fuck. Don’t get him wrong, Gojo liked fucking the college girls he met in the clubs, but he wanted something that was real. He wanted a good girl to spend his infinite cashflow on, not a whore who didn’t know what a fucking tax bracket was. 

He met you at his usual club, not recognizing your face from behind the bar. Hm, you must have been new there, Gojo would never ignore a pretty face like that, even though you were so grumpy looking. Did you hate your job like he hated bimbos? Gojo wasted no time in sitting himself down in your section of the bar counter, ordering a shot of the most expensive vodka the club offered. You called him an asshole and Gojo could have proposed right then and there. 

Gojo attended the club every night, sitting at the exact same spot and ordering a different, expensive drink each time. He noticed how you softly smiled when he told the local club bimbos to piss off, no doubt enjoying him shooing away drunken, stupid girls. Eventually you finally caved and gave him your number, resulting in him giving you a kiss on the back of your hand like a prince would.

Every day he would call you, text you, ask about your day. Did anyone give you trouble at the club? If it was a shitty coworker of yours, Gojo would have them fired. It didn’t matter if he didn’t own the club, he was half of the club’s monthly revenue. Gojo could do whatever the hell he wanted, he was practically paying everyone's salaries. His texts brightened your day, along with his visits to the club when you worked long evening shifts. He had stopped ordering drinks altogether, just slipping you a healthy $300 every hour or two. You had refused at first, but Gojo had this really annoying habit of being able to convince anyone of anything. It got to a point where you just held out your hand for the money at the start of every hour, which made his cock throb with desire. You were growing accustom to being spoiled and he fucking loved that. You were spoiled without being stupid, that was so fucking sexy to him.

One night, after a very annoying shift, you invited him to visit your crappy apartment downtown. Gojo jumped at the opportunity and practically threw you into his Bently, no doubt breaking a couple of traffic laws to make it to your place in record time. It was so humbling, your apartment. There were cracks in the fall and the faucet had the most annoying drip, this would absolutely not do. You deserved to live in a fucking castle in the sky, not in this shithole.

Gojo bought you a townhouse a stone's throw away from his penthouse. You protested and groaned at him not to, claiming you weren’t worth it. Gojo quickly shut you up with a passionate and longing kiss, whispering against your plush lips that he would buy you the moon and the stars. After that, you really couldn’t complain. Everything was paid off for the fifty-year lease that Gojo had signed; he was so disgustingly rich. Why did you have to go back to working at that sleazy club? Oh, right, you had to afford to eat and shop. Don’t worry; Gojo gave you a ridiculously large sum of money every week to buy whatever the hell you wanted, sending you more money if you run out. You only spend a couple of hundred dollars a week on groceries, but then there was this stunning vintage Dior dress in a shop window, and you simply had to have it. You sent Gojo a picture that displayed the price tag, and he swore he came in his pants. Fuck, you looked amazing wearing designer dresses. And you were modeling for him; he wanted to marry you so badly.

You bought lingerie one time, lacy and black, and so fucking expensive. Garters and stockings and the works, a gorgeous French design. Gojo just about lost his mind when he saw that photo you sent, driving over to your townhouse as soon as he had an opening. He tackled you in a passionate and longing kiss, ripping off the lingerie with his hands. Whatever, he’d buy you another set. No, twenty more sets.

His lips trailed across your body, leaving searing, hot kisses in their wake. You were covered in Gojo’s bites and bruises, looking like an ancient Greek sculpture. Gojo fucked you right on the floor of your living room, not bothering to carry you up the flight of stairs to your bed. You just looked so good in the lingerie you purchased with his money. His money, his lingerie, his sugar baby. Your sobbing pussy was squeezing his massive fucking cock, sucking him into you like a vortex. Your manicured fingernails left angry crescent-shaped prints on his back, his Italian jacket, and other expensive clothes long forgotten about in a pile next to the door. His cock slammed into you over and over again, the tip of his dick kissing your cervix until you were screaming his name, swearing you were gonna cum all over his cock. Gojo fucking loved hearing your moans; they sounded so expensive when his ringed fingers were wrapped around your throat, squeezing it ever so gently. He moaned into your ear as your orgasm washed over you once more, the third one in the hour. He still wasn’t finished, oh no. He had you folded into a mating press, begging and whining to be cummed in by one of the wealthiest men in the world. And who was he to deny his princess? Gojo shot himself deep inside of you, painting your womb with his seed. It looked so pretty seeping out of who; he just had to take a picture. You wouldn’t mind, right? He’d just give you another five grand for a few more dresses. 

Oh, even his aftercare was expensive. Running you a bath infused with freshly-pressed lavender and rose oil, soaking into your skin beautifully. Your fucked-out face was flush from the steam in the bathroom, making your already perfect skin so smooth. Gojo never wanted to stop touching you, not for a moment. He wrapped you in your Egyptian cotton sheets and held you tightly in his arms, thanking you for being his baby. As he whispered sweet nothings in your ear, his precious baby’s ear, you drifted off.

After that perfect night, Gojo basically lived in your luxury townhouse. He would be there when you opened your eyes and when you closed them. There to take you out on romantic restaurant dates and feed you the highest quality sushi there was. He was there to buy half the fucking boutique if you wanted him to. Those dresses were too pretty for anyone else to wear besides you. You no longer protested when he bought you stuff, only kissing his chest while humming a thank you in his ear. The expensive lipstick you wore stained his cheek, not that he minded one bit.

Apart from the expensive gifts, dates, and other such things, Gojo loved fucking you. You modeled every single set of lingerie he wanted you to, especially black and blue sets. He loved your little fashion shows, the way you would always sit on his lap and grind down on his thigh, your arousal soaking the delicate fabrics. His hand would slap your ass, commanding you cum on his thigh and ruin your panties. He’d fuck you face down ass up with an expensive vibrator on your puffy clit, smirking sadistically as you sobbed that it was too much, you couldn’t take it. He’d make you ride him in his home office, making sure his video camera was always off during meetings so no one except for him could see that pretty ass bouncing up and down on his cock, milking it for all it was worth. He’d demand you sit on his face, not letting you off until he had his fill, your cum covering his mouth and face. Gojo would command you to lick it off him, hands squeezing your waist, and was adorned with a leather garter belt.

God, he wanted to breed you. He never wanted to use protection, which you objected to at first. But he whined and pleaded, claiming it would only be once. Well, once turned into always. He always came inside of you multiple times a day. He wouldn’t stop until he was sure that he had fucked his cum inside of your pussy, sticking a finger inside just to make sure it was still there. He would babble on about how you two would have the most perfect wedding and have such cute babies, how he would take care of you. You would be so pretty, all swollen with his child. 

Satoru Gojo took care of you from the moment the two of you met, your companionship being the most valuable asset he had. To him, you were the most precious thing, and he would take care of you until the day that he died.

[vaaaaaiolet]

Why choose between riding a cowboy, a stallion, or an Italian when you can have all three? In which you find competition for the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost in the American West.

mdni holy shit. f / m, shameless smut just like pure filth. p in v, wild west au, TONS of christian imagery via metaphor??, mild praise + size kink, leon's a tease as usual

word count: 1.69k <3 // read on ao3

a/n: re6 leon turns my brain into illiterate mush and this is the proof. i wrote this 1 word an hour. i couldn't cope. ignore the half assed banner, half assed writing, half assed everything. listen to nessa barrett's song from the title. god bless you all.

God makes no mistakes: you’re on your knees in the back of an Arizona saloon, but you’re not exactly praying thanks. God is a vision in dirty blond as far as you’re concerned. How’d you end up here?

Enter Leon Kennedy: outlaw on the run.

He hadn’t gotten the memo when angels started coming down to Earth and wanted to give you the warm welcome you deserve. 

“Seriously?” You laugh; swirl your watered-down whiskey.

“I’ve always wanted to try that one out,” Leon grins. Cocky and magnetic, he takes your hand in his own calloused one and guides you to the dance floor. “But you haven’t seen my real trick yet.”

“And what’s that?”

“This.”

Every other beat of your heart finds you in a dizzying dip over the floor as Leon leads you in a dance akin to gunfights in Tombstone, except Leon is more than O.K. at what he does. He’s got you in a trance with his hands spanning your waist.

Sucking in dust and his woodsmoke cologne, you gasp, “Where’d you learn how to dance like that?”

“You’ve never been danced properly before?” Leon laughs. He spins you like you’re the moon.

“Not like this!”

“Oh darlin’, you don’t learn by talkin’ about it. Keep dancing and you’ll figure it out.”

Figure out a two-step you might not have, but you can figure just fine what Leon means when his hand slips up the hem of your blouse. A hungry thumb soon lines your brassiere right under the nose of the barkeep. 

“You’re crass, Leon,” you whisper.

“Is that a no? I’ll treat you right if you let me.”

God expects his servants to give and take, and you’ve done a lot of taking so far, no? You’ve been a little down on your luck lately. Can’t afford to tempt fate that way. So you pull Leon down by the collar, whisper back with your lips lined in devil red, “Make it my treat?”

His smirk glimmers in the dark. “Lead the way, doll.”

Quickly, quickly. Miracles disappear in the blink of an eye and Leon needs to take you before you can disappear into the night. Rope-toughened fingertips fly down your lined blouse, slip the silk off to unveil your sun-freckled shoulders behind the barkeep’s storage door. You’ve spirited Leon away for twenty minutes at best before the saloon closes and the workers come barging in. You’ve got to pay penance for this, haven’t you?

You sink to your knees. 

Leon hooks his hands under your thighs and sits you right back up on a crate, and gets down on his knees.

What.

You’re running on borrowed time, you can’t afford tweaks to this arrangement. “I thought we had a deal?” you scowl. 

But you forget God makes no mistakes. Leon is his creation, so causation, correlation, you do the math. Your anger dissipates at the first swipe of his thumb over your clothed slit. Wetness blooms at his touch, and Leon chuckles as your breath shudders. Genesis.

“Wouldn’t be very gentlemanly to let a lady do all the work.” He kisses the spot between your legs, looks up at you with eyes of oasis blue. “You know I take the lead.”

Your chest heaves. “I do.”

“I’m good at it.”

“...You are.”

"And I know this isn't your style. All I ask is that you let me earn my keep.”

Well, that goes without saying. And so Leon flips the script. 

He starts lining burning kisses down your thigh, entices you with an “Open for me”, sighs dreamily when your legs part of their own accord. A previously bothersome, soaked scrap of lace falls at Leon’s feet. 

“Oh, baby, you should’ve asked next time. Look at this mess. Wouldn’t’ve needed to be so quick, then.”

Try and look down, but Leon’s already latched his warm mouth onto your clit, sucking like it’s a Tootsie pop. You throw your head back in ecstasy. 

Waves of feel-good wash over you in all the colors of a pinkening sunset, gold at the edges and red hot at the center, your own overflowing with slick as Leon dips his tongue inside – oh, oh, oh, swirling the colors with each revolution around your sensitive pearl. Your thighs threaten to clamp around his head. He keeps you pliant, capping your knees with rough palms.

“Leon…” you can’t help but whine. 

“Just workin’ ya a bit. Think you’ve had enough?” you hear him groan from underneath.

You’re barely breathing. “Need…need more.”

“Don’t seem that way to me from here. God, you’re gorgeous.” Leon croons, sucking a tender bite a little ways from where you need him most, over the softest part of your inner thigh. A landmark so he can hope to find his way back. He taps your knee. “Time?”

The dusty clock on the barkeep’s desk reads ten minutes to twelve; you relay this with difficulty as Leon does his damnedest to render you incapable of speech. He hums, considering. The vibration shoots right up your core.

“I’ve been in tighter spots,” he eventually decides, shooting you a lopsided grin as he hefts you higher on the crate you’ve practically melted off the side of, “No offense, doll.”

You’d laugh if you weren’t so close. “Low-hanging fruit, Leon.”

“You taste sweeter nohow.”

Missing his mouth already, you pull him back into a kiss. His leather belt clinks in time with the glasses back inside the bar as he unbuckles it, and you take the time to appreciate how you’re level with him even perched atop a crate. Leon’s got height on you. 

Inches where it matters, too. His cock bucks in his hand when it finally springs free, and you bat your lashes up at him ‘cause it seems Leon’s been keeping secrets. He’s thick, ruddy and leaking, got a halo over the head of his dick in the light that creeps in from under the door, and you make a prayer to put your mouth on him if you cross paths once more. Your fingers barely go all the way around.

“Make a deal with me, cowboy,” you breathe. “I let you have your fun. Now, you let me.”

Leon cocks a brow. He’s antsy, understandably so. “What’s that entail?”  

Plywood burns the back of your jean skirt as you slide off the crate, Leon watching as you shuck off the denim, pool it underneath your feet. You reel him in by the collar just to shove him onto the barkeep’s high-backed chair. Leon’s eyes widen when your thighs bracket his and everything suddenly makes sense as you center your cunt tantalizingly over his painfully erect length. 

He’s rasping, needy. “This what you had in mind?”

“‘Fraid so.”

“You sure?”

You scoff haughtily, dragging a smile from him that’s all lynx. “Your wish is my command, miss.” 

Palms start gliding up your torso, thumbs rub circles on the undersides of your breasts. Leon’s collarbones collect moonlight streaming in from the open window and you want to lap it all up like milk, but you’re getting distracted. The clock is counting closer to midnight. Adrenaline makes you heady. Maybe you should tell Leon to get a good handle on your hips when you sink down on his dick – point blank. 

All the way to the hilt. 

He takes it in stride as best as he can. “Tight, doll, ah,” he hisses, head bobbing, “so tight. Gonna send me to heaven.” 

You shift your hips experimentally, whimpering at the stretch. You’re a lousy judge of character but an apparently worse judge of size because you have no idea how you’re going to do this. Leon’s thumb reroutes to your navel, North Star that it is, and travels down to wait over your clit. Technically, you’ve still got the lead. Everything’s still. So so still. You’re about to break.

The minute hand ticks.

“Leon, please,” you whimper.

“What’s that, doll?” 

You paw uselessly at his chest. “Need help.”

Leon clicks his tongue in sympathy. It’s hard to get mad at a thing like you no matter how tough you sell yourself. Smart mouth and pretty eyes, bubblegum sweet underneath, something he’s gotta help. Leon’s always been a sucker for the damsel in distress type.

So he calls down a miracle. “I gotcha, sweetheart.” 

You cry out in relief at the lifting sensation of his hands around your hips. This is another dance you’ve yet to learn, it seems. 

“I gotcha.” Leon’s voice is a psalm over the burn of his cock inside you. A familiar thumb sneaks in between where you and he meet; whiskey and mint on his breath intoxicates you when he murmurs, ”Did so good for me, darlin’. Doesn’t feel too great right now, does it?”

You sniffle. “Mm-mm.”

“Gonna let me make it better?”

“Please.”

Leon indulges you. Taking advantage of the slick velvet he’s wrapped in, he glides you up just the tiniest bit, revealing the inch of his length you’ve covered in your arousal. You watch transfixed as he lifts your hips up and down. Baby steps. Stomach flips. You leave him coated in stardust like you’re made of it.

Leon’s in awe. “See that?” 

But you’re too far gone to take notice of anything but the embers in your stomach, seconds away from crumpling onto his chest. You were once sitting proudly upright. The extent of your desire hits like a revelation once your insides finally mold around him, like it was all prophesized, and you can’t tell up from down when Leon starts to piston you on his lap.

Five minutes 'til it’s all over: You’re tender and boneless and about to explode. Leon is relentless. Sweat drips from his brow like holy water. He kicks the barkeep’s chair to barricade the door because you were right, there’s no way you’re making it out here alive.

Your thighs ache with exertion, steering you on their own.

Four minutes: “Can’t take it, Leon!” You’re going under. The flood is no myth.

“Tell me where,” he grits, desperate.

Three. 

You want him to pull up the ladder.

Two.

“Where, doll, where?!”

One.

“Inside.” 

And God, you burn brighter than the sun.

psst, find more of my work here!

comments and reblogs are very much appreciated <3 take care and i love you!

[honestlyspookytyphoon]

Then why are you here?

Summary: Y/N attends the national premiere of a sports documentary and Charles cannot help but fall for her. But does Y/N feel the same?

Word count: +/- 1.2k

Author’s note: I gave the story a little twist, but I hope you like it! English is not my first language so sorry for any bad writing and spelling mistakes. It took longer than expected, but work was a pain…

Warning: None, I guess?  

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was a rainy and cold evening in November. The street were covered in darkness, although it was just over 5 p.m. The thermometer outside the pharmacy a little further down the street indicated 9°C, which was a normal temperature this time of year in other parts of Europe but it was highly uncommon in the small Mediterranean princedom.

Charles sighed. After a long and exhausting day, he wanted nothing more than to stay home and enjoy the comfortable warmth and quietness of his own apartment. But he could not because, tonight, the Ferrari documentary premiered in Monaco. It was a beautiful documentary about the history of Ferrari in F1, starting with the introduction of the legendary Italian brand to racing and over the numerous WDC’s and successes to the rather saddening truth of today.

Charles usually did not mind attending official events, especially when they were this close to his home. He was proud to be a Ferrari driver and held font memories of his time as member of the Ferrari Driver Academy. He never had to worry about what he should wear, practically having an Armani suit for every day of the year. He never had to worry about not knowing anyone or feeling out of place, since it were mostly him and Carlos people were waiting for.

Of course, the 2023 was not going great at all, but Charles knew how to put things into perspective. It sucked, sure, but every F1 team has had one or more seasons in which things did not go well and Charles had been through worse in his life. Also, the PR team of Ferrari had made clear to the press that tonight should be about the rich history of the brand and that questions about the ongoing season could be asked at other times.

Then why was Charles not so keen on getting ready?

He could blame it on the fact that his mom and brothers would not be there. He could blame it on the weather or the rigorous training Mattia had put him through today. He could blame it on the lack of rest he has had recently, that the constant travelling got to him. Deep down, however, Charles knew the real reason and he almost felt pathetic about it. Tonight would just be another event he attends alone, without a plus one. Charles normally did not mind being single that much – he had a great circle of family and friends – but at nights like this, he did.

It was during moments like this that he wanted to be more like Pierre. His best friend, but also the biggest Casanova he knew. Ever since childhood, Charles and Pierre both have had a more than fair share of female attention but both coped with it differently.

Charles has always been the serious one, the one being in long-term relationships. Charles met beautiful women every day, but he did not go any further unless he knew it could be more. Pierre, however, was the complete opposite. He was the textbook definition of a player and never hesitated to use his fame and money to get the girl he wanted. Like yesterday, when he texted Charles that he fixed a date for tonight. He met her in a club and sealed the deal less than one hour in. “It could be a fling, it could be more, but whatever it is, we at least had a fun time together”, Pierre said. And sometimes, Charles wished he could look at it the same way.

The alarm beeped. 6 p.m. Time to get ready.

.....

The red carpet went better than expected and the documentary was beautiful. Now that the press and fans were gone, Charles felt like he could finally relax. He went to the bar to get a drink for him and Sebastian when he spotted her.

She caught his eye already earlier that night, when he saw her searching for her seat. Charles thought she was stunning. She was wearing a black silk blouse, dark green wide leg trousers and a pair of solid black heels, adding a good 7 cm to her height if Charles had to guess. He liked that she did not wear any red, as almost all of the other guests did. She had finished off her look with some subtle jewellery and her hair was styled in a messy bun, which accentuated her gorgeous facial features. He got himself wondering who she was, as the after-party was F1-exclusive and he was sure that he would have remembered meeting her at the track.

During his conversation with Sebastian, he could not focus; she was all he could think of. When Charles once again nodded at the wrong time, Sebastian had enough. “Oh god, Charles, just go”, he snickered, “instead of standing here, pretending to be interested in my stories. Ask for her name. She is here alone it seems, and I am sure she would like to talk to you. So…”  Charles even did not wait for Sebastian to finish his sentence.

“Hi”, Charles said.

“Oh, hi”, she answered.

A solid 30 seconds past without Charles saying anything. Y/N started to think that he had mistaken her for somebody else.

“I am sorry. Are you looking for someone else?”, she asked.

“No”, Charles replied, “I…I wanted to meet you, actually.”

“Really? Okay.”

“Yeah, it’s just…this after-party is exclusively for people linked to F1 and I haven’t seen you before, that’s all”, he rambled. He felt the heat rising to his cheeks. Dammit

“You’re right”, she admitted, “I have nothing to do with F1 actually…or not for now, at least.”

Charles was visibly confused. “Then why are you here?” A pause. “I am sorry, that came out wrong”.

“It’s fine. I am an acoustical engineer and Mr. Vaseur invited me to see if I have any interest in joining the team in Maranello. Instead of telling me why to choose for Ferrari, he suggested that I came to watch the documentary”, she said, “and I’ll admit that I am impressed.”

“My name is Y/N by the way. Very nice to meet you, Charles”, she reached out her hand, “I am a fan.”

“Nice to meet you to, Y/N, and I am glad to hear that!”  He could feel his mojo coming back.

“Can I buy you a drink?”

“The drinks are free here, Charles”, she laughed, “but I would love to have a drink with you.”

Charles and Y/N continued to talk for the rest of night.

.....

“And that, Y/D/N, is how I met your mother”, Charles said, tickling the belly of his newborn daughter who was lying in his arms.

 “Oh god, Charles”, Y/N chuckled, “She is just 2 months old. She doesn’t get it.”

“I don’t care, Y/N, I like the story and she does too. Look how calm she is!” he said.

“It seems to me that you are the only one not enjoying it”, he hinted, “and I am offended, Y/N!”

Charles brought his hand to his chest, faking to be heartbroken.

“You know I love it, Charles. And you know I love you, too, so much”, Y/N said, draping her arms around his shoulders.

“What will you do when Y/D/N is all grown up and doesn’t want to hear the story anymore, like never?”, Y/N teased.

“She won’t. But if she would…”, Charles said, turning his head to face his beautiful wife, “I guess we’ll have to make another mini-us to pass the story onto.”

[darksigns-exe]

it's just you and me now - nicholas ruffilo x jolly karlsson

warnings: swearing, anal sex (m receiving), a lot of feelings

word count: 3.2k

masterlist | Part 1 | taglist sign-up

They’ve been home for almost three days and Nick still hasn’t been able to stop thinking about her. It doesn’t help that they’ve been texting basically non-stop. 

He doesn’t know why it’s so different this time. He’s sure that it wasn’t jealousy - maybe it is in a weirdly twisted way because he never wanted to get involved with it as much as that night. 

Nick had very quickly figured out that he liked to watch Jolly with other people, but that he didn't necessarily need to get involved. He’s more than fine with watching Jolly. And then they’d picked her up, and now everything feels different. Nick doesn’t quite know what this is going to be. All he knows is that he feels his chest warm just a little bit when her name pops up on the screen of his phone. 

He’s kept himself busy working on his art, trying his hardest to avoid the conversation they should probably have. It’s not that he doesn’t want to have it, or that he’s afraid of it. It’s rather that he knows that it’ll change things, and Nick isn’t sure that he could deal with that kind of change. The fear that it this could bring the end of them lingers somewhere in the back of his mind, no matter how genuinely irrational it is. 

He successfully manages to hide away in his little office for another hour, before a knock sounds on the door. Nick can’t bring himself to reply. Another knock. 

“Nick?” he hears Jolly ask from the other side of the door, “Can I come in, darling?” 

The pet name always makes him shudder a little. 

“Door’s open.”

Jolly pushes into the room, a steaming cup of something in hand. 

“Thought you might want a coffee?” He places the cup on the desk in front of him, before he places his hands firmly on Nick’s shoulders, “What’re you working on?”

He’d been smart enough to slam his sketchbook shut before Jolly had entered. Nick doesn’t need to know that the visual of him hovering over their pretty little bed guest had burned itself into his mind. 

“Nothing important.” he replies quickly, fully knowing that Jolly won’t let it go that easily. 

“Everything you do is important.” Jolly presses a kiss to his cheek, “I won’t force you, though.” 

Nick feels his arms slide down, as Jolly leans on top of him a little more comfortably. The weight of him settles the anxious mess of nerves in his belly a little bit. 

“Are you still going back to Noah’s later?” Nick asks, hoping that he’ll say no. 

“Already been. You’ve been hiding away in here all day, Nick. It’s almost four.”

He’s suddenly so very aware of the ache in his back, the oncoming cramp in his hand. He hadn’t even noticed how much time had passed. 

“Alright.” Jolly tightens his grip around him a little more, “Enough work for you. You’re coming with me.” 

Another kiss is pressed to his cheek. Jolly detaches himself from him. Nick knows that he can’t worm his way out of this, and so he shuts down the computer. He doesn’t know why he’s so hesitant to let Jolly see what he’s been working on. 

Jolly waits patiently for him, wraps his arm around his middle when Nick tries to pass him. 

“Do you want to go out for dinner? We haven’t been on a real date in ages.” Jolly says as he walks him into the kitchen. 

They’ve gone out, sure, but it’s been a while since one of their outings was actually marketed as a date. 

“Doesn’t have to be fancy, either. We can just go to the Italian around the corner?” 

It’ll be nice to get out of the house for a couple of hours. 

They’d found this particular restaurant not long after they’d moved here. A cosy little spot just down the street from the apartment. 

Things had somehow just fallen into place. The romantic side of their relationship had always felt like a natural progression. And the decision to find a place to share had been easy. Finding a good place on the other hand had been a struggle. 

In the end, Nick thinks that he couldn’t have made a better choice. It’s a comparatively small neighbourhood, a good thirty minutes from where Noah lives. They have their regular places where people know their names, their orders, and really that’s all he could ask for. 

They’re not even through the door when they’re asked if they want their usual orders. Jolly leads the way to their favourite little spot. A seat in a quiet corner, perfect for long talks. It’s nice to have time for each other like this. 

“How was the studio?” Nick asks, while they wait for their orders. 

“Good. We got everything on the plan done.” It’s a surprisingly curt answer, “You wanna tell me what’s been eating at you? You’ve been quiet since we got 

back.” Jolly’s hand finds its way on top of his, all warm and comforting, “I know we haven’t had a lot of time to talk about all of that.”

Nick turns their joined hands over so that he can entangle their fingers. Jolly lets him manipulate their hands to his heart's content. At least for a while. 

“Nick?” he finally asks, “You know that you can tell me everything, right? I just need you to talk to me.” 

He’s silent for a moment longer, before he finds the courage to will the words past his lips.

“I’m still thinking about it.” 

“Her?”

“That entire night.” 

Jolly nods in a familiarly solemn way, “She was different. It didn’t feel like the other times. Not just because you joined us.”

“You just looked so good together. I couldn’t help myself.” Nick feels himself smile around the words. 

“Is that the only reason you came over? Nick, I know you. You never get involved with it, it’s okay if it made you feel —”

“I’m not jealous.” He snaps before Jolly gets a chance to say it. 

“I wasn’t going to suggest that.” Jolly replies calmly, “All I was going to say is that it’s fine if it made you feel different this time. Even if that’s jealous. You’ll always be my number one.” 

Nick doesn’t think that it’s jealousy in the traditional sense. It’s more akin to regret. He wishes that he’d allowed himself to join them sooner. At the same time, Jolly seemed to enjoy his time with her alone just fine. Nick knows that he’s the one who said that he’d be fine with just watching. He hadn’t really expected that he’d ever change his mind on that. 

“I can’t read your thoughts, darling. You’ll have to say what’s on your mind if you want me to do something about it.” 

“When you said she felt different. Did she — was it better than —”

A wave of sudden realisation that washes over Jolly’s face, “Oh god no. I know this all went different from how it normally does, but that doesn’t change anything about us. Whatever we do with her going forward is a decision we make together. If you don’t feel comfortable with it, it doesn’t have to happen again. No hard feelings extends to us too. I want you to feel good about this. If you can’t in good conscience say that you want us to meet her again, we don’t have to.” 

Nick doesn’t get to say much more as the waiter arrives with their orders, and really he doesn’t need everyone to know that he likes to watch his boyfriend fuck other people from time to time. 

He mulls over the whole thing while they eat. Tries to figure out how he can adequately express that he wants to see her again and that his misplaced jealousy doesn’t come from them doing this, but rather from him not getting to feel as much of her as he had wanted. 

Their little date had turned into a little stroll around the neighbourhood, into a few drinks with friends, and when they fall back through the door it’s almost ten. He’s tired, but not so tired that he doesn’t feel a little restless. 

He can’t wipe the image of them from his mind, and he needs something else to replace it with. Something that’ll take his mind off it entirely. 

Nick finds Jolly in the kitchen, typing away at his phone. He contemplates his approach for a moment before deciding to unceremoniously drape himself over the other's back. 

“I’ll be with you in a moment. Just let me text Ma-”

“No.”

Jolly stops abruptly, thumbs hovering over the screen, “No?”

“Now.”

He places his phone on the counter, stands still for a breath before he turns around to face Nick. 

“Demanding. Alright.” His hands find their way to the sides of Nick’s face, “What do you need from me? Talk to me, my love.”

“I think I just need to know that I’m yours.” Nick admits, sounding a little more meek than he’d hoped. 

Jolly pulls him in for a kiss, all soft and gentle. 

“You’re always mine. But I’ll gladly give you a reminder.” His voice is so soft, so tender. 

Nick loves when he sounds likes that. That tone always sinks into the cracks of his mind. It settles in between the parts of him that doubt and binds them back together. Jolly has always been good at solving his issues. He picked up on Nick’s insecurities early on and did whatever he could to diminish them. Nick knows that he can’t rely on him to solve all of his problems, but when Jolly tends to him like that, he swears that all of his troubles disappear. 

Jolly guides him into their bedroom, hands still interlinked. 

Nick sinks down on the mattress, Jolly towering in front of him. He’s captured in another searing kiss. He shifts further up the bed, Jolly chasing after him so that they won’t be apart for long. The weight of his body is comforting against Nicks. He’s warm and broad and when he slots himself between Nick’s thighs like this, he couldn’t ask for more. Jolly shoves his t-shirt upwards somewhat unceremoniously. As soon as his skin is bared, the others hands drift up his sides. Lips soon find his neck, and he gasps when Jolly leaves his first mark on his skin. 

He feels dizzy with it already. 

Nick sighs when the tip of his tongue flicks across his nipple. 

“You always sound so pretty for me.” He hears Jolly say, but the words feel warped and distorted by the time they reach his ears. 

Between his hands and lips, Nick doesn’t know what he’s supposed to focus on first. He settles on the way his fingers feel so light and tender when they descend towards the waistband of his jeans. He squirms when Jolly’s fingers brush along his sides. 

Another bruise is sucked into the skin just below his ribs. Nick can’t possibly keep his eyes open when Jolly treats him so well. 

“Lift your hips for me, love.” 

He follows quickly and allows Jolly to remove the garments from his body. Nick sighs when he feels his hands drift along his thighs, down his calves. The attention Jolly gives him is unlike anything he’s experienced before. It’s almost overwhelming at times. 

“Get comfortable for me, I’ll be right back with you.” 

Jolly places a barely there kiss against his cheek, before he pulls away and begins to strip his own clothes down. Nick watches as he moves across the room, gathering a few things, before he’s back in front of him. 

Jolly lowers himself across his body, and Nick feels the room dim behind him. His vision narrows down on the man in front of him. He’s not sure that he’ll ever get used to this. 

Nick feels one of Jolly’s large hands skating across the inside of his thigh again. Jolly makes space for himself here. 

“You wanna get on your knees for me, love?” 

He doesn’t have to be asked twice. When he sits up to move, Jolly pulls him in for a quick kiss. Hands cover his hips, adjusting his position until he’s exactly where Jolly wants him. 

“Gonna be cold for a second.” he warns, before he feels a lube slicked finger brush against him.

He’s somewhat used to this by now, but the first push of his thick finger still makes him shiver. He whines at the feeling, the stretch of it. Jolly always takes his time with him, always makes sure that he’s sufficiently prepared for the next step. It’s still a lot. Especially tonight. Nick knows that he won’t last long, but he also knows that Jolly won’t stop until he’s reduced to a whining mess. 

By the time Jolly works a second finger into him, Nick is unable to hold himself up and lets his body sag against the pillow. He whines so unashamed when Jolly’s fingers curl into him just right. 

“You should see yourself.” Jolly says, sounding almost a little cruel, “You’re a mess already, and we’ve barely started. Looks like you really need this, huh?” 

Nick only gives a whine of his name in reply, already struggling to keep his composure up. 

“I want you to cum like this first. Can you do that for me, love?” 

Nick tries to turn his head so that he can catch a glimpse of him, “Yes. Please.” 

“Do you need more than this, or are my fingers enough?” 

“More — I need more.” 

Without further question, Jolly’s hand leaves his waist and wraps around his already leaking cock. The touch is too light, too gentle for what he really needs, but he can’t bring himself to be bratty about it tonight. Jolly knows how to switch his brain off entirely, and he’ll trust him with this, even if it means that he won’t get what he wants immediately. It really doesn’t take much for him to spill his release on to the duvet below. He curses when it hits him. The warmth that blooms through him is so very comforting.

The hand around his cock disappears all too soon, and he barely registers Jolly humming contently behind him. Nick winces, shifts uncomfortably when Jolly goes to remove his fingers from him again. 

“I know.” he soothes, “It’s a lot — fuck I love how sensitive you are. Do you need a moment?” 

Nick shifts his hips back against him, trying to get back into contact. 

“Don’t stop.” he whines, feeling not an ounce of shame for the desperation in his voice, “Please don’t stop.” 

A gentle kiss is pressed to his shoulder, before Jolly adjusts his position behind him. Despite what comes next, Jolly is always so gentle and careful with him when he presses inside. He takes his time, reacting to the sounds Nick makes and stilling when he feels him tense around his cock. He pauses for a moment when his waist presses against Nick’s backside. 

The hand on his waist drifts along his back and over his shoulder. For now, it remains there, as Jolly begins his slow and steady rhythm. Every thrust into him unravels a little more of that knot in his tummy. 

“God you feel so fucking good.” Jolly groans above him, “You’re always so good for me.” 

His pace picks up rather quickly. The harsh thrusts push Nick further into the pillows. The constant stream of whines that falls from his lips is muffled by the fabric below. Jolly’s hand grips into his waist, pulling back against him over and over again. It’s all so much. 

“I’m the only one who gets to have you like this.” Jolly sounds a little worn down already, but that commanding edge is this so very present, “You love being all mine, don’t you?”

Nick can only whine in response, unable to find the right words. He feels spread thin in the best way possible. The ends of his nerves feel frayed and raw. Every thrust Jolly gives into him sends him closer and closer to the edge. It’s dizzying. Above him, Jolly continues to whisper the sweetest filth to him. The words wrap around his mind, unravelling whatever bit of anxiety still had a grip on him. Nick feels himself falling apart faster than he had hoped. His release hits him before he’s really ready for it again. The desperate whines that fall from his lips rise in pitch and frequency as Jolly works him through his orgasm. Just when Nick thinks that he can’t take more of it, he feels Jolly spill inside of him. He rests himself against Nick’s back, his chest warm and heaving as he rides out the final waves of his own climax. Warm breath spills against the side of Nick’s neck, before he feels lips pressing against his skin. 

“You’ll always be mine, Nick. Always. Nothing and no one can change that.” another kiss, nearer to the edge of his jaw this time, “I love you.”

Nick barely manages to return the words, still feeling so utterly breathless. 

After an indulgently long shower, Nick finds himself curled up in front of Jolly. The comforting weight of his arm around his middle soothes the last shreds of worry. He knows that Jolly would never leave him for someone else just like that, and by now he isn’t even sure that that was what he had actually agonised over. 

Since they had left the hotel that morning, Nick had wondered what her hands would feel like on his body, how she would feel around him. He’d always gravitated more towards men, but he can’t deny that she’d wrapped herself around his mind entirely after just one night. And he hadn’t even been involved with the goings-on. He can’t imagine what it’d be like if he actually gets to feel her touch on his skin. 

“We’ll talk in the morning, okay?” Jolly asks quietly, “Try to get some sleep.” 

Nick turns the thought over in his head a few times. He isn’t entirely sure how he’s supposed to breach that conversation. It feels impossibly big, and he knows that it’ll change so much about them. 

He decides that he’ll leave the page from his sketchbook in a place where Jolly is guaranteed to find it within the next few minutes. And he’s barely back in his little office when he hears Jolly approaching. He doesn’t knock this time and instead pushes into the room, thought the ajar door. 

“So that’s what it looked like from your angle?” Jolly asks, and Nick doesn’t have to turn around to know that he has that amused smile plastered across his face. 

“I told you that it looked good.” Nick finds himself sounding awfully quiet. 

Out of the corner of his vision, he sees Jolly come towards him. He squats down next to Nick’s chair. 

“Look at me, will you?” there’s a trace of concern in his voice that stings just a little bit, “Nick, you know that it’s okay if it affected you, right? It’s perfectly fine if you’re curious about her. Just because it hasn’t happened before doesn’t mean that it’s not okay.” 

“I just can’t stop thinking about her.”

“I know. I don’t know what it is about that one either.” Jolly takes Nick’s hands into his, “We’ll figure this out too. This doesn’t have to become anything at all. It can just be a once in a while thing, if that’s what we all want. Whatever it ends up being, we’ll be just fine.” Nick’s hands flex around Jolly’s, “Promise?” 

Jolly presses a gentle kiss to the back of his hands, “Promise.”

taglist: @deathblacksmoke @circle-with-me @sitkowski @ladyveronikawrites @baddestomens

@malice-ov-mercy @chels3a-smile @ferduttini @somebodyels3 @itsafullmoon

@shilohrosechicken

[mandu-17]

Propose | Kim Yoohyeon x fem! reader

Warnings: kidnapping, manipulation, cursing, mentions of drinking alcohol, brawl

Genre: Angst with a happy ending, a bit of comedy here and there, Mafia AU

Wordcount: ~ 4,175

A/N: i had this written down long time ago tbh and when i heard dreamcatcher’s propose i thought i’d share it with you cause the lyrics kinda matches👀 let me know what you thinkk

You remember very vividly the day your whole life changed. It didn’t feel real, just a few days ago you’d been a normal young woman working at this Italian restaurant as a waitress and then suddenly you found yourself dragged into mafia’s dirty world. A huge misunderstanding. You’d never expect that tall, gorgeous short-haired woman to be a mafia member. You’d never expect Yoohyeon - that was her name - to be spying on you.

When she walked into the restaurant for the very first time and directly asked your colleague for you to get her order, you couldn’t believe it. Despite being shy, you felt beyond happy about an attractive, charming stranger wanting to have an encounter with you out of all other waitresses and waiters. You didn’t question Yoohyeon’s flirting or her curious eyes glued to your figure even while you were serving other customers. It seemed okay, more than that actually. You liked being the centre of her attention.

Yoohyeon visited restaurant few more times, always getting a Margarita from you. She’d take her time drinking it while admiring the surroundings and simply walk away after winking your way. She was generous, tipped you a lot which was another reason why you were so fond of her.

That day, there was an accident, someone drunk barged into restaurant. He kept yelling at one of the customers accusing him of lying and stealing money. His whole face turned red from all the anger, alcohol and emotions he’d been dealing with. You coworker Mark, who was also a waiter, tried to ease their nerves and not cause panic in between other guests. Unfortunately, Mark didn’t manage to take control of the situation.

You froze on the spot watching as one of the men, the drunk one, rushed to punch the other nearly sending him off the chair. That’s when even worse thing happened. The other guy started defending himself with a knife which he sneakily took from the table. Mark quickly jumped, truth be told he’d have no chance against them. It was too risky for him to intervene, so he did the only thing he could - called the police.

All of other guests were running out, as the place was slowly being demolished. It was pure chaos. You felt many people pushing through, not caring about your body. You’d almost fall to the floor as well if it weren’t for someone grabbing your wrist and pulling into themselves forcefully, yet there was a subtle tenderness to it.

“Yoohyeon.” You gasped once your hands landed on her shoulders for some support.

“It’s dangerous here, Y/N. We need to go.” The look in her eyes was so intense that you had to really push yourself in order to glance around. Almost everyone else had ran away. Yohyeon was right. You needed to find a safe place and wait for the police.

With a tight grip on your hand Yoohyeon led you outside. Something about her calm aura and confidence let you feel safe. You began to scan her body, she had great physics. Strong muscles currently covered by suit pants and a white shirt. Her face remained almost neutral, except for the gentle frown on her forehead. It only made her more attractive in your eyes, though.

Outside, you found a bit less crowded space a few meters away from the restaurant’s entrance. While you stayed focused on the situation in front of you, you missed the way Yoohyeon nodded at someone behind you.

“I’m sorry.” She suddenly said quietly.

“For wha-”

~

You woke up in a dark room which kind of reminded of a warehouse. Panic in your eyes, as you glanced around. Did you just get kidnapped?

It didn’t sit right with you.

“Finally.” Your head snapped in the direction of the voice.

“Long time no see, huh?” A tall, dark-haired woman addressed you, a satisfied smirk present on her face.

“What? What is going on? It’s a misunderstanding.”

“Don’t play innocent now, Karla. You really thought you’d get away with everything you’ve done to me?”

Karla? Who the hell was Karla?

“I am not Karla, I swear. You got the wrong person. I’m Y/N.” The woman in front of you laughed at your shaking voice.

“I have to admit, you’ve always been a good actress.” She took slow steps towards you, a dangerous glint in her eyes. “But you won’t fool me again.”

You gulped the second she knelt in front of you to look you straight in the eyes.

“I can prove it. I have no idea who Karla even is. You got the wrong person. Believe me please.”

Woman’s head tilted to the side, that’s when you finally spotted Yoohyeon leaning against the wall. Her hands behind her back, as she watched the scene with that small frown.

“Yoohyeon! What did you do?! You know I’m not Karla!” Your eyes met, but there was no empathy in hers. She stared at you blankly.

“Yoohyeon only fulfilled my order which was to catch you, the hacker.” Woman in front of you held up a picture of... someone very similar. You had to admit she looked just like you although you’d never wear her clothes. Nevertheless, your eyes widened in shock.

“I-I-That’s not me, I swear. She looks almost identical, but really it can’t be me. I’m just a waitress and a student during weekends. Yoohyeon knows it!”

You so badly wanted another girl to take action and agree with you. You thought she was smarter than that. There was no way for you to be involved in mafia’s world.

“Woah, have you already fallen for her? You think she’d like someone like you? Oh, please.”

Angry tears blurred your vision. So that’s why Yoohyeon wanted your attention. She was only fulfilling orders. You understood it when she remained motionless against the wall.

“Yoohyeon.” This time leader’s voice was surprisingly stern, far from amusement she was expressing moments ago. One word was enough for the brunette to immediately approach both of you.

“Yes?” Her cautious eyes focused on the other woman.

“Meet me in my office in ten minutes.”

Yoohyeon nodded as you watched the leader walk away. Apparently, now it was her job to look after you.

“Come on, I’ll show you your room.” Yoohyeon said over her shoulder already on her way out of the room. You hated how empty she sounded like. You hated her current facial expression. Who did she think she was? There was no way she’ll tell you what to do.

“Y/N?” Brunette turned around when she didn’t hear you getting up.

“Fuck you! I’m not going anywhere. You know damn right I have nothing in common with mafia! Why did you do that?! Why did you stay quiet when she was talking to me?” You rose on your feet, angry tears now streaming down your face. Yoohyeon clenched her jaw and quickly approached you while pinning against the nearest wall. You froze in her strong grip, you actually had no chance against her muscular body.

“I am only doing my job, okay? Stop whining and follow me. You’re already causing trouble.” She growled in your ear and you couldn’t remember the last time you felt so scared.

Her eyes were piercing through you with so much anger, Yoohyeon’s body tightly pressed against your own didn’t help either.

You really were at her mercy. She could crash you any second. For a short moment the two of you had a silent, intense battle with your eyes. Then Yoohyeon stepped back and once again told you to follow her. You had no choice. Slowly you dragged your feet behind her tall figure. While passing through different doors and halls you began to wonder how she could be such a good actress.

Just days ago, God - you didn’t even know how long you’d been there for, Yoohyeon was sending you all these winks and smiles. How could you be so naive? How could you let her manipulate you so easily? This new side of Yoohyeon, her true side that you were now following made your stomach sick. You were terrified of what she was truly capable of.

~ About an hour later ~

Sitting on the floor with your back against the wall you were looking around your new room. There had to be a way to escape. Yoohyeon left you there before heading to her leader. She told you to ‘wait and behave’.

How nice of her, you thought sarcastically.

You sighed and curled your legs against your chest. Hunger was slowly getting at you, as well as tiredness. Although there was no way you’d fall asleep in that poorly-arranged place full of old boxes and pallets. The door had a glass in it, but unfortunately it was made out of bullet-proof glass meaning running away through it was close to impossible.

As you kept eyeing the entrance, it suddenly swung open revealing Yoohyeon with a paper bag of what looked like take-out. After closing the door, she knelt down in front of you.

“Hope you like noodles.”

You stared at the bag she put in the middle of your bodies, a frown building on your face.

Wait, what?

She actually sounded kind, too.

“Not hungry.” You turned your head to the side, refusing both her food and conversation. You knew better, they could poison you.

“I know you are, but whatever. It’s not poisoned or anything if that’s what you’re worried about.” Yoohyeon crossed her legs on the floor, her moves remained calm which you took as a good sign. You just had no idea when she’d become aggressive again.

Few seconds of an awkward silence later Yoohyeon spoke again.

“Is it true?” Her voice was really soft, a part of you wanted to believe that she came back to you. “That you’re not Karla and actually have nothing to do with the mafia?”

You met her eyes, aware that Yoohyeon tried to read through you and your emotions - something she was actually very experienced with.

“It is true. I have no idea what’s really going on and this whole situation scares me a lot.” There was a slight crack in your voice. That’s when Yoohyeon’s signature frown came back.

“That mean Karla has doppelgangers. I think that’s the case and you’re simply a victim of hers.” Short-haired nodded to herself, her gaze seemed a bit distant now as she was trying to put pieces together. “Jiu also thinks it could be a mistake that we got you and not her.”

“What does that mean then? Who’s Jiu?” You looked at her, desperately looking for answers. It was about your whole life at this point.

“Jiu’s the leader, she was talking to you earlier. Still, she’s unsure whether or not you’re only acting innocent so we need to wait for her decision.” She shrugged, as if it wasn’t a big deal.

“Are you kidding me? You’re going to let an innocent person get hurt or even killed because of your leader? Fuck, Yoohyeon! It’s my life on the line here.” This was ridiculous, you just had to raise your voice in frustration.

“Shut up. Yelling won’t fix anything.” One sentence was enough for your eyes to fill with tears again. You hated the woman in front of you, with your whole heart you despised her. “My life’s on the line too, if you weren’t aware. Although, Jiu’d never hurt me. We just have to wait few more days and then we’ll know what’s coming.”

As she finished talking, Yoohyeon gently clapped both her thighs announcing that she was done.

“Eat up.” Her monotonous was back the second she got on her feet.

You couldn’t believe she was real, it was impossible for a human being to be so awful. Eating was now the last thing you could think of.

“You know I’m innocent, right?” Before she left, you asked in a small voice filled with a tiny bit of hope.

Yoohyeon then turned around to analyze your features. Her eyes watched you carefully for what seemed like eternity. She let herself stare at you for a moment longer before finally blinking and gulping. She looked away, you had no idea what was going on in her head.

When she reached out for the doorknob you felt a single tear wetting your right cheek. You were convinced that there was no rescue for you, no escape.

She let out above the whisper, but she knew you could hear her.

“I know.”

~ The next day ~

Despite trying your best to stay awake in a foreign, dangerous place, your eyes fell closed eventually. You were completely worn out and mentally exhausted. There were no windows in the room so you had no idea what time it even was and for how long you were asleep.

It was Jiu who woke you up this time.

“Wake up, sleepyhead.” She addressed you noticing your body laying on the cold floor. All your muscles were sore because of how uncomfortable your position was. Anxiously, you looked up at her smirking face. “Come on, we’ll have some fun somewhere else.”

With a gulp, you got onto your shaky legs. You had no choice but to follow her. Like a prisoner.

Few minutes later Jiu told you to take a seat on a wooden chair, as she sat down on the other side of the enormous desk. Interrogation began.

The leader kept showing you pictures, most of them being very graphic, but it was the first time you’d seen them. You had no idea who these people, victims were. Even after asking the same questions over and over again, Jiu didn’t believe you. Both of you felt like going crazy. You wanted to be free again and she didn’t really know what to do. Finally, after sighing tiredly, she took her phone and called someone. Jiu spoke shortly, her tone didn’t leave any room to argue.

When a tall, well-built woman came in, you had a hunch where everything was heading to. Especially since she was carrying a baseball bat. They wanted to torture you.

“Handong, look at these.” Jiu’s words made the woman approach the leader immediately. She stood behind her and was analyzing both pictures and documents on the desk.

That was your chance.

You quickly glanced at the massive door before making a decision. You needed to run away, fast.

As if electrified you jumped out of the chair ignoring Jiu’s mad calls and Handong running after you. There was no looking back, as you paced through the huge warehouse. By taking a few random turns, you managed to lose the woman following you. Luckily you found space with no people in it. The only minus was that you didn’t know where to go and what was truly ahead of you. Which is why you totally didn’t expect a sudden set of stairs leading to the basement.

With a groan, you fell down while probably twisting your left ankle. You had no more power in you, no more energy to run. The pain was too overwhelming. The only thing that came to your mind was hiding, so that no one could see you in that long hall.

You crawled behind a huge plastic box filled with some liquid and hid between it and the wall. If someone was using the stairs, they wouldn’t see you.

Then, all of the sudden, you heard two pairs of steps nearing. One from the above, running and another from down the hall - steady and slow.

“Hey! Have you seen that Karla girl?” This had to be Handong on top of the stairs, but who wsa she talking to?

“No, but try in the garage. I heard someone running there.” Yoohyeon.

Your eyes widened and you did everything you could not to make a sound. While holding your breath, you heard Handong running again in a different direction. You were praying that Yoohyeon would also go somewhere else and not notice you.

You remained quiet, just when you thought she was walking away, her face came into your view as she crouched beside you. In shock, you almost yelped but quickly covered your mouth with your hand. Short-haired was watching you with that unreadable expression before smiling amused.

“Watch out for the stairs next time, will you?”

So she knew it was you, but still told Handong to go somewhere else?

“What? Did you just keep me covered?” You couldn’t believe it.

“I know what I’m doing, okay?” Yoohyeon looked at you expecting an affirmation, one of her eyebrows raised. Simply, you nodded not trusting your own voice anymore. “Let’s go, I’ll bring you back to your room.”

It was very weird. Why would she do that when you were in the middle of talking to Jiu? Shouldn’t she bring you back to her leader?

Confused, you got up but was reminded of your injured leg. Yoohyeon saw you flinching with every step you took, but the moment she opened her mouth you protested.

“I’m fine.” Stubbornly, you followed her.

In response, Yoohyeon rolled her eyes and after two more meters of you still not catching up, she turned around. Wordlessly, she closed the distance between you two and lifted you in her arms. You were beyond speechless when she readjusted your body, making you wrap your arms around her neck in a hurry in order not to fall. She held you in a bridal carry method. Her grip really strong, she didn’t even look like she was struggling with all your weight on her.

“Why are you doing this?” You used the opportunity to study her face. Neutral and bored almost as always. That’s what made her so unpredictable. You never knew what she was thinking.

“Why are you so stubborn?” She asked back.

This time, you rolled your eyes.

You chose to stay quiet for the rest of the way. Truth be told, you kind of felt okay with Yoohyeon holding you like that. Almost safe. You enjoyed the leather material of her jacket and the feeling of her hair brushing against your hand as it bounced along with her steps.

Her smell was also nice, strong yet comforting. Finally, you couldn’t help but stare at her lips. They were so close, barely a breath away. Yoohyeon’s whole body was very warm. The contrast to the air and atmosphere around you.

With a deep sigh you hated to admit it, but you liked being this close to her. You wished you could stay like this for a long time.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.” Yoohyeon smirked at you, noticing how you were constantly ogling her.

“Very funny.” Your response was quiet and filled with sarcasm as your eyes narrowed in annoyance.

Since she didn’t appreciate your staring and teased you about it you rested your head against her shoulder, almost in the crock of her neck. Your breaths must have tickled her skin as goosebumps slowly appeared. You felt yourself smiling gently.

“You can get off now, you know.” Once again her voice was full of amusement. She just loved making fun of you, didn’t she? Although, you had no idea when you even managed to enter your room.

“Right.” Mumbling, you got on your own feet with a pained expression when your left leg hit the floor. Yoohyeon’s hand stayed on your waist in case you couldn’t find balance, for that you were grateful.

“Let me see it.” She helped you slowly sit down and examined your ankle. You gasped when she turned it in her hand a bit too fast. Nevertheless, her touches were gentle, it didn’t seem like she wanted to hurt you. She even apologized for grasping your leg too hard.

“It’s twisted, I’ll get some bandage. Don’t move it too much, okay?”

It’s not like you physically could.

Moments later, Yoohyeon came back with a bandage and a weird smile playing on her lips.

“What’s so funny?” You frowned when she began to wrap your ankle without a word. She was very delicate while helping you.

“Jiu and Handong are still looking for you.”

Are they dumb? Or is Yoohyeon the insane one?

After all, she’s incredibly brave to go behind her leader’s back like that.

“Are they going to hurt me for running away?” Fear present in your voice as you whispered.

“I’ll take care of it.” Yoohyeon said seriously, your eyes met briefly. It was her way of confirming and keeping her promise. Eye contact.

“I see you haven’t eaten yet?” With a glance at the unopened take-out bag, she finished wrapping your your leg. It felt slightly better already. “What food do you like then? Rice, chicken, pizza?”

“Pad Thai’s fine.”

“We’ll go once it’s all over.” Yoohyeon nodded while standing up.

“Are you asking me on a date?” You blurted out of blue. You had every right to be confused. With Yoohyeon nothing was certain.

“That’s for me to know and for you to...” With a light shrug, she turned around and left.

You shook your head and leaned against the wall. What world was she living in?

That was an excellent question.

~

Later that day Jiu visited you for the second time. She seemed to lack some of determination she’d had earlier.

“Yoohyeon twisted your ankle?” Was the first thing she said. Her eyebrows raised in disbelief, she looked comical almost.

You opened your mouth to protest, but were fast enough to catch up on what was going on.

“Yes.” You kept your head low in order not to give yourself away.

“That’s a bit weird of her.” Jiu admitted out loud before remembering what she came for in the first place. “Listen, Y/N.”

It was the first time she used your real name. Did she understand that you were not the one she was looking for?

“You’re in danger now. Karla changed her appearance on purpose so she has people who look like her. Which means that you can be targeted by many people.” You looked up to meet Jiu’s eyes. Her face was serious, but since she was warning you like this, it meant that she’ll let you go, right?

“However, just as much as you’re in danger- you’re also lucky.” Jiu sighed upon seeing your lost expression. “You’re lucky Yoohyeon likes you. She won’t let anybody hurt you.”

Now it all made no sense. It was ridiculous for the leader to even be saying such things.

“But she twisted my ankle.” Unsure, you argued causing dark-haired woman to chuckle.

“She lied straight in my face about twisting your leg. I saw how you fell down the stairs on cameras and Yoohyeon still chose to lie about you. You’ll be safe with her.” Something on Jiu’s face changed. Now, she looked like she was having a conversation with a friends or something. Almost like she was giving advises to someone close to her.

Your tongue was tied. You had so many things to ask her, yet you didn’t know where to start.

“A-Aren’t you mad?”

“At her or at you?” Catching you off guard, Jiu sat down next to you.

“Both?” You honestly felt like everyone there was making an idiot out of you.

“I’ve known Yoohyeon since I can remember. I can tell right away when she’s lying or when she likes someone. It’s the first time she behaved like that, though. She’s never tried to protect someone so much.” You looked down feeling your cheeks warm up. “I’m not mad at her for that. I want her to be happy. I’m also not mad at you. Just frustrated, but nothing about it is your fault.”

You nodded acknowledging, but also appreciating her calm voice. Jiu seemed alright.

Now, you were feeling both excited and very nervous about meeting Yoohyeon again.

You had a lot to talk about.

~

While admiring the first sunset in the last few days you were waiting for Yoohyeon at the back of the old warehouse. Handong was the one who walked you outside. She helped you with the ankle and told you to wait few more minutes for the short-haired.

The second you heard steps coming your way, you turned around. Yoohyeon’s hair was bouncing as she walked towards you, her hands hidden in the pockets of her jacket.

“You up for some Pad Thai?” She asked with that damn smile.

After a nice evening out, she walked you home or more accurately carried on her back. Her strong hands were holding your thighs. Your arms were hugging her neck and you let your body press against her back fully.

“I like your perfume.” You shyly said.

It was now completely dark outside, but you weren’t afraid. Yoohyeon wouldn’t let anything happen to you. You knew that now.

“Thanks, it’s Gucci.” She giggled randomly making you laugh as well. You felt every vibration of hers. Every breath she took.

You wanted to stay close to her forever.

[billthedrake]

THE BOARDROOM (PART FOUR)

This chapter probably works better having read the previous ones.

ENGLISH AND ITALIAN TAILORING

I had been spending the winter taking some time away from The Boardroom gatherings. Some of it was giving Ethan his space and not trying to claim The Boardroom as my space, even if it kind of was. I knew my ex would flourish there, and at that point he needed it more than I did.

Besides, I was doing a lot of travel and work had been crazy busy. I had made sure to prioritize my gym and exercise time, as well as my diet. After that I didn't have a lot of energy for anything else.

I enjoyed a lot of masturbation time, for sure. I experimented with watching non-suit porn. I got off to a lot of it, but generally enjoyed going back to the tried and true suit scenes.

The Boardroom had a series of gatherings that didn't do it for me. Power Suit Night. Vests Night. Sheer Socks Night. Fashion Week. I declined at each RSVP and gave other guys a spot.

I even missed the semi-annual Executive Board Meeting, since I was out of town for work. But I was pleased to hear from Ethan that he'd been promoted to Junior Executive. His new suits and regular attendance in my absence had paid off.

Now I realized I was due to host. And maybe it was the increasingly spring weather, but my libido was bouncing back like crazy. A Boardroom party sounded like just the thing. And I had my English-tailored pinstripe suit waiting to make its debut.

I sent out the email:

"Hello Gentlemen of the Boardroom - Next meeting is devoted to English and Italian tailoring. Priority to the men with the real deal. Soft shoulder or English draping. Slim silhouette or waist suppression. RSVP English or Italian wear. Waitlist of others who appreciate European tailoring. Men not in English or Italian clothing can wear only accessories at the Boardroom this time."

"That's genius, Bill," Ken wrote, with his RSVP for Italian.

Marty had an Italian sport coat and trousers, which was good for me.

Kevin was the only other exec to RSVP, but didn't have an outfit.

But the Junior Execs and New Hires came through. Darren said he'd wear an English suit. I wasn't surprised to hear he was the only other regular with one but as it happened, an Interviewee was visiting from England and expressed interest.

John was a Junior Exec I'd not seen too much lately. After his promotion, he'd started dating someone exclusively. I guessed that was now a thing of the past, since he responded that he had an Italian suit he'd love to wear. One the Newer Hires, another Mike - Mike 2 - chimed in that he had just come back from a destination wedding in Italy and had something appropriate.

I didn't want Kevin to be the only one in just accessories, so I admitted another non-suit wearing guy, a New Hire, Rick.

Since it had been a while since I hosted, I splurged on a nice suite at the Four Seasons Downtown. I normally channeled my spare money into attire, not hotel rooms, but I figured I had saved money by not going on dates the last half a year.

I showed up early and got everything ready. Setting out lube, towels and spare tissues, along with some glasses of water to help with clean up.

Mike - Mike 2 as we called him since he's joined since Doctor Mike - was the first to show up. I didn't really know him, but he was good looking, kind of a regular 30yo gay guy, fit in that New York way. But his suit made him look killer. Nice rounded shoulders, tan color that showed off his brown hair and blue eyes.

"God, fuck, that's a nice suit, Bill," he said as he walked into the suite. I stepped back and let him get a look. Yeah, I was proud of this one. It was British tailoring, definitely, but I'd chosen a fabric and silhouette that wouldn't look too out of place in New York. I'd paired it with a pink shirt with a spread collar, a windsor knot on my repp tie, and for shoes I went with my Edward Greens.

"Thanks," I said. "You're looking amazing... nice introduction, I'd say."

"Agreed," he smiled. I could tell he was throwing hard in his suit, which I loved. I mean, all of us guys in the Boardroom had the kink, but some men just really embraced the horniness of a good suit. Mike cocked a grin. "We should probably wait for the others to fool around?"

"We don't gotta," I said. And like that, I stepped up and ran my hand along his shoulder, the light-weight wool perfectly molded to his strong delts. His hand went right for my crotch, working up my boner in my trousers.

We kissed. It was a hungry, horny kiss as our hands took in each other's suit.

Just then a knock came. I laughed as I broke up the impetuous make out session with Mike. Marty was there, with beefy Mark. Marty's sport coat was great, but maybe paled in comparison to Mike's full-on suit. Mark was in casual clothes, but as he came in, he began removing everything but a pair of socks and sock suspenders. On his meaty build, the look was pretty damn hot, especially because his cock filled out to full staff showing off for us.

Darren arrived next. He had more that English country gentleman look, the brown-green plaid looking incredible with his tall lean frame and chocolate-brown skin. Marty was already pawing at the coat and trousers. He and Darren always had some chemistry, and the English attire was drawing the man like a moth to a flame.

Over in one corner of the suite, nearly-naked, beefy Mark was on his knees, sucking Mike in full suited attire.

I enjoyed watching, squeezing my crotch, then I decided to join the action, stepping up to Mike and smiling at the cute guy. "He's good, huh?" I asked.

Mike nodded. "Why don't you pull your dick out and see for yourself." OK, Mike 2 had a domish edge that surprised me.

I grinned, reaching down to do just that. "Oh I've had his mouth," I said. I wagged my hard cock in Mark's direction and nudged it against his cheek. The guy got the picture.

"It's been a while, Bill," he said, looking up from my dick and up to my face.

"Yep," I replied. "Why don't you show me what I've been missing."

"Fuck yeah," he hissed. Mark loved sucking dick. The more the better, in his book. I grunted as I felt that talented mouth descend on my pole. It had been way too long since I'd come to Boardroom night.

Mike laughed as he watched my reaction. I looked at him and I felt that magnetic charge again. We kissed and I felt his hand run along my lapel. I was getting way too into this, but thankfully Mark pulled off and started blowing Mike. I pulled back from the kiss and looked over at the other guys.

Kevin was here now, and was on all fours on one of the beds next to Marty. Both men had their trousers pulled down and were making out while Darren went back and forth, slowly fucking in full country-estate wear.

And I noticed that Rick had arrived. I gathered he was a finance guy, from his demeanor and previous attire. But he didn't have on any clothing now, not really, given my accessories-only stipulation. And damn, the dude had a body that wouldn't quit. Ripped and toned, not huge but densely muscular build for his 5'10" body. It was an Ethan-caliber body, and the realization made me shiver a bit. Before Ethan, my taste had run fit-normal. My ex Kevin.... my Boardroom crush Pete. Regular NYC guys, my age.

Maybe it was silly to go for perfect, but it was fun to watch as Rick strutted over in just his over-the-calf socks, English-made tan oxfords, a tie tied around his neck and an expensive Swiss watch on his wrist. The only thing keeping him from being porn-star material was a smaller than average dick, which was still pretty damn appealing in its rock-hard spike as he walked over.

"Hey," he greeted, giving me a nod, but his attention more on Mike 2.

"Hey Rick," Mike grinned. They'd clearly met before. And maybe more.

They kissed.

"Nice suit, bro," Rick hissed, now running his hand along Mike's front. It was fun to watch the spark of sexual chemistry between these two late-20s guys, but yeah, I was gonna get left out.

Mark had even started sucking Rick's bone, taking advantage of the smaller size to really go to town on it. Meanwhile, Mike and Rick made out taking some breaks so Mike could watch his Boardroom buddy admire his new suit.

I should have just left them but it was hot to watch. So I stroked and stood near. Mark had gone back to Mike's bigger cock. It was hot to see him kneeling in his socks and sock suspenders, the hairness of his legs a contrast to the sheer sock fabric. Rick arched his back and I could then see that Mike had his hand wedged back into his ass, fingering and playing around with Rick's hole.

"I wanna use that ass, man," Mike grunted.

Rick nodded and like that, Mike was pushing Mark off his dick. The two didn't even acknowledge me and Mark as they made their way over to the spare bed.

"Sorry, Bill, looks like you're stuck with me," Mark said as he stood up. His dick was hard and leaking. Even if I wasn't a huge socks fetishist, I had to admit the sock garters looked great on his beefier build. Kind of that feminine/masculine contrast.

I flashed him a smile. "A-OK with me," I replied politely. "It's been a while since we connected here."

He nodded, stepping up. We didn't kiss. Partly because that wasn't Mark's MO - he was all about cock - but partly because we didn't have that natural chemistry. Still, his hands were on my suit coat.

"You have a really incredible suit," he said. "It really should be getting more attention."

He was right. About the suit, maybe, but in particular about what I was feeling wistful about. Maybe I was becoming one of the respected founding executives. A man with a great suit but not so imminently fuckable, you know?

"Wanna give it some attention?" I smirked.

I let Mark feel me up, and I got off on his near naked body in contrast to my suited one. It was fun, seeing him sensually touch the fabric and massage my body beneath it. But eventually his goal was clearly.

"OK if I suck you?" he asked.

I nodded. "Yeah, that'd be hot."

This was more transactional. I had a big dick and Mark loved to suck. This is what a sex party often was, if you stripped away the suit fetish. Two men just getting their rocks off.

And Mark was a good cocksucker. Not too fast but he knew how to work me up to a good cum before long. I held onto his head, not roughly but as a sign I was about to blast. The man moaned around my cock, telling me to let it rip. I did, blasting several hot rounds down his throat.

He milked me and worked the dribbles slowly before giving my dick a parting kiss. "I love sucking off a man in a suit," he said, taking one last look before getting up. "OK if I go find another?" he asked.

"Have at it," I grinned, taking a seat to have a break. I knew I wouldn't have another in me, but I'd enjoy seeing the guys pair up in suits. Besides, since I was hosting, I couldn't really leave.

It didn't take Mark long to find another dick to suck. Darren had gone, and Marty was getting slowly fucked by newcomer John, in a navy Italian suit. But Kevin was alone, like me watching the action while he stood in an Italian sport coat and tie, naked from the waist down. Mark got right into to place and started sucking while Kevin watched the other guys.

I looked over at the other bed. Mike 2 had clearly gotten off inside Rick and the two were on the bed, making out as a third guy in a full navy suit was now on top of Rick, working his way inside the hunk. I take it was the English guy, the Interviewee.

I watched them fuck. It was an amazing sight. The English lad had his trousers pulled down mid-thigh so I could see some of his dimpled ass flex as he thrust into the hot finance bro beneath him.

Mike 2 lay beside them, his dick now retreated back into his crotch but his eyes still showing excitement as he ran his hands up and down the English guy's coat. I don't know that his suit was overly high-quality but the English tailoring was novel, and the wool fit his form like a glove.

I turned over to see Kevin's eyes on the live sex show. These Boardroom meeting were 50 percent clothing fetish and 50 percent old fashioned sex party. Well, maybe it started out as 80/20, but increasingly it felt there was a moment like this, where some pairing would become the center of attention.

Kevin's brown eyes met mine in recognition. He was my ex from my early 30s, and to this day we had a kind of telepathy. He was thinking the same thing as me, and he was getting turned on. I watched the guy as he humped into Beefy Mark's mouth and started cumming.

It was a great spectacle to watch. I didn't really have the hots for Kevin these days, but his love of suited sex still could get me going.

The only bad thing was I missed the English guy's orgasm. He was sliding off the bed and hiking up his trousers while he fetched a spare cloth to clean off his hard uncut prick still jutting up from a creamy white midsection.

"Heya," he greeted as he walked over to me, tucking in and buckling back up.

"Hi," I said. "You must be Gavin."

"Indeed I am," he said. He reminded me of English Ben who I met at a Boardroom party and whom I reconnected with on my last trip to London. "Great party."

"Thanks," I said. "Great to have newcomers. You visiting New York?"

Maybe because we'd both gotten off, it felt fine to be chatty. The guy picked up a water bottle for a swig. "Yah, here on work, but added a couple days for holiday."

"Glad you could come," I said. "You were fun to watch." OK, maybe I was being flirty, and maybe I had a weakness for the accent.

"Thanks." He grinned and took another sip. I could tell he was flattered but that I wasn't his type. "I'm going to get going. But OK if I reach out again, next time I'm in town?"

"Absolutely," I said. And I watched Gavin leave the suite.

In fact, the guys pretty much were filing out pretty quickly. I didn't expect anyone to stay over, but as Rick and Mike 2 left together, with a clear chemistry between them, I kind of wished I wasn't going to spend the night in this hotel suite alone.

SUSPENDERS NIGHT

"Sorry I didn't make the party, Bill," Ethan said in our Monday workout. I was up to two sessions with him a week. No more comped ones - I paid him the full fee, though I gathered he socked some of that away in a special savings account dedicated to his clothing habit. It was wild to see a guy like him, young and athletic, embrace the suit fetish lifestyle. I sometimes wonder if that was New York, the way it nurtured a subculture like ours. Elsewhere Ethan certainly would have gotten off on suited men but maybe it wouldn't have developed for him like it did.

I set down the dumbbells he had me lifting. I gave him a friendly but direct look. "It's working out best that we keep to separate parties I suppose."

He nodded in agreement, then added. "I know. It's just, I guess that's the first Boardroom meeting you've hosted since I've joined. I feel bad for not going."

I felt a twinge of something. Regret, guilt, sadness, all rolled into one. But I tried to keep a poker face. "Like I say, Ethan, it's OK. For real."

He seemed to be trying on his poker face too. "I didn't have any English or Italian suit to wear anyway."

I grinned and Ethan knew why. That meant he'd have been mostly naked. That was kind of our thing when we were an item, and fortunately he laughed.

"Yeah you wouldn't have minded that," he said. I don't know, somehow the flirting helped break the tensions some. He set me up on the cable machine for the next set and said quietly, "I have been saving up for some proper English shoes."

"Yeah?" I asked. Ethan was a big foot/shoe guy, so it wasn't a surprise.

He nodded. "I know you'd advise against it, Bill, you know focus my money elsewhere, but it's what's gonna make me happy."

"You should go for it, Ethan. Splurge on those bad boys." I did my set, which was harder than I expected. In his own laid back way, Ethan was really pushing me today. I stepped back after and continued my thought. "You know I don't have to approve of your purchases... I mean, I hope you don't think I'm controlling."

He shrugged. "Not controlling. More, I just... well, you were kind of a mentor to me, and you still are... I don't want to think I don't respect your advice."

"My advice is to enjoy the hell out of your new shoes."

Ethan laughed. "I don't have 'em yet, Bill."

"Is this a way of saying your going to raise your rate on me?" I teased.

His eyes twinkled. God he was a cute fucker. "Nah.... but if you ever feel like squeezing an extra session in...."

"Let's do it," I said.

That surprised Ethan. "I was just kidding, Bill. I didn't mean..."

"I know. But it'll be good. Ethan's shoe fund. And an extra installment on my beach bod plan."

"If you're sure," he said.

"As long as you can work around my schedule," I said. Work had been pretty hectic lately.

"I will," he said. His whole posture was more confident now. I think it was the excitement of getting his shoes, but something else.

He put me through the paces for a few more sets and as we were wrapping up, he pulled out his phone to schedule my third session for the week.

"You sure, Bill?" he asked.

"Sure I'm sure."

He smiled and we figured out a good time. Then, as I was about to head to the locker room to change, Ethan asked in a low voice. "You going to suspenders night?"

This was George's turn at hosting and he'd put out a call for suspenders/braces. The great thing about the idea was how open it was to different clothing styles.

"I was thinking about it," I said. "But if you're going..." I hadn't explicitly made an agreement with Ethan to avoid the meetups he went to, but it was clear that I did.

"I want to," he said. "But you don't have to say no on my account. I think we've been pretty mature about stuff."

We had. Ethan especially. I was the one who'd called things off, and he seemed to get back on his game just fine. I gathered that he might not be dating anyone serious but he was getting back into the dating scene. Good for him.

"I guess, so," I said.

***

It had been too long since I fucked Pete. But when he showed up at the Boardroom Meeting and we made eye contact, we just knew the chemistry was still there. We played with some of the other guys - Mike 1, the young doctor, who was in his trad element, and Rob, who was in a really fucking nice suit - subtle pinstripe, bengal stripe shirt, and solid gaberdine tie. Unlike me the guys had showier suspenders - Rob's beneath his suit coat, Mike and Pete showing off their suspenders in shirt sleeves. Pete had white cuffs on an oxford stripe shirt, which was a nice vintage touch. His body was pretty fantastic in it too.

He had some group kissing and stroking and BJ swapping before Pete and I took the arrival of George to pull away from the guys to take to the bed.

Ethan was on the other bed, in just his dress shirt and tie, as Tom Stephenson lie on top of him, fully clothed and kissing and thrusting into my ex. That somehow ignited my jealousy, but I pushed that thought right back down. I was going to be the grown up.

Besides Pete was way hot. He was pulling off his suspenders and undoing his trousers. Turning around he shucked his pants and got into doggy position. I was very grateful at that moment that Pete's husband let him come into the city to play on occasion. And a little mad at myself for the idea I'd love to steal the guy away.

I got in place and started munching Pete's hole. Nice and clean, it seemed to suck my tongue in. It had been too long for him, too, I knew. I took my time, taking a pause now and then to admire his ass and to lube my dick up. But pretty soon, my cock ached to fuck. I crawled up onto Pete's body, feeling the heat between his shirt and mine as I pushed my dick into place.

"Please Bill," he hissed, at a volume only I could hear.

His hole was perfectly tight as I entered him. But the excitement was all of Pete. His perfectly meaty bod, his handsomeness, his clothes. How much he wanted me. Maybe I was going too hard and too fast but Pete bucked against me a couple of times to give me the green light. I took it. My humping got harder and faster as I kissed along his neck, smelling his cologne and feeling his shirt color against my cheek.

I was getting hot, too hot in my suit, but that also fed my lust. I shot, hard.

"Yes," Pete sighed, now pulling at his dick while I did my best to keep pushing in and other. Not as fast or urgent, but the slow stroke was probably better for his pleasure.

I felt the man get his orgasm beneath me, and I gave him another, final kiss of appreciation to the neck.

We uncoupled and enjoyed embracing and making out in our clothing. I was aware other guys were having fun around us, and a part of me wanted to show Ethan I could have some fun too.

Finally, Pete pulled back and gave a wistful smile. "I gotta get going." By now, some were leaving the party, and I'd lost track of time.

"Yeah," I said. I was hard again now, and my cock was sticking out. I wasn't usually good for getting off twice at one of these gatherings, but it had been a few days since I'd cum, and being with Pete had me amped up.

Pete reached down and grabbed my hardon, stroking it and admiring how it jutted out of my suit trousers. "Want me to take care of this before I go?"

I did, but I also wanted some more time to recharge. "Nah," I said. I leaned in and placed my mouth at his ear. "But fucking you was perfect," I whispered. "I missed being in you."

I felt his body shiver, and I felt bad. I was pushing the envelope and maybe enjoying doing that too much.

He pulled away. His own dick was firm and he did the work of tucking it in as he sat up in bed. He gave me a once over as he shook his head. "Great seeing you, Bill," he said.

I tried to apologize non verbally, patting his shirt-clad back. "I'll let you go," I said softly.

"Another kiss?" he asked.

I met him for just that.

When he finally left I was rock hard. George and one of the New Hires, Matt, were making out on the bed, caught up in their own connection. I thought of joining them, but didn't want to impose or be the third wheel.

Just then, I saw Ethan walk out of the bathroom, face flushed. He'd put his suit back on, suspenders and all, and retied his tie. He had a sheepish, shy look on his face, until he saw my boner jutting out and then he broke into a grin.

I couldn't help but laugh in response. We'd been trying to compartmentalize things, but here we were now, face to face, the sexual activity of the evening apparent.

Ethan's brown eyes met mine, searching for permission. I'm not sure if I gave it to him, or he was going to wait for it. He took a couple of steps forward and then crouched in front of me. My dick twitched as he did and Ethan took in the sight with a smile. I thought he was going to suck me right then and there but instead he scooted back and leaned down further. Kissing one shoe, then the other. I'd warn some brogued cordovan Aldens and Ethen sucked in the smell of the leather before licking.

"Fuck," he hissed, as he used his tie to wipe off the spit. I could sense how turned on he was to be able to indulge his shoe fetish. To my knowledge none of the Board members, at least the regulars, were into that. Ethan knew I wouldn't mind him having some shoe play, and would even get off on his horniness.

"Jesus, guys, you're getting kinky," I heard George say.

He and Matt were now lying back in bed, their clothes dishelved and their bodies clearly ih post-coital relaxation.

I saw Ethan flinch and blush. I gave him a soft pat on the shoulder and looked back up at the other guys. "It's something I've wanted to try," I lied.

George nodded. "Well, Matt here's big into wristwatches. Can't keep his eyes off this baby," he said, holding up his arm, sporting an expensive watch.

Matt blushed some, and I felt bad, like this should be the place where guys could just enjoy their kinks. I gave a reassuring smile. "I bet you'd like a wristwatch theme night, huh?" I asked Matt.

"Fuck yeah," he grinned. The guy was younger, maybe a few years older than Ethan, and cute. Professional gay guy who get to let loose some at these events.

My hardon had flagged by that point and Ethan had stood up. The spell was broken. "I'll probably get going," I announced as I tucked in and zipped up. I did my best to make myself presentable. I turned to Ethan. "You staying?"

It was a question laden with a lot of possibilities and I could Ethan trying to read me with his eyes. I reached behind him and tapped his suited ass. A quick gesture, but he knew I was up for fooling around.

Without missing a beat he turned to the other guys. "I think I'll head out too. It was a great Meeting, George," he said. "One of the best."

George grinned. He placed his arm around Matt. George was always after new meat and had a preference for younger guys. I had the feeling the two were going to enjoy the night together.

"Seriously, Matt," I said as I picked up my phone and slid it into my suit pocket. "We'll think about the watch idea. We haven't done that before." The guy gave a smile.

We bid good night, and Ethan and I walked silently to the elevators, smiles on our faces as we fed off our lust.

"What are we doing, Boss?" he asked. I could tell he was afraid to pose the question, but someone had to think with his head and not his dick.

The door opened and we got in. There were other people in, so Ethan and I rode down in baited breath, silent.

We were out on the street before I spoke. "If it's just fun, I'll deal with that," I said. "But I want to be your boyfriend, Ethan. For real."

That caught him off guard. "What about just now? With Pete?" he asked softly. I could tell he was as jealous to see me with Pete as I was with Tom. Maybe more.

"I don't know what to say," I said. "I mean, it was the Boardroom."

He shrugged. "You guys have a thing. Everyone knows it, Bill."

I thought about it. Thought about why I felt a connection to Ethan so soon after having sex with Pete. "It's only because Pete and I never actually dated. But say the word I won't so much as lay a hand on him."

I saw a smile form on Ethan's lips as he looked over at me. "You're serious, aren't you?"

I nodded, feeling vulnerable because I was overcome by how suddenly my revelation had hit me. I knew I'd suppressed a lot of my feelings for Ethan. "I was an asshole before. But I miss you Ethan."

His face got a real emotional seriousness. "Can I kiss you, Boss?"

I nodded. And right there in the middle of the sidewalk we kiss. Softly, just a little tongue.

"Damn," I said.

"Yeah," Ethan sighed. He ran his fingers along my lapel. I knew we'd go home and have some amazing suit sex, and that made the emotional part of this even more powerful. "You know, when you stood up for me earlier... for the shoe thing... that was kind of great."

I winked. "I like how you show me new things, stud." I patted his shoulder. "You wanna head to my place and have some shoe play?"

He shook his head. "How bout my place, Bill? You never come over there."

There was a reason for that. Ethan lived in a tiny walk up apartment. But it was time for me to give as well as take. "All right," I said.

***

Ethan's place was tidy but pretty fucking small. But there was no place I'd rather be at that moment. He lay on the floor on a yoga-workout mat, in his Brooks Brothers charcoal suit and striped shirt, paisley pocket square and wool tie, his hard dick sticking out of his crotch. I slowly, teasingly ran my shoe along his boner as he looked up at me hungrily.

"God, Bill," he hissed.

My own dick was out of my suit pants again, sticking out straight, but I wasn't doing anything with it. I was enjoying giving Ethan his jollies.

"You like that leather," I said. Half question, half comment.

"God yes," he said. "You think I'm messed up?" he half asked in return.

I shook my head. "Stud, if my shoes are what keeps you interested in me, that works for me."

He grunted as he watched me bend down to unlace my Aldens. "It's not like that," he objected.

I grinned and winked as I slid my shoe off. "If it is, that's OK, Ethan," I said. Then I knelt down, still fully in my suit and slid that cordovan Alden oxford over Ethan's erection.

"Shit," he gasped as his dick made contact with the interior leather.

I leaned in and kissed him, briefly. "This comfortable?" I asked as I slid it up and down.

He nodded. This was turning him on, a lot. "I'm gonna cum if you keep doing this," he said in a clipped voice.

"Do it," I instructed him.

Ethan's eyes grew wider as he met mine in silent sexual communication and his face grew redder. He was a cute and very hunky young man, and I was lucky I even had a chance with him. I was lucky that he was crushed out on me. And he only grew more handsome when he had his orgasm.

"UUUNNNMMMHFF!" he growled in release. Then falling back into a relaxed position, he broke into a smile. "Damn, that was incredible," he finally said.

I pulled off my shoe, trying not to overstimulate his prick. Normally, the first thing I'd be doing is cleaning it, but I not held it up and looked inside. Ethan had cum a lot and I could see his pearly seed drip down from the toe to the padded heel area. I shocked Ethan and shocked myself by bringing it closer, up to my face, and sticking my tongue in to taste his fresh seed.

"Fuck, Boss," he gasped. "No way am I going soft now," he said with a laugh.

I handed him my shoe. "Think this puppy will keep you turned on enough to let me fuck you?"

Ethan was younger than me and had more of a sexual stamina. But this was purely Ethan in overheated mode. He'd never had a man indulge his foot fetish like I was doing now. I watched as he excitedly reached down to undo his suspenders. I helped him take off his Allen Edmonds, plainer brown cap toes, then pull off his dark gray trousers. His dick was angry red and overstimulated but still hard.

"On the bed?" I asked. There was something fun and naughty about having sex on his bedroom floor, but I knew a mattress would be more comfortable than that thin mat.

We got up on the bed, and I met him for a kiss, deeper this time. I wasn't going to rush this, but I knew I had to be back inside Ethan, that evening. I'd be fucking on Tom Stephenson's sperm and god knows if anyone else's, but we could deal with that.

As Ethan wrapped his legs around my waist and I ran my cock around his hole, feeling the still slick traces of lube in his crack, I looked into his eyes.

"We'll figure out the Boardroom stuff, if you still wanna go," I said, a quiver in my voice. "But let me know what you need from me, Ethan."

He nodded, excited. "You, too, Bill." I could see in his face and hear in his voice the man's desire to be wanted. I hadn't given Ethan that before.

I pushed into him. His hole was relaxed and wet. And even if I was jealous of Tom Stephenson, I was glad for the extra lubrication. Ethan's hole felt nice and wet and snug against my thrusting prick, and the man was primed to take the urgency of my fuck.

I humped away, and Ethan looked up into my eyes and felt up my suit coat and tie. From the evening, I was sweating into my clothes and it would all need a good dry clean. It would be worth it.

"Faster, Boss," he urged. This wasn't about him, but rather his desire to see me get off.

I nodded to him, wordlessly communicating that I was close.

I had both hands on the bed, but I pulled one up to start feeling up Ethan's tie. He looked really fucking perfect in a repp tie. Clean-cut, masculine, like an athlete at an awards banquet or a small-town businessman.

I choked back my grunts but Ethan knew I was cumming hard. I powered my hips in and locked in place as I seeded him up. His words of encouragement as strong as the hands feeling up my suit.

I finally pulled out and let his legs to the side as I eased down on his suited body. We were maybe messed up that we needed to play dress up to have sex, but we were messed up together. This felt right.

I could even feel the guy's heart beat between our layers of clothing as his strong grip held me close.

"You're staying over the night, Bill," he said.

It was a bossy tone I'd only heard from him in the gym before.

"Yeah," I said. I pulled up and looked at him. His face was flush and his hair was a little mussed. "You ever slept in your suit?"

He seemed amused by the idea. "No. Have you?"

I shook my head no. "Might be fun, though... But maybe we can start with just shirt and tie."

Ethan was still hard, but after getting off a couple of times that evening he didn't seem eager to get off again. I watched him take off his coat and drop the undone suspenders. I slowly removed my suit, suspenders and trousers.

"Is this gonna mess up our ties?" he asked.

"Maybe," I said. "But at the worst we'll each have a play tie to add to the collection."

I let Ethan wash up first. "There's a spare toothbrush in the medicine cabinet," he offered when I stepped in. And once I was done in the bathroom, he had a glass of water to offer me.

"You sleepy?" he asked as we slid under the covers together, in our dress shirts and ties. I could feel his naked legs slip against mine and his genitals press against my crotch. This felt nice.

"Not really," I said. "Wanna stay up and talk?"

So that's what we did. We talked about dating and how it could work this time. What would need to be different, but what we missed about before.

"I don't want that easygoing part to go away, Bill," Ethan said. "Maybe things were too easygoing, but I like how you were my friend first."

"I still am," I assured him. "And you client," I winked. "You do good work."

He laughed. "Thanks. You needed to be whipped into shape," he quipped. It was bossy Ethan, and I knew it was a joke, but I still had to speak to the elephant in the room.

"Listen, I know you could find a guy with a much better body than mine."

He didn't miss a beat. "I want a body that looks great in a suit, Boss."

He didn't give me a chance to reply, he just leaned in for a kiss. I returned it and like that we were making out. It was about 1AM and I knew I didn't want this night to end. I felt Ethan's cock grow firm again against me and I loved the contrast between his hard nakeness and his clothed torso. Our shirts were now damp and our bodies warm.

Unbelievably, my own cock responded by firming up again.

"You wanting to get off?" I asked, running my hands over the bulging biceps in his shirt sleeves.

He thought for a second and shook his head. "Let's save it till morning, Bill."

"Sounds good," I said.

We kissed a little more and then got truly sleepy. As Ethan turned out the light, I realized I hadn't felt this giddy and excited in a long while.

[issuesdolly]

Jonathan Davis Protects You From Your Creepy Ex

Warning: Smut, foreplay, fingering, male/female sex, unprotected sex, p in v, finishing inside, edging. Mildly violent diaglogue (NOT IN A SEXUAL CONTEXT but in the dramatic context of the story where JD is confronting the ex-boyfriend).

#jonathandavis  #jonathan davis #korn #jon davis #fanfic #fanfiction #smut #fem reader #x reader #edging #edginganddenial #jondavis #romantic

Summary: You are Jonathan’s girlfriend. Your relationship has been going well for a long time. So far, it’s been you who has had to deal with jealousy/insecurity as so many people adore Jonathan. You & he trust each other, but for once, the shoe is on the other foot when your ex boyfriend reappears, trying to reconnect with you. Jonathan feels insecure and protective of you. You do your best to reassure Jonathan you didn’t intend to rekindle anything with your ex. At the same time, Jonathan spots your ex’s manipulative/stalkerish behavior before you do. Jon is not controlling of you, so he tries to stay out of it. When you and Jon realize your ex is aggressively creeping on you, you try to cut ties. Your ex won’t take a hint, so Jonathan has to step in.  

Preface: If you like pure NAUGHTY fanfics that get “straight to the point” (romance + sex with JD) feel free to check my others. I felt like there’s only so much I can do THOSE…I wanted to write something that includes more emotional/personal themes, although there’s DEFINITELY sex in this one haha. This fic was inspired by a moment in the Korn MTV Diary where JD talked about getting jealous/protective when his fiance got hit on/disrespected by a guy. My stories portray JD as super confident/sexy but in real life, he’s just a dude who can get insecure/protective of his girl as well. Wanted to explore that. This fanfic is also based on a true story from my life. Hope you enjoy it. 

Story: 

You and Jonathan are finishing dinner at one of your favorite out of the way Italian restaurants. He had reserved a private booth in the balcony wing, away from people so your dinner wasn’t disturbed. However, you knew when you went downstairs, some people were bound to spot Jonathan. Sure enough, as the two of you held hands and walked downstairs, some people spotted him out. You decided to take this moment to head to the bathroom and let him deal with the swarm.  

“I’ll be right back, sweetie, bathroom,” you said, giving him a kiss on the cheek. 

“Ok, sorry about this,” Jon whispered to you, returning your kiss with a quick one on your lips. 

On your way back from the bathroom, you decided to hang back by the barstools instead of awkwardly standing next to him. You’d basically just be in the way as people tried to get their picture with him or have him sign something. Suddenly you felt a tap on the shoulder. Turning around, you couldn’t believe your eyes. It was your ex-boyfriend, Zane. 

“Zane? Is that you?” you said in shock.

“HI!!” Zane said, as his eyes lit up. 

He took a step towards you like he wanted a hug, but you took a step back. The two of you stood awkwardly smiling for a moment. 

“Wow, didn’t expect to see you here,” you blurted out. 

“Yeah! Didn’t expect to see you either! How are you?” Zane asked. 

“I’ve been good. You… you look so different!,” you admitted. During your relationship, Zane drank constantly and always looked run down. Currently, he looks far healthier. 

“Right? Well, I’ve been sober for the last year,” Zane boasted. 

“Oh man, I’m so happy to hear that. Seriously. Proud of you,” you said. 

“Thank you. I’m doing a LOT better,” Zane continued. “So you’re…. Still with Jonathan huh?” 

“You know about all that?” you asked, surprised. 

“Yeah, I mean…. I don’t follow his music. NOT my thing. But, your name and face pops up online with him enough that I- uh…. Took notice. Wow. Being with a celebrity. That must be a huge adjustment for you,” Zane said. 

“Yeah! It’s a lot. But he’s well worth it,” you state proudly.

You looked over at Jonathan as he stood awkwardly, trying to wrap up the schmoozing. Jonathan stole a glance at you. His big smile faded as he saw this guy standing rather close to you. Your smile faded also. It was like you could read his mind: “who the fuck is that standing with you?” 

Zane looked over at Jon with a shitty smirk on his face, before putting a hand on your shoulder. You turned back at Zane, surprised he just touched you. 

“Well! Good for you. I’m sure whenever you manage to get him to yourself, you guys have a nice time,” Zane said in a chastising manner. 

“Jon makes plenty of time for the two of us,” you retorted, while stepping away from Zane’s grasp. 

“You know, I’d love to catch up with you more sometime,” Zane said, boldly. 

Out of nowhere, you felt Jonathan standing next to you. Jon’s eyes bore into Zane as he stood there, wordlessly. 

“Jon! This is Zane, my uh…..” you said, trying to spit out the words “ex-boyfriend.” 

“Zane… yeah, I remember you mentioned a Zane….hello Zane…..” Jon said in a low, monotone voice. 

“Hey dude, nice to meet you,” Zane said, disingenuously. 

Jonathan just wordlessly nodded his head. Neither Jon, nor Zane outstretched a hand for a civil handshake. 

Jonathan hates fake “nice to meet you” pleasantries and fakeness in general. Instead, Jon stood still, head slightly tilted, with a dead face. He was staring HARD at Zane. Looking at your ex, Jonathan immediately recalled everything you had told him about Zane. Your 2-year relationship had been full of Zane manipulating and gaslighting you. When you and Jon discussed past relationships, it was definitely a topic that had made you break down crying. Jonathan had comforted you as you recalled the bad memories and reassured you he would NEVER treat you how Zane had. 

Jonathan was doing his BEST to be civil. However, it was hard for him to hold back anger, standing in front of the man who hurt you. You put your hand into Jonathan’s and Jon turned to face you. He could feel your palms were cold and sweaty. This situation was awkward for everyone involved. 

“Listen, we need to get going, but it was nice seeing you, Zane,” you said. 

“Yeah you too,” Zane said. 

You and Jonathan walked out of the restaurant. Jonathan, on his way out, stole a glance back at Zane. Zane gave Jon another shitty smirk and sly hand-wave goodbye. Jon’s eyes flared and he let out a huff/sniff, turning back around and heading out the door with you. 

The car ride back with Jonathan was damned awkward. You decided to break the silence by just confronting the situation head on: 

“Well that was really awkward. I’m sorry about that, Jon, I really didn’t expect to run into him” you said. 

“Yeah, I gotta say I always pictured him as a massive douche. He definitely lived up to my mental image,” Jon said quietly. 

“He’s sober now at least, so… hopefully he’s getting his life on track,” you said, trying to diffuse the conversation. 

Jonathan was silent, breathing angrily. Jon was baffled that after everything Zane had done to you, you cared about his well-being. He felt that you were WAY too forgiving. 

Eventually Jon broke the silence. “Yeah well, I get it, I was a mess before I got sober. But…. people can only change so much,” Jon said, reflecting. 

The two of you got home and went inside. You went into the kitchen. You had skipped dessert at the restaurant and felt like having some yogurt or something. You were taking your time browsing the fridge when Jonathan slowly walked up behind you. He gently wrapped his hands around your waist and cradled your stomach through your dress. You were kind of taken aback, since he had been huffy and distant on the ride home. He gave you a gentle kiss on the cheek and held you close. 

You gladly accepted his embrace. “Whatcha looking for?” Jon said as he kissed your cheek and neck. “Ummmm… just… a little dessert…” you said slowly, getting lost in the sexy sensation of his tender kisses. He wrapped you closer in his arms and started giving you a slow, open mouth kiss on the neck. You melted in his arms. He always knew he could seduce you easily if he started nibbling and licking your ears and neck. He left slow kisses on your neck and moved them down your shoulder, pulling the hem of your dress down slightly so he could kiss and lick more of your shoulder. 

“DAMN!” you blurted out, genuinely surprised that Jonathan had suddenly launched into all this. Jon pulled you into him more and pressed his front against your backside, giving you a tight embrace and grinding into you. You lost your balance slightly, getting immediately turned on. 

“What’s all THIS?” you asked, with genuine curiosity. Jon didn’t usually randomly attack you with kisses/seduction like this. 

“Mmmm, I don’t know, you just look beautiful. I had to come get you,” Jon said in a low, sexy voice. 

“My god… well… I guess dessert can wait,” you said while giggling. 

“I’ve got some dessert for you,” Jon said in a dirty voice, before reaching up your dress and sliding his hands under it until he reached your pussy. He took two fingers and started slowly, tenderly, rubbing your clit through your panties. You were going insane. You moaned and let him continue at this for several minutes while he slowly rocked you in his arms.

You slowly turned to face him. His eyes looked absolutely NEEDY and overwhelmed with lust. You leaned in for a big kiss and he immediately returned it, hungrily. He pushed you forward, slipping his tongue into your mouth. The two of you lost your balance against the fridge door, which was still standing wide open. You felt yourself start to fall against the fridge shelves. 

“Ahhh!! Shit!” you giggled, as Jonathan gripped you and stopped you from falling backwards.

Jonathan started laughing also, realizing how klutzy this moment was. 

“Let’s take this somewhere else,” Jon said with a smirk, pulling you away from the fridge. You shut the door and speed-walked to the bedroom together as he touched you all over along the way. 

When you reached the room, Jon quickly faced you, kissing you deeply and hungrily. He picked you up by the thighs and off the ground. You wrapped your legs around his torso and moaned into his mouth. He carried you to the bed and gently placed you down, kissing down your body and wasting no time reaching up under your dress and sliding your panties off. You watched him in awe, confused by his sudden mood shift. He crushed your panties in his hand and gave you the dirtiest smirk, taking a moment to push them against his face and smell them. You loved how freaky he was and you both giggled. He tossed the panties away and started planting kisses on your legs, working his way up your thighs. Jon slowly crawled on top of you. You held his hair and lay underneath him, wondering why he had suddenly decided to make love to you like this. 

The truth was, the incident at the restaurant had left him feeling insecure. Maybe a bit possessive. Seeing your ex touch you and try to reconnect left him feeling desperate to do SOMETHING to pamper and satisfy you. To remind you how much he still wants you and perhaps, to STOP you from even THINKING about your ex. 

Jon locked eyes with you as he slowly took his lips off your mouth.

 “Mmmm..tell me what you want, baby,” he said in a quiet, sexy voice. 

You giggled, “Ha! Uh- I mean, YOU started this. I don’t know!!” you said. 

“Hmmmm… well let’s start here,” Jon said in a low, sweet voice. He pushed a hand between your legs and gently parted them, reaching under your dress and gently rubbing/fingering you. You shut your eyes and moaned as he massaged and teased inside your pussy while giving you a long, deep, open mouth kiss. He moved his kisses to your neck and ears while fingering you, leaving you WEAK. You just lay there LOVING it. Jon kept this up for a good long time until you felt like you were already getting close to coming. Jon slowly removed his fingers from you. He locked eyes with you, smiling, before licking his fingers clean. Your eyes lit up and you gave him a huge smile and giggle as you watched him.  

Jon knelt next to your face and whispered “you always taste so fucking food,” right into your ear. You moaned and started grabbing his waist, parting your legs more for him. You’d had MORE than enough foreplay and you REALLY needed him to fuck you now. He quickly sat up, unbuckling his pants and taking them off along with his boxers and whipping his T-shirt off while you removed your dress. He quickly climbed back on top of you and immediately pushed into you as the two of you moaned. You noticed he was being unusually slow and tender with his movement tonight. Slow, sensual, delicious, pumps into you. This was not some quick, fun, aggressive fuck. He was REALLY determined to make love to you for a long time tonight. It felt amazing, and although you still wondered WHY, your mind was clouding over with pleasure. 

You moaned louder and louder as he took his time, slowly pushing deep into you and making you feel as good as possible. He kept kissing you all over while gradually letting his pumps pick up speed. Jon was driving you CRAZY as he continued licking and love biting your neck and ears. Your pussy was quivering and you knew you were going to come extremely hard, and SOON. Jonathan pumped harder and faster in response to you as your moans increased. You were getting so close. He let out a groan of pleasure watching you. Out of nowhere, he spoke. 

“Baby… mmfff… baby, look at me!” he whispered.

Your eyes had been shut with pleasure, but you opened them to look at him. His eyes stared hard into yours. You smiled at him weakly while moaning, your orgasm approaching. 

“I love you,” Jon whispered solemnly while stroking your hair and pumping into you. 

You were a bit taken aback. You knew he loved you. But him saying it so solemnly like this, DURING sex, was unusual. But you weren’t going to question it. 

“I love you too Jon!” you said with a hazy smile on your face as your orgasm approached. 

His big, expressive eyes lit up with love/lust and he kissed you hard one more time before pumping nice and hard into you. His dick pressed against just the right spot inside you. 

“Ahhhh!!!…..  Fuuuu!!!” you cried out. He felt SOOO good. You couldn’t handle it and started coming VERY hard. You let out a scream/moan and started shaking, holding his neck and gripping his hair as he ground his dick into you. He moaned against your neck and kept licking and kissing you while you came. This was DEFINITELY the best orgasm you had with him in recent times. You kept coming, shaking in his arms as he left his dick deep inside you, slowly moving it in and out, letting you ride your climax hard. As you slowly came down and caught your breath, he looked right into your eyes again, still inside you.

“You’re so fucking beautiful baby,” Jon complimented as he stroked your hair. “I love watching you cum….so pretty” he whispered. 

Again, you were taken aback. Him telling you all this DURING sex was a bit unusual. But again, you didn’t question it. 

“You- fu…..You’re….the sexiest fuckin man alive,” you complimented in return while giggling. “Holy shit, I came so hard,” you said, still trying to catch your breath. 

“Mmmmff… GOOD,” Jon said with a beaming smile. “My turn,” he said, losing his composure and moaning against you. You yelped and moaned loudly as Jon picked up speed again. He began fucking you with incredible intensity. Again, you were stunned. It was like he was REALLY hungry for you tonight. He made loud, honest, unrestrained noises. You just watched him in awe before shutting your eyes again. His orgasm hit him FAST and he moaned LOUDLY. You felt his cum spurt inside you with a good deal of force as he whimpered and gasped. You felt the warm gush of it start to slowly leak out of you as he kept coming. 

As he finally finished, he gently leaned into you and kept kissing you AGAIN. He was REALLY into kissing you tonight. After some slow, tender post-climax kissing, he finally climbed off of you and flopped next to you in bed…. totally spent. As you both caught your breath, he turned towards you, pulling your naked body tightly against him. You felt weak and exhausted in his arms. This had definitely been a “love making” session. Not some kind of playful fuck. 

Jon pushed your damp hair out of your face and stroked your forehead before saying AGAIN, “I LOVE you,” in a solemn whisper. 

“I love you too,” you whispered, earnestly. “So much,” you continued, while nuzzling his face. The two of you were so tired, you gradually fell asleep in that position, listening to one another breathe. 

The following day you woke up VERY groggy. You opened your eyes and saw Jon in a deep sleep next to you in bed. Plenty of light was shining into the room and you guessed the two of you had slept in until at least the afternoon. You slowly rolled over and grabbed your phone, sitting up in bed. Sure enough, it was 3pm. You two always stayed up most of the night and slept in (kindred vampires) but he definitely kept you up even longer last night. Groaning and wiping your eyes, you crawled out of bed and threw on a nightgown (you were still naked). You crawled back into bed to relax and started checking stuff on your phone.  Pushing your matted hair out of your face, you remembered last night. You definitely needed a shower. 

Though you try to not obsess over social media, it always ends up being the first thing you check. You opened Instagram, seeing the sweet likes/comments on a recent picture of you and Jonathan that you had shared. It wasn’t an ego thing necessarily but you loved seeing well-wishes from people. Next, you opened Facebook. The first thing you noticed was a friend request….. From Zane. You were quite shocked. You looked over at Jonathan, who was still sleeping naked. His upper body was exposed and the blankets covered his lower half.  He looked sexy, adorable and peaceful in his deep sleep. You remembered just how amazing last night was. 

Then, you looked back at your phone. So much time had passed since you had been with Zane. His profile pic had a woman standing next to him in a cute, couple’s pose. You figured he was in a relationship. Assuming both you and he had moved on and there would be no weirdness, curiosity killed the cat. You hit ‘accept’ and looked at his page. He had new photos of him from the gym, and several with this woman. Scrolling his feed, there were updates about his sobriety and kudos from friends/family. Pictures of him traveling and hiking with friends. It did make you happy to see his life had improved. Maybe you WERE too forgiving, but you didn’t like to hang on to hate/grudges. 

Jonathan was pretty damn allergic to social media for a variety of reasons. Mainly, he doesn’t stand for internet bullying or the narcissistic side of social media. He’s also very aware of internet stalking. Jon grudgingly holds a few promotional social media accounts, mostly run by his management team. As you were scrolling through Zane’s pictures, Jonathan stirred beside you. He opened his eyes and looked at you. The two of you exchanged sleepy smiles. You were about to close your phone, but Jonathan was surprisingly energetic and quick to sit up in bed. He leaned in and gave you a big kiss on the mouth, leaving you no time to get rid of what was on your phone screen. His kiss was surprisingly passionate and you got lost in it. As Jonathan let you out of the kiss he nuzzled against your shoulder, sleepily moving his gaze towards your phone. 

“Oh shit,” was the only thought running through your head. If you rushed to shut off your phone screen or change the page, this would look even worse. Cringing, you allowed Jon to notice what was on your screen. Jonathan’s sleepy gaze slowly turned to realization, noticing who/what you were looking at. Before Jon could say anything, you confessed “I opened Facebook and Zane sent a friend request.” Jonathan slowly took his face off your shoulder, exhaling and tightening up… his demeanor changed from elated to pissed. He scooted away from you in bed and folded his arms, pulling up the blankets to cover his body.

“And let me guess, you accepted it?” Jon asked in a quiet voice.

“I was curious, I’m sorry,” you admitted. 

“Curious how the dick who stole 2 years of your life is doing? Fair enough,” Jon continued in a quiet, cold voice. 

“A LOT of time has passed. He- he seems like he’s changed a lot. AND he’s in a new relationship too! It’s just fucking FACEBOOK. I add a lot of people. You know that,” you said, lamely trying to defend yourself. 

“I gotta tell you…. Guys don’t do this unless they want something,” Jonathan said, shaking his head. 

“Want something?” you replied. 

“Yeah, I could tell,” Jonathan continued. “I saw it right away when he stood next to you last night. He wants a shot with you again,” Jon said, staring hard into your eyes. 

“Well he’s not gonna GET one, jeez!” you replied, truthfully. 

“I’m going to be real. As a dude. Take it or leave it, mkay?” Jonathan said while facing you and putting his hands on your lap. “Guys don’t want to be ‘buddies’ with their ex. Guys don’t usually want to be ‘FRIENDS’ with women in general! If you give Zane an inch, he’s gonna take a mile and keep trying. And YOU? You’ve ALWAYS been too nice with this dickwad,” Jon said, his eyes darkening. 

“Ok! I get it! Damn…. You’ve got thirsty women chasing you all the time and I have to just accept it and trust you! I got a friend request from a dude who’s ancient history in my mind and you’re freaking out?” you said, trying to brush off Jonathan’s concerns.  

Jon shook his head. He DID try to catch himself, realizing the hypocrisy of all of this. There’d been countless uncomfortable situations where Jonathan had to brush off attention from women. He knew how much trust it must take for you to be with him and not feel jealous/insecure. Jonathan slowly exhaled, shaking his head. 

“Yeah…. I hear you. It’s fucking ridiculous, me saying this. I trust you. You trust me…. I’m sorry…” Jonathan said, trying to cool off. 

There was heavy silence in the room. You could cut the tension with a knife. Jonathan eventually broke the silence: 

“I trust you. But… I don’t trust him,” Jon said. He turned to face you in bed again and you looked back into your eyes with concern. “AND, if he’s as into you as I THINK he still is, he’s probably going to message you… And if he’s as possessive as he WAS with you, he may even web-stalk you a bit,” Jonathan said in a serious tone. 

You sighed and shook your head, climbing out of bed. You didn’t know what to think about this side of Jonathan. The hypocrisy was pretty epic. You had to share him with the world and now he had this paranoid concern about ONE person. However, you thought about what he said. You HOPED he was wrong. You took a shower. Usually Jon would join you but he was still being cold. He just threw on some pajamas, and decided to brood in bed, watched TV, ignoring you. After your shower you got some food and climbed back into bed with him, hoping to cuddle up and watch something together. However, Jon was rigid, not thrilled to have you touching him. He didn't even break his gaze from the tv, as he stared at it looking pissed. You knew why. This Zane thing was still bothering the hell out of him. You decided to just take the hint and let him cool off. 

The atmosphere at home was now tense and depressing. You and Jon rarely have times like this where one of you truly doesn’t want to be around the other. But you could FEEL that Jonathan didn’t want to be around you right now. You couldn’t even IMAGINE what thoughts were going on in his head. This situation had never come up before. It was always Jonathan proving himself loyal to you after getting tested by various situations. Now, you could tell he was insecure, pissed and maybe even jealous. You decided to drive to a cafe and clear your head. Sitting down with your drink, you opened your phone, figuring you’ll text your best friend about this situation and ask for her advice. As you were doing that, your Facebook dinged with a message notification. It was Zane. You stomach dropped. 

Zane: “I’m glad to see you accepted my request! Like I said, I’d love to catch up.” 

You: “Yeah I’m glad to see you doing so well. I’m a bit busy at the moment though. Just out at a cafe.” 

Your aim was to try to end the conversation before it began. 

Zane: “Oh nice! Which cafe?” 

Reluctantly you replied: “The Starbucks on Oswell, St… they have the coziest atmosphere.”

Zane replied: “Oh yeah I’ve been there, that’s a good one. I’m actually nearby right now. Are you going to be hanging out there for a while?” 

You had a bad feeling…. It definitely sounded like he wanted to come join you. Your aim had been to hang out and read there for a few hours since the atmosphere at home with Jon SUCKED right now. You tried to craft a white lie so Zane didn’t come join you though. 

You replied: “Yeah  for awhile but I’m hanging with my friend, I promised her we’d catch up. Now isn't a good time, sorry.” 

Zane replied:  “Ah ok, but maybe we can hang out and catch up another time.” 

Your stomach dropped even more. Jon was right. He had immediately messaged you and asked to see you. You were firmly regretting adding him. You closed your phone and picked up a book to try to clear your head. 

After a long time had passed, you heard the cafe door open. You couldn’t believe it… Zane walked in and scanned the room…. And then gave you a big smile and wave. You nervously returned his smile and wave thinking “OH shit,” while also being more than a little creeped out. He sat down without you inviting him to. 

“Hey! Where’s your friend?” Zane asked. 

“Um… she had to take off. I was just hanging out,” you replied, lying. 

“Well I’m glad I caught you. I know you said it wasn't the greatest time...but I really wanted to see you,” Zane said. 

You were really uncomfortable by now. And if things with Jon were tense before, telling him about THIS would really suck. 

“Well I’m sorry, but I was actually about to head home,” you told Zane. “Maybe… another time?” you said. 

“What’s the rush to get home? Does Jon give you a curfew or something?” Zane said in an offensive tone. You REALLY didn’t like Zane badmouthing Jon’s character or implying that you are his lapdog. You tried to keep it civil. 

“I’m just hungry. I want to get back and have dinner with him,” you replied. 

“Ah.. does he make you cook it?” Zane said, continuing his aggressive, sarcastic questions. 

You were getting REALLY irritated and uncomfortable now. You just stared at Zane in amazement. 

“Tell you what, I’ll take you out to dinner and we can catch up. If Jon whines about it, you can blame me,” Zane said in a naughty tone. 

You were taken aback and felt your chest tighten. 

“Zane, aren’t you WITH someone?” you asked, inquiring about the women on his facebook. 

“Oh THAT, nah that’s over. I just haven’t taken down the pics yet. But seriously, I’d love to take you to dinner! Maybe a night away from Jon is just what you need! Come back to NORMAL life for a bit, see where that takes us, hmm???” Zane said in a flirty, aggressive tone. 

You realized now that you had to be blunt: 

“Zane, I’ve gotta be honest. You popping up like this has caused an issue between me and Jon. I’d appreciate it if you backed off,” you admitted. 

Zane looked PISSED but he tried to play it cool. 

“Oh, my bad. I didn’t realize he was that insecure…. But… what can you expect from a man who wears skirts? Alrighty. Well… I’m around if you wanna talk and hang, ok?” 

“I don’t think it’s a good idea… sorry,” you said, pissed off and eager to get away from Zane without responding to more of his taunts. You hurried out of the cafe and got in your car. 

Your hands were shaking on the drive back. When you got home, Jonathan was on the living room couch literally just staring at the wall. You walked in, flustered and shaken. Slowly entering the living room, you were perplexed seeing Jon just sitting there, catatonic. He looked up at you with a very lost expression. 

“Jon? Are you okay?” you asked, genuinely concerned. 

“Uh…. yeah. YEAH I’m ok,” Jon said (lying). The truth was, Jon had been sitting on the couch reflecting hard on what it might feel like to lose you if you reciprocated any of Zane’s feelings or attempts to reconnect. He couldn’t get it out of his head. At the same time, Jon had been sitting there feeling guilty for being so hard on you, knowing full well it’s hypocritical given the amount of attention he gets that YOU have to put up with. 

Jonathan focused his gaze on you. He knew immediately you weren’t okay either. 

“What’s wrong?” he asked. “You look scared or something. Was it me? I- I .. I’m sorry for acting so cold earlier… you didn’t deserve that,” Jon continued, getting off the couch and walking up to you to give you a hug. You couldn’t get any words out. You just let Jon hug you. Holding each other tightly, you both wanted to cry… but were not ready to admit all the reasons why.

As you held each other, all you could think was “I don’t want to lose his trust!” 

As he held you all Jon could think was “I don’t want to lose her.”  

As Jon slowly let you out of the hug, he looked at your eyes and could tell something was still wrong. 

“Seriously, are you ok?” Jon asked, concerned. You decided you HAD to tell him what just happened. 

“Well…. No. Jon, you were right. I went out to a cafe just to give you some space. And Zane messaged me right away like you said he might. I made the mistake of saying I was out… and he fucking showed up where I was, even after I said I was busy,” you admitted. 

Jon’s eyes darkened and his face sank. He let out an enraged sniff and took some quick steps away from you while shaking his head and gripping his hair, nervously tugging on it. He started rapidly pacing around the room and breathing faster. 

“I TOLD HIM I DIDN’T WANT HIM TO MEET ME. I told him he was causing problems for us. He- he was REALLY persistent. It took me by surprise. I’m SO sorry,” you said, half in tears. 

Jon paced some more while tugging harder on his hair and breathing faster. He put his hands on his hips and looked at you.

“MAN, that little FUCKER doesn’t waste ANY time, did he?” Jon said. 

“I really didn’t mean for any of this to happen,” you said apologetically. “But I was VERY blunt with him now, Jon! I told him he needs to back off!” 

Jon stood still, hands on his hips, still breathing hard and looking like he wanted to kick something. He wasn’t mad at you, necessarily. At least, he was trying not to be. But he WAS feeling like this guy was getting predatory…. Jon thought carefully before speaking again. 

“HOW did he just SHOW UP where you were? Tell me HONESTLY” Jon asked, with a very angry expression. 

“I made the mistake of saying which cafe it was in a text, after he kinda pried about where I was,” you told him, truthfully. 

“AFTER you said you were busy and didn’t want to meet him? And he STILL tracked down the address and showed up to the cafe?” Jon demanded, with his eyes BORING into yours. 

“YES,” you told Jon truthfully. 

Jon looked furious and ready to cry at the same time. “Is that REALLY how it went down??? Hmm?? He just TRACKED you down, you didn’t ask to see him??? TRUTH!” Jon demanded. 

“YES JON!!!! Read the fucking texts if you want!” you cried, pushing your phone forward towards him and stepping across the room next to him. 

Jon slumped his head forward and just stared at the ground, wincing his eyes and shaking his head at his own behavior. There was awkward silence as you left your phone outstretched waiting for him to look.  He looked back up at you, with an expression on his face like he was ready to cry. 

“I’m not gonna do that to you. I’m not gonna go through your fucking phone. I believe you, baby. I trust you,” Jon said, truthfully. You threw your phone onto the couch and rushed towards him, wrapping your arms around him in a big hug. Jon was rigid at first, not hugging you back, but within a few seconds, broke down crying and returned your hug. The two of you just held each other for a few minutes. 

You slowly let go of him. You looked at his eyes and he was trying to clear his throat and stop snuffling. You touched his face. “PLEASE. You have nothing to worry about. I hate him right now more than EVER. He was SO rude today! I’m NEVER going back to him, OK?” you said. Jon slowly nodded. He touched your face and stroked your hair. He looked at you lovingly and began feeling more protective than anything else. He realized whatever interaction you had with Zane had left you shaken up.  

Jon slowly exhaled and composed himself before speaking again: 

“I’m not gonna fucking tell you what to do about him. But…If he was aggressive enough to track you down at the cafe, I think you better take him off Facebook. He’s DEFINITELY going to keep messaging you and trying shit. And all that location tagging bullshit on those apps gives him a lot of chances to figure out where you are. Baby, he’s pushing HARD,” Jon warned. 

You sighed. The thought that Zane might actually be STALKING you seemed over the top. You hoped Jon was just being paranoid. You also had hoped Zane took the hint loud and clear at the cafe. You weren’t sure what to say. 

“I was really clear with him, Jon. I don’t think he’ll bother me again. If he does I’ll block him, ok?”

Jon didn’t like that answer, but he respected you and accepted it. “Ok. But be careful. I love you. I’m sorry … really fucking sorry for how I’ve been acting, baby,” he said, holding you again. 

–

The following night you and Jon went out to a restaurant/music hall. You were trying to get back on track and enjoy yourselves. The evening was going really well and after your meal you slow danced with him to some live music. The two of you held each other tight, and as you danced, Jon just stared at your eyes before giving you a big kiss. He nuzzled his face against your ear and said, “I’m a very lucky man,” over the music. Then, he held you tighter and you rested your head on his shoulder as the two of you continued dancing in a tight embrace. 

Later that evening, you ran into one of your friends at the music hall. The two of you were excited to see each other and decided it was a great photo-opp with the beautiful backdrop. You asked Jon to take a picture of the two of you and he gladly did. You posted it to your Facebook, tagging her. Again, Jon really disliked social media but he was aware you wanted to share the fun moment on your page. Facebook prompted you to tag the venue location and you hit ‘accept,’ without thinking too closely. 

The three of you spent a long time talking together at a bistro outside the venue, ordering some dessert. Eventually, Jon stepped away to go to the bathroom, and the three of you were preparing to part company. Your friend called it a night and gave you a hug goodbye. As you sat alone, waiting for Jon to come back, you felt a hand caress your shoulder and you looked up, smiling, expecting it to be Jon. 

It was Zane. You were in utter shock. “ZANE? What are you doing here?” 

“Surprise!” Zane said, as if you would be thrilled. You had no words. 

Without being invited, he sat down next to you. You scooted away from him. Before you could ask him what the hell he was doing there he said, “man this place is awesome huh? So, you out with friends or?” 

“I’m here with Jon,” you said, with an angry scowl. 

“Oh! I thought maybe you were having a girls night or something. So where is Mr. Universe? Left you all alone again?” Zane said in his smug tone. 

“He’s coming right back,” you said. “And Zane…. I really… don’t think we should hang out. At all. I really… I really think you should go,” you admitted with as much courage as you could put into your voice. 

“Hmmm.. is that what YOU want? You want me to go? Or is that what he wants?” Zane asked. 

“That’s what I want. ME. I want you to go,” you said, slowly standing up and backing away from him. You were feeling genuinely irked at this point. How did he find you? Why was he being so aggressive?

Jon was walking out to the bistros and saw Zane next to you. He froze and watched as Zane started to stand up and take steps towards you. He watched you taking steps away from him with a nervous expression on your face. Your body language was quite clear. You were frightened. 

“Well, I’ll go. But only if that’s what YOU want. But I gotta tell you, I don’t think that’s what you REALLY want,” Zane continued in an ominous tone as he stepped next to you and tried to stroke his hand across your face and play with your hair.  

Jonathan took slow steps towards the bistro, doing his best to restrain himself as he watched the whole thing going down. You pushed Zane’s hand away from your face, saying “what are you DOING?” as you felt genuine disgust. 

Jonathan slowly stepped next to you, pushing his arm between you and Zane and gently pushing you behind his body. You DID feel intimidated by Zane and you fully accepted/appreciated Jon stepping between the two of you. You reached out and held Jonathan. Jonathan put his arm around you, taking slow backwards steps with his arm firmly around you while maintaining a wordless death stare at Zane. 

“HEY man, how ya doing?” Zane said to Jon in a sarcastic tone. 

“Me? I’m fucking SWELL, Zane. What brings you here tonight?” Jon said in a low, ominous voice. 

“Ah… just looked like an awesome venue. It’s wild, I just keep running into her,” Zane said, pointing to you. “It’s like fate or something,” Zane said in an unhinged, condescending tone. 

“YEAH MAN! Fucken serendipity, innit?” Jon said, boring his eyes into Zane’s. “Wouldn’t have anything to do with a picture of her here with a location tagged or nothing!” Jon said, calling Zane’s bluff. 

“PFT, damn, man, are you always this paranoid or is it like a bad cocktail of your meds?” Zane retorted. 

You were freaking out. You did NOT want this fight to happen. But… you had to admit, watching Jon put a stop to this was pretty damn satisfying. Zane had MORE than creeped you out at this point and you really REALLY wanted him to leave you alone for good. You tried to step in: 

“Please, Jon, let’s just go,” you said, holding Jon and trying to make him take a step back from Zane. Then you turned to Zane: 

“Zane, please, I think it’s for the best if we REALLY go our separate ways,” you continued, sternly. 

“Wow, he’s got you well trained!” Zane continued. Jon forced you to let go of him and took several steps forward towards Zane. He was THIS close to beating Zane’s ass. 

Jon stared Zane down and spoke calmly one more time. 

“SHE is free to do what the FUCK she wants. I don’t make her do ANYTHING. But I’ve got some free advice for YOU. YOU aren’t free to STALK her and not take NO for an answer. If you think you’re gonna keep that up, you’ve got another thing coming!” Jon growled. 

Zane chuckled:

“DUDE, you scare me about as much as a field of petunias. You don’t even WANNA know what I think of you,” Zane said. 

Jon’s eyes turned black. He was THIS close to losing his shit. 

“Think what the fuck you want about me. I’ve cut open bodies in the morgue for a living. I know EXACTLY where to make to right incisions depending on which of your FUCKIN organs I feel like removing first,” Jon growled before giving Zane a single, HARD shove backwards. Jon’s statement DID catch Zane off guard for a moment. Zane stumbled back before catching his balance and taking steps forward to shove Jonathan in return. 

“STOP!” you screamed. The scream caught the attention of a bouncer, who apparently had already had his eye on the situation. As the bouncer walked up, ready to break up whatever was going on, you gripped Jon’s hand and pulled him away as hard as you could.

“JON!! Please, let’s go now,” you begged. Jon did his best to restrain himself and turn on his heel, following you and wrapping an arm around you. His eyes were still black with rage. The bouncer stood next to Zane as Zane tried to throw one final insult: 

“Yeah that’s right, GO HOME. You get cranky past your bedtime, get some rest man!” Zane shouted. 

Jon pulled away from you one last time. “YEAH I’ll do that man, SWEET fuckin dreams of that first Y shaped incision before pulling open your FUCKING CHEST CAVITY!” Jon screamed in the blood-curdling voice. He put his arms back around you and held you as you speed-walked away and into the car. 

The ride back was silent, except for the two of you both breathing really hard. You realized you HAD been stalked, and you grabbed your phone out of your purse, opening facebook and blocking Zane. Halfway through the drive, you looked at Jon. He was driving very carefully but his eyes looked absolutely FILLED with fury. You couldn’t take it anymore and started sobbing. Jon looked at you while trying to keep driving. He didn’t know what to do. “Baby? BABY! I’m— I’m sorry,  I … don’t fuckin know what to say … I….. SHIT…. “ Jon said, half in rage and half in tears. 

At the first opportunity, Jon pulled over in a parking lot. He turned the car off and unbuckled his seatbelt to reach across the car and hold you. You held him and cried, holding him tightly. You sobbed onto his shoulder. “I didn’t mean to be an asshole! I didn’t mean to embarrass you! It’s just, when I walked out and saw him, you looked scared, like you were trying to back away from him and he was pushing you into a corner! I LOST MY SHIT!” Jon said, apologetically. 

You let go of Jon and looked at his face in the dim light of the parking lot. 

“He WAS, Jon! He was creeping the hell out of me! I had told him to go away already and he wasn’t taking my word for it! I- I’m REALLY GLAD you did what you did! I’m glad you were there!” you admitted while crying. Jon shook and cried some more while holding you… however, he was still shaking/crying more with rage….. thinking about anyone treating you like that. 

“If he doesn’t fuck off … I swear to god.. I SWEAR TO GOD,” Jon said with his teeth gritted, while holding you. 

“I blocked him! He better fuck off. I’ll…. I’ll get a fucking restraining order if I had to Jon! I swear, I HATE THIS, this is a nightmare!” you said, holding him. The two of you just held each other tightly for a few more minutes. Eventually, the two of you composed yourselves and drove home. 

You were both emotionally spent when you got back. All you could do was change for bed, climb in, and hold each other tight. You were shaking and trying to compose yourself. You felt so comforted and safe in his arms. Eventually your snuffling stopped and you fell hard asleep against Jonathan. However, Jon stayed up for ages, unable to sleep. There was way too much adrenaline pumping in him still. But he was happy to just hold you in his arms while you slept. Eventually, he fell asleep also. 

In the end, you did not ever hear from Zane again. Perhaps that confrontation at the music venue REALLY got through to him. Although, you often wondered if Jon did something you were unaware of to further “make his point,” to Zane. You decided to never inquire. 

----

Side note: I have a TikTok & Youtube where I make sexy/funny JD thirst traps/naughty joke Korn-related comedy edits if y'all are interested. I include myself in several vids, I'm openly a pervy/dorky lady haha. My accounts are not for clout/promotion. I'm just way into him and if you stumbled THIS far into sexy JD stuff you might enjoy my vids.

Link to my Tiktok:

Link to a funny/sexy JD Stich I made:

Link to my Youtube:

More stories to come. Feel free to leave story theme requests/ideas in the comments or DM me :)

[carinazvoid]

Carina Deluca x reader

Just plain fluff

Carina DeLuca had a way of making even the most ordinary moments feel extraordinary. It wasn't just her Italian charm or her impeccable sense of style; it was the way she made you feel seen, valued, and understood. Today was no different. You were sitting together on a blanket spread out on the grass in a secluded corner of the park, the afternoon sun casting a warm glow over everything.

"I love this spot," Carina said, lying back and looking up at the canopy of leaves above. "It feels like we're hidden away from the rest of the world."

You smiled, adjusting your position to get more comfortable beside her. "Yeah, it's perfect. Just you and me."

She turned her head to look at you, her dark eyes softening as they met yours. "Exactly how I like it."

Moments like these were your favorite. Quiet, simple, and filled with the kind of intimacy that only came from truly knowing and trusting each other. You reached over and laced your fingers with hers, feeling the warmth of her skin against yours. It was a small gesture, but one that held so much meaning.

"So," she began, a playful smile tugging at her lips, "what do you want to do today? We have the whole day to ourselves."

You shrugged, content just to be in her presence. "Honestly? I'm happy just being here with you. Maybe we can get some ice cream later?"

Her eyes lit up at the mention of ice cream. "Gelato! Let's get gelato. I'll make sure you get the real Italian experience."

You laughed, knowing how passionate she was about her heritage. "Deal. But only if you teach me a few more Italian words while we eat."

She sat up, her excitement palpable. "Oh, you have no idea what you've just signed up for. By the end of the day, you'll be speaking fluent Italian."

You raised an eyebrow, amused by her enthusiasm. "Is that a challenge?"

"Absolutely," she replied, leaning in closer. "And I never back down from a challenge."

Her lips brushed against yours in a soft kiss, the kind that left you craving more but also perfectly content in the moment. When she pulled back, her eyes sparkled with mischief. "Ti amo," she whispered.

"I love you too," you replied, feeling a rush of warmth spread through you.

The afternoon passed in a blissful blur. You talked about everything and nothing, sharing stories, dreams, and secrets under the shade of the trees. At one point, Carina pulled out a small notebook from her bag and started sketching the view, her brow furrowed in concentration as she captured the essence of the scene.

"You never told me you could draw," you said, watching her in admiration.

She looked up, a hint of shyness in her expression. "It's just a hobby. Something I do to relax."

"Well, you're really good at it," you said, genuinely impressed. "Can I see?"

She handed you the notebook, and you marveled at the intricate details she had managed to capture. "Wow, this is beautiful. You have such a talent."

"Grazie," she said softly, a blush creeping up her cheeks. "I'm glad you like it."

As the sun began to dip lower in the sky, casting long shadows across the grass, you decided it was time for gelato. Carina led the way to a little Italian café she had discovered, tucked away in a side street. The place was charming, with colorful decorations and the rich aroma of freshly made pastries wafting through the air.

"Buonasera, Carina!" the owner greeted her warmly. "E chi è questa bella ragazza?"

Carina beamed, introducing you in rapid Italian. You could pick out a few words here and there, enough to understand that she was telling him how special you were to her.

The owner, a jovial man with a thick accent, smiled at you. "Ah, molto bene! Welcome, welcome. You must try our gelato. It's the best in the city."

Carina insisted on picking the flavors for both of you, and soon you were sitting outside the café with a generous portion of gelato in front of you. She watched with anticipation as you took your first bite, waiting for your reaction.

"Oh my god," you said, your eyes widening in delight. "This is amazing."

She laughed, clearly pleased. "Told you. Nothing beats real Italian gelato."

You spent the rest of the evening strolling through the city, hand in hand, exploring little shops and enjoying the warm, summer air. Carina took you to all her favorite spots, sharing bits of history and culture with each place you visited. It was like seeing the city through her eyes, and it made everything feel new and exciting.

By the time you returned to your apartment, it was late, but neither of you felt tired. You curled up on the couch together, wrapped in a cozy blanket, and talked about your plans for the future. Carina's head rested on your shoulder, and you could feel the steady rise and fall of her breathing.

"Do you ever think about what it would be like to live in Italy?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Sometimes," you admitted. "Especially when you talk about it. It sounds like a dream."

She looked up at you, her eyes filled with hope. "Maybe one day we can make that dream a reality."

You kissed her forehead, feeling a sense of peace settle over you. "I'd like that. As long as I'm with you."

Carina smiled, snuggling closer. "I feel the same way."

As you sat there, wrapped up in each other, you realized that it didn't matter where you were or what you were doing. As long as you had Carina by your side, every moment was special. She was your home, your safe haven, and your greatest adventure all rolled into one.

And that was more than enough.

The night grew darker, and eventually, you both drifted off to sleep, still wrapped in each other's arms. The world outside continued on, but in that moment, all that mattered was the love you shared and the promise of many more beautiful days to come.

[callmewrinkles3]

Peace - DR3 x Fem!OC

Summary: After their whistle stop trip to Perth it’s time for the next race in Baku. A photo causes issues, and Em sees something she shouldn’t have spotted.

Word Count: 9.6k

Warnings: Zak Brown, mentions of food issues (lack of appetite, not eating, what could be considered picky eating), media being assholes, panic attacks, mentions of mental health issues.

A/N: We’re baaaaaaccccckkkk! Sorry for the delay, we’ve been ridiculously busy. But in our defence, this is a monster chapter. We’re sticking with 2022 for the next while.

June 2022

“I have a couple of apartments.”

Em half woke to Dan’s words. She hadn’t really been asleep on the shorter flight from Dubai to Baku. Instead she’d been half dozing with her Beats playing music. London was clutched in her hand while she curled against Dan’s side. There’d been a plane swap and something else but their fancy seats were swapped into a row of three economy ones. Honestly if she was asked she preferred being able to curl up like this on a plane. His arm was around her and she got to chill out with him beside her.

“What do you mean?”

“For London. The city, not the bear I mean. If you still want to move in together?” He turned the tablet towards her to show an option. Three bedrooms, a view, in one of the parts of London they’d shortlisted. It looked nearly too good to be true.

“Talk when we get to the hotel? But yeah. I want to move in with you properly.”

They were two of the first into Baku for the race which meant that instead of going immediately into a bright orange race world Em got to unwind for a night. Dan brought her to an Italian restaurant for dinner and they held hands in public. They went back to the hotel room and curled up in bed before Dan asked her a question.

“So with the apartment thing. I’m looking at places for us to buy, not rent.”

“Danny…” She trailed off and looked at him, at the way he smiled at her.

“I didn’t tell you this. It was supposed to be a surprise. But I got the email the day before you arrived in Melbourne and it didn’t feel right to say it then. I dunno if you remember but do you remember when we were in Austin in 2019? We were in bed and you were talking about how much you like the city and you just trailed off and said it’d be a nice place to show kids.”

The vague memory hit her, the night after the race. When Dan had been jealous of her talking to Charles and Pierre and they went to the hotel. It had been emotional and she was still luxuriating that they’d said I love you a few weeks before.

“Yeah. Kind of?”

“I found a place. I was looking on and off since then but it had to be in delivery radius of that barbecue place we like. Your name’s on it too. I didn’t know if you were coming back or not but it’s our place. Bought, not rented. And if we don’t spend loads of time in Austin but we’ve got a place then we should buy somewhere in London. You don’t like Monaco that much. We just need to be there a bit for taxes and stuff. But we should buy somewhere. A home. Our home.”

“You bought us a place?” She couldn’t get over it. She couldn’t stop thinking about it. He bought them a home when she wasn’t even around.

“Yeah. It’s ours.”

“I love you so much. So, so much. And yeah. I want our home. A real home.”

“I’m getting you your lavender office. I promised you that I was going to get you a lavender office. It’s happening.”

She couldn’t stop grinning, holding onto Dan and sleeping well for the first time in weeks. It was restful at last.

Wednesday meant most people were arriving into the city and that included Blake and Michael. They hugged her tightly as soon as they saw her, both checking in through the day. There was still a divide between them and Dan. She could see the way they were with him. But that needed to wait, she couldn’t deal with all of it. Not now.

Most of the day was spent sitting with Blake and coming up with how she was coming back to work. She wanted to get back as quickly as she could, but Blake didn’t want to risk it for her. Which she understood. But she wanted to feel normal even when she felt like she was barely holding together. The other part of the day with Blake was having a conversation she never thought she’d need to have.

She had to make a plan about how her relationship was going to be made public.

Somehow she hadn’t been spotted much in Monaco, just a few gossip blogs which made life easier and harder. It was easier because at least it wasn’t a complete surprise that she was around. But it was harder because she hated having to do this. The fact that her and Dan were finally admitting that they love each other meant a PR response had to happen felt stupid. They were just two people in love. Why did the world care?

But it was clear that the world did care, the blog posts and TikToks and instagram posts about her were proof of that. The #WheresEm posts on TikTok from fans analysing photos of Dan, Michael, and Blake to see if she was in the background. The slideshows of her and other women who worked in F1. It was kind of surreal now that Blake was showing her.

“You’re in the paddock every week. You work in the sport. Netflix interviews you and every February people wonder if DTS is going to call you “Daniel’s girlfriend”. It happens.” Blake was apologetic as he opened a folder on his laptop called Tax Files.

“You told me that was taxes and that’s why it’s password protected.”

“Yeah, sorry. If you knew you’d have killed me.” She looked at the four PDFs held in the file. Dan_Em_dating, Dan_Em_engaged, Dan_Em_married, Dan_Em_baby. The last one cut like a knife.

“Seriously? Engaged and married? Statements for all of it?”

“It’s the two of you. I wrote them after you were in Vegas, there were rumours online for two months after that the two of you got secretly married. I thought it was better to be safe than sorry. For both of you. But this is the reactive ones in case someone posted photos or something. Right now I think you doing an insta post is enough, it’ll confirm but you don’t need to do details. Do you have any PG photos?”

Twenty minutes later a photo of her in Dan’s lap as he held her and gave her a kiss that was chosen to be the photo. Dan used his grid mostly for work related stuff so it was her account that would post it. The caption at least was her own decision. Thirty seconds of thought and she tapped it out. I know you know, but I love you to the moon and to Saturn. Once the draft was saved the schedule was set. Post it during FP1. It would be fine.

The plan mostly worked for Thursday. Her makeup was thick and Blake refused to let her work for longer than an hour of checking emails, but she walked into the paddock with her head held high. Friends nodded and gave her a smile, Carmen’s eyes widening slightly when she saw her and Em forced a grin. She was part of a team. She belonged her. She knew what she was doing. It would be fine and it was worth it.

Sitting in hospitality for the day Em refreshed one of the gossip instagram accounts she still followed, a photo of her talking to Blake appearing at the top of the grid. The caption made her huff.

She’s baaaaaaccccckkkkkk! Daniel Ricciardo’s assistant Em was seen back in the paddock. The rumour was that she was in Monaco but hiding in hospitality. She hasn’t been seen at a race since the Australian GP at the beginning of April, where she was seen with his parents and extended family. The duo were spotted in Perth for the weekend off last week, but they’ve never confirmed a relationship. Reminder: Em falls under our WAG rules because we don’t have confirmation if they are or aren’t in a relationship. No criticism of how she looks or what she’s wearing.

“What’s so funny?” Blake asked and she turned the screen to him.

“I’m kind of surprised how quickly people started sharing photos of me again. Am I really that impressive?”

“I think it’s more that you’ve been around for so long. Tomorrows probably going to be chaos with the post. You know that, right? You’ll get through it but there will definitely be questions.”

“I know. If we did this years ago it’d have been easier.”

Instead of a third iced latte that she’d asked for, Michael handed her an orange juice as lunch was brought over. He received a glare in its place.

“I thought I asked for a coffee?”

“And you’re vibrating in place. Eat something, Wriggle.”

The chopped salad in front of her was pretty but the idea of even touching it made her feel awful. Encouraging looks made her spear a couple of pieces of chicken that she could just about separate and eat them. At least playing with her food meant that it wasn’t noticed that she wasn’t really eating.

Dan was able to run in and grab food before going back to more team meetings. He pushed a kiss to the top of her head before raising an eyebrow at her bowl, but Em shook her head before he could speak. It was two or three minutes before he had to leave with Michael. Before he did he ran across to the coffee bar and plucked a lemon muffin from the stand to place in front of her. It was a smile and a squeeze of her hand before he had to go again.

She picked at the muffin and at her dinner that night before they were back in the hotel room together. Dan kept giving her looks to eat more but she was too worn out to eat. It was like her body was constantly waiting for the next crisis, coiled and ready to release adrenaline while she was begging it to relax. She needed to curl up with her boyfriend and be held by him. The day went well. People could tell they were truly in a relationship. Everything was public tomorrow. She could do it.

For the first time in years Em stressed about what to wear to the paddock the next morning. None of her clothes fit right and her usual style felt awkward. Normally she tried to blend in but this was the one day she shouldn’t have to. She wasn’t just Dan’s assistant anymore. People would keep caring about what she wore, working out what labels she had on and how much her outfit cost. It was so much stress that she didn’t want to deal with but Dan put his arms around her waist and kissed her neck.

“Wear what makes you smile. You’ll be beautiful no matter what.”

“You’re a charmer.”

“And you need to eat something. I know it’s not your favourite but I got you a bacon sandwich with my breakfast. Try to eat some of it?”

“Just for you.”

The nerves thrummed through her body as she pulled on straight leg jeans and tightened her belt. Her outfit was finished with a Paramore tee that was at least a size too big and one of the merch hats Dan always had around, but she was clothed and felt good. She could do this. She could do it. Em even ate half of the sandwich Dan gave her despite the butterflies in her stomach trying to rebel.

Their plan for getting to the race was simple. The four of them were driving to the track together, Blake taking her usual role as driver. Dan and Michael were walking in five minutes before she and Blake did so they could take most of the attention away. Once he was in the car for FP1 she’d post the Instagram draft and hopefully someone would fuck up in practice so the “Daniel Ricciardo has a girlfriend” story would die down. It was a good plan that they could do.

When they arrived at the drivers car park they all stepped out of the car before Dan pulled her into a giant hug. It was nearly deserted in the early morning and she fell into him before sharing a kiss and a smile.

“That’s the last secret kiss we ever have to do. How does that feel?” Dan asked to make her grin.

“So no more hidden corners in dive bars?”

“I mean that’s a tradition so we have to have some more there, right? I love you. I’ll see you after practice.”

“I love you too. I think Blake is actually letting me work today so I’ll see you then.” They had one final kiss before Dan and Michael walked away while she and Blake stayed behind

“Just for the record, if you and Dan split up again I’m choosing you. You’re my little sister. I don’t want you to go anywhere else.”

“I learned my lesson, Blakey. I’ve no intention of going anywhere. I promise.”

Five minutes later they were walking through the paddock and Em ignored the eyes that were on her. It was a statement to be publicly there in the paddock, to be beside Blake while she wore a 3 hat. She wasn’t ashamed of herself or her love for Dan. She couldn’t be. They were in love and that was what mattered to her.

They sat in Dan’s driver room while Em went through yet more emails that she’d missed while she was gone. The practice stayed on tv and she let the familiar voices roll over her. With ten minutes left on the clock Blake gave her a nudge to post the photo with a smile.

“Ready to be a WAG?”

“Will I ever be? But I’ve basically been one for the last four years without the benefits.”

When she opened Instagram her notifications were already going insane. There were people mentioning her in comments and tagging her and she had to scroll back to see where it all stemmed from. But when she found one of the paddock photographers accounts and started to read the caption her blood ran cold.

Arriving into the paddock this morning ahead of Day One of the Azerbaijan Grand Prix I got to see possibly the rarest sight in Formula One - Daniel Ricciardo and his presumed girlfriend @callmewrinkles3 canoodling and revealing their romance. We don’t know a lot about Emma except that she’s English and has worked with Ricciardo since at least the summer break in 2019. Her first appearance at a race was Barcelona in 2018 where she hid in the back of the Red Bull garage. Most people have assumed that they’re together but they’ve never publicised anything. It’s clear from the photos how in love they are, but why have they never admitted anything before? She’s missed every race since the Australian GP and the rumour around the paddock was that they had split up. I think that can be safely ignored now.

“Blake. Fuck.” She held her phone out to Blake so he could see the post and watched as his face changed while reading. “One hour. One fucking hour.”

The comments began to fill her screen and she couldn’t help but read them.

They’re actually together? I thought that was a joke.

Why did she just disappear like that?

Dan deserves better than an assistant.

Who is she? Just appeared one day like she was always there.

Friends with bennies. There’s no way they’re dating. They’d have admitted it by now. Has to be some PR thing.

“Timmy? Em? Can you hear me?” The panic was rising through her chest as all her deepest fears were on screen. Dan deserved better. He deserved more than her. She’d ruined everything when she left she never should have come back. Why did she come back when she’d ruined things for him?

Strong arms wrapped around her and pulled her tight, Em’s desperation filling her as Blake held on.

“I’ve got you. I’ve got you. Deep breaths in and out.” Tears streamed down her face as she tried to copy his breathing. They were just one hour late to do it. One hour. But the one thing that they’d protected for so long and had been so careful with had been revealed to the world before either of them had the chance to do it. Outside the paddock they were supposed to be private citizens. That area was off limits, it wasn’t supposed to be where they could be photographed. Especially not by accredited ones.

“Why us? Why the fuck does this always happen to us?” It was all she could get out as she kept crying, Blake holding onto her tightly and rubbing her back. It wasn’t the same as when Dan or Grace did it but it helped as she tried to stop herself from spiralling. But Dan had his stupid briefing and then had to get ready for FP2 and she was barely going to see him. All she wanted was for him to tell her it was going to be ok. It wasn’t much to ask. Em lost track of time as she tried to pull all of her broken pieces together. She needed to get it together.

“I can get him out of his meeting. Want me to grab him now?”

“Please?” She felt pitiful with the tiny sound coming out of her mouth, but Blake left a kiss on her forehead before sitting her on the massage table and leaving the room.

“I’ll be back as soon as I can, ok? Just remember. You and him love each other so much somehow. A photo and internet trolls are never going to change what the two of you have. I promise you that TimTam.”

She didn’t know how long it took until Blake returned with Dan but she could feel the fragile parts of herself begin to move and crack again. Why would Dan want her to be there with him? She’d left once before and she should just leave again. Let everyone else be happy. She could make herself be happy without them eventually she thought. The world was acting like loving Dan was some awful thing, that she didn’t deserve to love him and she didn’t know how she could keep going with it. It wasn’t fair.

Her sobs started again and Em’s arms went around her knees to hold them against her chest. It was going to be ok. It was going to be fine. It had to be fine. She couldn’t be too loud or people would hear and that would be worse for Dan if his girlfriend was having a breakdown in his room. She shoved her hand against her mouth to muffle her sobs. She could be quiet. She had to be quiet.

“Emmy? I’m right here Wrinkles.”

“Danny.”

It felt so stupid. So fucking stupid. It was a photo that revealed news that they were about to share anyway, but they wanted to get to do it. It wasn’t up to anyone else to share it. Why did they think they could?

“I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry Baby. You don’t deserve that and you never deserved have comments made about you like that. If you want to go home just tell me and you can, I’ll book the flights for you.”

The words hit her gut and she wanted to get sick. He wanted her to leave. Wanted her to go home.

She didn’t have a home anymore.

She destroyed their home and she was homeless and she had nothing left. It was all gone.

“I…I…We…We don’t have one. I don’t. I’m homeless. I got rid of it and Danny it’s gone and it’s my fault please don’t make me leave.” Her sobs began again as the reality of what she’d done hit her. She’d destroyed their home in a weekend. She was homeless. Michael had offered his spare room but she couldn’t. What had she done?

“No. Oh no, Emmy, no, I promise. I promise you’re not going anywhere if you don’t want to. I want you to stay here. I want to be here with you all the time. I’m right here and you’re staying with me I promise. I promise.”

She didn’t know how long he held onto her for but as her sobs subsided the embarrassment at how she acted filled her. It was all over a photo. This shouldn’t have happened because of a photo. But Dan held onto her and wiped her eyes while she stopped crying, emotionally and physically exhausted with red and puffy eyes. Her foundation was entirely gone but Dan smiled at her like she lit up the universe.

“For the record I hate saying this but we have thirty minutes until Dan needs to be in the car. And I might have a solution. Maybe.” Em twisted in Dan’s lap to look at Blake as he began to explain. Nat from Sky was willing to be outside to ‘run into’ Dan and do a softball interview for him to explain everything.

“Do it.” He hadn’t even finished speaking when Em cut across, making herself stand up on shaky legs and stretching while still holding his hand.

“Emmy…”

“Danny, do it. You get to get ahead of it and say something about how everyone knew. Act like it’s just stupid gossip. And then you can drive and ignore it, yeah?”

“If you’re sure.”

“I am.”

She wiped her face on one of the towels that was supposed to be for after Dan’s practice before nodding at him. Dan stood up and pulled her close, holding his lips against her forehead in silence. They were desperate to stay as close as possible for as long as they could until Blake tapped her shoulder.

“She’ll be downstairs in thirty seconds, it’s live.”

“Go.” It was a kiss to make Dan leave and Em sat down to get her makeup out of her bag.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m watching from the garage. So I’m making myself look vaguely presentable.”

Her fingers were shaking as she started pulling concealer and foundation out. The tv was already tuned to the Sky feed and when she heard Natalie’s voice her attention went straight to it.

“And look who we have here! Daniel Ricciardo was heading over to his garage but agreed to talk to me for a moment. You’ve had all of the attention on you thanks to that Instagram post everyone’s seen about your relationship.” It was open and warm and Em bit her lip while she watched.

“Yeah. It’s funny, we never thought we needed to announce that we were together because everyone knew. You were talking to Em at the AusGP opening yourself. It didn’t make sense to do some big thing when everyone already knew. But now here we are, I guess. At least that’s better news than my driving in that practice. We’ve got a couple of upgrades that we’re trying to learn how they work with this car, so we’ll see how they perform in this practice.”

The way he was so casual about it made Em smile while she finished her concealer and patted it down. It wasn’t anywhere near good but it’d do, and her sunglasses would hide the worst of it.

“Ready?” She asked Blake. He nodded once and followed her across. It was the first time she’d stood in the garage to watch him drive since she and Dan had their fight in Jeddah and he sent her away, but she walked out with her head held high. Dan was standing at the bottom of the stairs to wait for her and held out his hand, Em smiling at him.

“You look beautiful. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

He did better in that practice than the morning one but Em stood there silently. Blake had a hand at her back to keep her steady on her feet, orange headphones glued to her head. She hated the colour. Hated this garage. She wished it felt like home the way Renault had by the end. But she could do this. It was just an hour, and she could see when the cameras caught her and she waved. A small smile stayed on her face as she stared at Dan’s little orange dot on the screen.

She waited for him to get out and they held hands walking to hospitality for food before Dan had to go to more meetings. It was a luxury to hold his and and get to see him as her boyfriend. People stopped to ask for his autograph and take photos and she stepped back to let the photo be taken. One of the girls came up to her after getting the photo.

“I’m sorry about that photo for you. You deserved better than that for how your relationship was made public.”

“Thanks a lot.” It meant more than she could say that a stranger was being nice to her.

That night after yet more picking at food and trying to decide what she could stomach she curled up in Dan’s arms while he pressed kisses to her head. She didn’t know what to do or how exactly she was feeling, but that background anxiety was still there.

“Can I ask you something?” Dan whispered in the dark. It wasn’t too late so she nodded against his chest. “I know you probably don’t want to. But maybe we should find you someone to talk to? You’re not ok, Baby. It’s ok to need some help for a little while.”

“My dad always said that it was weak to need it. That if I couldn’t get through things then I needed to try harder.” The words slipped out before she meant to say it.

“You know I talked to someone last year after Monaco. I think it’s strong to admit that you need some help. It’s such a brave thing to do. It’s up to you but I think it could help.”

It was silent between them for a few minutes before Em could speak. “I think I need some help. Can you help me find someone who does it online?”

“I’ll be right beside you for all of it. I promise.”

“I know.”

Even admitting that she needed to talk to someone took some of the weight off her shoulders. There was something deep inside her that just felt broken and unable to put itself back together. She was freaking out about tiny things. That photo shouldn’t have made her feel this way. The entire Monaco weekend shouldn’t have affected her like that. She’d seen Dan crash before - she’d been in the garage when he crashed in Austria two years before - and the Monaco one wasn’t a big one. But it hurt her in ways she didn’t realise.

Em had never put herself first in her life. It was always everyone else. But this time she needed to put herself at the top of the list or she’d lose herself forever.

The trip to the track was quiet before practice and qualifying. Blake had made the decision that she wasn’t working until at least Austria. And it felt right if she was really honest. The fact that she didn’t want to fight about working proved to her just how necessary it was. Instead she sat in hospitality trading between cups of coffee and juices or water. Michael kept putting big bowls of food in front of her and she couldn’t bear to eat any of it. It was all mixed together and weird textures and the fish curry he tried to get her to eat made her feel disgusting. It was sweet that he tried but no. She could pick out bites when she needed to.

Over what was officially the lunch break but everyone was spending working she flicked through a crappy romance novel on her kindle when movement caught her eye. The teams had all come in and grabbed food before going back to the garage to get the cars ready for setup or do whatever they had to do. Blake was with Dan and Michael before Dan went to a fanzine event. She promised she’d be ok sitting there by herself. Em was convinced that they’d gotten people to keep an eye on her too, but she’d be fine. She could do this.

It was the two men walking through the barely quarter full room that caught her eye but the accent was what really hit her. Zak Brown talking to an Australian wasn’t unusual. What was unusual was that it was Mark Webber and not her boyfriend. Webber. Who managed last years F2 champion who didn’t have a seat. And Brown had been making comments about Dan’s performances needing to improve.

Oh no.

She always trusted her gut. Always. Her gut had yelled at her to not walk away in Melbourne, that it felt wrong, but she ignored it and look how things ended up? Her gut is what made her talk to Dan at Blake’s party nearly five years before. It made her kiss him and fall for him. Helped him make the decision to go to Renault. It was the right thing to do.

And she didn’t trust Brown. Not after the rumours and innuendo and the way her reputation took coordinated hit after hit last year. He had no reason to talk to Webber. Mark had never been in McLaren before, it was just wrong. She knew. Her gut was screaming at her, she knew. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Before she could start freaking out and worrying she saw Dan arrive in with the boys, a girl in her late teens with them. Em smiled as they came over, Dan kissing her cheek.

“Em, this is Rebecca. She flew out here for the race from England. I met her at the fanzone. She wanted me to give you something but I thought she could do it herself.”

“Hey, it’s nice to meet you.” Em looked at the girl who had a sheepish smile on her face before holding out a small bracelet.

“Hi, it’s really nice to meet you too. I saw all the media stuff yesterday and it was awful. I’m sorry people made such a big deal about your relationship like that. I don’t get it. But I make bracelets when I’m anxious and I had beads with me so I made this for you. I hope you like it.”

Em stared at the multicoloured beads and grinned. It said FEA in the middle, patterns of blue, purple, and pink beats surrounding it. It was perfect.

“This is gorgeous. Thank you so much. And thanks for being so kind. Do you want me to take a photo of you and Dan in here?”

“Actually could I get one with you? Feel free to say no. I know it might be weird. But you and Britta and Angela make me think that maybe I could work in motorsport? I’m not good at engineering or anything like that. But maybe I could do something else.” She blushed but Em just smiled, moving her bag with London sticking out of the top so she could sit in.

“Sit in here and we can take one. Just don’t put it online? I haven’t been well, I don’t want people seeing it.”

“Oh no! No way. I just want proof this happened, you know? Thank you so much for this.”

Em watched her leave with Blake, a grin on her face and her new Paddock Club lanyard was wrapped around her neck so she could watch qualifying and the race tomorrow in style. Em slipped her FEA bracelet onto her wrist beside her enchante one, the two comforting on her wrist.

“Sorry for springing this on you. She went to give it to me, said “This is for Em, could you give it to her? There’s loads of people supporting her and she should know that.” I thought you’d want to know.”

“She’s lovely. And that means so much. But what do you mean supporting me?”

Dan opened twitter and she went to groan but instead he showed her a hashtag. #Demma4ever was trending under motorsport. She wanted to groan when she first saw it but the one thing she realised was everyone was so sweet. People unsurprised they were together. People defending them from trolls. People defending her specifically from trolls. A twitter thread from someone calling themselves @cowboydan3 who had traced their relationship since 2018 by pointing out all the times they seemed to be together. It warmed her heart.

“All these people? But they’ve never even met me.”

“Not all of them. But there’s people who did at different events and talked about how you were nice to them. Fans who you pointed out to me so I could say hi and take a photo. People who say I’m in a better mood when you’re around. Yeah there’s trolls and bullshit, but most people have gotten to know the real you. They like you, Baby.”

“Yeah. They do. When’s qualifying?” She needed to not talk about it or she’d cry in public again. She couldn’t cry again.

“Thirty minutes. You gonna watch from here or the garage?”

“The garage?”

She stood beside Blake and watched as Dan was knocked out in Q2. The only piece of justice was Lando also got eliminated, so it wasn’t a “Daniel isn’t performing” kind of day. He had two overtakes to make to get into the points. He could do that. That was definitely something that could happen.

Standing in the paddock she spotted Lance and knew she had an opportunity to get some information. When she waved he made a beeline for her, offering a hug that she gave lightly thanks to the sweaty nomex.

“Sorry about your quali, I know it’s not what you wanted. How are you?”

“We’ll get there. I’m doing ok, how’re you? Especially after everything.”

“I’ll be ok. Unexpected, but I’ll be fine. I had a question for you actually!” She kept her smile fixed and hoped her nerves weren’t showing. “Has Esteban said anything to you about what Oscar is doing while he’s looking for a seat? I know he’s Alpine’s reserve this year.”

“No, nothing. We don’t tend to talk about much work stuff. Unless Alonso’s annoyed him. Then he’ll go on a rant but I ignore it. Dan was the only teammate that Esteban really got on with. But no. Why?”

“You know Dan. Young Australian who came to Europe alone too young, plus we got to know Oscar as a Renault junior in 2020. He wanted to check in but Rossi won’t let him anywhere near Alpine so it’s hard to do it.” He laughed before Lance’s osteo, Henry, came to get him for something.

“If I hear anything I’ll tell you. The latest rumour I heard is possibly a Williams seat. Nicky doesn’t think he’ll keep his seat which sucks.”

“Yeah it does, he’s a good one. Thanks Lance, good luck for tomorrow.”

Everyone knew the rumours about the Williams seat being available. The main rumour Em had heard was that it was a Williams junior who’d get it, there were a couple of prospects in F2 depending on how the season went. Fuck. This was real. It was real and all Em wanted to do was curl up and sob but she couldn’t. She had to walk through the paddock and find Blake to talk to him, and then talk to Dan about it.

As she began to walk back to the meeting rooms Em spotted Ted Kravitz, giving him a wave and a nod as she walked past.

“And of course that’s Daniel Ricciardo’s girlfriend walking past. It’s so nice to get to call her his girlfriend, you know that? Everyone’s known for a long time, back when he was at Renault, which of course is now Alpine, she was known for getting a card for everyone for their birthday. It was probably the worst kept secret in this paddock.”

Getting Blake into Dan’s driver room was easy and she put Fearless on through speakers to muffle their voices. This wasn’t a conversation she wanted to have anywhere near the rest of McLaren but she didn’t have a choice.

“What’s going on, Timmy? Please tell me you’re not leaving again.”

“I’m not going anywhere.” She fixed him with a glare. “But we need to talk and it needs to be private. Nobody can overhear. What do you know about Mark Webber and how his career ended?”

“He was fed up of F1. I was barely in Red Bull when he was leaving, but he was done and everyone knew about it. Dan was nearly pulled up mid season. Why?”

“He had a meeting with Brown today. I watched them leave Brown’s office just beside the cafeteria. Neither of them realised I was there, the cafeteria was basically empty. But they were there for a long time and we’ve both heard him talk about Dan’s performance.”

“Ems, no. No way. Dan has eighteen months left.” She shook her head and watched Blake’s face carefully as she spoke.

“Dan has a twenty five million dollar contract break clause. He’s working himself to the bone for this team and I’m pretty sure that Piastri is going to be in his car next year. I just…maybe I’m wrong. But when has my gut ever been wrong on this? I know this Blakey. I know it.”

“You’re sure?”

“I mean I wasn’t in the room but what other reason is there for the two of them to have a closed door meeting in between practice and qualifying on a Grand Prix weekend?”

“None. Fuck. But are you really, really sure? Seriously.”

“If my mental health wasn’t in the toilet you’d believe me immediately, right?” A sheepish nod. “I know you probably don’t trust me. I don’t trust me about me sometimes right now. I’m hanging on by a thread. But this is Dan’s career, and the one thing I have always done is put his career before anything else. You know that’s what I do. I wouldn’t say this based on anything else. You know that.”

“I know. I know.” I didn’t think they’d fucking do this. I didn’t think they’d do more to hurt him after last year.”

They agreed to keep it to themselves for now, that Em would tell Dan that night. She didn’t want to mention it before the race but he deserved to know. Part of her brain was blaming herself for it. If she hadn’t left then maybe Imola would have been better and the races wouldn’t have been a mess. But she couldn’t think like that. It wasn’t worth it. She couldn’t change the past.

There was a sponsor gala on that she hadn’t realised was even happening, but she was his official plus one to everything. At least she’d learned to always bring a dress to wear to any fancy event with her. It was the same one she’d worn in Melbourne to the race weekend opening but she didn’t care. The dress was looser than the last time she’d worn it, the corset top hanging rather than snug against her chest and waist. Instead of heels she put on ballet flats and did her makeup perfectly. She could get through this. For Dan.

Being on his arm as his girlfriend was a completely different experience to being there with him as his assistant. She smiled and made small talk with people who actually listened to her because of that title change instead of ignoring her. But finally they were face to face with Brown and his wife. Em kept the smile on her face and shook his hand.

“It’s good to see you back, Emma. We were worried about you. Dan didn’t tell us what was happening.”

“That’s because I asked him not to tell anyone. I was ill for a while, we wanted to make sure that I’d be ok before we let anyone know.” It was the same story they’d told everyone in the paddock who’d asked and he paled slightly at it. Worth every minute of not telling the full truth.

Finally they sat down for the dinner and Em stared at the plate placed in front of her. It was all traditional Azerbaijani food, but the worst part was that it was all baked together. There was nothing separate and she could tell from moving her fork through it that the textures were going to be impossible for her. Her stupid food thing and she was going to embarrass Dan if she didn’t eat anything and she couldn’t. She got some meat on her fork and lifted it to her lips, nibbling. It was tasty. But trying to swallow more than the tiniest bite felt impossible.

“You ok?” Dan whispered and Em nodded.

“I didn’t know this was the food.”

“Blake and Michael both checked there’d be food for you. We can just go back to the hotel. You need to eat something.”

“We can’t leave.”

“I’m not letting my girlfriend starve. Not with everything happening Em. You need food.”

“We can’t.” She took a breath and a sip of water, squeezing his thigh. “I’m not that hungry and I can get food when we’re back at the hotel. I’ll drink water. But listen to me. There’s something weird going on right now at McLaren and you can’t leave. You just can’t. I promise I’ll tell you everything when we get back. Just trust me?”

“I always trust you, Emmy. Promise you’ll tell me?” She could hear the worry in his voice but she just nodded, keeping her face smiling like he’d said something hilarious.

“I promise. Pinkie swear.”

A waiter came by about her full plate but Dan stepped in.

“She’s on a medical diet at the moment. We were told there’d be a special plate put aside.”

“Oh, we’re sorry. There’s none.”

She stayed by his side while they did the rounds to talk to people and sit through speeches. Dan’s hand stayed in the small of her back as she nodded and smiled and kept her mouth shut unless it was something she was confident about. Food was the last thing she wanted to deal with when they got back to the hotel. She wanted to go to bed and forget about the day, but that wasn’t going to happen. Instead they got in the same car as Lando to get back to the hotel.

“I mean I get why they didn’t give options but do they not realise picky eaters exist? It was kinda alright but I’d have liked a heads up! What about you, Em? Did you like the food?”

“Didn’t have much, medical diet.”

“Oh. I’m glad you’re back now. He was a mopey git while you weren’t travelling.”

Em knew it was just the younger man’s turn of phrase but she kept a tight hold of Dan’s hand to make sure he knew she was there. Thankfully it was a quiet drive back to the hotel. All the Hiltons in the world felt the same after a year of being sponsored by them. Walk in, hotel reception on the left, lifts around the corner and beside a vending machine. They shared the lift with Lando who waved as he stepped off on his floor. Em kept a hold of Dan’s arm until they were inside his room and he pulled her into a hug.

It wasn’t until she’d ordered room service and it was delivered that she was willing to speak. Once she had this conversation she knew she wouldn’t eat for the rest of the night. Then Dan would get annoyed and it would hurt more than it could ever help and that was the last thing she wanted to happen. So instead Em took a couple of bites of chicken teriyaki while mulling over how to say the words that she knew would devastate her boyfriend.

“When I was in hospitality between practice and qualifying I sat in the corner so nobody spotted me. I didn’t realise that I could see Zak’s office. Mark Webber came out of a long meeting in there shaking Zak’s hand and they left together about five minutes before you came in.”

It was silent in the room until Dan let out a long sigh. He slowly lay back on the bed, his head hitting the mattress. Em watched as he took deep breaths before undoing his bow tie and the top button of his shirt.

“On Saturday night in Monaco, just before I got you from Aston Martin, Andreas called me into his office. He told me that my seat is at risk if I don’t perform better. Fuck. Fuck!” He whisper yelled the last word and sat up while rubbing his face. “I didn’t want to worry you, that’s why I didn’t tell you what he said. You were so fucking fragile Baby. I couldn’t. You still are. I thought it was just a warning.”

“Is it because I left?” The words hung in the air for a moment and she wanted to get sick. Fuck. Fuck all of it. She left and Dan struggled and now he was going to lose his seat and it was all her fault how could she have done that to him?”

“No, no. No Baby. I promise you it’s not because you left.” He pulled his suit jacket off while coming over to pull her into his arms and push a kiss to her head. “I just can’t make the car work. It steers weird and the braking doesn’t work the same was as any other car I’ve ever driven. You being here makes it easier to clear my head when I’m not stuck in the car. But you made me promise in Spa that day to have a clear head before I get in the car. I swear, I clear my mind every single time.”

“Why didn’t you tell me then?”

“Because I couldn’t. You just came back and I was so scared you’d leave again. If I told you you’d blame yourself and leave. I couldn’t. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry for not telling you.”

“Don’t be sorry.” She held his face with her fingers and looked up at him. “You were right not to say anything then. I was barely thinking then. I still barely am. I couldn’t hear it.”

“I’m still sorry.”

“And I still forgive you. I love you, you did the right thing, Danny. What do you want to do?”

“I don’t know. If he said that on Wednesday I might have walked away. But I’m not finished. I think I have more left in me.”

She lay on the bed and pulled Dan into her. Getting changed out of her dress was too much work, he needed to be loved and held and cared for. Tears began rolling down his face as she clung to him, her fingers carding through his curls.

“Remember when we were in lockdown on the farm? I promised you when you were deciding if you were going to leave Renault then that I wasn’t going anywhere. The colour you wear on race week isn’t going to change my mind about that. I said it then and I’m saying it now and I mean every word of it. I love you so much and not being together nearly killed both of us. You can learn to be a mechanic and a househusband with our unicorns.” A wet laugh bubbled out of his chest as her words settled into him and she kept talking.

“We can have our barn with our horses and our kids like we talked about. I don’t care about going and working in some office. We can have breakfast for dinner and lunch and breakfast. Pancakes three times a day, yeah?”

“I thought you hate my cooking?”

“I like your breakfasts. And I love you. I don’t love the Honey Badger. I don’t love DannyRic. I love my Danny. You’re the man who taught me that love can be a good thing. Yeah it hurts sometimes but it’s worth it. I want my life with you, whether that’s F1 or endurance or Indycar or anything else. I want you, Baby. I’m going to follow you to the end of the world. Do you hear me? Whatever you want to do next. I’m going to be holding your hand and right there by your side. Wherever you want to go. I promise.” Her voice was low as he sobbed into her dress. He’d held her as she sobbed the week before and it was her turn now. He was her boy and she wasn’t leaving him.

“I love you, I love you, I love you.”

“I love you so much, Baby.” She stayed there holding him as he cried himself to sleep and then just stared at him for hours. Dan needed to get it all out. He’d been holding it in since she left and he needed to cry. Em held him and ran her fingers through his hair and watched as he finally fell into some kind of a restful sleep.

It was another disturbed night for her but she woke to banging on the hotel room door, Dan turning his head into her to get away from it.

“One minute, Baby. Lemme get it.” She squeezed his shoulder before answering the door. Michael was on the other side, his face changing when he saw her attire.

“Dan’s meant to be at breakfast, what’s going on? Why are you…?” He trailed off and indicated to her outfit.

“It was a bad night. Order something for Dan for breakfast, we’ll be down in fifteen. Order me some toast please? Just toast, and if they’ve got smooth peanut butter some of that too. Otherwise plain toast.”

“Can you make it ten?” If she was honest she didn’t think she could make it in fifteen, but ten was definitely out of the question.”

“Fifteen. We’ll be down.”

Getting Dan up and changed was hard but she did it, putting on yet another merch tee and carrying a bag he gave her. Everything screamed “I’m Daniel Ricciardo’s girlfriend” and she didn’t care that it did. She needed to be his to the world. Em was broken and battered and in pain, but her Danny needed her. So she was standing beside him and staring down the world while holding his hand and supporting him because that was what he needed. She could do this.

Walking into breakfast the mood at the table was quiet. They all ate something, Dan swapping the bowl of yogurt and granola at her place for his egg white omelette.

“Mate that was-“

“Em doesn’t eat mixed up food. And she doesn’t eat granola because of the texture. At least this way she’s eating something. When have you ever seen her eat granola?” Michael shushed at Dan’s words, at the clear tension in both of their shoulders. She picked at the omelette before passing more than half of it back to Dan. He was the one racing. He needed to eat. The fucking race.

Arriving to the paddock had her heart in her throat. This was race day. The big event. There were cameras about to be on her and as little as she wanted to see them she knew it had to happen. Sitting in the back of the car Dan looked across at her.

“You can wait for me to go through. I don’t mind.”

“I’m going inside holding your hand. I’m a wag now, i have to act the part. Right?” He grinned at her but the smile didn’t reach his eyes this time.

“Love you.”

“I love you too.”

Her pass scanned easily and let her through the turnstiles as the photographers at the entrance got a picture of Dan waiting for her while holding his hand out. She ignored the loud shouts and just focused on moving forward one step at a time. Dan’s hand was a comforting weight in hers as she kept one foot going in front of the other.

“Emma! Dan! Over here!” The calls were coming from each side but her sunglasses hid her worry. Instead they made it to the FIA building before someone else arrived and attention was taken away from them. It was a relief and she was able to relax a little bit. Race mornings were always hectic and she kissed Dan goodbye before sitting in front of McLaren with a coffee to watch the paddock go by.

“Is this seat taken?” She turned and saw Carmen asking, smiling and gesturing for the younger woman to sit down. They’d texted once or twice, given each other cafe recommendations for London and chatted when they saw each other in the paddock. “Welcome to the official ‘I’m dating a Formula One driver’ group. How’re you doing with the media attention?”

“It’s a lot.” Carmen knew what it was like, Em was able to be as honest as possible with her. “I mean I had it anyway because of work and all the speculation. But this is different. Plus I haven’t been around so yeah, it’s a lot. Hopefully it’ll die down.”

“It will. It’s bad the first couple of races but then it’ll relax because you’re there most weekends. You’ll be fine. I just wanted to check in because I know you were sick. Are you feeling better?”

The nerves and worry and fear from the night before were coming back in full force but she bit her tongue and nodded until she was ready to speak. “It’s gonna take time. But I’m getting there.”

“If you want to talk about it I’m here. I get the going from being in the normal world and then diving in here. Or if you want to get food or a coffee. Lily will be in Silverstone for Alex’s home race. We’re both going to get food the Thursday before. You’re welcome to come for dinner with us as just the girls.”

“Maybe? Dan’s parents are in Europe, they’ll be in England then. Plus we’re trying to find somewhere to live. It’s a whole thing.”

“The offer is there. Especially race weeks if you have time away from work. If I don’t see you later I’ll see you in Montreal? Susie asked if I knew if you were going. She said to say thanks about that restaurant in Melbourne, Jack loved it.”

“Tell her she’s welcome. And yeah, I’ll be in Montreal but it depends how I feel? I’m still doing a slow return to work so we’ll see how it goes.”

She watched Carmen walk away as her hair shone in the sun, effortlessly walking around the paddock like a model. Would she ever get to that stage? She could do it when Dan was at Renault, but most of that was because she blended into everyone when she wore the Renault shirts. It was different now.

Her spot outside hospitality meant that she could people watch while she did some googling. Searches for online therapy turned to hybrid therapy and finding someone she could see in person when she was in London. One therapist had open slots so she booked an initial appointment online. The time difference would suck while she was in Montreal but it was worth it. She needed this. She needed to work through the pain and the grief and the heartbreak she felt over the last few months because Dan needed her and she needed to keep him together.

She went to lunch with the boys and Dan before standing in the back of the garage and kissing the side of his helmet before he got into the car to bring it out to the grid.

“Go fast and be safe, ok?” She looked into his eyes, visor still up. “I love you no matter what happens. I promise.”

A squeeze of her hands was everything Dan needed to do to show his love and she stood in her spot in the garage just waiting. Her pass gave her grid access but she never went up there. Going on the grid felt like she’d be a distraction.

Watching Dan cross the line in P6 made her grin, hugging Blake close. She knew it wasn’t enough. Something in her knew that anything short of a race win wouldn’t be enough. But he beat Lando and that was what she really cared about. She would get to walk out of the paddock holding Dan’s hand, and the next morning they were flying straight to Montreal to have a couple of days together before the chaos of the next race began.

She could do this. She could do it. She wasn’t going to break. She was going to make sure that she kept going forward. For her, and for Dan.

Taglist: @dr3lover @sabrinaselina55 @majx00 @tall-tanned-tattoo @lovingdennishauger @lauehr @msolbesg @f1medlife @idkwtfimdoing2 @leclercsbae @hiphopdancer101universe @mehrmonga @lewispool @saintandrea-droidsmuggler @coldheartedmar @sugarbabygirlofdaddy @nonsensical-nonce @a-distantdreamer @tita010 @leslizzle @javden @mloyer @saintandrea-droidsmuggler @magical-imagination-kgp @danarysstormborn @kakorrhaphiphobia @g-l-o-b-e-w-h-o-r-e @elizanav @neiich @luckyladycreator2 @scotlynaurora @belledawnidk

[fieriframes]

[So, it's places like these, the real-deal Italian spots]

[myhauntedsalem]

The Ghost Monk of Newby Church

This photo, taken of the altar at the ‘Skelton-cum-Newby Church of Christ the Consoler’ in 1963, created a sensation when published. It was found in many books detailing the paranormal throughout the 1980’s.

The figure of a ‘monk’ standing to the right of the altar was not present when Reverend K. F. Lords took the photo.

The Church had no stories or experiences of the paranormal, and to date no one has been able to explain who the figure may be.

The photo you see here was taken by Reverend K.F. Lords in 1963. The focus of the picture was the altar in the Church of Christ the Consoler found in Skelton-cum-Newby in North Yorkshire, England.

At the time the Reverend had seen nothing out of the ordinary but, upon processing, the photos showed a curious and frightening extra. A hooded/cowled monk like figure is clearly visible (though a little transparent) standing to the right of the altar.

The figures arms seem to be folded together in a typical ‘monk-like’ pose and its long robes clearly cover the feet and drape over the step it is standing on.

But most intriguing of all is the long cloth facemask that occludes the figures face except for two eye holes. It is this mask that gives it the air of something one may see in a horror movie (it is often referred to as a ‘Scream’ mask).

Understandably the Reverend was shocked to see the figure in his photo.

There has never been stories of paranormal events that have taken place within the church. At the time the photo was taken the church had not yet seen a century of existence. Actually the reason why the church was built is interesting in itself.

In April 1870 Frederick Vyner, son in law to the 1st Marquess of Ripon (essentially a nobleman of hereditary rank… aka a very important person) and several other important Italian and British tourists were travelling through Greece when they were ambushed and abducted by Greek Brigands.

On the 11th of April a large ransom was demanded for the release of the diplomats, lords, councilmen and other people of note including Frederick

Although some of the funds were gathered and paid to the brigands a failed rescue attempt saw Frederick and two of his companions murdered. Fredericks mother saw to it that the remainder of the ransom that had been raised would be used to construct two churches in memory of her son; The Church of Christ the Consoler in Newby (upon her own land) and the near identical St Mary’s Church at Studley Royal (on Fredericks sisters land).

Fredericks last written words while held in captivity were “we must trust to God that we may die bravely as Englishmen should do.”

Construction of the Newby Church began in 1871 and was complete by 1876 making it a not very old church by English standards. It is also doubtful that due to its age (or lack thereof) that any monks would have taken up residence within the church or its grounds.

As for the photo itself, straight away people will say it’s just a double exposure. It certainly looks like one with the near uniformity in the transparency.

However over the years groups of experts, some times independent and sometimes hired by larger entities (the BBC for example), have taken a close look and can not find proof that a double exposure is at play here. These same analysts have spotted and proven frauds before but the Newby photo seems to have them stumped.

Could it be that this example of a ‘too good to be true’ and ‘looks totally dodgy’ photo taken by a Reverend of the church in 1963 is the real deal?

[istorkyou]

A Thousand Battles (Modern Ivar AU)

A modern!Ivar x F OC (Julietta Lothbrok)

Warnings - Gun and knife violence, death, language, alcohol use.

Synopsis - Julietta wakes up with no memory of her life or her husband, Ivar. Will it ever return? Does she want it to?

Word Count-

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Masterlist

Chapter 12

“Baby? Where are you?” Ivar bellows as he walks through the door. He has had an amazing day business wise. Legitimate deals made, lots of money, lots of real estate acquired, a great day for The Lothbroks and he is in the best mood he’s been in for a long while.

“I’m in the studio.”

He hurries to her. “Baby, get your fine ass ready, we are going out tonight!” He nudges her off her stool and smacks her ass lightly.

“Going out? Up to the main house?” The familiar flutter of dread in her stomach starts.

“Nope. I’m taking you out for a meal and then we are meeting the brothers and wives after to go dancing. Well, you will be dancing, I will be watching you like a perv on the sidelines. We had a very productive work day and we are all going out to celebrate.”

“You are joking.” But she can see from his face he isn’t joking at all. She squeals in delight at the prospect of a date, some time away from the house, just the two of them and then dancing after, she squeals again. “What shall I wear?”

“The sexiest thing you own. The more skin the better,” he grabs her face and kisses her roughly. “Hang on,” he checks his watch, “yep, we’ve got time. Get naked, I want to fuck you before we go out.”

————————

Two hours later they are sitting in a dimly lit Italian restaurant enjoying pasta, wine and the conversation, no security guards invading their privacy, Ivar instructed them to stay outside the restaurant.

Ivar can’t keep his hands off of her in her strappy, floaty, rose gold, silk dress that clings to her exactly where it should.

“I’ve got to stop eating, I’m going to pop!” she sits back giving her stomach a pat. “Any more food and I won’t be up for dancing later.”

“Oh you better dance for me, I want to see that dress on the dance floor.”

He carries on eating and she sits back watching her husband with pride. He really is beautiful to look at and she is so happy to be on his arm. The niggling thoughts threatening to drag her happiness down are pushed away quickly. Locked in the depths where they belong. Compartmentalised expertly.

She sees his eyes flit to the door and then do a double take, straightening his spine, hand disappearing under the table. As his face turns to stone her stomach drops. She doesn’t look round. She can hear a group of men, seven she thinks, enter the restaurant and sit down, demanding menus and drinks. In Russian.

Ivar observes them, getting his phone out and texting quickly.

She listens to the men, she doesn’t recognise any of the voices as anyone from her past, but she is loath to look around and check, just in case. Then their conversation changes

“Security for who? Fucking useless. Even more useless now!” The whole party erupts in laughter.

Her stomach drops to her shoes but she needs to keep herself in check.

“Are you ok, Ivar? Who did you text.”

“No one, love, nothing to worry about.” But as she watches the reply come up on his screen and she can see the absolute dissatisfaction with the words he read, his jaw ticking in annoyance.

Then she hears it.

“Look over there. Is that a Lothbrok? Is that the cripple one? Fuck, was it his security?” The first one says.

“Jesus, it is him!” The second voice offers.

The third one confirms it. “That is definitely him. Look. It is him. No mistake. Well, well…”

She breathes in deeply through her nose. They are in trouble. “Ivar. Who can get here faster? Brothers or security?

“What? Why?” He glances past her and sees them staring at him. “Hvitserk is the closest. Security isn't answering.”

“They won’t answer. Call your brother. Do it, Ivar.”

He wastes no time and Hvitserk says he is five minutes away.

“Julietta?” Ivar questions her, eyebrows drawn close. “What is it?”

She glances over her shoulder and weighs them up in less than four seconds before turning back to Ivar.

They all have weapons, three are a real threat judging by their size and visible scarring. Two are older and likely the easiest to take out and two are unknown entities. The scariest of the group, the ones to be taken down first. She couldn’t make out which of them is the leader. She knows they aren’t Olegs men. There was no hint of recognition in their faces when they looked at hers.

“Look at the whore he is with. What I would do to her body…” she hears another say. She rolls her shoulders back, loosening the muscles subtlety. The word whore always makes her blood boil. If it comes to it she will kill that one first.

“We need to get out of here, Ivar. Let’s leave, I have a bad feeling.” First thing in any situation like this one, try and leave with no confrontation.

He peers around her, weighing up the men and she reads his face like a book. Ego. Pure, unadulterated ego and surety he can take them, but as he looks back at her she sees his face change as it dawns on him the situation he is in. In his mind his vulnerable wife is with him, totally helpless. If only she could tell him that she could take out all these men and not even break a sweat. But that is not possible.

He stands up first, doing up his suit button, head tipped arrogantly watching the group, as if daring them to challenge him. When he holds his hand out she sees the faintest hint of a tremble in it and when she puts her hand in he realises it’s fear for her, because he doesn’t know her capabilities.

They only get a few feet from their table before two of the men walk to them and Ivar pulls her behind him.

“You are Ivar Lothbrok?” One asks in English and casually opens his jacket to reveal his gun.

Ivar’s eyes travel to it and back to the giant man in front of him, not changing his expression at all. He turns his face ever so slightly to the side, eyes remain on the men in front of him and he addresses her. “My love, go and sit back down at the table in the corner. This won’t take long.”

The struggle inside of her is real, a waging war of being Liet but knowing it’s Etta who is needed here, to fight at the side of her husband. Luckily, at that moment Hvitserk strides in and takes his place at his brother's side.

“Evening Brother, it seems I have impeccable timing.”

Ivar smirks before addressing Liet again. “Sit down over there, love.” She takes a step into him letting the two knives she discreetly picked up off the tables slip from behind her forearm and tucks them both into the waistband of the back of his trousers. His head swivels to her, questioning her.

She kisses his cheek before whispering into his ear. “Two knives, love. Smallest guy first. He’s the threat.”

He frowns at her but she just nods at him, confirming his understanding and walks slowly to sit down, as instructed.

His attention turns back to the group. “I am Ivar Lothbrok. You are?”

The man laughs. “I am the man responsible for your death.”

Ivar and Hvitserk look at each other and start laughing. “What are you a Bond villain? Responsible for my death,” Ivar mocks mercilessly. “You want to make a name for yourself? We all put our guns over there..” he points to the far corner of the room, “..and we settle this with fists. Two against seven. You all look like you eat your spinach, shouldn’t be too hard now should it? My wife is here, I do not want bullets flying around in the presence of my woman.”

He takes his gun out first, bends down slowly and slides it across the floor to the other side of the room. They all look at each other, rattled by Ivar’s actions. A silent agreement is arrived at and they all do the same.

She takes notes of all the guns. She knows which she will go for if needs be.

Hvitserk does the same.

“Excellent. Now we fight like men.”

Whilst they are distracted Hvitserk punches the main one, breaking his nose and Ivar does the same to the smaller man.

In the commotion she slips around the fight and picks up two of the guns, kicking the others further away.

She looks back in time to see Ivar throw Hvitserk one of the knives she stashed on him and they both drive the blades into the flesh of two of the men. One of them gets the drop on Hvitserk who is knocked unconscious. When Ivar sees Hvitserk he screams at them, blood dripping from his face. Not his own blood.

A part of her she usually keeps locked away is released as she watches her fearless husband in action. She’s never seen him fight, never seen him violent. Gods the look on his face makes her want to rip his clothes off and fuck him here and now. Her senses return as she sees five of them start to surround him, circling him like sharks sniffing out blood in the water.

As Julietta watches Ivar screaming at them to come at him she knows she has no choice. There is no outcome in this that will end in anything other than the death of her beloved.

She has to expose her secret now or Ivar dies right in front of her eyes. She knows that showing who she really is, was, is signing her own death warrant but it’s that or she watches the love of her life get beaten to death.

No contest.

“Stop!” She screams in Russian. “Enough!”

The use of Russian stops all their feet and all heads in the room fly to her.

She straightens up, shoulder back, head lifted in defiance.

“Do you know who I am?” she asks in English, chin raised haughtily and she glides across the floor to stand coming to stop between Ivar and the men.

This is Etta.

“Julietta? Get behind me. What the fuck are you doing?” Ivar tries to grab her arm but she pulls away gently, eyes still on the men. With her hand behind her back she points to her leg showing Ivar her hitched up dress, showing him the two guns tucked into two leather garter belts. As she shifts her other hand discreetly she shows him a sharp knife tucked behind her arm, the hilt sitting in her hand, all completely concealed from the men.

The air behind her moves as Ivar steps towards her, she keeps her eyes on the men.

“Liet, what is happening?” He whispers.

She ignores him and asks them again, this time in Russian. “I asked you if you know who I am? I am the daughter of Oleg and this is not a fight you want. You are not my fathers men, so who do you work for? I suggest you tell me so I know who to report your deaths to.”

They look back and forth between each other, faces painted with ridiculous confusion.

“Answer me. I asked you a simple question. Are you all to stupid to reply?” She walks slowly, side stepping along the line of men in front of her. Her gaze dragging up and down the men. “Do I need to ask you in English? You don’t understand the mother tongue?” She mocks them, walking slowly in front of them.

Their eyes follow her, mouths agape like the idiots they are.

Julietta stops in front of one of them. “You. Answer me immediately.”

The man fumbles for words. “You are not Olegs daughter. Lying bitch. And you are here with him,” gesturing to Ivar, “the son of Olegs' sworn enemy? Bullshit.”

“Ah so that is your purpose, you have decided to make a name for yourselves but trying to kill my husband and my brother in law because they are my fathers enemies?” She tuts at them, scolding them like children as she glances over at Hvitserk, his chest is moving. Alive.

One moves slightly and she quickly lets the knife slip into her hand and points it at the man. “Uh.” She says quickly. “Do not move to me. That is not a very smart move, not that I expect smart moves from people like you. You want to make names for yourself tonight? My father doesn’t want them dead, you morons,” she spits the words dismissively.

They all look at each other in confusion until one bravely pipes up. “I’m to believe you are Russian mafia royalty? That you are married to him?! You look like nothing more than a whore the disgusting cripple has to pay to be with him.”

She swings her head towards the man speaking, again calling her a whore. She wants nothing more than to press her thumbs into the man’s eyeballs and hear him scream but she gathers her patience and rolls her eyes tutting again. “Well that is not very polite is it? Now, me and my husband are going to walk out of here and you will sit your stupid asses down and be grateful you are getting out with your lives. I love to hurt men like you and will kill if needs be. Do not give me any reason to take it that far. Do not underestimate me.”

She is waiting for their new leader to step up so she knows who to take out first.

“Liet?” Ivar’s confused voice comes from behind her. “Russian?”

“Ivar, my love, I will explain everything. Just not right now.” She looks slowly at him over shoulder. “Be ready baby,” she whispers, eyes flitting down, letting him know to grab the guns stashed on her.

“You are not going anywhere,” one shouts at her in English.

He’s the new leader then.

She replies in English. “It is a shame you have chosen this path. I did not wish to get blood on my pretty gown this evening. And my husband didn’t even get to finish his meal. Terribly inconsiderate of you all,” she drawls sarcastically.

She throws the knife at his throat and it lands exactly where she means it to, straight through his larynx, at the same time she feels Ivar take both guns. She spins to the left and blocks a punch from one, landing a headbutt into his nose, breaking it. She can hear gunshots from behind her and the thud of two falling bodies.

She breaks the leg of the last man standing before her and as he drops to his knees she gets behind him, holding his neck in the crook of her elbow.

“STOP!!” She screams in Russian as she sees an enemy with his gun at the temple of Hvitserk, still unconscious on the floor. She knows Ivar is safe, only one other left and Ivar’s gun is trained on the enemy, whose hands are up in surrender.

Everyone halts.

She addresses the man with the gun on her Hvitserk. “Put it down or your brother gets his neck snapped right here, right now.” The familial genes are evident in their bone structure. She thinks she said it in Russian but Ivar’s eyes flicking from her to his brother know she spoke English by mistake. “Your English is good?” He nods once. “I play no games here. Your brother will die if my husbands brother does. Except your brother will know it, he will feel his heart slow and he will feel his neck snap. Take your gun away from my brother's head and yours will live.” Julietta threatens with absolute resolve.

He hesitates for long enough that she tightens her grip on the neck of the man on his knees, feeling the heat from the trapped blood in his face. His brother debates for less than five seconds before he holds both hands up, the gun rolling on his trigger finger.

She only has to look at her husband to exchange thoughts with no words. She grabs the side of her captives head and wrenches it around until the crunch of bone and sinew fills the air and as she drops the enemy’s lifeless body to the floor Ivar puts bullets in the remaining two enemy brains.

She looks up quickly to find Ivar’s gun pointing straight at her forehead.

“Don’t! Please don’t, Ivar. I can explain! I promise!” Her hands are raised in surrender.

“Who the fuck are you?” his eyes are wild with confusion.

Her face crumbles. “I’m your wife.”

“You are not my wife. Tell me who you are right now or I swear to god, Liet, I will shoot you between the eyes.”

“Please don’t, Ivar. I am your wife. I… I… My father is Oleg.”

Chapter 13

[phonypizza]

Hello, Peppino. Here’s to the start of a hopefully normal day, like the kind you’ve probably dreamed of having for… oof. Wow. Let’s not even get into that. Anyway, this is just a nice, normal trip to the grocery store! Some might even say that this place is The Best In-a Town-a, with the kinds of bargains you can find! And while you’re restocking on whatever it was that you needed, a familiar face spots you as he steps into the aisle.

Seems like he’d expected to see you in a different aisle, with how he glanced back in confusion. Then again, he forgets how quickly you move, sometimes. It wasn't like there was more than one (real) Peppino currently in this store, after all. Come on, that would be absurd! The Italian chef moves at light speed, a much more logical explanation.

Not a word was spoken, at first, as he casually dropped a heap of groceries into your cart. Mostly boxes of pasta, a frozen pack of pizza rolls, and an overstuffed bag of air reading ‘I CAN'T BELIEVE IT'S NOT DORITO'S: NOW WITH EVEN FEWER CHIPS!’ on the front.

“I checked. They didn’t have the coffee ice cream.”

That’s it. That’s the extent of the explanation you’re getting.

Hello, gamer.

This is indeed a nice, normal trip to a grocery store. No need to wear sunglasses, no need to grab giant tubs of mayo to fend off an alien inva-- whoops, wrong game. Anyway, it's a nice. Normal. Trip to a grocery store. To buy grocery-related things. Maybe a familiar tune is playing over the loudspeaker, who knows.

Pino's currently flipping through his little coupon book as the Sausage Toppin stands on his shoulder to survey the deals. Occasionally it grunts as it spots an expired coupon, letting Pino know to yank the slip of paper out and crumple it into his pocket. He's so busy trying to coupon that at first, he doesn't notice anyone approaching his cart--

Sausage grunts louder in alarm, and Pino looks up as something hits the floor of his cart. His eyes widen momentarily before he looks at the stranger. Stranger?? Sort of??? Why's this person sort of... familiar to h-- What the fuck is thaaaaaaaaaat

"Well, that's-a not good, but..."

"Who are you and why did you put your-a groceries in my cart."

[briarrosedahl]

𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐀 𝐊𝐍𝐄𝐖 there is a bunch of storms coming at her since she decided to break the deal with the Dutch. Since the very beginning, she knew when would get herself into so much of issues to handle, but her life is already so miserable, more misery wouldn't make any difference to her. Perhaps if things were less hard she would not be able to handle things. Besides, she reached to the level of 'fuck off' to everyone, except a certain Frenchman. She tried to sneak into his room, but he wasn't there so she left.

Wandering around the castle, trying to seek Laurie, she finally reached an area where the royals and noblemen were training. Of course, the Italian princess visited the place where she normally finds him, but due to the time, he wasn't at their usual spot. She stole on the way to the training area, some jewelry and was checking them, and seeing if it was real or fake the golden necklace she got. The blade noises made her wake up from her daze, and she stayed behind a column, spying on the gentlemen training, a smile appeared on her delicate features as her dimples showed up, waiting patiently for Laurie to finish his 'battle'. She was very impressed with his performance. She never saw him in action like this... And she loves to find and learn new things about him.

Once the 'battle' seems to end, she got close to the balcony, clapping her hands. ❛ Bravo! Bellissimo! Magnifique! ❜ She says out loud to catch his attention, but she was trying her best to hide that she wasn't eating him with his eyes. In fact, she was failing. She tugged the piece of jewelry back into her pocket, and get down the mini stairs to get on the grounds where men were with their swords. She was near the entrance of the place.

@anxhoredheart​ 💙

[kitmoas]

if you were the one trapped married to Wanda in the hex, what would you like to be in there as far as stores and neighborhood places and who of your mutuals would you want to share that experience with?

I mean….this seems like this was already figured out was it not?

But as for places—boxlunch, a few good comic/funko stores, a good authentic italian spot, a really good like food court type place that has real restaurants and fast food but like the best of the best?, a movie theater, a corner store or two, a pet store for my dog, a juice store, a stuffie store, and a farmers market

As for mutuals—oh gosh, are they all allowed in the hex? I’ll call out…5…? @themidnightcrimson, @maximotts (with sammi they are package deal) @wandasdolly you @crescent-witch so i have someone to bully and I know @caroldantops has no idea what this is but I’m bringing you with me

Send me stuff for honesty hours