#the best ending song to ever exist me thinks

[msklassickilla]

Delirious | J. Uso|R. Reigns Eight

Summary: When Titania buys an old typewriter from a closing thrift store, she thinks it’s just a vintage gem—until the words she types start coming true. However, the typewriter doesn’t just bring fantasies to life—it twists them. Giving Titania way more than she bargained for.

Pairing: Titania Marshall (Black OC) x Jey Uso x Roman Reigns

Author’s Note: This story is another AU thing. So, it might align, or it might not. I will try my best to keep it current enough. Nonetheless, it’s mash up of a few things: That one episode of Goosebumps. That one episode of the Twilight Zone. And that movie by the same title, Delirious featuring John Candy. I’ma make it work. Plus, I like mystical spooky shit with a bit of Jerry Springer type mess.

Warning(s): Minor mentions of not detailed SMUT happening.

Disclaimer: This work of art is fictional in nature including the original characters created by me. I do not own any of the existing characters or lyrics from songs referenced in this story (if any). All rights belong to their respective owners with the exception of my original characters. This work is purely for entertainment purposes and is not intended to cause harm.

Eight

Titania sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the floor, her hands gripping the edge of the mattress. She needed to leave, if only for a little while. She needed space away from Jey, from the house, from the suffocating feeling that had been pressing down on her since their last conversation. Something about the way he had looked at her, the calm certainty in his voice when he told her they were moving, had left a weight in her chest that refused to go away.

But she couldn’t leave. Not yet. Jey would be back on the road soon, and when he left, she’d finally have a chance to think. She just had to hold out until then. She exhaled and forced herself to lie back, telling herself that by the time she woke up, he would already be getting ready to leave for the next city.

Except, when she opened her eyes the next morning, Jey was gone—but not in the way she had expected. The house was silent, no music playing from the kitchen, no smell of breakfast drifting in. He hadn’t made her anything, hadn’t left a note. At first, she thought maybe he had left for the airport early, but when she checked her phone, there was nothing from him. A slow, creeping feeling worked its way into her stomach. Something didn’t feel right.

Jey came home late that evening, looking as calm as ever. Titania had spent the whole day waiting for a text, a call, anything to confirm he was gone for work, but now, as he stepped inside like nothing was out of the ordinary, she realized she had been waiting for nothing. He tossed his keys onto the counter, loosened the collar of his shirt, and met her eyes with a casual smile.

“Took a few days off,” he said, like it was the most natural thing in the world. “Family emergency.”

Titania didn’t respond. She stood frozen, her fingers tightening around the glass of water she had been holding. He wasn’t leaving. He had no plans to leave. He was staying here. With her.

She didn’t sleep that night. The weight in her chest had grown heavier, thick and suffocating. Over the next few days, she tried to tell herself she was overreacting, that she was being ridiculous, but then she overheard Jey on the phone with Jimmy, casually telling him they would be in Florida by the end of the month. The words were spoken with such ease, such certainty, that it sent a spark of rage through her. She wanted to storm into the room and demand to know how he could keep making decisions for her, but something stopped her.

Titania knew arguing with Jey wouldn’t get her anywhere. The last time she pushed back, he had looked at her like she was just being difficult, like she was saying no to something that had already been decided. No, she needed to be smart about this. She needed time to think. She needed space.

She packed a bag, stuffing it into the spare room. It wasn’t much, just enough for a night or two in a hotel, but it was a start. Jey would shower eventually, or maybe he’d fall asleep early. Either way, she’d be gone before he could ask any questions.

When the night finally came, she crept out of bed, heart hammering, ears straining for any sound from Jey. He was still. His breathing was deep and steady. She hesitated only for a second before slipping out of the room, careful not to make a sound. The spare room was dark when she entered, and she reached blindly for her bag, fingers brushing against the cool metal of the typewriter. A sharp chill ran down her spine as she felt the distinct shape of paper sticking out of the roller.

Her breath caught.

Slowly, she turned on the lamp and looked down. There was a new message.

She didn’t type it.

The words stood out in dark ink, crisp and final.

"She asked to be loved. And till death will he love her. Unless…"

Titania’s pulse pounded in her ears. Her fingers curled around the edges of the paper as she tore it from the machine, ripping it to shreds before she could think. The pieces fluttered to the ground, her breath coming in short, uneven gasps.

She had to go. Now.

She grabbed her bag and bolted from the room, the darkness of the house pressing in on her. The living room was silent, the only sound was the steady hum of the fridge in the kitchen. She reached the front door and fumbled with the lock, her fingers clumsy, her mind racing.

The lamp flicked on.

Titania’s stomach dropped.

Jey was sitting on the couch, arms resting on his knees, watching her with an expression she had never seen before.

"You trying to leave me, Tee?" His voice was calm, but there was something beneath it, something that made her blood run cold.

Titania’s fingers slipped from the doorknob. Jey tilted his head slightly, eyes locked on hers, unreadable and steady. He didn’t look angry. He didn’t even look surprised. He just looked like a man who already knew how this night was going to end.

----

Titania’s heart pounded in her chest, the bag in her hand feeling heavier than it should. Jey sat there, his elbows resting on his knees, fingers loosely clasped as he watched her. The overhead lamp cast long shadows across his face, making his expression unreadable, but there was something in the way he was looking at her that sent a cold ripple down her spine.

She swallowed hard, forcing herself to stay still, to keep her face neutral even as her mind screamed at her to move. He was just upstairs. She had felt his body beside hers, the steady rise and fall of his breath under the covers. She had heard nothing—no footsteps, no doors opening, no creaks of the floorboards.

So how was he sitting here now?

Jey rubbed his temples, exhaling like he was trying to keep his patience in check. "I asked you a question, Tee." His voice was steady, but there was an edge to it now. "Were you trying to leave me?"

Titania’s throat felt dry. She forced herself to shake her head. "I just… I needed to get out for a little bit. Clear my head."

Jey’s eyes stayed locked on hers, unreadable. He leaned back against the couch, tapping his fingers against his knee. His silence made her stomach churn. He was thinking, processing, deciding how to react.

Then he let out a slow breath, nodding once. "You should’ve just told me," he said finally, the tension in his shoulders easing—if only slightly.

Titania released the breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. Maybe that was it. Maybe she could still smooth this over.

But Jey wasn’t done.

He patted the space beside him. "Come sit with me."

Something about the way he said it made her hesitate.

Jey tilted his head slightly, watching her closely. "Come on, Tee. Let’s talk."

Titania’s grip on the bag tightened. She could still leave. She could turn and run out the door right now. But the way Jey was watching her made her feel like he already knew she wouldn’t.

Slowly, she moved toward the couch, sitting stiffly beside him. The air between them was thick, her pulse thrumming in her ears.

Jey ran a hand down his face, shaking his head slightly. "I get it. You’re stressed. You feel like things are moving too fast." His tone was softer now, almost soothing, like he was trying to guide her to a conclusion he had already reached. "But Tee, we can’t wait. I already closed on the house."

Titania’s breath stalled.

She turned her head slowly, eyes narrowing. "What?"

Jey pulled out his phone and handed it to her. "It’s done. We move at the end of the month."

Titania stared at the screen, her hands trembling as she scrolled through the pictures. The house was perfect. Everything she had ever wanted in a dream home. The layout, the location, even the color of the walls—every tiny detail matched the house she had imagined in passing.

But she had never told Jey about it. She had never searched for this house. She had never even known it existed. And yet, here it was, already theirs.

She turned back to him, voice unsteady. "How did you know?"

Jey smiled. "Because I know you."

The words should have been reassuring, comforting even. Instead, they sent a chill through her. Because that wasn’t an answer. And deep down, Titania knew she would never get one.

----

Titania barely remembered going to bed that night. She had argued—at least, she thought she had. Maybe not with words, but with silence, with the way her body had gone stiff next to Jey on the couch, with the way she had stared at him, waiting for an explanation he never gave. But in the end, it hadn’t mattered.

Jey was unmoved, unaffected, as if her hesitation was nothing more than a minor inconvenience. He had made up his mind. The house was bought. The move was happening. And there was nothing left to discuss.

She wanted to scream.

Instead, she lay awake beside him, staring at the ceiling while Jey slept soundly, his arm draped over her waist like an anchor. The weight of it should have been comforting. She had spent years fantasizing about this—being wrapped up in him, being the woman he came home to.

But this wasn’t a fantasy anymore. This was real. And something about it felt wrong.

Jey had given her everything she asked for—so why did it feel like she was losing herself in the process? The typewriter’s message clawed its way back into her mind.

She asked to be loved. And till death will he love her. Unless…

Unless what?

Titania swallowed hard and turned onto her side, shutting her eyes, willing herself to sleep.

----

The next few days passed in a blur, Jey moving through the house with the same confidence he always had, as if nothing was out of place, as if their life was already settled. Titania, on the other hand, felt unmoored. She drifted through conversations, nodded in the right places, let herself get pulled into his warmth when he reached for her, but there was a nagging sensation in the back of her mind that refused to quiet.

That night, Jey opened a bottle of wine and poured her a glass, a quiet truce after days of tension. One glass turned into two, then four, and for a little while, she let herself believe this could still be normal. Jey was affectionate, teasing, his fingers tracing idle patterns along her arm as they talked about nothing in particular.

Then her phone buzzed.

She reached for it, already feeling hazy from the wine, but the moment she saw the name on the screen, she hesitated.

Hakeem.

A coworker. Nothing more. Jey’s mood shifted instantly.

Titania hesitated before answering, feeling Jey’s gaze on her as she lifted the phone to her ear. "Hey, what’s up?"

Hakeem’s voice was casual, asking about a project deadline, something minor, but she barely processed the words because Jey was staring at her like he was trying to see straight through her. His fingers, which had been resting lightly on her thigh, twitched slightly before curling against the fabric of her leggings.

She kept the call brief, assuring Hakeem she’d handle it, then hung up, setting the phone aside like it didn’t matter. But Jey was already shifting closer, his jaw tight.

"Who’s he?"

Titania blinked, confused. "What?"

Jey’s voice was lower now, softer but with an unmistakable edge. "Who’s Hakeem?"

She let out a short laugh, shaking her head. "A coworker. We barely talk outside of work."

Jey didn’t look convinced. He studied her for a moment, his thumb brushing idly against her knee. "You sure about that?"

Titania tensed. "Jey, come on. He’s just a coworker. Nothing more, nothing less."

Jey hummed, but the sound didn’t hold any real agreement. His fingers tightened against her leg, his touch no longer light, no longer teasing. His voice dropped even lower, almost thoughtful. "Show me."

Her pulse skipped. "Pardon?"

His grip shifted, his palm sliding higher, fingers tracing the curve of her hip. "Show me I’m the only man for you."

Titania’s breath caught. She didn’t know why her heart was racing—if it was from the look in his eyes, from the way he was touching her, or from something deeper, something colder that she didn’t want to acknowledge.

She could have argued. She could have told him how ridiculous he was being. But she was tired. Of fighting, of thinking, of questioning every little thing. She wanted to end the night on good terms. She wanted to believe things could still be good between them.

So, she gave in.

Jey didn’t just take her that night—he claimed her. His touch was demanding, his grip bruising, his lips hot against her skin as he whispered, "Mine," over and over, like a promise. Like a declaration he didn’t want her to forget.

Titania clung to him, her body pliant beneath his, but somewhere in the back of her mind, a small voice whispered that this wasn’t passion. This was possession. And it wasn’t going to stop, not now or perhaps ever.

----

Titania lay awake long after Jey had drifted off, staring at the ceiling while his arm lay heavy across her waist. Her body still hummed from the intensity of their time together, but her mind refused to quiet. She replayed every touch, every whispered word, searching for something—anything—that made her feel like herself again.

Jey had always been passionate but tonight had felt different. There had been something beneath his touches, something raw, something final. Like he wasn’t just making love to her. Like he was sealing something in place.

She shifted carefully, trying not to wake him, and turned onto her side, facing the darkened room. Her eyes landed on the open doorway leading to the hall, the faintest sliver of light spilling from the spare room.

The typewriter was waiting.

Titania inhaled sharply, a strange pull working its way through her chest. She could almost hear it, the phantom click of keys pressing down, the smooth roll of paper feeding into the machine.

It wanted to be used.

Jey’s breath was warm against the back of her neck as he shifted in his sleep, tightening his hold around her. She stiffened, her pulse kicking up when she felt him murmur something low and drowsy against her skin.

It took her a second to register the word.

"Mine."

Titania swallowed hard, staring at the darkness ahead of her.

She could write happiness.

But what if she already had? And what if this was it?

----

The days passed in a blur of heat and wine and tangled sheets. Jey’s hands were everywhere, his touch lingering long after he left the room. He had taken his days off seriously, spending every moment with her, on her, inside her, as if trying to fill any space that wasn’t occupied by him. It was overwhelming, dizzying, and Titania wasn’t sure if she was slipping deeper into love or if she was simply being consumed.

She lost track of how many times they made love, how many times he whispered, “You know you’re mine, right?” into her skin like a prayer. She stopped questioning the way he looked at her, like he could see something in her that even she didn’t recognize.

But the moment he left, the spell broke.

Titania stood in the empty house, wrapped in a robe, staring at the front door long after Jey had walked out of it. The silence felt foreign, the air too still without him there. And for the first time in days, she could think clearly.

She needed answers.

The old man who sold her the typewriter was gone, vanished like smoke, but there had to be someone who could help her understand what she had gotten herself into. She had never believed in fortune-telling or psychics, but she also hadn’t believed in objects that could rewrite reality either.

Desperate times called for desperate measures.

After an hour of searching online, she found a local fortune teller. Highly rated. Well-reviewed. Close enough to drive to. Titania hesitated for only a moment before booking an appointment for later that day.

The drive was quiet, the GPS leading her away from the main roads, deeper into the outskirts of town. When she finally pulled up, she found herself in front of a small, unassuming house, the kind that looked like it had been lived in for generations. A wooden sign on the porch read Readings by Madame V in neat, curling script.

Titania climbed out of the car, smoothing her hands over her jeans as she made her way up the steps. The second she pushed open the door, a wave of warm, spiced air wrapped around her, carrying the scent of burning incense and something earthy, something older than the space itself.

The room was dimly lit, the walls lined with shelves filled with candles, crystals, and small trinkets. In the center of the room sat a circular table covered in a deep purple cloth, and behind it, a woman with piercing dark eyes and silver-threaded locs watched her with an unreadable expression.

“You’ve been searching for something,” the woman said before Titania could introduce herself.

Titania swallowed, glancing toward the empty chair. “Can you help me?”

The woman—Madame V—gestured for her to sit.

Titania lowered herself into the chair, her fingers twisting in her lap. She had no idea what to ask, no idea where to start. But the moment she looked up, Madame V tilted her head slightly, her eyes narrowing as if she was seeing something beneath Titania’s skin.

"You’ve touched something you shouldn’t have," she murmured.

Titania’s stomach tightened. "What?"

Madame V reached for a deck of tarot cards, shuffling them between her fingers with practiced ease. "There’s something woven into your fate now, something unnatural. A choice made. A price yet to be paid."

Titania’s throat felt tight. She didn’t know why, but she didn’t want to hear the answer. She thought about standing up, about leaving before this conversation could go any further, but something kept her rooted to the chair.

Madame V laid out the first card. The Lovers.

Titania let out a shaky breath. Love. Desire. A choice.

Madame V laid down the second card. The Devil.

Her pulse skipped.

Obsession. Power. Control.

The third card. The Tower.

Titania’s stomach dropped.

The Tower. Upheaval. Destruction. The undoing of everything.

Titania blinked, her fingers curling against her thighs.

Madame V studied the spread for a long moment, then lifted her gaze to Titania, expression unreadable. "You wanted love."

Titania swallowed. "Yes."

Madame V tapped a finger against The Devil card. "And now you have it."

A chill ran through her.

"You got what you asked for," Madame V continued, her voice calm, measured. "But love is never free. It always demands something in return."

Titania tried to steady her breath. "What does that mean?"

Madame V’s eyes flickered toward the cards again, her brow furrowing slightly. "There are two paths before you. One leads to the man you desired, the one who holds you now." She tapped the first card.

Titania felt a pit form in her stomach. "And the other?"

Madame V flipped over a fourth card without hesitation.

Titania’s breath stalled. The Moon.

Illusions. Secrets. Temptation.

Madame V exhaled, watching Titania closely. "The other leads to the man who will test your fate."

A cold wave of understanding washed over her. She didn’t need a name. She already knew.

Roman.

Her mind flashed back to the moments she had spent watching him, the way his presence demanded attention without effort. The way her heart had stuttered the first time she had seen him, even before she had touched the typewriter.

Was this always going to happen? Had she written this, too?

Madame V leaned forward slightly, her eyes dark and knowing. "Be careful what you ask for," she warned. "The desires of the heart are often a want not a need. The heart can be a prison. And you’ll build that prison with your bare hands if you don’t take heed of the difference between the two.”

Titania sat frozen, her fingers digging into her lap. She had come here for answers. Instead, she left with a warning.

----

Titania hadn’t slept. She had left Madame V’s shop with a heaviness in her chest that refused to go away, her mind spinning with everything the woman had said. The cards, the warnings, the implication that she had trapped herself in something she could no longer control. The heart can be a prison. The words echoed in her skull long after she had gotten back home, and when she finally collapsed into bed, she lay awake staring at the ceiling, feeling Jey’s absence more acutely than she ever had before.

She had wanted love. That much was true. But now she was starting to wonder if she had given up too much of herself in the process. Had the typewriter brought her everything she asked for, or had it twisted her words into something she no longer recognized? The thought made her stomach turn, and for the first time in a long time, she wished she could talk to someone who wasn’t tangled in the reality she had created.

The next morning, she picked up her phone and called Mia.

It rang a few times before her best friend’s familiar voice filled the line, bright and easy. "Tee! You finally crawling out of your love nest to call me?"

Titania let out a small laugh, but it felt hollow. "Something like that."

Mia sighed dramatically. "Girl, I was starting to think you forgot about me again. How’s everything? Jey still spoiling you rotten?"

Titania hesitated. Mia only knew the version of Jey that Titania had written for her—the charming, affectionate man who adored her, the one Mia had no reason to think was anything but perfect. If she told the truth now, would Mia even believe her?

"Yeah," she said finally, forcing her voice to stay light. "He’s… definitely something."

Mia laughed. "I bet. You’ve been on cloud nine ever since y’all got together. What’s up, though? You sound off."

Titania exhaled, leaning back against the couch. "I just—I needed to talk to you about something. Jey wants to move. To Florida."

Mia hummed thoughtfully. "I mean… that makes sense, right? His family’s there, and you work from home. You don’t sound excited about it, though."

Titania swallowed, gripping the phone tighter. "It’s just happening really fast. Like, I barely had time to process it before he started making plans. He already bought the house."

Mia let out a low whistle. "Damn. He really locked you down, huh?"

Titania didn’t respond. She couldn’t.

"But honestly, Tee, maybe a change of scenery is what you need," Mia continued. "You’ve been in the same place for so long. Maybe moving with down there with Jey is the start of something good."

Titania closed her eyes. The problem was, she wasn’t sure this had ever been her choice to begin with.

Mia was still talking, but Titania’s mind was already drifting. Florida. Her family was in Atlanta, only a few hours away, which meant she’d be closer to them. That should have reassured her, should have made the move feel easier. But when she thought about Florida, her mind didn’t go to her parents or her siblings.

It went to Roman.

Her stomach knotted at the thought, and she shook her head, trying to push it away. But the feeling lingered, a quiet pull, like a thread being tugged loose. The fortune teller’s words crawled back into her mind. The other leads to the man who will test your fate. She had said it like it was inevitable, like no matter what Titania did, she would end up standing at some kind of crossroads.

Her pulse quickened, and she sat up, rubbing her hands over her face. She needed to stop. Needed to focus on what mattered. She was with Jey. They had a future together. This was what she had wanted.

She wasn’t going to fight fate anymore.

That night, after tossing and turning for hours, Titania got out of bed and walked toward the spare room, her fingers trembling slightly as she turned on the lamp. The typewriter sat there, waiting, as if it had known she would come back to it. She stared at the blank page, heart pounding, then slowly reached for the keys.

Her fingers hovered over them for a moment before she started to type.

"Titania was happy. Happy with the move, happy with Jey, happy with whatever came next."

She sat back, staring at the words. It was done. But as she sat there, something inside her twisted uncomfortably. It should have been simple. It should have felt like relief.

Instead, all she felt was the creeping, nauseating certainty that happiness was never as simple as it seemed. And that somehow, some way, this was only the beginning of something… something she couldn’t undo.

----

Read Chapter 9... (coming soon)

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[itspileofgoodthings]

tags continued from prev post.

[aviangrian]

thank god chappell roan didn’t release good luck babe in summer 22!

[enhard]

⋆˙⟡ monster | lee heeseung

: when two rivals in an entertainment company turned late-night lovers, no strings attached… or is it something else?

pairing: ceo!l.hs x fem!reader

CW: smut, enemies to fwb to lovers trope??, pwp (3 smut scenes omg), hate sex, age gap: heeseung is 29, reader is 24, usage of condoms, riding, oral sex (both receiving), cum eating, some pet names, insults?, lots of profanity lmk if i missed anything

notes: couldn’t stop thinking about this while listening to monster by gaga. crazycrazy

wc: 7.3k words (MDNI)

There was only one thing you hated more than useless things in your timetable. It was the asshole of the whole company, Lee Heeseung. The more conversations you heard his name in, the more you despised his existence.

His ego was so high it could hit a plane, the way he would talk about his compositions made you wanna throw up. He praised himself so much, and you started wondering if he was just a huge narcissist or if we were insecure of his writing skills. Luckily, you never saw him around often as you were really caught up in your own work. Having to compose songs all the time for singers was not an easy task. Your chairman was an even bigger asshole than Heeseung, always giving you all the work. You had to not only compose songs from start to finish, but you also had to edit and mix the voices, help the singers use the right tones and so much more stuff that wasn’t originally included in your job plan.

Usually, you would stay at the office overtime, your eyes darkened with tiredness. It was a miracle you haven’t fallen asleep all this time.

 You looked at the time,

 [01:54 AM]

“Great.” You sigh. Your shift ended at 12 AM. What the fuck are you still doing here? It’s quiet in the whole building, only clicking sounds can be heard from your keyboard. You’re all alone with a few bodyguards left in the company. You groan, your head pounding from the intense light of your pc. All you want now is to get back to your apartment just to greet your cat Juno.  He’s your only best friend in this cursed city of New York, he’s a soft and fluffy black and white cat, with heterochromia eyes, left eye blue and right eye brown. You talk to him all the time, even though he can’t hold conversations he’s the best listener you’ve ever encountered. Better than your ex-boyfriends, that’s for sure.

As the clock reads [02:29], you’re more than ready to go home. You gather all your things, wish a great night to all the security people there and finally get out of that stupid building. You get your car keys out of your bag, driving home in your black i8. When you get home you feed your cat, finally plopping in your bed and falling asleep instantly.

You woke up due to your phone ringing at around 10 am with the hugest headache you’ve had. You palm your forehead, grabbing your phone with your other hand. Your co-worker, Yena, is calling you. You pick up as fast as you can, moaning into the phone due to being exhausted out of your mind.

“Yeah… Yena hey….” You say with half a mouth.

“Hey girl, are you coming to work? Today’s the showcasing, have you forgotten?”

Oh, fucking hell. You totally forgot.

A showcasing happens when all composers need to show the work they did in a few months’ time. You need to turn in all the songs you’ve made in this time, whilst competing with your other co-workers to be the best one, getting the title of the best songwriter of the month. Your company likes making leaderboards, only adding onto your stress of being the best. Of course, last month’s songwriter was Heeseung, but you thought the judges were so biased over him… you knew you could take him down this month.

“Right… I’ll be there soon just let me get ready.” You say, already dreading the idea of getting out of bed.

She hangs up, letting you wash up quickly. You fix up your hair, put on your suit and do a bit of makeup. You get your badge with your name on it and out you are. By the time you arrive at the company you’re already late… the higherups there scolding you for it.

“Please try to make it on time, you know how important this is.”

You sigh. How could they expect you to be there early when you went home at almost 3 AM last night?

“Okay, okay I’m sorry. I’m here now.” You add.

After you come out of your office to get your suitcase that had your files, you bump into the last person you wanted to see there. He throws you a cheeky smile, not even apologizing for giving you a shoulder.

“Oh, if it isn’t the famous miss L/n! Ready to get your dreams crushed by my songs again?” you scoff at him, crossing your arms. “Yeah right, like I’d let a scumbag like you take my title. I don’t have anything to prove to you, stay in your lane.”

He raises his eyebrows at your response, as you would normally walk away if he told you anything. “Oh is it miss complaint now? Let me actually show you how this job is done, im your ceo for a reason.” he suddenly stops smiling to give you a glare.

“You don’t intimidate me Mr. Lee, right on the contrary, you make me want to laugh.” you say and turn around, not wanting to waste your time with such a man. His sleek smile creeps back onto his face as he walks into his own office.

A few minutes later, you get back to the front, everyone already waiting there with their work. You stand next to Yena, holding the tank of papers in hand tightly.

Yena could tell you’re nervous, so she extended one hand up to yours just to squeeze it, calming you down a bit. Your other co-workers were not a threat at all, but Heeseung was the one person you wanted to bring down. You wanted to wipe that stupid smile off his face. After much judging and testing, with recitals and rehearsals for the songs, the judges finally decided the points accorded to the candidates. The others already had way too little points to worry you, but you, Yena and Heeseung were left.

“Choi Yena, 127 points.” She sighed of relief. A sizeable number overall, but now it depends on what you and Heeseung did.

“Lee Heeseung, 140 points.” His eyes widen. There is a chance that you might win. You might take him over… You might take his place. No way, right?

After a good minute of silence, they finally list your points.

“L/n Y/n, 139 points.” You almost fall to your knees. Out of all chances, how could this happen to you?? You close your eyes and cover your ears before you go insane.

You let him win, again.

“Therefore, our winner this month will be Lee Heeseung, the winner of the last 3 months as well, Congratulations!” all you hear is buzzing in your ears. You grow sour of his name, of his voice, his face. You can’t stand his dumb mouth, dumb face, dumb voice. You can’t stand him at all, and you would do anything to see him fired or something. You know that won’t happen and it drives you crazy. Heeseung smiles, taking his prize in hand once again, his portrait remaining on the fame wall. He shakes hands with the judges before taking a good look at you.

You cannot look at him anymore, you just lower your gaze trying not to burst into tears. You worked so hard for this, yet he took away all your hope for a win. You storm out the room, sitting down at your desk to throw your head down on the wooden table.

One point. Seriously. This is ridiculous.

Well, you take a deep breath and continue with your shitty day. At some point in time, you get a knock on your office door. “Come in.” you say as you raise your eyes up to see who it is. “Oh Yena, hey.. sorry for not saying anything earlier…” you bite your lip.

“Don’t consume yourself over it, hey, that dude is a douche, okay? Do not let him get to you. You are better than him anyway.”

“Am I though? I mean… What if he is simply better than me. What if his songs are better than mine? What if his lyrics have more meaning than mine?”

“He is not better than you, and even if he will be proven to be, which I doubt, don’t ever let him know you think that.”

“I can’t be a narcissist just like him, Yena. If I am not as good as someone, I will take the responsibility on my shoulders and admit it.”

“See you’re already better than him, he would never” She laughs. You laugh back, although in your soul goes a fight between your ego and sincerity.

. . .

After the day ends, you finally go home early, not giving two fucks about what they might say or think, it is your right after all. Too bad that you get a message you dreamed of never getting, too bad it happened.

HELIX ENTERTAINMENT

“Good evening, members of the company. We are delighted to announce that tomorrow there will be a collaboration project between each other. The groups are arranged by the organisers, and they follow the lines of:

Now scrolling through all the pages, you search for your name. Oh, what are the chances.

Lee Heeseung & L/n Y/n”

Of course this had to happen, it would not have been you if it were not for your amazing luck.

“Oh, suck on it seriously.” You look at your phone in disbelief, while making yourself tea. “Juno can you believe this? This man is going to ruin my image and my life. I can’t stand him anymore I swear I might kill someone if this keeps happening.” Juno meows, probably because he wants a bit of peace, but you still took that as an agreement to what you said. “I know, I know. I guess it will be okay… hope he doesn’t ruin my career for life with this. I do not trust him.”

The next day, you shake your head while getting out of your car, glaring at the tall building with huge windows. You always glare while looking at it, but somehow this time was different. It wasn’t because you hated your job, it was because you had to see your partner. All the people who greeted you in the halls got a cold response, or no response at all. Might have been a shitty thing to do but honestly you weren’t in the mood for anything anymore. You just wanted this day to be over.

When you get into Heeseung’s office, seeing him rummaging through his papers, you just stood in the doorway… waiting for him to finish his work. He raises his head to look at you, his mood getting insignificantly worse when his eyes met yours. Before he gets to sigh, you cut him off.

“The feeling is mutual. I usually try to act nice, but I just cannot stand you no matter how hard I try.” You cross your arms while he goes back to his papers. “Then take a seat.” He responds in the coldest way, only making you furrow your eyebrows at his tone. “Okay damn…” you say under your breath while grabbing a chair to sit in front of his desk.

There are a few moments of silence, but you decide to ask him about the collaboration, same reason you’re here right now.

“Heese-” “It’s Mr. Lee for you.” You clear your throat annoyed. “Mr. Lee, I am only here to ask you about what we must do, can we focus on that?”

“Why would I make a project with someone as bad at writing as you?” he looks up at you again. You bite your cheek, barely being able to stand him anymore. You just look down to your thighs, grasping your palms together anxiously. Yuna told you to never be weak in front of him, but how could you not when he was so right?

“Please refrain from insulting my work and just take the organisations words, they put us together for this, so we need to do it.”

“If I let you work on this, you will just embarrass me in front of thousands of people. How about you just let me handle this? Go home, enjoy your days off. I’ll give you the credit.”

“You cannot just do everything alone; I do not care about days off I just want to work on this too. Please Mr. Lee.”

That is the first time he’s ever heard you say please to him. He hated your presence just as much as you hated his, why must you be at each other’s throats all the time? Simply because of rivalry or did other frustrations arise from both parties?

He licks his lips, finally giving in. “You can work on it with me Y/n. Just don’t disappoint me.”

“I promise I won’t. This matters so much to me.”

You follow him to his studio; he lets you get in first and that is when he locks the door behind you. You both sit down next to each other while you work on the song. He keeps acting weird throughout the recording and editing process, changing poses multiple times in a few minutes, sighing and fidgeting with his fingers. Halfway through the song you place your hand on his while looking at him. “Mr. Lee, are you feeling okay?”

That is when he sighs, snatching his hand away from yours and turning the pc off. He turns to you, keeping his eye contact consistent. “Y/n… i’ve just been feeling frustrated. Just forget it. Let’s focus on the song.”

Now you cannot say that you care about him, but you’re still curious to see what this is about. “Oh, is that so? Frustrated in what kind? Someone like you has feelings?”

He glares at you. “Not in the way you’d think, anyway.” You tilt your head. “But how? Tell me now, i’m curious.” “Maybe you should learn to keep your mouth shut, it’s none of your business.” “Just because you’re my superior does not mean you gotta talk to me like that, bastard.” He clenches his jaw. “Oh, that’s it.” He suddenly grabs onto your neck, pulling you closer. He’s still so gentle but it’s enough force to make you struggle to talk. “Is this what it’s about...? A... are you sexually frustrated…?” You tease. He releases the grasp on your neck and looks down at his hands. “I.. I’m sorry. It’s hard being alone when you’re pushing 30 you know.”

You had no idea what was happening right now, but you definitely enjoyed the attention you got. You were equally as touch starved as he was, and it was making you want more.

“You know, we could do this. But I really don’t like you dude.” You raise your eyebrow at him. He nods. “You don’t make yourself all that approachable either, would you really be down? I mean, just… fuck buddies… nothing else?”

“Mr. Lee, you know we both aren’t ones for relationships. But what’s in it for me?” “Oh, you want payment now?” “Well, you knew I wasn’t gonna give you myself for free, did you?” He laughs. “Fair, then how about I give you a raise?” “Mm… Anything else?” He rolls his eyes. “Okay, okay uhh. A raise and no more staying overtime, you get paid if you leave work early and… free coffee for life.” You ponder a bit. “Alright, I accept.” “Oh, not so quick, you need some rules to you too. For this to work you have to come help me anytime I need you.” “Libido that high, huh?” He shushes you and you giggle.

“Well okay, but if you’re really frustrated right now, shall we start today?” He looks back at you, visibly cringing from you being so direct with him, but he doesn’t mind. “I mean if you’re down.” “I am, but do you have any condoms?” That’s when you see him reaching for his wallet, taking out about 3 condoms out. Your eyes widen a bit, smacking your lips at his professionalism. “Oh, wow you’re ready.” “3 is a bit much…” “Who knows, i’ll end up using all of them and then end up going raw cause we are left with none.” “Yeah, don’t know about that.” “Im messing with you, dumbass.” He rolls his eyes, letting you get on top of his lap. Your lips finally make contact with his, getting to taste him in your mouth, the feeling lingering down to your stomach.

As you begin making out, your hand travels down to his forming bulge, squeezing and massaging it to the best of your abilities. As you’re doing that, he squeezes your ass with his palm, making you flinch from the sudden pressure. You playfully slap his face, pulling away from the kiss a bit. “You’re such a dick.” “I know, wanna feel mine already?” You give him one last kiss before pushing his head back on the chair to kiss his neck, insisting on his prominent adam’s apple. You suck on his sensitive skin, forming hickeys along his whole neck. “Fuck, Y/n, you’re not bad at this.” “I know, but you are.” “Oh shut up, I barely got to do anything.” You sigh, pulling away from his neck. “Let me ride you, m’kay?” “Do whatever you want to me.” He smiles coyly. “Could I kill you?” You pout your lips. “Not until you get your raise.” “Oh, fuck off.”

You start with unbuttoning his pants, not even taking them off before placing your hand on his boxers. You press his dick a bit, his groan appearing right after. “Mhm, that’s what I love hearing.” You nod to yourself. “Right from my mouth?” He teases too. “Oh, you know what I mean, I might need to stuff yours, so you shut up more often.” “Could you stuff it with your pussy?” That keeps you quiet for a bit, his response making you clench around nothing. “… I might, if tape doesn’t work.”

You don’t even take his pants off when you pull his boxers down with his half-hard dick springing out. You grab the base, stroking it a bit to get it as erect as you can. “You’re so big.” You point out. He just smirks, looking at you up and down. You leave his dick alone for a bit just to take your panties off, as you were already wearing a skirt, the embarrassing wet stains on them being visible for Heeseung to see as well. “You got this wet already? And you’re the one saying i’m horny.” “Shut it.” You throw your panties to the other side of the room, finally ripping one condom out the packaging, putting it well onto his dick. After you give him a few more strokes you position yourself on his dick, slowly lowering yourself on his length. It takes you a few good seconds to adjust, then you slowly move your hips back and forth on him. He already throws his head back, the feeling being so familiar yet so distant. Your walls clench around him every time you move on him, the feeling already getting unbearable. You change your routine a bit, starting to bounce instead of grinding, the sound of your thighs touching echoing through the room. You try leaving out as little moans as you can, but it’s still impossible for you, as it feels so good. You leave out small desperate noises as you bounce on him. “Knew you couldn’t resist me.” He smiles up at you. You glare again. “Fuck you.” While speeding up. “This.. doesn’t mean anything. I’m just.. helping.. you get rid of a boner.” You say out of breath. “And it’s working, keep going.”

You ride him as well as you can, his swollen tip getting so deep inside you it’s hitting your sweet g-spot. He needed to fuck with someone desperately, the fact that it was you was pure coincidence. Your mouth parts, leaving sounds that only his ears can hear. “Holy shit… I might cum soon… please” you cry, grabbing onto his shoulders with your nails bedded into his skin. He looks up at you, his hand resting against your ass, giving it a few squeezes here and there. “You’re gonna cum for me? Hm? Come on, cum all over me” He whisper shouts, helping you bounce on him faster and faster.

The knot in your stomach quickly snaps, your orgasm washing down over you with a few loud moans. You cum all over his dick, with each thrust forming a white ring at the base of it. “Your pussy so good, Y/n… I can’t take it any…more” he grunts, throwing his head back more with each bounce of yours. “Cum already, come on you’re... doing so well” you encourage him, and he immediately obeys, his semen spilling into his condom, making it fully white by the time you pull away from his lap. He pants and moans before you finally take the condom off his dick, the cum spilling back onto it. You stroke him a few more times, getting your hand messy but that finally makes him lay on the chair more relaxed, his high calming down.

“Damn it you’re good.” He says while smiling, his head thrown backwards. “I know, that’s why I agreed to help you.” You slightly grab onto his neck, giving it a few playful kisses. “Now should I send you back to your work? You’re finished here.” He teases. “Oh right, right. Maybe I should focus on my actual work, rather than this work.” You say, grabbing onto his dick one last time, leaving it alone after wrapping your hand around it.

He grabs your wrist, flicking it away now. He looks up at you while raising his eyebrow. “Get the fuck out of here.” You scoff at him, cleaning yourself up a bit and fixing your clothes back on before turning around to leave. “Suck my pussy.” You say annoyed while heading to the door.

As you open the door you hear a “Might do that too” and that’s when you get out the door, leaving him a middle finger before closing the door behind you.

Heeseung finishes the project for both of you, and you end up winning it together. Of course, he kept reproaching you that you won because of him, and you got into a heated argument that you just stopped talking for weeks. So first he says he’ll do it for you but when you do… he argues that he did all the work?

What an asshole.

After another day of no contact at all, you get passed a flyer at work, so you quickly read it.

“It gives us immense pleasure to invite you to a special gathering in honor of Lee Heeseung & L/n Y/n to celebrate their remarkable achievement of winning the collaboration project contest first place.

Date: [7th of December]

Time: [7 PM to 12 AM]

Venue: HELIX ENTERTAINMENT VENUE & BAR

Dress Code: [Semi-Formal]

We look forward to celebrating this special moment with you.

Warm regards,

HELIX ENTERTAINMENT”

After reading, you immediately put the flyer down on your desk, covering your face with your hands. “I don’t wanna see that man ever again.” You avoided him for a few weeks, how could you meet again now? You sigh to yourself, thinking that it’s just one day, it’ll be over, and you can continue ignoring him again.

On the day of the event, you buy yourself a nice and luxurious royal blue dress, it’s long and it hugs your body so well. It has a pretty big cleavage, but you know you looked attractive in it anyway. You get ready, grab your hand purse, and get to the venue. As you enter the big ballroom you notice Heeseung right away, talking to some higher ups while having one hand in his pocket, and the other in the air, moving it around while talking. He’s wearing a tight black suit on, with a deep v-neck that perfectly shows his collarbone. His hair a dark velvet and slightly gelled. You would be lying if you said he wasn’t attractive. He always wore that dark aura to him, and that pissed you off. It’s like he was pulling you in despite you trying to pull away. Even if you said you hated him, your palms got sweaty when you saw him, your heartbeat got faster and you eyes slightly widened whenever you saw him. It wasn’t because he was your boss, it wasn’t because he could fire you at any moment… there was something else. And he knew it.

You breathe in one last time before going up to them. As soon as Heeseung sees you he can’t stop looking at you. How perfect you look, you elegant you came here yet so sexy. The way your boobs sat in your dress and how they looked at Heeseung first, that’s what he claims anyway. You don’t say anything to each other, you barely dare to make eye contact. But at one point the others leave your conversation, saluting both of you for now... And when you expect it least, he pulls you aside.

“Are you trying to tempt me with those tits?” He whispers. “Excuse me?” You look at him, eyebrows furrowed in a mix of confusion and anger. “I mean, look at you. Who did you come here for? Where are you going after this? Is there anyone else with you?” He launches this set of questions so weirdly, making you cross your arms which makes your boobs squeeze even tighter against each other.

“I’m here alone, Heeseung. I just liked this dress and came here with it. What’s your problem, even if I dressed up for someone?” You look angrily at him. “Because nobody can see… all of this… except for me. You’re my fuck buddy remember?”

“So? I thought friends with benefits meant something else for you. Don’t care what you think about my outfits. Just stop staring weirdo.” You rest your arms alongside your body, before turning to leave. He grabs your wrist, pulling you close to him. “Look, I don’t want to be constantly ignoring you. Can we be just like we were before?” your lips part. “You mean…. hating each other?” he sighs. “You know what I mean. Hating each other but helping each other with things.” You click your tongue. “Oh yeah, speaking of that… you never gave me my raise… or my coffee.”

“What? you can take as much coffee as you want, and I want you to help me with something before I give you the extra money.”

“And what’s that? amaze me.”

“Could you act that you’re my fiancé for tonight?”

You freeze. “Huh?”

“I don’t want you around me, at all. But It’s so annoying when people keep asking why i’m not married at my age.”

“Did you tell them that you’re a bastard? and that’s why you’re single?” you look at him pissed.

“Oh fuck off, just tell me if you want to help me or not.” you contemplate. “Maybe. If I finally get my raise, and some good sex out of you.”

“It’s on then. Let’s go meet some people here, they’re old and rich perverts but they give hella good sponsors. You might wanna cover up. I don’t want them looking at you.” he grabs your waist. “What a coincidence, that sounds like a perfect description of you in a few years.” you roll your eyes, walking with him while struggling to put on your jacket.

“Hello, Mr. Lee, and who is this beautiful lady?” they start right off the bat looking at your body and all, despite covering yourself as well as you can. You feel so uncomfortable with them but Heeseung makes sure to cover you with his body instead. “This is Y/n, my dearest fiancé. She’s a bit shy, so please talk to me instead.” You throw a slight smile while looking at him, his gesture making you really happy.

After you were done with these men, you leave to a more reserved area. “I can’t believe i’m saying this but… thanks for having my back earlier.” “Don’t fret, I saw how uncomfortable you were. Hate you or not, I can’t see you with that expression on your stupid face.”

You take your jacket off while nodding your head. “Wow, what a compliment from you mr. Lee. I acted enough; now can I stop being your dog following you everywhere?”

“Of course, you can leave too if you’re busy.”

“Hey, what about my payment? remember?”

“You want your money now? What do you wanna buy? I’ll give you my card.” He says, pulling out his card to hand it to you. “My pin is 1510. Use however much you want.”

That just stunned you. “W-What no I don’t need to buy anything. Keep your card…” you push it back to him. “I meant… you know.”

“The good sex part?” he says softly.

“Yeah. That.” you say a bit embarrassed now. “Stop making it so awkward, you’re being too quiet for your own good.” you continue.

“Why do you think that? Is my mouth too big to keep quiet?” he smiles. “Obviously, you never seem to shut up but right now you’re eerily quiet.” “I’m just thinking whether I should just eat you out like you deserve or fuck you too on top of that.” His response already gets you hot and bothered, not caring about the people who might be there or might pass you two. You get even closer to him, sliding your hand down his v-neck to touch his pecs and collarbone. “What’s stopping you from doing both? Please Heeseung. It’s my turn to be needy is it not?”

“Of course, it can be your turn whenever. Surprised you’re craving my pleasure when you can’t stand me.” “You’re still fucking hot with this suit on, personality or not.” He smiles, pulling you into a heated kiss, the butterflies rummaging through your stomach. You grab onto his hair, pushing him a little while making out. You pull away after a bit, finally unbuttoning his shirt. You touch him all over his body, barely being able to stop.

“Did you always look this good?” you say, moving your hands on his abdomen. “Were you always this desperate for me?” he smiles, letting you do whatever you want, until he begins undressing you too, sliding that dress off you in a hurry. He slips your bra off taking one tit into his mouth while kneading the other. You let out desperate sounds, wishing he would just eat you out already. His breath hot against your nipple makes your whole body shiver, inevitably making you whine. “Heeseung just suck on my pussy like that please stop teasing me damn it.”

He laughs against your skin, giving your boob one last kiss before pulling away. “Okay, okay, sit down on this couch.” You do, and he gets on his knees to slide your panties off. He makes you spread your legs for him, keeping them apart with his hands. He starts off with small kisses around your core, taking his time enjoying his meal afterall. “This is the second time you’re dripping wet for me, is it a pattern now?” you grab onto his hair to keep him there. “Shut up and just help me get through this.” He listens, starting to eat you out to the best of his ability. Hollowing his cheeks, shaking his head to suck on your folds. He puckers up his lips to kiss you all over, giving it a few sweet licks all over the slit. Once he reaches your clit, he glues his mouth on it, sucking on it leaving the nastiest sounds known to man. While he’s focusing on your clit, he sneaks his fingers to your wet hole, sliding one finger in at first, pounding it into you at a steady rate. You cannot stop moaning loudly, the pleasure being too much for you. He inserts another finger in, curling them inside you, reaching your g-spot easily.

“Oh, right there, Hee. Don’t you dare stop or you’re so dead— oh my fucking god that’s so good.” His hand speeds up, he pulls his mouth away to flick his tongue on your bud faster and faster; matching the rhythm of his fingers. “Fuck!” you cry out. “Heeseung i’m gonna… cum please … keep going.” You lose your mind. He speeds up even more, destroying your pussy with his fingers, actually giving you hope that he’s gonna let you finish. Once you get as close as you’ve ever been, he pulls out and away completely, making your body shake. You groan suddenly opening your eyes in disbelief. “What the fuck..?” you say angrily. “You thought I was just gonna let you cum like that from something so simple?” You glare. “You’re so fucking annoying, I had such a good orgasm forming.”

He caresses your cheek. “Stop pouting, let me make you cum forreal now, okay?” you still look mad, but you grab onto the hem of his pants, pulling them down in one second; his boner is quite visible already. You pull his dick out, stroking it while he gets a condom out his wallet again (Somehow he’s always ready). You keep stroking him, squeezing his tip with your fingers until he leaks precum everywhere. You stop that to pull his boxers down further, letting him put his condom on. He strokes himself a few more times before positioning himself to penetrate you. He slowly pushes his cock in, making slow movements at first, slowly speeding up to fuck you good. “You’re taking it so well, and you feel so good..” You hum, slowly wrapping your legs around him. “That’s amazing… keep going..” you whine, letting him fuck you til you lose your mind.

He slightly moans at every thrust, managing to get deeper and deeper with every thrust. You feel him so deep inside, hitting your g-spot again with his swollen tip. The sudden zap makes you grab onto his biceps with your hands, digging your nails into his skin while moaning louder. “Mhm…. That’s the spot. Don’t stop please…” He finally listens to your pleads, pounding into your sweet spot over and over as you leave red scratches all over his arms. Your hands move up to his upper back, scratching him like a wild cat. He hisses multiple times at the pain, but he lets you react this way just to see all your reactions to him destroying you once again. You tighten around him as you’re about to cum.

“Hee...please let me cum... plea—oh that feels so good please…” you say as you start crying, small tears running down your cheeks shutting your eyes forcefully. “Who’s crying on my cock now? You love getting fucked like this don’t you slut?” he says while speeding up even more, making you squirt on him on the spot. His words buzz in your ear over and over while you lose your mind completely. Your legs shake on his lower back, getting his dick wet with your squirt. “You’re so messy when you cum.” He groans, getting close to his release too. “Oh fuck you… you know you like it… cum already…. come on.” A few more thrusts in and he pulls out to take his condom off his dick. He gives himself a few more strokes before releasing strings of cum all over your stomach. He holds onto your thigh with his other hand while continuing to stroke himself. You look down to your stomach just to see, biting your lip at the scenery. “That’s a new one… you look damn hot doing it.” He slightly smiles at you. “Figured we’d both get messy.” You both quickly clean up the best you can, trying not to get caught by anyone despite how loud you both were the entire time.

“Is this the good sex you were talking about?” he says in a sly manner. “Obviously, if that even means something to you. If there’s one good thing about you it might just be that dick.” You roll your eyes at him. “Oh my, should I feel honored?” he says sarcastically.

You both get out of there, having no intention of staying after what both just did. He gives you the rest of the evening off and gives you your very awaited raise. He was generous with his numbers, that good time really helped. might despise you, or that’s what you think, but he took that raise seriously and you couldn’t stop smiling at your bank balance.

A few days later, you get a text at work from none other than Heeseung. You never gave him your number, so it was a surprise.

“hey y/n”

“Who is this?”

“the guy you fucked 2 days ago”

“ugh what do u want”

“i’m your boss, don’t text me that way”

“whatever, why are u texting me and where did u get my number”

“yena, i just wanted to give you some extra work today”

[1 attachment]

The photo he sent shows his lower body sitting on a chair with his legs slightly manspreading, a thick bulge layering on his dark grey pants while his left hand is gripping the said bulge. Multiple veins are seen branching down from his hand to his arm.

The moment you saw the picture your eyes scattered throughout the pixels in your phone without being able to stop. The photo he took was so damn attractive to you for no specific reason but the way his hand looked, the way you just knew that bulge in his pants was throbbing, begging to get out the tight bottom wear. Still, you decided to be a little cold to him as you always were.

“oh why should i help u? i already got my raise”

“do u want this to be your only one?”

You leave him on seen for a minute or two.

“where r u”

“in my office, tell my bodyguard i called you in here”

“🖕”

You get up, fixing your makeup a little before leaving your office to get to his. After you close the door behind you, you both have a moment of intense eye contact, just to break it off by looking down. “You got here fast. Missed me that much?” you smack your lips. “It’s not like you threatened me or anything.” He laughs softly. “You know you missed me already. Did you touch yourself to the picture I sent, too?” He slowly walks towards you.

“What? No. You’re not all that Heeseung. Your mouth moves too much though.”

“Oh yeah? Then let's see what yours can do.”

He grabs your chin, pulling it up so you can only look into his eyes. There are a few seconds of silence where your heart skips a beat… then in his lowest tone you hear him say...

“Get on your knees.”

He releases the grasp on your chin, letting you lower yourself, finally making eye contact with his bulge. “Aren’t we gonna get caught here?” He shakes his head. “No one can enter without my permission. No one can leave either, like you here.” He smiles. You squeeze your legs together at his words while sliding his pants and boxers off in one move. His hardened cock springs out, bouncing off his navel. You start with small pecks to his red tip, slowly moving down to his entire length. He looks down at you, admiring your sweet moves to bring him pleasure. “You’re adorable like this, did you know?” he chuckles. “Eat a dick.” He slaps your cheek. “Too bad you’re eating mine right now.” You glare up at him before taking his tip in your mouth, stroking him with your hand. You have your other hand resting on his right knee, as you bop your head back and forth little by little. He smiles at you, grabbing your hair into a ponytail just to keep your head in place and to be able to fuck your mouth a bit.

You unwrap your hand from around him cock, letting him completely take control, going at his desired pace. He moans at the feeling, throwing his head back for a second. “Fuck yeah... I see this mouth is better at doing things other than complaining all the time.” His thrusts are making you slightly choke on his dick, getting harder and harder to breathe. You grab onto his thighs, trying to at least make him slow down, but to no avail. It feels too good for him to stop now, your mouth wrapped so tight around his dick; sending him waves of bliss with each thrust. After a good while he pulls away, letting you breathe again. “I fucking hate you.” You say, looking up at him. “Don’t talk to your superior that way, brat.” He grabs the base of his cock, slapping the tip onto your lips multiple times.

You take him in your mouth again, bopping your head up and down faster than before. You try using your tongue against as well, caressing the sensitive spot between his tip and length with the tip of your tongue.

“That feels so good. Don’t pull away.” He whispers. You leave little hums to confirm that you won’t, letting him get closer to his release with those emitted vibrations. After a few more sloppy bops, he moans like hell, grabbing onto the back of your head to push you deeper onto him. “Y/n i’m— gonna cum… hold on…” he moans out, his eyes closed shut. You keep going, wanting him to cum right in your mouth. “Mmm…hmm.” Is all you can let out, before he cums deep in your throat, automatically swallowing all of it. He leaves out a small groan, pulling out your mouth after he’s done. A string of saliva links his tip and your tongue as he pulls away further.

“Good girl. You swallowed all of it.” You give him a little smile, standing up while wiping your mouth. “Might’ve been the best i’ve ever had, come here.” He says, grabbing your waist with his arms. He leans in to give you a genuine kiss, not a lustful one, definitely not. He keeps you in that deep kiss for a while, pulling away only to pull you in again. “Where... is this … coming from?” you chuckle a little, asking between kisses. “I don’t think… I can stand… completely hating… you anymore…” your eyes widen a bit. “Was my mouth that good?” you say jokingly, and he shakes his head. “Not just that, not just sex. You have a crazy charm to you, I don’t know if you can feel it.”

“That’s crazy coming from you Lee Heeseung.”

“I want you in my life Y/n, you can be mad all you want but it doesn’t change things between us.”

“You’ve already been in mine way too long.” You smile.

“Exactly, I want you to be so sick of me, no medicine would be able to treat you.”

“I guess we can make it work… you’re crazy hot, still might need to tape that mouth though.”

“Is that a secret kink?” He laughs.

“Oh, shut up.” You push him slightly. You can’t lie, being his girlfriend now was tempting, no matter how much you tried to hate him, he attracted you more and more without even realising. Every time he was in your presence your subconscious was happy to see him. Your mind played tricks on you, and you hated how much you adored him.

Dating Lee Heeseung, your boss, was one of the best decisions of your life. Turns out he’s sweeter than it seems, he would give his life for you, and you would too. You didn’t need anyone else, only your soulmate and your cat. You ended up moving in together, always cooking dinner together, going on vacations together and just enjoying eachother’s presence. He was such a sweet guy, something you never expected to see from such a man. Yena definitely judged you when she first found out about your new relationship, but quickly came along with the idea. Thing is, Heeseung acted this way with others but he was so sweet with you. He only loved you. His sparkly bambi eyes always stare at you with such admiration when you walk in the room. He can’t stop admiring you all the time.

I guess he wasn’t that bad after all.

———————————————————————

a/n: thank you so much for reading this!! I spent a few days on it and it was definitely experimental. reblogging/liking would be very much appreciated < 3

[meelusinee]

NOW SHE HAS ME UNDER HER SKIRT | M.R x READER

word count \ 3.7k | fluff & stuff | slash / mattheo riddle x reader

in which mattheo is absolutely in love with you before you two even talk for the first time (part one to lovesick!mattheo) author's note at the end!

SECOND PART HERE - lovesick!mattheo christmas edition

NOW SHE HAS ME UNDER HER SKIRT | M.R x READER

Mattheo didn’t know much about love. 

Between being raised by a dictator and his craziest follower, he already didn’t have a very good start. Especially whenever he would get in trouble, the Cruciatus Curse was definitely no joke. Not to mention everyone pestering him about the legacy he led. News flash to the Gryffindors who would try to pick on him, he found it quite obvious that he was Voldemort’s son.

Suffice to say that he didn’t know much about love. He never had a true showcase of it, never had an example of it to compare to anything. The closest he ever had being another stunted teenager by the name of Theodore that considered him his brother, but even then there was still distance.

That was until he met you.

You, the most beautiful person he had ever met in his entire existence on this Earth. Anything he  lol looked at on you he would find absolutely perfect, from the color of your eyes to the way your hair bounced in the sunlight.

That alone made it hard to approach you. Your nice demeanor seemed to make it even harder.

So, he settled with admiring from afar. Mattheo knew your schedule, the classes that you would take and every time that it varied. He would subtly watch you in classes, hang around the same areas you did during your break periods, or even where you went for fun. And, to the best of his ability, he tried to avoid things that looked bad. No more fights or cursing, not unless he was truly provoked.

His mind also got its grubby hands on the idea of a journal. A place he could write about you freely, one he charmed so only he could read it. Entries, song ideas, anything he could think of. You made him an artist, you as his perfect muse.

And it all got even better when you two finally met.

You had just walked down to the courtyard, Mary Janes clacking along the rocks as you made your way over to a small pillar.

Recently, you noticed someone sitting by the pillars a lot more than usual. He was tall, his face usually covered by his brown curls as he wrote inna small journal he always carried with him. Said tall man with a face covered by his brown curls was your current potions partner, you had both been assigned to create a Liquid Luck potion.

“Hello?” you called out gently. face tilted down just a bit as you looked down at him. His eyes locked with yours when he looked up, the most beautiful shade of molten honey you had ever seen meeting your eyes. “Hi there, stranger.”

“Hello?” he whispered back at you, eyebrows furrowed as he spoke. His face looked rather cute when it was all scrunched up like that, a light blush covering his cheeks.

“I’m your Potions partner.” you said with a smile, flattening your skirt before moving to sit down next to him. “For the Liquid Luck project.”

“Oh,” he whispered, nodding as he closed his journal. It had a rather pretty leather cover, the pages aged and covered in ink from what you could tell. “Yeah, I remember. Y/N, right?”

“Yeah,” you smiled, nodding. “And you’re Mattheo.”

“Yes I am.” he said, a soft smile coming on his face as he heard that. He looked at you with something special in his eyes, eyes that carved themselves deep into your soul with the most intricate patterns you could think of.

The trance both of you seemed to be stuck in was broken when he cleared his throat, fingers tapping on his journal. “Did you have any ideas for the project?”

“Oh,” you whispered, nodding. “Yes, yes I do. I was thinking that we head to the library and research different potion methods and whatnot. Based on Slughorn’s instructions, I’m assuming that the instructions in the books won’t help much.”

“You’re a genius.” he whispered, barely loud enough for you to hear.

“What was that?” you asked him, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“Nothing,” he said, clearing his throat as he began to sit up. “Do you want to go now?”

Mattheo thought that he was dreaming, if he was being honest.

The girl of his dreams, the girl that he had wrote almost obsessively day and night about for almost six years, that same girl was currently sitting across from him. Laughing.

“You’re ridiculous,” she smiled at his joke, her voice sweet like a piece of cotton candy melting on your tongue. He didn’t even remember what he had joked about at this point, his mind turning to mush the moment he heard that sound pass your lips.

Those lips that haunted his dreams every single night, the image of them so plush and pure he wanted to worship them like one would a holy angel. They looked absolutely perfect.

“Thank you,” he whispered, smiling softly as he rested his chin on his hand. He probably looked like a lovesick puppy, but he didn’t mind. 

“I found something really interesting in this book  by the way,” you said, Mattheo’s eyes instantly darting to where your hands were resting on the page. “It says in the recipe that we need to juice a squill bulb, which most people just cut it for. But this recipe here notes that squeezing ingredients over a funnel gets more juice out.”

“That’s really interesting.” he whispered, his gaze looking at your face as you spoke. 

“Isn’t it?” you asked with a smile. “And here it says that adding the entire Murtlap makes the potion last longer, rather than just growth.”

“That’s also really interesting.” he whispered again, gaze still stuck on your face. You looked so pretty whenever you were concentrating on things, the way your eyebrows furrowed making him think of a million different songs and rhythms. 

“Is it?” you asked with a chuckle.

“Well,” he muttered, looking at you with a small smile on his face. “I always found Potions an interesting topic.”

“Always is not a word. It’s more of a concept.” you said, humming as you continued reading the pages. Mattheo chuckled softly, looking at you like a lovesick puppy.

“You’re lovely,” he whispered. 

Theo was sitting in his bed reading a book, his curtains almost completely closed as he flipped between page to page. At least, he pretended to.

Recently, he had noticed Mattheo’s obsessive journaling habits. How his hands would be covered in ink by the time he was finished, or how he’d write until his new candle burnt out. Sometimes Mattheo would write even when the candle burnt out, instead opting for yet another one.

It was rather concerning to Theo, to say the least. Out of all of the things Mattheo could do, he was changing who he was. Self-improvement was one thing, but it seemed like he changed an obsession from fighting to writing.

“I can feel you staring at me.” Mattheo mumbled, looking back over at where Theo was sitting.

“I’m surprised you can,” Theo said under his breath, closing his book and standing up. “With how much you’ve been writing, I’d assume you get sucked in by a black hole sometime soon.”

“Oh hush,” he whispered, looking up from the journal. His hands were stained black and red with quill ink, the candle beside him still burning brightly. “Why do you keep staring at me? You’ve been doing it all week.”

“Your journal.” Theo smirked, walking behind Mattheo and placing his hands on his Mattheo’s shoulder. “What’s inside?”

“Why would I tell you?” Mattheo grumbled, continuing to write in the journal. Theo’s eyes squinted as they tried to read whatever was on the page, but the words were too jumbled to make any sense to him. No doubt a charm.

“You charmed the journal?” Theo asked curiously, looking down at Mattheo.

“Like you care.” he whispered under his breath, the quill scratching loudly against the paper. The room was quiet other than that, nothing but the quill scratching and the candle crackling.

“I do.” Theo said, his voice a bit more stern. He pulled up a chair next to Mattheo, resting his elbow on the table. “Mattheo, you’re pushing everyone away. Even me, and it’s not healthy. All you do is write in this journal, it’s kind of worrying.”

“I just like writing,” Mattheo whispered, moving his legs to rest his knees near his chest.

“About what?” Theo asked, his voice more soft than teasing.

“You’ll judge.” Mattheo whispered again, flicking the quill back and forth as his eyes glanced over at Theo. “Why do you want to know?”

“Because you’re my best friend.” Theo whispered. “I promise I won’t judge.”

Mattheo sighed before turning to the journal, pressing his wand against it as the words came into view more clearly. His handwriting was a lot more cursive than Theo first remembered, no doubt changing the more he wrote. 

“It’s a journal about her,” Mattheo whispered, flipping through some of the pages. “Love letters, poems, songs and stuff.”

“Her?” Theo asked curiously. “Who’s her?”

“Her,” Mattheo muttered to Theo, picking at his fingernails as he spoke. He looked like a blushing schoolboy who found his first love, it was rather cute to watch. “It’s, like, she’s a girl I just really like. I think about her a lot, you know? And I’m just trying to improve myself for her.”

“What’s her name?” Theo asked, resting his head against his hand as he crossed his legs.

“Y/N.” Mattheo sighed, like the word itself was a part of some holy prophecy. “She’s so beautiful, you know? Like something from heaven, just beautiful. And I just can’t get her out of my head.”

“Have you ever tried talking to her?” Theo asked, a small smile on his face.

“We have this project together right now.” he said, chuckling softly as he spoke. He was so down bad. “She took me to the library to research more about potions. Merlin, she’s so smart Theo. She figured the reason why nobody could make the potion was because the instructions were wrong.”

“So you both started researching?” Theo asked.

“She researched, yeah,” Mattheo said, before chuckling again. His hand moved to scratch the back of his neck nervously. “I kind of just sat watching her the entire time.” 

“Mattheo,” Theo chuckled softly, shaking his head. 

“You said you wouldn’t judge!” Mattheo protested.

“I’m not judging.” Theo chuckled, looking down at the journal. “I’m just confused on how you think you’ll get your girl if you can’t even talk to her. Journaling can only go so far.”

“I know,” Mattheo whispered, looking down at his journal again. “But it still helps.”

Theo nodded, looking down at the journal again. “What are you writing about right now?”

“Uh,” he muttered, looking at the pages. “It’s a song. She said something at the library that made me think of a song, I haven’t been able to get it out of my head.”  

“What’s it sound like.” Theo asked, leaning back in his seat.

“Uhm,” he whispered, picking at his nails again as he pushed the journal towards Theo. He hummed softly as he picked it up, eyes squinting as he tried to read his handwriting.

Darling, just calm with your voice

Let your heart sing, how I always enjoy 

When you say “always” is not a word

You think love is a bit absurd.

“That’s really nice,” Theo said, looking up at Mattheo with a small smirk. “This is a lot better than I thought it’d be, to be honest.”

“What did you think I was writing about?” Mattheo asked confusedly.

“Dark magic or something.” Theo chuckled softly, shaking his head. “Like you were possessed by a ghost to figure out how to resurrect themselves.”

Mattheo chuckled at that, taking his journal back. “I think you’ll find someone like this, you know. It makes life really nice.”

“Being in love?” Theo asked, an eyebrow raised.

“Yeah,” Mattheo whispered. “In love.”

“Well, there’s always an opportunity for that. And when it happens, it’ll happen.” Theo said, patting his pockets and pulling out a box of cigarettes. “But until then, there’s cigarettes.”

“You know the way to my heart, don’t you?” Mattheo snickered at that, using the lit candle to light his own cigarette.

It had been a couple of weeks since you and Mattheo had started working on your project. You had figured out how to maximize the efficiency of your potion brewing, including changing methods of brewing and preparing ingredients. After about three different trials, you had finally found the perfect way to brew the potion. 

“That’s perfect.” Mattheo smiled softly at you, chuckling softly as he scratched the back of his neck. In all honesty, it looked like a regular potion to him. “I think that’s perfect, right?”

“That is perfect.” you said, giggling softly as his reaction You found it rather cute, if you were being honest. He seemed rather nervous around you. “Thank you for doing all of this with me, the potion work and all. Most people would probably just leave it to me, you know?”

“Why would they leave?” Mattheo asked, eyebrows furrowing.

You shrugged, looking down at the potion still set in the cauldron as you spoke. “I don’t really know. I guess people consider me weird or something like that. Someone said that I was whimsical once, I don’t think it was a nice way though.”

“That’s absolutely ridiculous.” Mattheo spat. He couldn’t understand the logic of that. In his eyes, you were absolutely perfect. He would give anything in the world to hang out with you more often than he got too, and people gave that up for free? The thought was absolutely ridiculous.

You chuckled quietly at that, smiling softly. “Yeah?”

“Definitely. I mean,” he paused, looking up at you like that was the most absurd thing in the entire world. He had a small flush on his face, no doubt questioning what he was going to say. “I mean, you’re such a nice person. And I think that hanging around you is comforting.”

“And I think that you’re rather sweet.” you chuckled, looking at him with a soft smile.

“I’m being serious!” Mattheo said, looking you in the eyes. You hadn’t heard him talk this much in the entire time that you had been working with him, and you especially didn’t expect it to be him defending you. “You’re just, like, you. Which is really sweet, you know? I really like you and your whimsy, or whatever they try to call you.”

You giggled again, smiling softly at him as you scooted a bit closer. “You’re rather nice yourself, if I do say so myself.”

“Thank you.” he whispered, his voice raising a pitch as he looked at the potion. “Do we need to test this?”

“I think so.” she nodded. “Do you want to do it?”

Mattheo looked at the potion, a small frown coming on her face. If anything went wrong with the podcast, he wouldn’t want you to be hurt by it. Which led to him nodding, the best option for him obviously being him taking the potion himself. 

“I’ll bottle it for you.” you said, grabbing the small ladle and pouring it inside the potion vial. “Here, one vial of Liquid Luck for you.”

Mattheo smiled softly as he took a sniff of it. “Is it meant to smell like something?”

“No, just air. I mean, clean air. Not like toxic air or anything.” you said, before ending your small speel. “It doesn’t smell like anything.”

Mattheo nodded again, taking a swig of it before coughing. “That’s definitely hot.”

“It did just come off the cauldron.” you chuckled, fingers fidgeting slightly. “Do you feel lucky?”

Mattheo looked up at you with a look you could only describe as a lovesick puppy, a small flush covering his face as he admired you. You could only assume the amount of thoughts running through his mind were plenty, some very hard to sort through. 

“Yeah,” he whispered, blinking slowly as he looked at you. “Very lucky.”

You chuckled softly at that, your face flushing as you watched his eyes lock onto your lips. “Do I have something on my lips or something?”

“No,” he whispered softly, his Adam’s Apple bobbing as he spoke. “No, I just,”

“Something on my teeth?” you asked, shining your teeth to him.

“I want to kiss you.” he whispered. 

Your mouth closed again as you heard that, eyes locking onto his after he spoke. That didn’t last long though, as his eyes focused back on your lips again. “You what?”

“I want to kiss you.” he said a bit more clearly, his voice hoarse as he spoke. “I mean, I don’t want to pressure you. But I really want to kiss you.”

“You can kiss me.” you whispered softly to him, scooting a bit closer to him in return. 

Mattheo blinked for a couple of seconds, the shock of your answer plastered on his face. It filled you with a small sense of confidence, the blush on his face fueling your own. “I can?”

“You can.” you smiled.

Mattheo smiled brightly at that, the burn of it brighter than the sun sucking his lips in like a blackhole would. His lips immediately met yours, burning like fireworks against his skin. It was absolute bliss to him, burning through his skin and turning him into nothing but lovesick ash.

“Your lips are absolutely perfect, my love.” he whispered, his eyes boring into yours with a gaze full of adoration. “So perfect.”

“Was your luck to try and kiss me, Riddle?” you chuckled softly at him. 

“This is the luckiest moment of my life.” he whispered. 

“Theo!” Mattheo spat out, opening the dorm room door as he stormed in. His palms looked sweaty, and his face was absolutely covered in a bright blush. 

“Mattheo.” Theo said his name back, closing his book as he looked at where Mattheo had stormed in. He looked absolutely wrecked, almost drenched in sweat. “You look like you just got your ass kicked on the Quidditch field.”

“I just,” he whispered, walking closer to Theo as he paced around the room. “I just kissed her.”

“Y/N?” Theo asked, a small smile crossing her face. “You kissed her?”

“It was so perfect.” he whispered, laying down on Theo’s bed. “Like, it was like her lips had a magnetic pull on me. I couldn’t stop for the next hour. A whole hour!”

“That’s wild, mate.” he chuckled softly, patting Mattheo on the head.

“It was just perfect,” he whispered under his breath, sighing softly. “Like, I don’t know how else to describe it. Maybe like looking at a supernova for the first time.”

“You are down bad, Mattheo.” he chuckled softly at that, continuing to pat his friend on the head.

“And then we, after that right?” he said, the smile on his face only growing larger. “We snuck off to this broom closet. You know the ones. And we did, we had,” he paused, sighing in frustration as his words jumbled in his head. “You know?”

“I know.” Theo chuckled.

“I have a song idea again.” Mattheo said, sitting up again as he rushed to the journal he kept so dearly to his heart. “I will be dead to the world for the next few hours.”

“You want me to go tell Y/N that, lover boy?” Theo smirked.

“She can come in whenever.” Mattheo said, dipping his quill in black ink. “I already gave her our dormitory password.”

“You what?”

“I have a present for you.” Mattheo whispered under his breath, a small smile on his face as he walked towards you.

It was the 6 month anniversary of one of the happiest relationships you had ever been in. There was communication and there was love. Small dates near the Black Lake at midnight, with breakfast you stole from the Great Hall earlier. Times where he’d take you into town and let you dress up however you wanted, all on the cards he stole from Malfoy. Or small get-togethers like this, hangouts at the top of the Astronomy Tower. 

And the presents were always lovely. Small poems that he wrote for you, or love letters that he hand wrapped himself. A small blush or dress you had been eyeing for more than two seconds, or room decor that went with your forever indecisive aesthetics. 

“You do?” you giggled softly, gasping softly as he pulled out a small guitar. “A song?”

“I’ve written a couple for you,” he whispered. “And I wanted to sing them to you. For our anniversary.”

“I love you.” you giggled, smiling as he sat down.

He cleared his throat as he made sure the guitar was in tune, strumming a few chords before eventually developing a melody. It seemed almost hypnotic the way his hands moved, his voice humming along as he figured out the rhythm.

“Yesterday, I was a word. Left with no voice to speak it,” he hummed softly, his voice and the guitar both vibrating through the walls. You smiled brightly as you heard his voice, not realizing how pretty his voice actually sounded.

“Now I am a happy song, placed on the lips of a woman.” he sang, winking at you. He continued for a few lines, a small smirk growing on his lips as he got to the instrumental part.

“What are you going to sing next?” you asked, watching him giggle softly. “Seriously!”

“Patience,” he whispered, chuckling as he strung the melody again, his eyes darting down at the guitar. “Now she has me, under her skirt,”

“Mattheo!” you flushed, slapping his arm and breaking the rhythm of his song. “My skirt?”

The both of you burst out into a laugh at that, the sound breaking through the cold night air that breezed through the alcove you sat in. Or maybe you just felt warm in his presence, a constant feeling of love rushing through your body.

“Can I finish my song now?” he smirked.

“I suppose you could.” you whispered, resting your head on his shoulder as he continued to sing.

AUTHOR'S NOTE

my second post oh my GOD this one took a hot minute to get through. beta-reading and proof reading is definitely not my jam, and there's definitely things that i missed in this. but i hope it still works out well, especially the whole lovesick angle i was going for. if you guys haven't already, please please please go check out tamino's music. it is actually so. good. if you listen to hozier or adrianne lenker, i think you'd really like his songs (my favorites are the first disciple and habibi)

if you would like to read the second part, click here!

as always, please like, comment, and reblog! it really helps out, and i really appreciate everyone who does! if you guys have any requests or something you can request in the ask box!

[indecisivemuch]

Look at me

Pairing: Luke Castellan x Reader

Summary: Being oblivious to Luke’s feelings, you tried to get over him by getting a boyfriend, who just does not know how to treat you right. Inspired by the song ‘Boyfriend’ by Dove Cameron ~ “I could be a better boyfriend than him.” (jealous luke, friends-to-lovers, fluff, angst, pining, happy ending.)

Warning: Just the boyfriend being an asshole and unwanted physical touch for a split second, but nothing serious. Sorry if your name is Cole. Violence (physical fighting)

Note: I’m sorry if there are a lot of errors, I haven’t had the chance to edit this thoroughly so if it feels like a train wreck, then I'm sorry. I just needed to write this out, get it out there, so I can go back to revising for my exams in peace lol, cause this plot/idea has been at the back of my head, I could not stop thinking about it or study properly. Lowkey hated how this one turned out, but whoops.

Word count: 4.8k

“People say that eyes are the windows to one's soul,” you once told him. You two have been best friends for a very long time: five years of being attached to the hip. Yet, you were completely oblivious to the way he looked at you. Even everybody at camp noticed and thought it was bound to happen. They were so sure that Luke and you would end up together. So imagine everybody’s surprise when something else occurred.

It happened right in front of Luke: Cole - a boy from Cabin 5 and son of Ares - asked you out, and you said yes.

It has been two months since that day. All Luke could do was sulk as he watched his best friend slip away. Of course, you still tried to spend as much time as possible with him. But even then, things have changed. There were no more of those content silences between the two of you. There were no more carefree laughs that made Luke feel like you two were the only ones that existed in this place. He used to walk you back to your cabin every night, hugging you good night or kissing your forehead close to your hairline if he felt brave enough. Moments like those convinced him you two would be like that forever. But his solace was taken in a split second. Now, you were so near, yet so out of reach. 

It didn’t help that he saw you every day, like right now, as you sat in the middle of a gathering hosted by your cabin. Gods, even the wind seems to be in love with you, judging by the way it was blowing through your hair as if it was trying to twirl itself around those lovely locks that Luke himself used to always tug behind your ears. The sight of you always bathed him in this warm feeling, like the morning sun. Hence his nickname for you: sunshine. 

Then his brown eyes landed on the figure next to you, and they hardened. He has witnessed it all: Cole’s backhanded compliments, ignoring you on your birthday, leaving you alone to talk to his friends, occasionally flirting back with girls who batted an eyelash at him, and then blatantly telling you that you were overthinking it. Luke knew he could treat you so much better. 

You were sitting with your boyfriend and his group of friends, who often gave you weird looks or snickers. Gods, if it was him you were with, he’d never make you feel excluded. He would have his arms around you and defend you if his friends ever made snarky remarks. Not that that would ever happen anyway; you were well-loved at camp, and all his friends loved you. But he would treat you well, nevertheless, not like that dumbass sitting next to you.

One of your favorite songs started playing, and Luke watched as you genuinely smiled for once tonight. You touched your boyfriend’s arm, muttering something to him. Luke knew exactly what you were saying to Cole because you and Luke used to do this together. Except, you never had to ask Luke. 

Whenever your favorite tunes were on, Luke would immediately pull you out of your seat and dance with you, laughing as if nothing mattered at all. Nights like those, he liked to imagine that the stars above envied them and what the two of you had. Now? He felt like one of them, watching from the outside. 

Luke’s jaw clenched as he saw Cole shrugging off your hand on his arm. Gods, Luke felt like that idiot was taking you for granted, and his blood boiled. Before Cole, Luke used to always orchestrated some excuse to have you touch him - getting injured on purpose sometimes just to watch you frantically panic over his wounds and take care of him, volunteering to help you out with swords training just to touch your hand and pretend to adjust the way you were holding it, hugging you every time he greeted you and so on.

For a second, your mask slipped, and you had that look on your face, like something had left you emotionally wounded. It was the kind of look Luke would kill to never see again, and oh, the things he would do to get rid of Cole. Luke had to wrestle with the thought of marching up to Cole and beating him to a pulp. However, he did stand up to approach you.

You felt a hand touch your shoulder. When you peered at the person standing, your eyes immediately glimmered as they caught Luke’s. However, something foreign was gleaming in his eyes. The Hermes boy has always looked at you sweetly. But the way he was looking at you right now was filled with something much more intense - borderline fervent, like an obsession. 

Cole finally glanced over at you for the first time the entire night. Unlike you, he instantly recognized the look in Luke’s eyes: hunger and longing. It was clear as day to everybody but you.

Luke extended his hand out for you to take and you understood right away. For the first time in two months, your hand touched his. Luke’s chest sunk and his breathing lost its usual rhythm for a second as your skin made contact with his. The Hermes boy finally looked over to Cole, and the Ares boy saw an immediate shift in his eyes. Now, they were filled with animosity and - the most obvious of all - heated jealousy. 

Luke led you away from Cole and started twirling you around. You let out a laugh - the kind that was infectious and has always brought a smile to Luke’s lips. You both sang along to the lyrics. For once, your relationship felt restored, just like the good old days. Was it wrong that this was the happiest you have felt since you got together with Cole? You shrugged away the thought as the song slowly ended. Luke settled with both hands on your waist while yours were around his neck. Usually, you would put your head on his chest as you both slightly swayed around. But now that you were in a relationship, you kept a bit of distance between the two of you. You gaze up at Luke, who was already staring at you sweetly. The moment was perfect. Gods, you almost wished to stay in it forever.

Meanwhile, Luke hoped he could convey his thoughts through his eyes - the unspoken words he wished he had told you sooner. Could you not see the infatuation coursing through his veins whenever he was with you? Could you not see that you got him at your beck and call? 

The look you gave him almost convinced him that you heard his thoughts. You leaned your head on his chest, caught off-guard by the speed of his heartbeat as it soothed you along with the music in the background. Feeling a heated look over his way, Luke glanced around and locked eyes with your boyfriend. Cole narrowed his eyes while Luke gave Cole a look of resentment and immense loathing. 

Gods, he could be a much better boyfriend than Cole.

“Hey, man,” when you heard your boyfriend’s voice, you lifted your head from Luke’s chest and withdrew your hands around his neck. “I’ll take over from here,” Cole practically pulled you away from Luke and started swaying with you. Instead of feeling happy that Cole finally danced with you after two months of dating, you felt wrong. Cole's hands were on your waist, but they felt sluggish like his heart was not in it at all. Your ear was against Cole’s chest, so you caught the sound of his heartbeat. It sounded…too calm, almost cold and shallow, causing you to twist your lips into a frown.

You glanced up at your boyfriend but saw him staring behind you instead. So you glanced back and caught a glimpse of Luke before getting pulled around by Cole, who roughly yanked your face towards him. He kissed you almost aggressively. There was something cynical and bitter about the way he was kissing you. 

Cole opened his eyes and conceitedly made eye contact with Luke. The Hermes boy glared at the sight of Cole handling you so roughly, claiming your lips so smugly. If it was him, he would be kissing you for you; he would be kissing you to show you how much he worshiped you and the ground you walk on, not to prove an empty point.

You finally managed to pull away when Cole let go of your chin. “All right, we’re done for the night, don’t you think?” your boyfriend muttered, quickly leaving you to return to his friends as if nothing had happened. Despite feeling slightly aggravated at Cole, you hated that you couldn't care less of his words at that moment, and the first thing you did was look in the direction Luke had been before. 

Yet, he was not there anymore.

~~~

Your cabin was not on the same side as Luke’s cabin for this match of capture the flag. You were fighting off some people who were on the blue team. Years of training with Luke paid off because you managed to point your sword at the person’s neck and grinned when they put their hands up in surrender. You continued perusing through the area, trying to regroup with your team or take down another blue team member. However, you almost tripped as you witnessed Cole on the ground with Luke on top of him, repeatedly punching his face..

“Luke!” you called out, watching as Luke’s action faltered, and his eyes darted around frantically around like a lost wild animal. However, Cole took advantage of Luke’s momentary distraction to land a hit on Luke’s face. The Ares boy got off the ground as Luke stumbled and went for another punch. However, Luke dodged it effortlessly and rammed Cole against a tree instead.

“Hey, knock it off,” you yelled, standing between the boys to stop their flight. Luke immediately backed off, afraid he would accidentally hurt you if he didn’t. But Cole, in the middle of his blind rage, still swung for Luke and ended up striking you across the face instead. Right when that happened, Luke pushed Cole again and rushed to your side to assess your injury. At that very moment, Chiron approached the scene with one of Cole’s friends next to him, who promptly told the man:

“It was him. Luke initiated the fight.” 

~~~

Luke wished for somebody to put him out of this misery as he stared at you from afar helplessly. He was so dotted that it hurt. Somebody must have answered his prayers because your eyes met his from across the field. There was a bit of sadness behind them, perhaps regret from how things ended yesterday. You whispered something to your boyfriend, but Cole did not even spare you a glance and waved his hand as if dismissing you from the discussion. Luke’s hand once again curled into a fist. He bit the inside of his cheek from the pain induced by his injury. The Hermes cabin counselor felt no bit of guilt in his body about his physical altercation with Cole. He felt smug at the sight of Cole with one black eye, busted lip, swollen cheek and a body sporting way more bruises than him. 

You deserved better. 

“Hey, stranger,” you greeted, sitting beside Luke. Almost immediately, he hooked one finger under your chin, tilting your head lightly as if he was afraid he might break you. The boy scanned over your injury, sighing at the sight of purple forming under your skin, indicating an emerging bruise. Even so, under the moonlight, you still looked heavenly to him.

“Devon said you initiated the fight. Is that true, Luke?” Luke frowned at the mention of Cole’s friend. Great, now he knew another idiot’s name. Meanwhile, you have asked this because you knew him. There was no way the boy you knew would lose control like this and swing his hands first. 

“No, but what’s the point of telling Chiron that? It’s two against one,” he breathed out.

“Luke, you’re literally the friendliest and nicest counselor here. Of course, he would believe you,” you reasoned. You sighed disappointingly as Luke only shook his head in response as if asking you to drop it.

Now, you two sat in silence. It felt the same as the comforting ones you have had with him before - the ones that made you feel like you were at home in front of your fireplace, curled up with a book. 

“Why are you with him?” and with that, the comfort evaporated as the air thickened. You and Luke rarely argued or even disagreed, so it felt like an unfamiliar territory every time it felt relatively tense between you two. 

“I know you, which is why I know that you’re absolutely miserable with him, so I don’t understand why you’re still with Cole,” Luke commented, though his voice was quiet because he was considerate of drawing this type of attention to you. He had seen it before - Cole causing public altercations and storming off and you running after him with tears emerging from your eyes. He did not want to put you in the same position.

“Y/N, please, as your best friend…” there it was again, the word that used to make you smile brightly, was now the same one that brought you pain. You wanted more. “...You deserve better,” he uttered, his eyebrows slightly scrunched as he looked at you with those eyes. There it was again, the look so intense that you were convinced they could swallow you whole. Yet, you could not interpret them. So, you looked away.

“Luke…” you said his name almost like a warning sign. The boy sighed at this. 

His fingers gently tilted your chin towards him, urging you to face him. There was so much contrast in the way he touches you and the way Cole does. You knew precisely why Luke wanted you to look at him: your eyes were your tell for him. Years ago, after you told him that eyes were the windows to one's soul, he told you that he knew this already because he had learned that your eyes will always tell the truth for you. That’s how, in so many instances, he would be the first to notice whenever you're upset. 

“Y/N, does he make you happy?” you stiffened at the question. Words choked up in your throat as your mouth opened to answer. You wanted to say yes so you both could get over this conversation. But you knew he would be able to tell you were lying. The way he looked at you right now, as if you were the only thing that mattered. He seemed so vulnerable. Little did you right at this moment, Luke was willing to surrender and let you go if you said yes.

“Oh, this is who you left me to talk to?” Cole's voice broke you both out of the trance. “The person who beat your boyfriend?” Cole passive-aggressively spat, sneering from above as he looked down at the two of you. You called out to your boyfriend, but he quickly cut you off with a quick “Unbelievable,” before walking away. But Cole did this on purpose. He liked the attention he drew, even if they were at your expense, especially because he knew you would chase after him.

“I’m so sorry,” you muttered to Luke on your boyfriend's behalf as you stood up to run after him. Luke frowned as he shook his head. If you were his, he would never allow you to apologize on his behalf, nor would he give a reason for you to ever do that.

“Uhm, what are you waiting for?” Annabeth’s voice broke Luke from his irritated state. “Go after her,” the young girl nudged.

“I doubt I should do that, Annabeth. Last time I was with him, he ended up in the infirmary.”

“Yes, but you need to go after her before it’s too late.”

“It’s already too late.”

“No, it’s not,” the girl stated sternly, and when Luke peered over at her, he recognized the look on her face. From experience, he knew better than to doubt when Annabeth was right. So, he stood up and walked in the direction where you disappeared after your boyfriend.

“Stop it, Cole. I don’t want to…” Your voice grabbed Luke’s attention as he started walking in that direction, eyebrows furrowed.

“Come on, this is the least you could do to make it up to me,” Cole replied. 

When Luke reached the scene, he almost went into an uncontrollable wrath when he saw Cole trying to take off your shirt as you objected and struggled out of his grip. 

“I said ‘let go,’ Cole,” you yelled this time, pushing him back. Upon finally doing so successfully, a figure stormed past you and immediately flung at Cole’s cheek, right at the spot that was already bruising. The impact knocked Cole to the ground as he wailed from the pain. Averting your gaze to the person, you saw Luke. Like a deranged bull, Luke grabbed Cole by the collar and lifted him up, going in for another hit, but you quickly stopped him, calling out his name.

Cole, who did not learn his lesson, spoke again, “Gods, of course! He runs to your aid again. You must be a good fuck for him to get this attached. How many times have you fucked him, huh? Gods, you’re such a whore, you know that?” If it were not for your hands stopping Luke and removing his grip from Cole’ shirt, Luke would have ensured Cole no longer had a face. 

“Cole, stay the fuck away from me. We are over.” Your words seemed to affect Luke more than Cole. It was as if Luke could feel an immense weight being lifted from his shoulders. “Let’s go, this is not worth it,” you told Luke. Cole barked a laugh at this.

“Man, you’re more trouble than it's worth. Do you know why no guys ever asked you out? You’re fucking difficult and clingy, that’s why. If it was not for that fucking bet, I would not have either.” Luke was about to launch at Cole but was caught off guard because you had already done it yourself. You punched him, aiming for his nose and teeth, making sure to break a few.

“You fucking bitch!” Cole spoke after he howled in agony. He spat out blood as his nose started bleeding, “Gods, you’re gonna pay for this.”

“Oh yeah? Come on!” you challenged him, motioning him to come over. Any sense of calm or restraint you had was long gone. “I’ll be the one sending you to the fucking infirmary this time,” right when you started approaching Cole again, you were quickly stopped by Luke. He stood behind you, one of his hands soothingly rubbing your back in an attempt to calm you down. Luke averted his gaze to Cole.

“If you know any better, then leave, Cole. And don’t come near any of us again, or I promise you…” Luke trailed off, shaking his head as his eyes bore the weight of the promise he left unsaid, leaving it to Cole’s imagination as to what Luke would ever do to him if he ever saw the boy again. Something seemed to dawn on Cole as he saw the dark look on Luke’s face. Cole finally decided to leave the scene, limping away from the area as he muttered some insults under his breath.

You turned around and inspected Luke’s hand, which started bleeding again through the bandage. Taking his non-injured hand in yours, you wordlessly dragged the boy to the infirmary. Despite the excruciating pain spreading through his injured hand, Luke blushed at your action and followed you like a lost puppy.

The Apollo person on shift was someone you knew, so you managed to convince them to let you do the work on the Hermes boy. You observed his hand again, peeling off the dirty bandage from it. As you went to grab disinfectant, Luke softly held you back by flipped over his hand that was in yours so that he could take a look at your hand instead.

“Are you okay?” His words made you swiftly look over at him instead. There was a sad look on his face as he sat on the infirmary bed. You haven’t seen him this hurt and dejected in a long time.

“Am I okay? You’re the one with the bleeding hand.”

“You punched him quite hard.”

“He deserved it,” you settled on answering, hesitantly pulling your hand out of his so you could grab the things you needed. 

“You know I had that handled, right?” you asked mindlessly, trying to fill the silence as you disinfected his hand and wrapped a new bandage over it. “I don’t need you to defend my honor or anything, Luke. I can hold my own ground,” you tried joking.

“No, I know you can hold your own ground. Besides, I wasn’t defending your honor,” he spoke softly, watching as you delicately held his hand with so much care. He wished you could hold him like that as well. A quivering sigh escaped his soft lips, his voice much less firm than he wanted it to be: 

“I was defending the girl I’m in love with.”

You immediately looked at him, only to see him already gazing up at you. It was as if a blindfold had been taken off, you finally understood what your other friends were referring to when they said that Luke had always “looked” at you. His eyes were filled with adoration. However, this time, they were also decorated with pain.

“I could be a better boyfriend than him,” he stated, almost like it was a fact, and your gut knew it was true, too. 

“So….Why not me? I watched you give Cole - a complete asshole - a chance with you. I watched him give you so much less than what you deserve. It pains me, but I still sit here and wait for you to look in my direction for even one second in the way I have always looked at you. I could be so good to you, Y/N. I waited for you to realize I could be the one who loves you so endlessly and treats you way better than all these guys combined. So…why? Please tell me why and put me out of my misery. Why is it not me?”

“Luke…” you rasped out his name. Despite the pain he was in, his heart could not help but throb for a second as it yearned for the sound of your voice calling out to him again. He almost scowled at himself for the way he was reacting to you. Gods, you managed to unravel him through the sound of his name from your lips. He hesitated for a second, wondering if he would even be able to take it at all - if he was given a chance with you. Would he be able to handle the way your skin felt against his, or would his heart burst into unstoppable flames? Would he ever be able to move on if you ended up breaking his heart, or would it remain in scattered pieces of you?

“I love you,” he uttered so effortlessly, which almost convinced you he had said it a thousand times before. In a way, he did, but only in his mind after every time he bid you goodnight. Gods, never did you think he’d say it out loud and put it out there. You almost said it before as well - out loud to the universe, but never brave enough.

“Luke, I never knew,” Luke wanted to sigh as he looked away from you. For the first time ever, he did not want to be vulnerable and let you see his eyes. The same ones that had been looking longingly at you for the past five years, and you were too blinded to see.

He could have sworn that he had been laying it on thick for the past years - all the touches, the looks, his actions. Luke would always linger near you and select you first every time he had to go on a quest. And if he ever were selected to go on one without you, the first thing he would do after returning is wrap his arms around your waist as he pulled you into a hug, breathing in your presence like it would bring him back to life from the gruesome battles he had to go through while out of camp. Did all those actions throughout five years not show you enough that he was infatuated with you? He wanted to reassure you that what Cole said previously was not true. Many guys wanted you but never asked you out because they knew he would be first in line no matter what. 

"Luke, please, look at me," Of course he obeyed. His eyes met yours - the ones he always tried to find in a crowd of demigods.

“I never knew that you were an option. I did not know that I could choose you. I thought that even attempting to tell you about my feelings would break our friendship forever. I didn’t know you felt this way, too. In fact,” you dryly chuckled. “I was giving Cole a chance because I was trying to move on from you.” Luke tugged you closer to him, his fingers lingering on your hips. Thousands of thoughts speared through him as he tried to collect himself. A glimmer of hope presented itself as his mind toyed with the idea of you wanting him too.There was no way he was letting you move on now, not when you both have mutual feelings. 

“I thought I was deep in the friend zone. Did you not see all the moves I pulled on you?” he asked.

“What moves?”

“Uhm—the physical contact?”

“I thought you were just touchy.”

“I walked you back to your cabin every night!”

“Well, I thought it was just a best friend thing?”

“The first thing I do after every quest is search for you, you’re always the first one I want to see.”

“I really, really thought it was because you were my best friend.” He groaned at all of your responses.

“But do know, Luke. You have always been my first option in everything. And I would have chosen you again and again, the first pick every round…if I knew you were up for it.” He groaned again, but this time out of temptation and satisfaction. He didn’t think the metaphorical butterflies were real. He slowly but surely stood up from the infirmary’s bed and wrapped his arms around your waist. You reciprocated, your hands around his neck. He leaned closer to you and gulped. He wanted to say the right words, do the right things and not mess this up. He took a deep breath and finally settled on what to say next.

“Can I kiss you?” He muttered in a low, raspy voice with a restrained manner, as if he was holding himself back. Five years of pining led him to this point. You almost melted at the sound of his voice.

“Kiss me, Luke.”

And he did. He pulled you up and arched down, connecting your lips together. He dove in as if he had been waiting for this day his whole life. He felt every breath knocked out of his lungs. He sunk himself into this moment like he was living for it rather than in it. He kissed you as if it was the only time he could and as if you would evaporate if he stopped. His hands moved to your face to embrace your cheeks in his palm.

You started moving your hands up his head and played with his curly hair. You tugged it slightly, and the action drew a moan from Luke. The sound caused you to break away. It made you flustered that you had evoked such an alluring sound from the Hermes boy. 

“I wanna go slow for you, I really do. But it feels like I’ve been waiting for so long. I want to be a gentleman and not skip steps. But I can’t wait anymore,” he whispered before whimpering against your lips, “please be mine.”

He went in for another kiss again, but you pulled away. His heart clenched at this. The boy bit his lip and wanted to scowl at himself for attempting to speed things up. He was too greedy and wanted things too quickly for you. He almost whined at the thought of losing the chance he barely had.

“That was not a question, Luke. Ask me, and I’ll give you an answer,” he stared into your eyes, and it almost set him on fire. He never saw that much passion in them before. It almost matched his, and that made his heart fasten again.

“Will you be mine, sunshine?”

“Yes, Luke. As long as you’re mine too.”

“I have always been yours.”

——————————

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[joyful-soul-collector]

I've seen a lot of people talking about how Barbie talks about how the patriarchy affects women and how well it does that, so I wanna talk about how Barbie talks about how the patriarchy affects men and how well it does that. Because it does that really well tbh.

At the beginning of the movie, it's made very clear that the Kens are constantly competing with each other, and trying to prove their worth, their Ken-ness, to both the Barbies, and more importantly, to the other Kens. In fact, multiple times through the movie it's shown that Ken seems to find the opinions of other Kens as a motivator for him to do things. He tries to show off to Barbie only after he sees the other Kens saying hi to her. He only starts dancing with Barbie when he sees the other Kens dancing with her. He only goes with her to the Real World after another Ken accuses him of cowardice and he decides to prove him wrong. Barbie says "Ken's not cool!" and Ken responds "He is to me."

This shows so damn well what the patriarchy is like for men. Because for the Kens it's not necessarily about Barbie, it's about what other Kens think of you. Being a man you are constantly, incessantly trying so damn hard to prove to the other men around you that you are a man, the manliest man to ever man, the best Ken to ever Ken. Literally doing backflips trying to prove yourself. And this is before patriarchy is even officially introduced to the story, there's no undertone of power yet, this is just what it's like to be a man around other men. It's toxic masculinity.

And when the patriarchy is introduced, that's increased tenfold. At first it looks like they've banded together to take power, but really they're still competing with each other, they're just doing it differently. Rather than competing to see who can get Barbie to fall in love with them, they're competing to see who can be the manliest, have the manliest stuff, wear the manliest clothes, have the manliest house and decorations.

And then they literally go to war. War is considered one of the few places where it's socially accepted for men to be more emotional, form deep and personal bonds with other men, and that's exactly what happens in the movie. They go to war, and there's an entire song where they bond and learn not to fight with each other anymore.

And that I think is the message from the Kens. For men, the way the patriarchy affects them is it forces constant competition and animosity, even around people that are supposed to be your friends. It makes it impossible to express your feelings unless they're with a romantic partner, and all of this turns you into a pent up ball of emotions with nowhere to go.

Which means that the message is: In order to fix the way the patriarchy oppresses men, men need to learn how to form close bonds with people, especially other men. Because like Barbie said to Ken, he needs to discover who he is without her. Men have learned to lean on women as a crutch, using them to figure out how to Be A Person and express emotions in a healthy way, but this can very quickly turn into a woman feeling like she needs too be his mother and teach him how to do these things. And Ken was 100% doing this, or at least he was trying to throughout the movie. Ken was so desperate for Barbie to be in love with him, not necessarily because he loved her, but because he needed a person he could just exist as himself around. Because he couldn't do that with the other Kens, the only person he could be himself around was Barbie.

And what's so great about the end of the movie is that the Kens did eventually figure out how to form close bonds with each other! They went to war, argued and fought, but by the end of the song they were holding hands, kissing each other on the cheek, telling each other they were enough. Even when Ken is up in the dreamhouse, crying and saying that he looks stupid, all the other Kens start shouting back up to him, saying that he looks cool. And Ken responds by giving one of his new friends his coat, which was clearly very important to him.

What the Kens did, that's what men in the real world need to do. They need to form close bonds with other men and stop competing with each other. Hopefully not by going to war the way the Kens did, Barbie isn't a blueprint for solving the patriarchy lol.

I'd be happy to do it through a song though.

[viennakarma]

The Lucky One

Part 1 (of 2) | Sebastian Vettel x Reader

Summary: Formula One had been your dream and your goal ever since you were a kid, and you did all you had to in order to achieve it. Between ups and downs, Sebastian becomes a steady presence despite being your complicated frenemy relationship. Until everything comes crashing down. Formula One gives, but Formula One takes.

Word count: 6.5k

Tags: female!reader, driver reader, reader is mirrorball coded, coming of age, cursing, romance, both are assholes, smut, +18, complicated feelings, rivals to lovers, crash, major injury, medical innacuracies, bittersweet ending, not beta read

Relationship: Sebastian Vettel x Reader

Note: This is fully inspired by the song, and throughout my writing process I realized it also fits mirrorball. This one may require some tissues (especially in part 2). Everything is fictional and I mean no disrespect to Sebastian or his family (they don't exist in this story). Let me know in the comments if you wanna be tagged for part 2. Not proofread. Comments and feedback are welcomed.

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You knew from an early age that charisma could conquer the world, it was a relatively easy taught lesson back in your early karting days. Mum sat you down one day in karting, showing two other kids around. One sitting alone, quietly twinkling with his go-kart, you knew him, Jamie-something, one of the best kids in karting, and you always had fun battles with him, but he was a bit of an odd one out. The other kid mum pointed at was Nick, loud, funny and popular… not that good at karting but a really smart talker. And it showed as he was surrounded by adults and other kids, every bit of attention on him.

You were around 11 when your mum pointed out the difference between the two kids.

“What is different about them, darling?” Mum asked you.

“Jamie is alone… And Nick is surrounded by people.”

“And why do you think that is?”

“I don’t know, Mama…” You said, scratching your brain to try and reply.

“Jamie is not very good with people, right? He’s a bit of an introvert…” Your mum said, quite somberly, “And Nick, he’s charismatic, see how he manages to grab everyone's attention?” As you nodded, your mum kept talking, “There are greater chances of Nick making far in motorsports, rather than Jamie.”

“But it’s not fair! Jamie is much better…”

“I know, darling… But you’ll see that motorsports is not fair at all. And unfortunately, if you really want to go far in this career, you’ll have to do everything they want and more. Being a good driver won’t be enough.”

“Why not, mama?” You asked, pouting.

“Because everybody loves pretty and everybody loves cool.”

-

Over the next few years of your teens, you learned to adapt, not only in karting, then single seaters, then Formula categories, not only as a driver, but as a person. You were fun, charming, and after a few years, it came to you easily. Laugh at his joke, that’s a sponsor. Smile at the journalists and they’ll write you as the future of motorsport. Be funny, but not too funny to the point they won’t take you seriously. Smile, but not too much so they don’t think you’re flirting. Be smart about your sport, but not too smart so they won’t feel emasculated. Take good care of your career and your every step, but don’t let them know so they won’t call you manipulative. Never be angry, never lash out, never be curt.

Nobody ever thought about you as a carefully crafted person, because even that was planned out. No one called you fake. They always thought you were that person: funny, smart and pretty like a 60’s queen.

You made it to Formula 1 at the age 23, a little late but you had accounted for that, being a woman and all. You were a damn good driver, but really it was your charm that put you there. You knew that your presence was good PR for the Federation. Look how inclusive we are!

After substituting a driver twice in the 2014 season, you were signed in 2015 for Toro Rosso, rookie you and rookie Max Verstappen, who was much younger than you. You and him got along well, but you couldn’t help but think how he got the chance to join Formula 1 much younger than you, having had almost the same career path in earlier categories. The only difference? You were a woman.

But you didn’t let that outshine your happiness of making it to Formula 1.

Soon you got in everyone’s good graces, charming your way through motorsports like you had been doing your whole career. Your first ever race as an official driver on the grid, there was this sense of relief, of making it to the ultimate dream. All that you had endured was worth it in that glorious moment.

You managed a little friendship with most drivers, getting to chat with them despite your rivalry on the track. You end up getting two podiums that season, brilliantly going down in history.

Well into your first official season, somehow the nickname “Principessa” caught on after an Italian newspaper wrote a praiseful cover article about how you managed to be classy and talented in your rookie year at Toro Rosso.

Life was a dream come true all the way to 2016, when you realized, Sebastian Vettel didn’t like you much. You thought it was just a distance thing, since you two weren’t used to talking that much. Until you overheard him talking about you with Nico, one of the drivers he was always talking to.

“I’m just not really interested…” Sebastian sounded reluctant.

“She’s really nice once you get to chat with her,” Nico said, as you hid behind a pile of tyres, “Vivian adores her, she even sent her a basket of goodies because of the pregnancy.”

“I understand. But me and her don’t click,” Sebastian mumbled, sounding annoyed.

“And why not?”

“She’s fake. A perfect PR doll, and I don’t like it.”

There was a long silence from Nico, probably shocked at the sudden harshness of Sebastian’s towards someone he had barely opened up to meet. You stood there frozen for a couple of seconds, not understanding his aversion to you.

Snapping out of it, you silently walked away without them noticing you were ever there. You couldn’t believe how, or why Sebastian could see right through you, how he could say that stuff when he had barely talked to you. But worst of all, you couldn’t understand his aversion to you, being against you.

“Having a quiet day?” Nico asked later that day, at the drivers parade as you stood a bit quieter than usual, still in your head about Sebastian’s words.

“Oh, no! Just a bit hungry!” You lied with a believable smile, “How’s Vivian?” You decided to change the subject.

Later that year, you had a great, almost competitive car, which had taken you to P3 in the championship standings, with a real, consistent chance of fighting for the championship.

Unfortunately for you, after the fourth to last race of the season, one race you had finished first place, you and part of your team were called in to talk with the representatives of the FIA because of an irregular part of your car. It was a minimal part of the livery that connected with the air vents, they said it was irregular, and despite the team showing proof that you had gained no advantage out of that, you were still punished with disqualification from that race.

It wasn’t just the problem of being DSQ, but not making points in that race meant you were out of the fight for the championship.

It felt like a punch in the face. Unjustifiable and an arbitrary decision.

After that disqualification, that came out right after the race had ended, Sebastian was the one to inherit that win, and a small part of him wanted to check on you, just because those kinds of disqualifications were a blow to the confidence of a driver.

Sebastian walked into your driver’s room and the first thing he noticed were the objects thrown around on the floor, a flipped table and chair. Chess pieces and boards on the floor, along with water bottles and towels, he looked around and you were sitting in a corner, on the floor, tears streaming down your face as you tried to wipe them with trembling hands, but the tears kept coming down.

It sent Sebastian into some sort of shock, he knew you for around three years now, and he had never seen you cry, or be angry, or even annoyed. You were always happy and bubbly… And now… It was like you were someone else, so painfully real, multifaceted for the first time.

“Hey… you-” He wasn’t even sure of what to say.

“They took my chances from me…” You said, voice trembling and a fresh stream of tears, “they did it on purpose. They did it to keep me where I am, to keep me on a leash, to not let me become a World Champion.”

“I’m so sorry…” He knelt down by your side, unsure of what to do or say.

“I did everything right. Played by their rules. I smiled, and I danced like a circus monkey, and I clapped even when I shouldn’t… I took it silently even when they threw spears at my chest. I swallowed my pride countless times to be here. I did everything right…” You knew you were rambling, to someone who probably didn’t even like you, but you couldn’t stop, the burning rage that brought tears to your eyes was stronger than anything you ever felt.

Sebastian didn’t know what to say, too shocked by the view of the real you that he could barely wrap his head around it. There was anger in your eyes, sadness, but somewhat a sprinkle of despair too. So he did the only thing his mind could think of, he hugged you. A little awkwardly, but a hug nonetheless. He felt your tears dampening his shirt, your hands fisting the material as if you were drowning and he was the only lifebuoy left. The sobs rocked your shaky frame and he held you for a long time, until someone from the team came to check on you. Then Sebastian hesitantly let go of you, despite your fingers still gripping his shirt, he pulled back, astonished.

As he left, stunned, he couldn’t even remember the reason he had gone there in the first place.

You only saw Sebastian again, the following race weekend, during media day. You were sitting on a box, drinking some water, your legs dangling in the air. You looked like you always did, bubbly, content, hair in place, light makeup…

Despite everything, and the memories being a little blurry, you didn’t forget what Sebastian had done for you. But even though the support was nice at the time, you couldn’t help but feel an immense amount of shame and embarrassment for what he had witnessed. Your mask had slipped, and you didn’t know how to proceed in this new, unknown territory.

In the end, you opted for deflection.

“Hey,” Sebastian approached you, looking slightly worried, “how…” he cleared his throat, “how have you been?” There was a silent question there, a silent approach to everything that had transpired the other day.

“Hi? Yeah, I’m alright, thanks!” You said with a bright smile, but now Sebastian could see it never reached your eyes. You hopped off the box you were sitting on, starting to walk away.

“Um- about the other day…?” Sebastian tried to breach the subject, unsure of how you would react.

“Oh, that? It was silly, just forget about it!” You kept smiling, your voice was cheerful, but your eyes betrayed that. You kept walking away, eating fruits and Sebastian ran up to you again, confused about you brushing under the rug something that was a pretty big deal.

“No, uh- how-” He wanted to think of something to say, but your smile dimmed a little bit as you looked at him.

“Let’s forget about that. And please don’t pity me.” You said with that same frozen smile and Sebastian frowned. He wasn’t pitying you, he was genuinely worried about that.

You walked away before he could say anything else. He was shocked at you dismissing so easily a full blown breakdown you had the week before. He had spent days thinking about you, not because he enjoyed any of it, he didn’t, but because he saw you for the first time. The real you. The ugly and painful parts, but it was so, so genuine, he knew that was the real you, with an honest reaction to something that hurt and upset you. He saw something he had never seen in you before, and he couldn’t get that version of you out of his head.

It was obvious you didn’t want to talk about that, or even address it. And Sebastian wasn’t going to press for answers, because in the end, he didn’t even like you particularly. He didn’t. And in the media pen, when a reporter asked you about the penalty that took you out of the championship competition, you smiled politely.

“Oh, I believe the FIA did the right thing, if I was accidentally irregular, that’s what should have been done. No complaints on my part or on behalf of my team,” You said into the mic, seeing in their faces that no one expected that response. Sebastian kept staring at you, in disbelief.

“Well, I for one,” Sebastian said after a few shocked seconds, “think that her disqualification was bullshit.”

The room burst out laughing, even you. A fake laugh, but since no one could tell, it was still a laugh. Saving your tears for some other time, alone and quiet, away from prying eyes.

Despite everything, you and Sebastian didn’t become closer, but in some way he just decided to open up to you a little bit more, as opposed to what he had been doing these past few years. He still wasn’t a friend or a close acquaintance, but he was less closed off and less short towards you. There was a silent acknowledgement of each other in public settings, a quiet nod or polite smile here and there.

It wasn’t until a few weeks later that he was about to leave the hotel to go to a dinner during the week of the Malaysian GP, when he got into the elevator and as he got to the first floor, you stumbled into the small space, reeking of alcohol and makeup a little smeared. He called your name, in such shock he forgot to hop out and the elevator started going up again.

“What,” You said, holding yourself steady against the elevator wall. Sebastian was shocked, that was another facet of you, raw and belling with the persona you usually sold the world.

“Are you okay?” He asked, the elevator stopping on your floor.

“I’m fine,” you said, stumbling out of the elevator in your high heels, Sebastian couldn’t help but also step out, grabbing your arm to steady you, “I said I’m fine!” You said, drunkenly stomping your foot.

“No, you’re not. Come on, give me your key.” Sebastian said, with a voice that left no space for arguing. 

You tried to be stubborn, but he just grabbed your purse and started fumbling with it until he grabbed your key-card. Holding your arm, he guided you to your hotel suite. Once inside, he placed you sitting on an armchair, and as he knelt in front of you to remove your shoes, you plopped back against the backrest.

“No, no,” he said, tossing your heels away and pulling your arms so you’d sit up straight, “No sleeping yet, come on. I didn’t pick you for a drinker.”

“And I didn’t pick you for a nosy asshole” You snapped back.

“Well, well, well, isn’t motorsports’ favorite doll hiding a foul mouth?” He said, holding you up, guiding you to the bathroom.

“Don’t call me that!”

“Well, isn’t that what you are? We both know the truth, Principessa.” There was some bitterness to the way he said the nickname. You were not particularly fond of the nickname either, but the way he said it, with disgust, it rubbed you the wrong way.

“Why are you here?” You asked slowly.

“Why are you hammered on a Tuesday night?” He held you up, putting you on your feet and calmly leading you to the bathroom.

“Why shouldn’t I?”

Sebastian pressed his lips together at your deflection, deep down he knew. More than anyone he knew you were just pretending to be okay with being taken out of the fight for the championship. He knew you were hurting. He also wanted to tell you that wasn’t the way to go about it, but at the end of the day, you two weren’t really close.

“Get in the shower. Cold.” He said, walking out of the bathroom and closing the door behind himself.

He could hear the sound of the water running, so he went to the phone and ordered soup and tea from room service. He sat down on the armchair, somewhat worried about you. He had gone through that before, but he was also four times world champion, compared to you who was just in your second year, losing the opportunity to fight for the championship for a mistake that wasn’t yours and that was completely out of your hands.

You left the bathroom dressed in a fluffy robe, face clean off of remnants of makeup. But your eyes were puffy and red, and he wondered if you were crying in the shower. He didn’t ask.

“Since you look a little more sober, I’m going. Room service will bring you something to eat and something non-alcoholic to drink.”

You sat on the couch opposite to him, feeling a little better and a bit more sober. You watched as he got up, his blue eyes never leaving yours. You had many questions. But the most important one was why he was there. Why was he taking care of you? You knew he didn’t like you, he knew you knew it too. Before you could ask any of it, he walked towards the door.

“Thank you,” You mumbled. He only nodded, not bothering to look back at you. It was a quiet murmur, but some part of you hoped he knew that thank you wasn’t about just this instance, but also the time he consoled you when no one else did.

The rest of the season, you managed to get ahold of yourself since you knew, keeping wallowing in self pity would get you nowhere. So you focused on finishing the season better. Sebastian and you also didn’t grow particularly close in the following months, despite sometimes meeting his eyes across the room. There was always this underlying tension between you, like two people that knew a secret but swore to not talk about it.

During the Prize Giving Ceremony, you were mingling with some drivers, members of the team and from the FIA. You were known for being the life of the party, usually a social butterfly, always making connections and meeting new people.

But then, you made a small pause to grab a drink and some air, sitting down on a bench, when Sebastian made his way to you, a somewhat bright smile directed to you as he crossed the room. It was the first time he had ever directed that kind of smile to you. He looked like he had drunk a little bit.

“You look tipsy,” You pointed out as soon as he stopped before you. He grinned.

“High quality champagne,” Sebastian replied, sitting on the bench beside you, raising his flute for a toast. You replied by clicking your flute against his.

You two sat in silence for a couple of minutes, watching the party in full swing.

“You’re back to your old self,” Sebastian pointed out, suddenly. But it didn’t sound like a compliment nor a critique. So you didn’t reply, unsure of what he meant.

“Well, we all do what we gotta do,” You shrugged gently, with a small smile as you turned to face him and his bright blue eyes were already on your face.

“But, you know, it’s good to remember you’re very lucky to be here,” he said.

His words made you stop, your smile fading and that almost accomplice glinting in your eyes completely disappeared. And Sebastian frowned confused, seeing the way you put up your walls again, back to the frozen, fake smile you usually gave the media.

Lucky. You hated that word. You hated how everyone used to say you got lucky to be there. You got lucky to get into Formula 1. You got lucky to be a successful driver. Rarely did anyone mention the efforts you had to put into becoming that. The early mornings training, the absurd amount of time and distance away from your family. All the metaphorical slaps you had to endure with a straight face. Then you realized, Sebastian saw you just the way everyone else saw you. You were lucky, your spot was a gift not the consequence of your efforts.

And Sebastian noticed the shift in your expression in that very moment. He hadn’t meant to offend, and he wasn’t even sure why his words had ticked you off, but he could see. He was probably the only one in that whole room who could tell the real you from your persona, mostly due to the fact that he had seen the real you a couple of times.

“Princess, I-” He started again, but you cut him off.

“Don’t.”

He watched as you stood up, gave him a polite smile and a nod, before sauntering away.

The following year, your car was improved, and even better than the year before, you were up there in the stands, and after a third of the season, you and the team knew you were a contender for the championship. You did everything in your power to be the world champion that year. Your main competitor was Lewis Hamilton. Somehow, despite the fierce battles on track, you two managed to maintain a certain level of respect outside it. Probably because you two were different kinds of minority in that sport, or because he had learned a lesson with how everything had come down with Rosberg. Funnily enough, you two had managed a somewhat friendship that very year.

You and Sebastian, on the other hand, grew more distant than ever, and you barely spoke that year. You two kept this cold, polite façade in front of the media and other drivers.

Battle after battle, the media pressure only grew on your shoulders, you weren’t just a pretty face for the sponsors to plaster your face around, you showed a real driver existed behind that persona. And it pissed some people off, just because now you were a woman playing a big man’s sport. They nitpicked every mistake you made if you had made some, or they diminished your every win if you didn’t make a mistake. Because you were lucky. You were lucky that one time Vettel DNFed. You were lucky this one time Lewis Hamilton crashed out. You were lucky your tyres were better during some overtakes. You were lucky for that good pitstop.

When you became World Champion that year, during the Mexican GP, it had all been worth it to endure. The weight of the trophy in your hands, the way you hugged it to your chest in the top step of the podium, crying as the other drivers splashed you with champagne, that was the taste of the years of dedication paying off.

The celebrations were wild, the team, some of the other drivers, everyone congratulated you. You were at a nightclub, drink in hand when suddenly Sebastian Vettel appeared out of nowhere. You supposed all drivers were invited, but you didn’t expect him to actually show up.

He walked up at you, loose shirt, messy hair and flushed face. Biting his lip to hide a smile, that genuine smile he had given you only once since you met him. And Sebastian had never seen you so beautiful. He knew you were always pretty, like you were some sort of model, but in that moment, you looked genuinely happy, and the smile you could barely contain in your face made you even more stunning than you already were.

“Congratulations, Principessa,” He smiled, stopping beside you. At that moment, you didn’t even remember that you were ever upset with him, that you had barely spoken the whole season. He remembered very well that feeling of being champion, the relief and happiness.

“Thank you.”

“I’m sorry about what I said last year. I never meant to diminish you. And later on I understood why you felt upset by it.” Sebastian said, firmly. It made you feel validated, and it was nice that he had realized on his own.

“It’s okay. It’s water under the bridge.”

Sebastian nodded, understanding. You both went back to the party. And later that night you two were dancing on the dance floor with some other people. You were not physically close, more like jumping up and down and singing, facing each other, laughing. But there was that spark in each other’s eyes again, like there was a funny secret you two were keeping.

That’s how you two ended up going to his hotel, sitting silently in the back of a car, the windows a bit rolled down and the fresh air of the night hitting your faces. This silent tension that had always been brewing reached a boiling point. None of you moved or said anything, afraid of breaking the spell even on the way up to his floor. But the moment you crossed the threshold of his hotel room, you tiptoed to him, kissing him. He kicked the door shut, one arm around your waist as he pulled up to his height so he could properly kiss you. The other hand on the back of your head, pressing you further into him as if he wanted to merge with you, his lips and tongue coaxing yours open, his kiss all tongue and teeth as if he was starved for you. You two stumbled inside, but Sebastian managed to keep you upright by pressing you against a small side table, while you two laughed at his clumsiness.

When he put you down again, he reached for the back of your tube dress, tugging the zipper down, but it got stuck and he muttered a curse, which made you laugh again against his neck.

“Sorry about this,” he said, before forcefully tugging the dress, which made it rip off, and the dress fell down, pooled at your feet, leaving you naked in only your panties and shoes. He took a moment to take in your figure, humming appreciatively.

You took a step forward, removing his shirt without a second thought, followed by you also fumbling with his belt. You two were giggling when finally all clothes were out of the way and Sebastian pulled you into his arms, kissing you deeply before pushing you into the bed. His lips around your nipples as his hands teased your body, touching, groping, feeling the smoothness of your skin.

When he climbed up, holding your head so you would look at him while his fingers fucked you open, there was this deep sense of intimacy in his eyes as he watched you. Then finally, he got on top of you, holding one of your thighs up against his waist and he sank down, in one deep stroke as you two moaned. His movements were slow and hard, enjoying every little thing about you. The soft sounds you made, your dilated pupils, the way your cunt fluttered around him when he hit a particularly perfect spot.

It didn’t take you long to come, your hands around his waist, nails sinking into his back. After you did, he knelt back, pulling your legs up, ankles by his shoulders as he then went even faster with each thrust, your moans growing louder as you went careening into a second orgasm, and soon he followed behind you, biting on your ankle to muffle his groans.

“Damn…” He sighed, breathless as he plopped on the bed right beside you.

“Damn is right…” You laughed.

After that, you two got in the shower, kissing and making out like teenagers, until he bent you over the glass wall, fucking you again until you two came again, your back to his chest and his hand down your front to tease you clit.

When you two fell on the bed again, you were out like a light.

The following morning you woke up painfully early, his arms around you as you situated yourself, when you checked your phone, you realized you were late to catch your flight. So you carefully removed yourself from his arms without waking him up, stole some clothes from his suitcase since your dress was ruined, and left in a cab.

You didn’t speak about through the final two races of the season and not at all during winter break. A small part of you had expected him to say something about what had happened. You were not sure what.

As the new season started the following year, the underlying tension between you now had a new kind of meaning behind it. Since you couldn’t look at each other and not think of that night. Of his hands tightening on your ass, of your nails scratching his back.

You decided to leave it all behind, focusing on the season and trying to strike that second consecutive championship. It was hard, it wasn’t that your car was bad, per se, but it was unreliable. Sometimes you were about to win a race when it suddenly had some sort of malfunction or some kind of shut down that had you DNF a race you should’ve won. Despite that, you made the best of it, achieving a couple of podiums and eventually, your first win of the season.

That night, you met with Sebastian again, the first real conversation ever since what had happened the year before. 

“Congratulations on the win,” He said with a smile.

“You too, congrats on the win last week.”

And just as the first time, soon you two were wrapped around each other in the elevator, lost in a desperate kiss. Kisses and giggles as you made your way stumbling to your hotel room. This time, he had you bent over the bed, hands on the mattress as he knelt down eating you out for the life of him until you had come fisting the sheets, then he got up and fucked you from behind.

You two laid on the bed, breathless and with a thin layer of sweat as he pulled you closer, a palm over your stomach, tracing all dips and curves lazily.

“Here we are again,” Sebastian whispered, and you looked at his eyes, shining blue and flushed face.

“Seems like we keep coming back for more…” You pointed out, with a laugh.

He was about to say something when his phone rang, and he found his jeans and picked up the call. You just watched as he started speaking on the phone, quickly grabbing his clothes and starting to dress up again.

“I’m sorry,” He said after finishing the call, buttoning up his pants, “We have a photoshoot to do, and I had completely forgotten about it.”

“It’s fine,” You said, sitting up on the bed.

He paused for a moment, looking at you all naked and debauched on the bed, looking especially delicious. Sebastian wished at that moment he could have taken a picture to keep with him forever while you looked like a goddess. He just pecked your lips, deep and fast, before scurrying off. A stupid smile in both of your faces that you couldn’t see.

Weirdly enough, you didn’t talk about that again. It was like you were two different people in other settings, but back in the motorsport world, you had no opening or desire to be that two people that stole kisses in hotel rooms. But the silent glances were still there, a knowing look exchanged. You didn’t grow any closer out of those brief moments in space and time.

As the season progressed, you got a somewhat grip on the car, even reaching second place in the standings for the WDC.

Your encounters with Sebastian also kept happening, at least once a month. You didn’t talk much about the nature of your relationship, about what it meant, or why it kept happening. It felt like you two were always focused on making the most of the little time you had. One of you would always leave in the middle of the night or early in the morning, without waking up the other, like a silent agreement.

Still, you had a growing feeling that Sebastian didn’t like you outside those fleeting moments. And you knew that those things could happen, you could have great bed chemistry and still not be friends or not particularly be fond of someone. Just sex. It was what you told yourself every time you had to see him be cold and distant during race weeks. You couldn’t help but remember those few years back when he called you a perfect PR doll in a conversation. The harshness in his voice when he talked about you that day still haunted you sometimes.

It all came to a head after you won consecutively the three races in the triple header, and the media was eating that up. But unfortunately, Sebastian had two DNFs and a qualifying so awful that he only managed to finish the last race P8. During the following media day, which had both of you in the same panel, you were asked some questions regarding your recent wins and the perspective of the championship. After replying, there was a small scoff that Sebastian’s mic caught.

“Anything to add to her reply, Sebastian?” The journalist asked.

“No, nothing much…” Sebastian scoffed, “I mean, with Red Bull’s rocketship, winning is what’s expected of it, no?”

The words hit you like a punch, and it took a herculean effort to keep a straight face and seem unaffected. But the wave of silence and tension that followed was enough to show that everyone had caught that jab. Lewis even muttered a disappointed “man…” to Sebastian, away from the mic.

You didn’t look at Sebastian again during that conference, but at that point he could tell your real smile from the fake one. He could see the discreet clench of your jaw and he knew deep down that he had fucked up massively.

That’s why that weekend after the race, one you had placed P3, he went to your motorhome before leaving the paddock, knocking on the door quickly. He waited for you to open the door, hoping and praying you had not left yet. When you finally did, dressed in casual clothes, probably about to leave, he could see the surprise on your face that you had not expected to see him there. You looked around to check if anyone was seeing that before pulling him inside.

“What do you want? Be quick.” You said, finishing packing your bag and barely looking at him.

“I’m sorry about what I said during media day. That was fucked up.” He said, carefully.

“Oh, fuck off, Sebastian…” You scoffed, “we both know you just said what has always been on your mind.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He frowned.

“Don’t play dumb now, Sebastian. Everyone knows. I know and so do you.”

“Know what?” He frowned, taking a step closer.

“That you hate me!” You exploded, turning to face him.

“Is that what you think?!” He asked, offended, “You think I’d have sex with someone I hate?”

“It never stopped anyone before…” You said, rolling your eyes, “Let’s be honest here. All the secrecy, all the never talking about it, never calling or texting before or after… I’m just the ‘Perfect Fake PR doll’  that you don’t like.”

As soon as the words came out of your mouth, Sebastian frowned, but after a few seconds he remembered that he had said those exact words about you, with such annoyance and disgust. That was farthest from the truth, and he couldn’t dare to repeat those words now that he had seen so many raw, genuine parts of you.

“Listen, I just…” He sighed, “I just hate all this fakeness you sell. All this acting and playing a part.”

“It is survival!”

“Survival?” He scoffed, not buying your words, “you pretend to be someone you’re not to appease the world.”

“You wouldn’t ever know what this is about, Sebastian. You’re Formula One’s dream man. You’re the straight white guy they want, the perfect image for motorsports. Be fucking real with me. Do you think if I had half the attitude you do, I’d be treated like you? No, I’d be ostracized,” You said, eyes shining in defensiveness, like he was the enemy you had to pretend to, “I will do what I can to stay here. I do what I can to still have a seat and a career here. Everything I do, is to be perfect, to appease the audience, the sponsors, the FIA, everything, and I still have to deal with misogyny. I still have to hear people saying I should go back to the kitchen. So no, I won’t change.” It was like a dam had broken and you had to put out everything you felt, every pain you had regarding that.

Sebastian sighed, scratching his head. He had fucked up even more, because it had never gone through his head any of that. He had never thought of the backlash you must face, being a woman, about the difficulties to fit, to be accepted in an environment heavily made of older white men that liked things to stay the way they were.

“You got to see the real me, I let myself be vulnerable and genuine with you. God knows the reason why you have seen me more than anyone else has. And you get out there with your full chest implying that I’m winning because of the car, when you know the car has been unreliable and I’m bending over backwards to make this shitbox win races…” Your voice was shaken but you refused to let him see you cry again. That had become ammo in his arsenal one time, you wouldn’t repeat the same mistake again.

“I…” He stuttered like he had just been hit with that knowledge, ashamed that he had never stopped to think about any of that.

“You can hate me all you want, Sebastian. You can tell me you’d rather me be genuine, but I need to wear armor. Out there? I’ll still be the PR Doll you like to call me if it means I get to stay.”

“Principessa, I’m just so-” He started but you cut him off again.

“Just get out, Sebastian. This,” you pointed between you two, “was a mistake to begin with. We both know where we stand with each other.”

“I don’t hate you.” He said, suddenly.

“Right. You need to go.” You rolled your eyes.

“I need you to believe me in this. I don’t hate you.” He repeated, slowly, blue eyes pleading.

“Leave, Sebastian.” You said, not leaving room for argument. He took two steps back, knowing he wasn’t going to get through to you at that moment.

“I don’t hate you,” He said one last time, before turning around and leaving.

PART 2

Let me know in the comments if you wanna be tagged for part 2!

[borathae]

Even Bunnies Bite

"When you get harassed during a night out - not once, but twice - Jungkook shows you that even gentle guys like him can fight, saving you from the harassers. You show him your apprecitiation for it once home. He deserves to know that he is the most perfect person to ever exist."

Pairing: CEO!Jungkook x f.Reader

Genre: married life!AU, Slice of Life Romance, slight Angst in the beginning

Warnings: sexual harassment by strangers in a club, protective!Jungkook, he is so angry at first but calms down in her arms, the most romantic love confessions ever, they're so in love it's insane, cuddles and snuggles, this is so romantic you have no idea

Wordcount: 3.6k

a/n: someone sent in this idea for kinktober and i was inspired. as i was writing it, i realised that smut would be out of place here, hence you are getting a super romantic, emotional oneshot instead 😭i love this couple so much, you girlies have no idea 🤎

You like to go out with your best friends sometimes. You spend all day preparing for it. You take an Everything Shower, plan outfits and send them into the group chat, asking which outfit was the best. You look up hairstyle and makeup inspirations and try to recreate the looks as best as possible. You make sure to eat something just in case a drink or two will be bought later. Truly, nights out with your girls means a day full of self care and the most divine feminine energies and you are loving them.

Sometimes you also take your men with you. Yongsun brings Shiwon, Moonbyul brings whoever she is currently dating and you bring Jungkook. You don’t think that the nights with your men are any less fun, on the contrary, you love having Jungkook with you. 

Tonight is such a night. You put on a tight mini dress and some heels, feeling like it. Jungkook went for some skinny jeans and a shirt which he tugged into them. He matched the colour of his watch to the colour of your clutch. 

Yongsun and Shiwon came matching as well, Moonbyul came solo tonight because her last man dropped her. He was trash, so the loss isn’t big.

You hug and squeal in greeting, then enter the club together. 

The night is amazing. You dance until your feet hurt, share some drinks (except Jungkook and Shiwon because he was the driver), dance some more and talk whenever you find yourselves in a calmer spot. It is exactly how a night out should be and there is nothing that could spoil it.

Or so you thought because some men have nothing else but audacity. Stinking, annoying audacity.

You are on the dance floor with Moonbyul, shaking your booties to an amazing song, when you suddenly feel two hands on your waist. You don’t have to turn around to know that this wasn’t Jungkook touching you. Moonbyul’s instant yell and her hand coming up to slap the guy away is another indicator. You jump away with the first touch, whipping around to yell at the guy.

“Fuck off!”

“Ladies”, he says, lifting his hands in defence, “no need to get emotional, I was just getting a feel of you.”

“You’re gonna get a feel of my fists if you’re not letting off of her”, Moonbyul spits, almost jumping at the guy if you weren’t holding her back. 

Moonbyul has always been a fighter and someone who takes no fucking shit from anyone, especially not from men. She says that it’s the reason why men are too afraid to stay with her to which you always tell her that these men wouldn’t be the right match for her anyways because she is a goddess and they are trash. She accepts it with a smile each time and a little kiss to your cheek. 

The dude she is currently waving her fist at, seems determined to change her mind. 

“Just one dance, alright?”

“No. Leave us alone.” 

“I’ll leave once I danced with you.” 

“You motherfu-”

“Unnie, let’s just go”, you stop her, dragging her away from him. 

He thankfully doesn’t follow you. 

“No, why are you dragging me away? I’ll punch him so hard.”

“That’s why I’m dragging you away. You’re gonna end up with a warning again.”

“He’d deserve it. The fucking audacity. Why do we have to stop having fun and dancing just because he decided? Why do we have to give up our space for him?”

“What’s wrong? What happened?” Hyejin asks, sitting by the bar.

You and Moonbyul explain the situation to her and she rightfully gets angry with you. You all agree that it is unfair that you always have to give up your space when entitled men decide it’s time to invade it. 

In the time you curse the dude, he seems to leave for good. You share a shot then drag Hyejin onto the dance floor with you. It was clean again and Moonbyul a lot calmer. The music still was good and you try to let the incident be in the past. Soon you forget all about it, dancing happily with the other people around you invisible to the three of you. 

Jungkook and the others return from taking an air break outside in the time you are dancing. Yongsun drags Shiwon onto the dance floor while Wheein stays with Jungkook. She often stays close to him during your nights out because he makes her feel safe. Tonight is no different. 

“Want another drink, noona?” he asks her, waving the bartender to them.

“Really?” 

“Of course, what do you want?”

“Maybe just another beer?”

“Alrighty.” 

Jungkook orders for her and orders a coke for himself. He pays and clinks bottles with her. 

“Thank you for paying.”

“Don’t even mention it. Cheers.” 

“Cheers.”

They drink their beverages, moving their bodies to the music slightly and enjoying the view of the dancing people. 

Soon you and Hyejin return to the bar. You seek out Jungkook instantly, hooking your fingers in his belt loops to pull him into a kiss. He smiles, rubbing your lower back. You break the kiss with a goofy giggle, smiling at him.

“I’m so thirsty.”

“Coke?” 

“Yes actually, thank you”, you say and drink from the bottle Jungkook offers. 

Hyejin in the meantime, convinced Wheein to join her on the dance floor.

“Can I keep this with you?” 

“Of course, give me”, you assure her, taking her beer and shielding the opening with your hand. Soon the two women disappear on the dance floor. Jungkook glances at the hand on the bottle. This has never been his instinct to do. He would take any of the girls’ bottles like this, but he never developed the instinct with his own drinks. He thinks it’s insane how different the world is for someone just because they have something different between their legs. 

You seem happy however, using the moment of togetherness to talk to him.

“I think we should go on Saturday because I checked the cinema and on Friday, there are only five seats in the front row left.”

You and Jungkook want to watch a new horror movie in the cinema and can’t decide on the day. You talked about it before meeting with the others.

“Saturday sounds good. It’s less stressful too because we have all day. We could go for dinner afterwards, somewhere nice maybe.”

“Yeah? Then I’ll book the tickets for Saturday.”

“Sounds good to me. And I’ll books us a table. Should we go for sushi?”

“Yes, that’s perfect. I’m so excited.”

“Me too.”

You grin at him, he retorts it. 

“Hey there”, a random guy comes up to you. Jungkook’s face darkens instantly, his alarm bells are ringing. He stays calm for now, wanting to give you a chance to handle it yourself.

You turn to him. His face is unfamiliar to you.

“Hey? I think you’re mistaking me with someone.”

“No, I don’t think I am. I’m Woonyong but you can call me whatever you like. How can I call you? Sexy or maybe mine?”

“Ah yeah no”, you say with a scoff, turning away from the guy.

“Hey, don’t ignore me”, the guy says and tries to turn you back to him by touching your shoulder.

You wriggle out of his touch at the same time as Jungkook tugs the guy’s hand away. He can accept people trying to flirt with you and then pissing off once you told them no, but he draws the line at them getting pushy and touching you.

“Don’t touch her”, he spits and drapes his arm over your shoulder protectively. “She already told you no.”

The guy studies Jungkook and lifts his hands in defeat.

“Dude, I’m sorry I didn’t see you. I thought she was still to take.”

“Well she’s not and even if she was, she’s not something to take. She’s a person not a thing to own.” 

“Chill man, you don’t gotta play white knight just to impress her.”

“I’m not playing anything, I’m being a decent human!” Jungkook yells.

“Chill dude, damn. She’s not gonna want you anyways.”

“Yah asshole, seriously piss off”, you speak up in a dark voice, “I literally said no to you and he’s my husband of five years, you’re just embarrassing yourself at this point.”

The guy gawks for a second then sends Jungkook a poisonous look.

“Fucking simp”, he hisses and leaves.

“I’ll actually punch you, come-”

“Jungkook.” You stand yourself in front of him, calming him down by kissing his lips. “He’s not worth it.”

“He objectified you. He’s worth it.”

“I’m okay, Bunny. I’m okay, thanks to you”, you assure him, kissing his cheek gently. 

“I can’t do this. I’m so angry. How dare he objectify you. You’re a person and, and you’re amazing a-a-and he made you a thing. And he touched you, he fucking touched you eventhough you said no. He is such an asshole, I’m gonna hurt him. I mean it.”

“Fuck him then, I’m alright. Promise.”

He looks at you, both angry and frustrated, but also deeply saddened and defeated.

“Do you wanna go home?” you suggest, rubbing his chest soothingly, “I think this club is kinda trash. I already had someone grope me on the dance floor and now this.”

“What? Who did that?!” 

“I don’t know why I told you that. I’m fine seriously.”

“No, it’s not fine. He has to pay. Who groped you? Show him to me, I’ll rip off his hands.”

“Okay let’s not do that”, you say in a chuckle, rubbing the nape of his neck, “besides, Moonbyul already cursed him.”

“Good”, Jungkook says scanning his eyes over the crowd angrily. 

You shift his eyes to you by cradling his cheek.

“Let’s go home, yeah?” 

He nods his head, huffing out air as he pouts angrily.

“Okay. Let’s just say bye to the others and then leave.”

“If you see the guy, tell me.”

“Okay I will.”

The others bid you goodbye, wishing you a good night. You hand Wheein her beer and tell her that you took the best watch of it, then you leave. 

Jungkook puts his arm around your shoulders, keeping you close to him. You glance at his face. He has his scary look on, dark and serious. You don’t say anything. You simply smile to yourself and drape your arm over his waist. It’s actually so nice to know that you’re safe when he is with you. 

Jungkook drives the car home because you drank one beer and a shot. You don’t feel the effects at all, but you know better than to trust your judgement. People who drank alcohol, should never ever sit down in the driver’s seat of a car. No matter how little they feel the booze. 

Jungkook obviously is sober and uses almost the entire drive home to rant about “assholes like these dudes”. You let him because he seems so worked up about the topic that stopping him is impossible. For the last quarter of the drive, he has finally tired himself out, sharing the ride with you in silence. You appreciate it, watching the familiar streets pass you by.

You don’t get to talk in the elevator because there are other tenants and a few house worker who ride it with you. The first few moments in your penthouse are silent as well. You slip out of your shoes and jackets, where Jungkook helps you hang it up.

“Thank you Bunny.”

“Mhm.”

You glance at him. He has his back turned to you, busy with hanging his own jacket, but he is standing right in front of the mirror so his face was visible to you. He is clearly upset. You let out a deep sigh of defeat and put your clutch on the dresser so you have both hands free. Then you close the distance, calling his attention with a gentle hand on his right shoulder. Jungkook lifts his head and turns, lowering his head instantly when you run your fingers over his undercut. It is as if he leaning into the affection.

“Are you still upset, Bunnybaby?” you ask him.

He nods his head, tightening his features.

“I hate when men treat you like this”, he murmurs, voice shaking. You can’t decide if it’s anger or the first indicator of tears. “You don’t deserve it and, and I feel so helpless because whatever I do won’t make them see their shitty behaviour.”

“I know, baby, I know. It’s so frustrating and I share your feelings.”

He lets out a sound of defeat and nods his head, burying it in the crook of your neck within the next second, arms tightly around you. A whimper leaves him, he practically melts in your embrace.

“You deserve the world, but the world doesn’t deserve you”, he mumbles into you.

You smile, playing with his hair gently.

“You’re the sweetest person, my love. Mhm I gotta squeeze you.” You tighten the hug, shaking him from side to side gently. “I’m squeezing the frustration outta you, Bunnybaby.”

He lets it happen at first, but soon can’t stop himself from giggling. You chuckle, lessening the pressure to ruffle his hair.

“No but seriously, you’re the sweetest person and I’m so grateful for you standing up for me and other women. I know it feels like you aren’t achieving anything, but you are. It only takes one person to be brave enough to stand up and for it to mean that there will be others who follow.”

“You think so?”

“Of course I do. You know, Shiwon was always a good guy but he never really said anything when men were being pigs until you came around and actually stood up for us.”

“But Shiwon always says something to sexists.”

“Yes, because he saw you doing it and realised that he needed to change his ways.”

“Really?” he sounds in disbelief.

“Yes, really.”

“Wow”, he lets out in a breathy whisper, “wow”, his voice is louder and he steps back to lock eyes with you, “wow.”

You give him an adoring smile, cradling his cheeks.

“So keep being yourself and keep standing up for us. You’re helping, even if it feels frustrating to do.”

He shakes his head, “it’s not frustrating to help. It’s frustrating that I even have to help.”

“I know, it really is.”

“But ___, I made someone change his habits.” His face lights up. “I did it.”

“You did it.”

“Oh ___”, he swoops you off your feet and twirls you right here and now.

You laugh, holding onto his shoulders and throwing your head back in delight. He twirls three times then stands still with his arms under your butt and his sparkling eyes gazing up at you. You meet his pretty eyes, caressing his shoulders and neck.

“I will keep protecting you and standing up for you and being someone safe for you until you and every other woman can feel safe as well. The world doesn’t deserve you right now, so I’ll make it be worthy of you. I promise.”

“Oh Jeon Jungkook, you sweetheart of a person. I fucking adore you”, you get out, cupping his face to pull him into a deep kiss.

Once the kiss breaks, Jungkook’s eyes are hazy in love and he can’t stop smiling at you. You mirror his state, running your fingers over his temples and forehead.

“I really adore you, I really do”, you speak softly.

“I adore you too”, he says without hesitation, voice nothing but a whisper.

“I don’t think you understand how much I adore you though. I adore every single star in your galaxy brain, every single inch of your golden heart and every single particle of your perfect soul. I adore the way you think, the words you speak and how gently you voice them. I adore your silly jokes and adore your smile and laughter. I adore how you love so much and so big and so wholeheartedly because you cannot do it any other way. I adore that you are in love with love and that everything you do is done by your gentle, romantic hands. I adore how happy you get for food, how you hum to yourself when you do something, how you fill the room with warmth because you are such a warm presence. I fucking adore the very essence that makes you, Jeon Jungkook, and if I could turn back time, I would do everything the exact same way because I know that it would lead me to you one day.”

“Why are you saying that?” he presses out and instantly bursts into tears, dropping you on the floor gently to hug you as tightly as humanly possible.

“Oh sweetie, gosh, you gentle hearted soul you”, you say softly, hugging him just as tightly.

“You can’t just say that”, he sobs into your neck, making you chuckle and ruffle his hair.

“Goodness, you’re so sweet. Are you okay, Bunnybaby?”

“No”, he whimpers, shaking his head, “I’m so grateful and I wasn’t ready”, he gets out and sobs again.

“I’m sorry, I’ll give you a warning next time”, you joke, eliciting both a laugh and sob from him. He is truly the most endearing and wonderful person to ever exist.

“I’m so grateful. Thank you so much for saying all of this, oh god, I adore you so much. I, I could fill the entire galaxy with it and it still wouldn’t be enough.”

“Oh my Jungkookie.”

You and he fall into a moment of silence where you hug and enjoy each other’s presence. The night might have ended in a messy, frustrating way but does it really matter when at the end of it you and he are still together? Does it really matter that people are awful when you and he have each other? Does it really matter when you can forget all about the outside world in each other’s arms?

The tranquillity of togetherness continues as the night grows older. You change into comfortable clothes and make a 1 AM snack with nothing but the stove light glowing. You eat cuddled up on the couch as you watch an episode of your favourite show and realize that the best part of going out will always be the coming home. You take separate showers for practicality reasons. You downstairs and he upstairs so you and he could be in bed sooner than later. It is already 3 AM by now and Jungkook has to wake up early tomorrow. 

He drops into the pillow, bangs hiding his eyes. You reach out with a soft chuckle, combing them out of his face. You tug them behind his ear, giving his neck a little scratch afterwards. He flutters his lashes, clearly enjoying the touch. 

“My Bunny.”

He smiles with his eyes and holds the open hand you had resting on the sheets. Your fingers intertwine as tightly as possible. You guide your touch to his shoulder and upper arm, drawing little hearts on his clothed skin.

“I think we should stop going out. It’s so nice to stay home”, he says sleepily.

“If we do that, we’ll just end up as cave goblins.”

“That wouldn’t be bad. At least we would have each other and nothing could hurt us.”

“Mhm maybe you’re right, but in the end nothing can really hurt us, can’t it? We have each other.” 

“Yeah”, he breathes and closes the distance, cradling the back of your head. He kisses your forehead then rests his own against it. His eyes fall closed. 

You don’t want to close your eyes, gazing at him. When he is as close to you as right now, you swear that you get soaked in the glow of his sunlight soul until the very colours of your own soul shine brightly. 

“I adore you”, he whispers.

“I adore you too”, you breathe. 

“I’m so tired.”

“Then sleep, you have an early morning anyways. I hate when you get little sleep.”

“I don’t wanna.” 

“Why not?”

“I don’t wanna end this. We are so together.”

“We’ll be together tomorrow too, I promise.” 

“Not like this.” He pulls your closer, furrowing his brows. “Not like this. I won’t feel like this tomorrow.”

“How do you feel?”

“Like my soul is on my skin and I’m basically living in your own soul, like with each touch we share I find new meaning.” 

“Oh Kookie”, you cradle the back of his head and kiss his forehead. 

“Like this”, he gets out, hugging you as his face sinks into the softness of your chest. “It’s like I'm sinking into your essence. My soul feels so safe with you.”

“It is safe with me, my love”, you say softly, petting his hair soothingly.

Jungkook lets out a sound of relief, growing softer in your arms. You know that this means that he is losing his fight with sleep, that your warmth and scent are relaxing him beyond saving. You begin caressing his favourite spot on his head, the one which knocks him out within seconds. 

“___, you can’t ever get hurt”, he gets out in a quiet sigh, exhaling deeply afterwards. His body grows slack. He fell asleep. 

You kiss the crown of his head, keeping your nose buried in his hair afterwards. 

“Sleep tight, my gentle hearted love”, you whisper and close your eyes, drifting off to sleep as gently as a boat drifting away on a calm ocean. 

He says that his soul feels safe with you, unaware that he is the only person your soul ever felt safe enough to fall asleep with.

[b14augrana]

The End Of The World

Alexia isn’t well post-breakup

Alexia Putellas x reader

masterlist

Warnings: angst, mutual breakup, yearning and heartbroken alexia, no happy ending

A/N: listen to the song for max effect! ‘right where you left me’ is another good one that fits this story. this is only a short fic, but i hope you enjoy :)

You and Alexia breaking up was for the best. She knows that.

Her career is demanding, and you just weren’t willing to pursue that lifestyle yet; it was glamorous, being the girlfriend of a professional footballer, but it also meant there were rarely any opportunities to spend quality time with her and that wasn’t the relationship you wanted. She understands that.

So why does it hurt worse than ending on bad terms? Actually, that’s a stupid question. Alexia knows why it hurts. If she had a reason to hate you, it would be easier to move on, but she cannot think of a single thing worth hating you for.

That’s what she hates the most — the lack of cruelty, toxicity, infidelity behind the breakup. There isn’t a single proper reason for her to stop yearning for you.

The first week after the breakup, she finds herself seeking out any signs of you wherever she could. It hurts, and she doesn’t have an excuse or a reason. She swore that your perfume lingered in the air, following her, taunting her. Whenever someone walks past, she notices; everyone smells like oranges, earth, and incense. Everyone smells like you.

On every street, there is something of yours. A mural you posed in front of for a photo, a flower bush you once pointed out on a walk because the budding flora stood out to you, a restaurant you introduced Alexia to without knowing it would quickly become her favourite. She sees apparitions of you in places that you would’ve been in right now, if you were still here. Still with her. Still part of her life.

Everything seems pointless and from the moment you declare the love story of her life to be over, Alexia thinks that everything should cease to exist. Why does the sun shine through the gaps in her curtains, when you aren’t laying beside her in the mornings to compliment it? Why does her heart continue to beat, when it cannot be listened to on sleepless nights, with your head on her chest?

Nobody works up the courage to ask her what’s wrong when she walks into the gym with dull under eyes and little to no energy in her movements. Alexia’s signature enthusiasm to be in the gym and improving herself is gone, and her teammates only look on with inconclusive questions as to why their captain is so… different. She watches them go on with their lives like nothing ever happened, and she’s so offended and bitter. They’re completely unaware that the end is here, at least for Alexia. The world has been at its inevitable end for longer than they know — the world ended when you stopped loving her.

Alexia isn’t one for letters, so it’s incredible that she finds herself sitting at her dining table, hunched over at an ungodly hour, scrawling words in her best handwriting onto a piece of paper.

She seals it in an envelope, running her thumb along the smooth surface for a second. She still knows your address by heart, and despite your house being much like a prison for her in terms of trying to avoid it at all costs, she finds herself navigating streets and turning corners to end up there.

Alexia passes a bookstore, and in the short moment she stands in front of it, she recalls standing in between aisles with you while you chose a book to buy. Clothing shops line the roads, and she can point out shirts in their windows that you own. A restaurant sits on the corner of the street, and she can point out the table you two had eaten breakfast, lunch, and dinner at…

But she can point something else out — you.

You’re there, in the window, sitting at the table in the same seat you always chose. It makes her wonder if those memories were lost on you. Magazine in one hand, tea in the other. She knows it’s tea, because you hate coffee.

Alexia becomes acutely aware of the letter in her hand, and her plans have changed.

When a waitress comes up to your table with a little white envelope in hand, explaining that someone had just come into the restaurant and asked her to give it to you, you’re confused. When you unfold the letter and read it, whatever you’re feeling is inexplicable.

‘Mi querido,

I probably shouldn’t be calling you ‘mi querido’, or writing this letter in the first place, but I’m afraid I won’t be able to live with myself if I don’t tell you how much I love you one more time. I cannot imagine a life where being happy and being without you are able to coexist. If I knew that my career would’ve been the end of us, I would’ve traded my first love for my forever love, in a heartbeat.

Sincerely yours…

Your head lifts and you crane to look out of the window. Streaks of blonde hair disappear down the street, further than you can see from your seat.

…Alexia.’

[jburrgf]

About You I — The Love Trope Series.

“Do you think I have forgotten about you?”

◦pairing: ¡lsu! joe burrow x ¡ex situashionship! reader

◦summary: second change trope, college relationships, slow burn love, right person wrong time.

◦description: you and joe had a thing months before, but the things ended in a bad way. now, you see yourself stuck in something that requires you to be close to him every single day.

◦playlist: About You - The 1975, Love Me Like You Do - Ellie Golding, Like Real People Do - Hoozier, I Bet You Think About Me - Taylor Swift, Called You Again - Lizzy McAlpine, Tolerate It, ImGonnaGetYouBack, Clean - Taylor Swift

PART ONE: CLEAN.

There are certain moments in life that seem impossible to forget. The second I walked onto LSU’s campus, I knew my life was about to change. But not just because of the classes, the social scene, or the crazy football culture.

When I started in LSU, it was supposed to be a clean slate. A chance to focus on my career path and prove to myself that I could thrive in a bigger pond, surrounded by people just as driven as me. Advertising and Public Relations wasn’t just a degree—it was a strategy. A way to blend my creative instincts with a business-minded edge.

What I didn’t expect was LSU’s football program to be the centerpiece of everything.

LSU football wasn’t just a sport. It was culture, identity, and religion rolled into one. By my second semester, I was interning with the athletic department, brainstorming marketing campaigns and filming promos for the team. I was good at what I did—so good that I convinced myself it didn’t bother me when my work bled into my personal life.

Everything started to go wrong when I met him. Tall, blond, American aesthetic, and so, but so kind. That was Joe Burrow, the youngest transferred from Ohio State to the south. New just like me.

Joe was Joe —calm, collected, and infuriatingly charming. He wasn’t flashy like some of the other players, but the air shifted when he walked into a room. Everyone noticed him. And the first time we crossed paths, I did too.

We met my junior year at a party, back when he was just Joe—a talented quarterback with a quiet intensity and a way of looking at you like he could see straight through every mask you’d ever worn. I hadn’t planned on noticing him, but it was impossible not to.

And since then, I'm haunted by his face, his smile, his smell, his body. Every little thing that made him Joe, it was inside my head like a bad song that you can’t stop singing. I didn’t want that, not in the beginning.

And now, I'm running from him like the plague. Every place he might be, I'm not going. Every little encounter or party, or dinner, or what else, I wasn’t going.

It was a party I didn’t want to go to. Maddie had been bothering me for weeks to go to this party, and honestly, I didn't feel like going. Simply no desire.

"I'm serious, Y/N. You work too hard," Maddie, my best friend at LSU, said to me. We had just left one of our classes together, and were walking around the campus, heading towards Maddie's car. "You're missing the entire college experience."

I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose. “I’m here to build my career, not get drunk at frat houses.”

“Even Beyoncé has to relax,” she shot back. “I’m picking you up at eight, tomorro, no excuses. But now, we’re going to Malone’s.”

[…]

I didn’t want to be here.

Malone’s was Maddie’s favorite spot, a college-town bar where everyone gathered on weekends to drink, laugh, and pretend their responsibilities didn’t exist. It was the kind of place where the sticky floors were part of the charm, and you couldn’t walk two feet without bumping into someone you knew. Normally, I’d avoid it like the plague—especially on a night like tonight, when Maddie’s sole mission was to convince me to go to that stupid party tomorrow.

“You’re being dramatic,” Maddie said as I slid into the booth across from her, the sound of the bar’s chatter and faint music drowning out half her words. “It’s just one party. What’s the worst that could happen?”

I rolled my eyes, pulling my coat tighter around me despite the warmth of the bar. “You say that like you don’t know me. I don’t do frat parties, Maddie. I don’t want to spend my Saturday night elbow-to-elbow with drunk people I barely know.”

“That’s the fun of it,” she countered, her grin far too smug for my liking.

“You’re impossible,” I muttered, reaching for the drink she’d already ordered for me.

“I’m persistent,” she corrected. “And don’t think I didn't notice that you didn’t actually say no.”

I groaned, leaning back in the booth. Maddie had been trying to drag me to this party for days, claiming it was some can’t-miss event that would somehow make my life infinitely better. I wasn’t convinced, but I’d stopped arguing because, frankly, I didn’t have the energy.

I was checking on the bar from above my shoulders when It happened.

Joe Burrow.

The last person I ever expected to see here, especially tonight.

My chest tightened the moment I spotted him standing by the dartboard, his tall frame impossible to miss, his blond hair was slightly disheveled, and the faint scruff on his jaw made him look older than he had when we’d last spoken. Joe was dressed casually, jeans and a hoodie, looking like he didn’t have a care in the world, and was laughing at something one of his friends said, the sound cutting through the low hum of the bar like a knife.It wasn’t just the way he carried himself or the fact that he was Joe Burrow—LSU’s star quarterback—but the way my body reacted, as if it had its own memory of him.

I hadn’t seen him in months—not since we’d ended things without really ending them. And now, seeing him here, so casually present in my space, felt like a slap to the face. Work Out from J Cole was playing, and everything felt like a movie scene.

It wasn’t like we had history. At least not in the way most people assumed. We barely knew each other. But there had been that one night at a party a while back, and another one after a game, and another one at our friends house, and another one… and the tension between us had never fully died down. I could still remember the way his eyes had felt on me, like he was measuring me in some silent way I didn’t know how to interpret.

“Y/N.” Maddie’s voice snapped me out of my daze. She followed my line of sight and groaned. “Oh no.”

I shook my head, panic setting in. “I can’t do this.”

“You don’t even know if he saw you.”

“I’m not sticking around to find out,” I said, already sliding out of the booth.

“Y/N—”

But I was gone, weaving through the crowd toward the back hallway where the bathrooms were. I needed to breathe, to get away from the overwhelming weight of his presence.

The bathroom at Malone’s was about as glamorous as you’d expect—a narrow space with flickering fluorescent lights and graffiti scrawled across the stalls. I locked myself in one of the stalls, leaning back against the door as I tried to steady my breathing.

Of all the places to run into Joe, it had to be here.

It wasn’t like I hadn’t thought about him. I had—more than I cared to admit. But thinking about him was one thing. Seeing him, knowing he was just a few feet away, was something else entirely.

I couldn’t face him. Not now, not here.

The bathroom was quiet, the kind of eerie stillness that felt out of place in the chaos of Malone’s. I leaned against the sink, staring at my reflection in the smudged mirror.

“Get it together,” I whispered to myself, taking a deep breath.

I didn’t even know why I was reacting like this. It wasn’t like we were still together. We weren’t anything anymore. And yet, the sight of him had thrown me completely off balance, dredging up feelings I thought I’d buried a long time ago.

But I couldn’t stay in the bathroom forever, either.

I opened the bathroom door and nearly walked straight into him.

Joe was leaning against the wall opposite the bathroom, his arms crossed over his chest and his gaze fixed squarely on me.

I froze, my heart hammering in my chest.

“Y/N,” he said, his voice low and steady, a hint of amusement curling at the edges.

Nope.

Without a second thought, I ducked back into the bathroom, slamming the door shut behind me. My cheeks burned with embarrassment, and I bit my lip to keep from screaming. What the hell was I supposed to do now?

I paced the small space, my mind racing. He’d seen me, which meant he was waiting for me. I couldn’t hide in here forever, but the thought of facing him felt impossible.

Eventually, I forced myself to take a deep breath and opened the door again.

Joe was gone.

Relief flooded through me as I stepped out into the hallway, my eyes scanning the crowd for any sign of him. But instead of Joe, my attention was drawn to a small slip of paper pinned to the corkboard on the wall next to the bathroom.

It wasn’t there before.

Curious, I stepped closer and pulled it free. The handwriting was unmistakable—slanted and bold, with a certain sharpness to the letters that felt uniquely him.

“Go to the party tomorrow. Please.”

I stared at the note, my heart pounding for an entirely different reason now.

My fingers tightened around the paper as Maddie appeared at the end of the hallway, her eyes wide with curiosity.

“What’s that?” she asked, gesturing to the note.

“Nothing,” I said quickly, shoving it into my pocket.

She raised an eyebrow but didn’t push. “Ready to head back? I don’t think Joe’s here anymore.”

I nodded, though my mind was miles away.

Maybe tomorrow. Maybe I would go. Maybe I wouldn’t.

But one thing was for sure: Joe Burrow had just made sure I wouldn’t forget this night.

——————————————

part 2: About You II (The Love Trope Series) — All Over Me.

hey guys! this is the beginning of my Love Tropes Series. The first part, About You, it’s going to be launched in four parts! stay tuned :)

[insidekatmind]

The End~Jude Bellingham x reader (feat.Jonathan Daviss)

You’re sitting on the bed, your hands trembling as you clutch your phone. Jude is across the room, his face locked in an expression you barely recognize. The love that once united you feels like a distant memory, suffocated by glittering nights, applause, and trophies.

“I can’t do this anymore,” you whisper, your voice breaking as you try to hold back the tears threatening to spill.

Jude runs a hand through his hair, his gaze evasive. “What do you want from me? I’m doing my best!”

“Your best?” you repeat, incredulous. “You don’t even look at me the way you used to. All that matters to you now is football, Real Madrid, your image. I... I don’t exist in your life anymore.”

He scoffs, as if your words are a burden. “That’s not true. But you don’t understand the pressure I’m under. I have responsibilities.”

“And me?” your voice rises, pain spilling out. “Don’t I matter? When was the last time you asked me how I was? When did you actually listen to how I felt?”

Jude stays silent, and that silence speaks louder than any words could. There’s nothing left to say. You stand, gathering your things with shaky hands.

“Goodbye, Jude,” you say, your voice breaking. You expect him to stop you, to say something, anything. But he doesn’t.

---

Six months have passed. You’ve changed. You’re no longer the insecure girl who needed approval. Now, you’re a singer the world is beginning to notice. The success of your latest single, Older, has catapulted you into the spotlight, and the lyrics are a gut punch to anyone who knows how to read between the lines.

“All I needed was someone who truly saw me, someone who treated me the way I deserved. Were you ever really that person?”

The song is everywhere. Jude can’t avoid it, no matter how hard he tries. Every time he turns on the radio, he hears your voice, each word a dagger to his chest. But what’s eating him even more are your social media posts.

In one of your latest photos, you’re with Jonathan Daviss, the actor from Outer Banks. The two of you are close, his smile radiant, his hand casually placed on your waist—a proximity that seems too natural to be accidental. And the caption doesn’t help.

“A man who knows how to treat a woman. 🌹”

Jude sees the photo, and it sets his blood boiling. Jonathan.He can’t get him out of his head.

“I can’t stand it,” he mutters to Vinicius, sitting next to him during practice.

“Who?” Vinicius asks with a smirk. “Ah, you mean your ex? I saw the photo. Nice shot, don’t you think?”

Jude shoots him a glare that could kill.

---

You’re at an event, a music awards ceremony. You’re wearing an elegant black dress that hugs every curve with class and grace. Jonathan is by your side, his arm casually draped across your back. You’re there to accept an award for your song, and the entire room is watching you with admiration.

But among all the eyes on you, there’s one gaze you feel the most. Jude is there. He wasn’t invited, but someone brought him as a special guest. You notice him immediately: he looks flawless, but there’s something in his eyes that makes you feel vulnerable.

After the ceremony, as you make your way to the bar, you find him there. He’s leaning against the counter, a glass of something amber in his hand. You approach him, not because you want to, but because you feel like you have no other choice.

“Congratulations,” he says, his voice lower than you remember. “Your song... It’s powerful.”

“Thanks,” you reply coldly, trying to maintain your composure.

Jude looks at you intensely, the pain evident in his eyes. “It’s about me, isn’t it?”

You smile, but it’s a bitter smile. “If you think it’s about you, maybe you should ask yourself why.”

He takes a step closer, lowering his voice. “I know I messed up. I know I lost you because I was... blind, stupid. But I can’t stop thinking about you.”

“This isn’t the time for those words, Jude,” you cut him off, searching for Jonathan in the crowd.

But Jude doesn’t back down. “He doesn’t know you like I do. He doesn’t love you like I do.”

“And how would you know?” you challenge, feeling anger rising. “Jonathan treats me like a queen. Something you never did.”

Jude stays silent for a moment, then takes a deep breath. “Maybe you’re right. But I can’t accept it. I can’t accept that it’s over between us.”

His words hit you, but you’re unsure of what you feel. All you know is that you’ve changed, and maybe, just maybe, you no longer want to be the girl who needs saving. Perhaps this time, it’s up to you to decide what you really want.

[artists-ally]

{Fake It Like You Love Me} Azriel x Reader x Xaden Riorson x Cassian

*slowly creeps up from the depths of hell* Heeeeeeeey, glad you guys remember I still exist 😭😭 First off, THANK YOU for 600 followers. That's insane and I don't deserve you all so thank you so fucking much. SECONDDDD, here is another part of my Fuck Away The Pain series!! Sorry this has taken me so long to do, but I think you for your patience. As always, let me know what you think and feel free to drop a request if you have any!!! Enjoy! Title and series inspired by this song.

Part 1: {Show Me Where It Hurts} Part 2: {Dirty Little Curse} these do not need to be read in order to be enjoyed!

Word Count: 7,630

Warnings: Smut. Like... an alarming amount of smut. ACOTAR x FOURTH WING, Dom/Sub, MMMF, use of the nicknames "pet" and "sir", oral (M and F receiving), pet play, degrading, praise kink, choking, spanking, cum eating, unprotected sex.

Tagging: @lees-chaotic-brain @thelov3lybookworm @needylilgal022 @librafairy @cyrygher @agent-anna @blessthepizzaman @bubybubsters @highladyofterrasen7 @annabethgranger123 @acourtofbatboydreams @thatacotargirl @berryzxx @throneofsmut

Summary: It is just after the legendary snowball fight. Azriel, Cassian, Rhys and Xaden are in the sauna while you, Mor, and Feyre are inside the cabin. Once Rhys leaves, it seems that there is a vacant spot that needs to be filled.

~~~~~

“So, explain this to me again?”

“Every year, they have a snowball fight. They just keep going and going and going until there’s a winner,” Feyre explains. “This is the first time you and Xaden are here so I think they’re taking it easy.”

From off to the side of the cabin, we hear a shout and then a chorus of laughter. 

“Maybe not,” Mor says, peeking out the window. “Cassian just decked Riorson in the face.”

I giggled, sipping my warm tea and curling my legs under myself. “Probably made fun of Cassian’s hair or something. Called him a wet dog.”

“You know damn well that animal will come in here and shake like one too.”

“And after the sauna? Yuck, it’s going to smell for ages in here,” Mor shakes her head.

“The sauna?”

Both of them stop dead in their tracks, exchanging a knowing glance. Feyre looks at me with a twisted smirk. “You don’t know about the sauna?”

“Should I be afraid?” 

“Definitely,” Mor grins, setting down her cup. “After they get done, they all go into the sauna together.”

“Naked?” I dare to ask.

“Terribly so,” Feyre adds. “A few years ago, on my first trip to the cabin, I got Rhys kicked out because… well, he just couldn’t stop thinking of me.”

I damn near choked. Then I burst out laughing. I can imagine it. Rhys, Azriel and Cassian sitting in the sauna together. It must be some sort of rule they have. If one of them gets a little too hot and bothered, they’re out. But the thought of them all in there, Azriel and Xaden sweating… does some pretty magical things to my brain.

And the space between my thighs.

“Gods you are just as bad as they are, Yn,” Mor fake gags, coming to sit next to me. “Don’t get too excited. None of us have ever been in, and none of us ever will.”

“Really? That’s kind of shocking, honestly.” There hasn’t been one exception? “I know Cassian is a bit of a…”

“Male whore?” Mor fills in the blank. It makes me giggle. 

“I don’t quite know everyone well enough to make those assumptions, but Cassian definitely gives off a certain… aura.”

“Oh please, he’d take it as a compliment,” Mor smiles, playing with some of my loose hair. “But no, not even him. Now, what I cannot believe is how you ended up with both Az and Riorson. That is truly a work of art.”

I can’t help the smile that blooms onto my face. “Some are just more blessed than others.”

Feyre barks a laugh, “I’ll say. You got lucky with those two, you know.”

“I know. We’re not like– together together, but they take very good care of me. I honestly kind of like it. It's all the best parts of a relationship without having to worry about if everyone is getting enough attention. They give me what I need, and I give them what they need.”

“Have you ever asked for more? To be in a real relationship?” Mor asks, curiosity getting the best of her. Feyre smacks her in the shoulder. “Ow!”

“Don’t be insensitive,” the High Lady reprimands. 

“Don’t be silly,” I wave them off. “I’ve thought about it, but I don’t think that’s what I want. Sure, being in love is great and all, but why complicate it? We work flawlessly together right now, why change? If either of them brings it up, I’ll be open to the idea. But for right now I’m thriving. They are far too generous anyway. They constantly bring me gifts or invite me out to dinner. They’re doing enough for me. Far more than enough.” “Not to mention the world's best sex,” Mor wiggled her eyebrows at me. “What’s it like with the two of them? Are the rumors of the Illyrian true? What about Xaden, is he packing too? Gods I bet he is, isn’t he? Now, I am the last Fae in Prythian who’d want to be taken by two males, but… for the both of them? I might reconsider. Tell me, does Az-”

“Cauldron boil me,” Feyre sighs. “I’m getting a drink.”

“Ooh! Will you bring me-”

“No,” Feyre scolds, heading into the kitchen.

“Crony bitch.”

“I heard that!” Feyre shouts from the other room. 

Mor and I share a laugh, snuggling in close together. “This is so fun.”

“Isn’t it?” Mor says, “You’re always welcome back, Yn. I’m not sure I’ve ever seen Az so relaxed. He looks… happy. And I can’t vouch for Riorson but he looks like he needs this too.”

“Yeah it’s been a stressful couple weeks for Xaden. There was a huge issue in his homeland and he nearly lost his life. His dragon is bonded to someone else in his squad, and her dragon almost died. It was scary. I’m just glad he’s okay. On the flight up here he was giving me all his strategies on how he was going to win.” There’s a loud cackle from outside and the sound of bodies running into each other. I looked over the back of the couch, seeing Xaden at the bottom of the pile, snow being shoveled into his face. “Guess they didn’t work so well.”

“They’re probably done now,” Mor explains.

“Sauna time?”

“Sauna time.”

The door opens and the four males clamber in, shaking snow from their hair and clothes. 

“I’m gonna get you back for that Rhys,” Xaden grins, evil intent behind those onyx eyes. 

“I’d like to see you try. Hey Mor, hi Yn. Where’s Feyre?” Rhys pats the top of Mor’s head, offering me a kind smile. 

“In the kitchen!” She calls, the High Lord following the sound of her voice. 

Cassian makes a b-line for the couch, shaking his head like a mutt. Mor squeals, I just shut my eyes and take the damage. When I open them, he snickers and sits on the floor, sighing loudly. “And that makes 181 wins for yours truly.”

“Then he must have cheated,” Mor gags, wiping off Cassian’s grime with the bottom of her shirt. “For fucks sake Cass you stink.”

“I’m a hard working male,” he begs to differ.

“Only thing you’re working is gonna be my foot in your ass,” Mor chides, standing up. “I’m going to shower, I smell like a dog.”

“You wish you smelled as good as me. Sorry to catch you in the crossfire, Yn.”

“It’s all good,” I smile, rubbing the few drops I got off on my sleeve. 

But the look on Xaden’s face when he comes to sit next to me reflects anything but. He’s got a scowl directed at Cassian, but he makes quick work of masking it, planting a kiss on my cheek. A moment later, Azriel does the same thing. 

“Should you be sitting on the couch?” I ask. Xaden’s hair a soaking wet mess, his clothes more the same. 

“Trust me,” Azriel chimes in, “There have been far worse things on this couch.”

I blink at him, wondering if I would need to burn my clothes after this. He plops down next to me, slinging an arm over the back of the couch behind my shoulders. 

Cassian looks between all three of us. Clearly seeing the size difference and taking notes about it. “I should probably keep my mouth shut.”

“That would be wise, brother,” Azriel grumbles, stretching out his legs. “Where's Rhys? Im fucking freezing and I wanna go in the sauna.”

“He’s in the kitchen with Feyre,” Mor said, rounding the corner from the washroom. She clearly didn’t shower, but she smelled much better. “And we all know what happened the last time the two of them were left alone here.”

“What happened?” Xaden and I asked at the same time. 

“Nothing,” Azriel, Cassian and Mor responded in unison. 

The dragon rider and I shared a look, a silent promise to ask Az about it later. We had a nice evening planned, dinner with everyone, and then they were going to let Az, Xaden and I spend the night in the cabin. We’ve never been here before today so it was a generous offer. I can tell how much this place means to all of them. 

No one needs a vivid imagination to get an idea of what’s going to happen later. 

“Fuck him,” Cassian pushes to his feet, binding his hair back with a strip of leather. “Come on, let's get started. He can decide later if he wants to join.”

Cassian and Xaden head out the door, but Az stays seated next to me. “Having fun?”

“Of course,” I reassured, patting his thigh. “Mor and Feyre are very kind. And this is a lovely cabin.”

“Good, I’m glad.”

“Looks like you two had a lot of fun,” I smile, resting my cheek on his damp shoulder. “You smell far better than Cassian.”

“Naturally,” Az smirked. “And yes we did. Xaden needed it, you needed it. It’s always just been the three of us every year, but it felt right to have Xaden here in the mix. You too, obviously.”

“Glad I could make the cut,” I joked, receiving a pinch on my ear. 

“Brat.”

“That’s not even close to me being a brat and you know it.” “Don’t I ever,” he grinned, covering my mouth with his. Despite the chill coming from his body, his lips were warm and soft. Full of life, vibrance, and need. “By the sound of it, Rhys won’t be joining us in the sauna. We won’t be in there long, will you bring us some towels around four?”

I looked at the analog on the wall, the hands reading 3:22pm. I nodded, “Sure.”

He curled my hair around his fingers before standing, following the other two outside. 

In the meantime, I hung out with Mor and we talked about random stuff. She tried to get more details about Az and Xaden, but I wasn’t willing to give them up. We played a few card games, had a snack and a glass of wine before she winnowed off the mountain and back to Velaris to meet some friends at Rita’s. 

Just as I was curling up with a book, I felt a cool whisper circle my wrist. A strand of Azriel’s shadow wrapped around and around in a never ending bracelet. I smiled, looking at the clock. Just seven past four. I head for the closet, grabbing three thick, soft tan towels. 

Damn, it's cold out here. How do they not freeze to death? I carefully step in their footsteps so my toes don’t get frozen off. There is a little stone path to the sauna and I gladly jump from stone to stone. With the towels under my arm, I knock on the door. 

“I brought your towels, they’ll be out here on this chest,” I shouted, unsure if they’d be able to hear me through the thick wood paneling. There was a small jut out from the roof over the door, ensuring they wouldn’t get covered with snow.

“Will you bring them in?” Xaden calls.

I skidded to a halt, damn near knocking myself over. Did he just say what I think he said? “I thought no females were allowed in the sauna?” 

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Cassian’s voice boomed. “We just need the towels so our bits don’t freeze off. You can close your eyes if you’re scared.”

Scared? I wasn’t scared, but I didn’t particularly care to see Cassian sprawled out with all his glory on display. Well, okay that's a complete lie. Ever since I first saw the Lord of Bloodshed, I thought he was… well… hot. He’s tall, all thick muscle and confidence. He knows he’s hot shit. I’d imagine if he were a closer friend that confidence might piss me off, but I think he’s funny. He knows what he’s got and he’s not afraid to show it. 

“Are you going to bring them or not?” Xaden shouts.

Oh. Right. The towels. 

I take a steadying breath and push open the door. A wave of humid, damp air blasts me in the face, instantly melting the flecks of snow on my hair and lashes. There isn’t a light save for a few windows to let some ventilation in. It's dark, but I can make out the three figures. Azriel and Xaden are to the left, and Cassian is to the right. 

I keep my eyes on my boys and place towels in Xadens open arms. “Thank you, my dear.”

“Of course,” I smile, carefully avoiding any glimpses of Cassian in my peripherals. Just before I can reach the safety of the outdoors, Azriel’s hand wraps around my wrist, gently tugging me in front of him. His other hand curls around my hip, pinning me still. “Yes, my shadow?”

He all but purrs at the nickname. “Stay.”

Stay. Stay? As in… in here? With him and Xaden and Cassian? “You guys enjoy your time together.”

I tried to take another step, but he sat up, gripping my body to keep it positioned between his powerful legs. I trailed my eyes down his torso, seeing a bit of a surprise waiting for me. “I told you to stay.”

Heat flooded my body, a different heat than the one coursing through the sauna. I quickly glance at Xaden to see him exchanging a glance with Cassian across the way.

“I- I wouldn’t want to kick Cassian out just because you want me, Az. That’s rude,” I say, my breath hitching when he slides his hands under my thick wool sweater. He rakes his nails down my back and I momentarily forget that there is a third set of eyes watching. 

“I don’t think Cassian would mind the show, would you, Cass?” Azriel looks around my torso at the Illyrian, and I have to force myself not to do the same. 

There isn’t a verbal response from him. 

Az roughly grips my hips, forcing me to sit down in his lap. His mouth attaches to mine before I can make a sound. I flinch momentarily when he bites down on my lip, his pace fast and aggressive. The sauna is silent save for the sound of our lips meeting. 

Sweat begins to swell around my hairline, trickling down the back of my neck. He removes my sweater and tosses it towards the open door. I wasn’t wearing a bra, and the hot air coats my bare back. Azriel breaks the kiss, latching onto my neck and collar bone. 

“Az,” I say, already breathless. “Wh-What are you doing?”

“Are you telling me that you’ve never thought about Cassian before?”

Shit. SHIT.

“I- well I didn’t- not in the way you think I would’ve I was just-”

“That certainly didn’t sound like a no, Yn,” Azriel looks up at me, a knowing glint in his eye. “Did you think I wouldn’t notice?”

“I- I didn’t think… I would’ve never thought that-”

“You have five seconds to tell me to stop. One.”

“Azriel I-”

“Two.” He pushes me back to my feet. 

My knees buckle and it’s an effort to keep myself upright in the sweltering humidity. “Why would I have thought that you and Xaden would want-”

“Three.” He stands, towering over me.

I huff in annoyance. “Azriel, stop counting-”

“Four.” Az makes me take two steps back, advancing on me.

“Xaden will you please fucking-”

“Five.” His fingers wrap around my throat and push me back. Directly into Cassian. A second set of hands find their way onto my body. Cassian grips my hips, keeping me from falling. I am deathly still. I hardly breathe. I don’t dare make a noise. “You’d like it if Cassian joined, wouldn’t you?”

I don’t respond. 

“She looks petrified,” Xaden points out very matter-of-factly. 

“I like it when she’s scared, she obeys when she is. Isn’t that right pet?” 

One word. One stupid nickname and I’m under his spell. Fuck, of course I want Cassian to join. I haven’t ever seen him without clothes, but he doesn’t leave much to the imagination. “I- I umm-”

“Just admit it and I’ll let you go,” Azriel demands, tightening his fingers for emphasis. It’s nowhere near a dangerous amount, but it makes my breath hitch.

“Yes yes,” I rush out, senses on fire. 

“Yes what, pet? Come on, you know the rules. If you want Cass to join you have to tell him.”

Azriel releases me, and if it weren’t for Cassian holding me up, I would’ve keeled over. The combination of the restricted airflow and the density of the heat in the sauna was going to make a lethal combo. 

And I craved it. 

I quickly slipped under, fully ready to play with the three of them. I gently turn and look down at Cassian. His bronze skin is shining with sweat, hair still bound behind his head. I take a deep breath, swallowing. “Would you like to play with us, Cassian?”

His eyes dilate, tongue darting out of his mouth to wet his lips. “I thought you’d never ask, darling.”

Relief floods me and I smile. I am so thrilled he said yes. I look over at Az and Xaden, waiting for their command. I desperately need them to tell me what to do. This is already so overwhelming in the best way possible. 

“Why don’t you be a good girl and welcome Cassian, okay?”

I don’t need to be told twice. Like he knows what I was thinking, his knees spread apart, inviting me in. I sink down to the floor and stare up at him through my wet lashes. “Messy or clean?”

A grin spreads across the Illyrians mouth. “Oh, she’s good. Messy, darling. I want to see you ruined.”

Cassian’s finger separated my lips and I sucked on his thumb. He pressed down on my tongue, and I swirled it around his digit. Meanwhile, his other hand fisted himself, and I couldn’t help but take a glance. 

Cauldron boil me alive–

I delicately reach a hand out and replace mine with his. The warrior's head falls back and he shuts his eyes. My hand is so much smaller than… well, every part of him. I stroke up and down, gently thumbing the small slit at the tip. A few drops slide down onto my finger and I generously lick them off. He definitely tastes similar to Az, but nothing like Xaden. 

The moment my tongue circles him, he cuts loose a moan deep from his chest. 

“Fuck you’re so warm,” Cassian lifts his head, taking in the sight of me taking him in. I swallow around him, drawing more sounds out of him. 

“I think what makes it so good is she loves doing it. Don’t you, Yn? You love being stuffed full,” Azriel comes up behind me, his presence stealing my breath away. Maybe it’s the added heat that makes my head dizzy. “That’s right, work him all the way down. Get him nice and deep.”

I push and push my head all the way down his cock, taking a moment to stay still, just emphasizing exactly what I can do. Cassian laughs at me, full on laughs. A mocking sort of sound that spreads goosebumps all across my skin. He bucks his hips, really testing how far he can push me. 

“Oh, she’s good,” he grunts, head tipping back again. “Keep that perfect mouth moving, darling.”

My ears are ringing a little. Whether that be from the heat or the sheer overstimulation, it’s hard to tell, but I didn’t react right away. The next thing I knew, one of Azriel’s hands was fisting my hair, the other braced at the back of my head. I nearly choked when I was ripped away and then slammed down onto his cock a few times. 

“You heard him, Yn. Take his cock like the good slut you are,” Azriel reprimanded. He continued to overpower me, making me work up and down on Cassian. I let my jaw go slack, along with my hands braced on Cassian’s thighs. I let out a content sigh as I was fucked on Cassian’s cock. 

I rocked with Azriels movements. His grip singed my scalp and an ache formed in my jaw. It was familiar, ignorable, but present nonetheless. I was glad to have them doing all the work, it was far too hot in here to think clearly… even without the added exertion.

When Az decided I got the memo, he let go of my head and I continued the motions with steady practice. I closed my eyes, feeling every drop of sweat on my body. My thick, fleece lined leggings were beginning to soak through. Xaden’s calloused hands found their way to my waste and began to slide them off. With a pop, I pulled off of Cassian, giving my jaw a much needed break. Xaden peeled them from my legs, taking my underwear with them. But, before he let me sit back down, he laid down on his back, beckoning me to ease on top of him. 

“Surely you’ll suffocate, it’s already unbearably hot in here,” I huff, catching my breath. 

“Then I shall go doing what I love most,” the dragon rider replies. “Sit.”

I looked to Az, silently asking if this really was a smart decision. He just gave me a pointed nod with narrow eyes, a promise that if I didn’t listen he’d make working for my release miserable. So I obeyed without a second thought. 

The moment his tongue curled into me, I sighed. Aimlessly, my hand worked tentatively up and down Cassian’s shaft, drawing a few sounds out of the General. “Let me fuck your throat, darling.”

There must’ve been a sparkle in my eye because I grinned, opening wide for him to do so. His length was thick. Almost too thick. And long. Fucks sake everything about him was big. I was up for the challenge. As it hit the back of my throat, I relaxed, letting his hands fall around my ears. It was gentle at first, his thrusts long and even. I moaned in tandem with the licks I was receiving from Xaden, my mind a melted, scrambled mess of ecstasy. With a particularly hard suck on my clit, I jerked the opposite way Cassian was going.

“Ah ah ah,” he chided, clicking his tongue. “You don’t get to run away from me. Take what you’ve been given. Be a good fucking girl, Yn.”

I glance up at him, throat too full to make any noise. A third set of hands– Azriels, so experienced and commanding, settled on my breasts, plucking and pulling. I could feel everything and nothing at the same time. My entire body was numb with pleasure, numb with exploration of the three of them. 

Azriel. Xaden. Cassian. All three of them, the most powerful warriors of their respective worlds, all focused on one thing. One goal. 

Me. 

Cassian picked up his pace, the thrusts less deep, but far more firm. It was clear he was chasing his high, thick veins beginning to bulge in his arms… up his chest… in the column of his throat. 

“She does such a good job at taking it,” Cassian praises. “Doesn’t gag, doesn’t complain. Look at all those pretty tears. All for me, darling? Do I fuck you so good you need to cry? It’s okay, I’ll lick them clean. Then make them spill down your neck again when I get to fuck your pussy.”

My heart thrashed in my chest, thighs shaking with the force of Xaden’s tongue against my core. I writhed my hips, breathing harshly through my nose every other thrust because that’s all Cass would allow. At some point Azriel’s hands left the mix. I couldn’t see him anywhere, but his presence remained. Those shadows replacing his skilled fingers. 

My body was wound tight. I was already anticipating a fun night with just Azriel and Xaden. But now? With Cassian? A new fire had been set ablaze inside me. And it needed– no, demanded, to be let out. I tried to warn Xaden, I tried to ask for permission, but I couldn’t with Cassian’s grip on my head. I fiercely moaned, hips shaking so badly that Xaden had to lock me in place. 

“You can let go,” Azriel commanded from somewhere behind me. I silently thanked him. 

Like a crack of lightning, my release barreled through me. I came so hard my vision whited out, a faint ringing bounding between my ears. Moans of pure pleasure spilled out of me and right onto Cassian. The extra vibrations must’ve done wonders from him because his grip faltered, as well as his pace. His head slumped forward and his eyes rolled shut. 

“Fuuuuck, whatever you’re doing to her, Riorson, you better not fucking stop. Keep her moaning like that. Fuck I’m gonna cum so hard. Want it, pretty pet? Want my cum down your throat, filling your belly?”

He released my head, bidding me to give a verbal answer. After what Xaden just did to me, I’m not sure that’s physically possible. “P-Please, sir” I sigh out, my voice in an atrocious state already. “Wanna make you feel so so good.”

The use of ‘sir’ must’ve really done something to him. He sat up, a corrupt, unforgiving smile creeping onto his cruel lips. “Sir? That’s a dangerous game, my darling.”

“She doesn’t mind a little bit of danger, does she?” Azriel grips my hair again, pulling my head back so I have to look up at him. I nod carefully, the strain in my neck almost too much. “Yes she does. Now get to it, I'm getting impatient.”

Bad things happen when Azriel is left uncared for. And who was I to make him suffer?

I stuck out my tongue, a silent beg for Cassian to slip back in. He did without further coercion. The first time my nose brushed the soft hair on his pelvis, I could’ve sworn it was an accident. The second time, I realized it wasn’t. I couldn’t breathe, a small panic settling in every crevice of my body. I tried to keep calm, but between a relentless Xaden under me and a ruthless Cassian in front, it was near impossible. 

“F-Fuck fuck fuck fuuuucccckkkk,” Cassian shouted, the muscles in his thighs and abdomen flexing. “Gonna take it all? It’s gonna be a lot, can you handle it, darling? Yeah I think you can. I’ll make you either way. Stay niiiiice and still for me- oh fuck-”

At the last second, he pulls me off about an inch and the humid, sweat filled scent of air floods into my nose. I drink his release down. It’s thick and warm, salty and abundant. I hum around him as I swallow and swallow and swallow. My eyes fill with tears yet again and they escape down my cheeks. 

Cassian shudders. With gentle laps of my tongue, I clean him up. He watches me attentively. I can’t help the smile that forms on my lips when our eyes meet. 

“You…” he breathes heavily, chest swelling and falling. “You are a little devil, aren’t you?”

The Illyrians hand wraps around my throat and he pulls me to my feet, and off of Xaden. The way our tongues met could’ve moved mountains. He was not shy in showing how much he wanted me. I melted into him, straddling his thigh and letting my arms drop to my sides. 

Azriel played with my hair, hands caressing my ass. Together, they brought me down, content to let me relax for a few minutes. 

“You did so well, pet,” Azriel cooed, dragging his tongue over the shell of my ear.

“So fucking good,” Cassian murmured against my lips. “Such a good little girl.”

I could hear Xaden climb to his feet, the sound of his hand stroking his cock loud in the otherwise quiet room. “I will never, ever, get tired of making her cum on my tongue.”

“Should I have a taste?” Cassian asked, placing small bites on my throat. 

“I actually had something else in mind,” I sighed out, getting lost in all the hands and tongues. He gave me a curious look, but I just smirked, easing onto shaking legs and turning around so my ass was in Cassian’s lap. “I want to play a game.”

“A game?” There is an obvious hint of danger in Cassian’s voice? “What kind of game?”

“I want you and Xaden to fuck me, and I want Azriel to tell you when to move and when to stop.”

I haven’t yet brought it up to Azriel and Xaden, but I’ve always wanted to do this. A game of red light green light. To give full control and power to him, making us work for our pleasure. I look at Azriel, gauging his response, but he just grabs my chin, bringing our faces level. 

“Yeah? You wanna play a game? Want to be treated like a literal pet? Taking commands and performing tricks?” His voice is thick with desire, so low only we could hear it. 

My heart skips a beat. I hadn’t thought about it like that before. But the idea is… it’s-

“Look at her face, Cass,” Xaden tilts his head mockingly. “She wants it so bad, don’t you, pretty girl? Would you like a collar, that way if you get lost they know who you fucking belong to? Gods she’s so red. Don’t be embarrassed, pet. We know just how much you love being fucked full of cock and cum.”

“Sit on his dick, Yn,” Azriel orders. “Now.”

Silently, I hover over his lap, letting Cassian guide my hips. At the first press of his tip, I gasp. A new thrill thrummed through me. 

Azriel comes and stands in front of me, cupping my cheeks. “I know he’s big, but you’re gonna take all of him. And you’re going to like it because you asked for it. So, here’s your first trick. Sit.” 

The Shadowsinger pushes on my shoulders, leaving no option but to take Cassian all the way. All. The. Way. My breath is lodged in my chest with no room to escape. I can’t think. Can’t hear. Can’t see. Can’t even begin to process what is about to happen. 

“Oh, good girl Yn,” Xaden praises, still stroking himself. “Look at how pretty she looks, Az.”

Cassian grunts behind me, hooking my legs over his knees so the others can see him buried inside me. I cry out at the shift, feeling him go deeper and deeper. Gods, he feels like he’s everywhere.

“Cassian, why don’t you play with her nipples,” Azriel instructs, walking back and forth in front of us. “Xaden, give her something to suck on.”

“With pleasure,” Xaden grins, those onyx eyes narrowing on my mouth. I go to protests, but then I realize just how hard he is. How flushed his skin is. And I need to taste it, to relieve him of his torture. 

He traces my lips with the tip, coating them in his slick. With a heady pant, I stick out my tongue to invite him in. 

A hand cracks down on my thigh. I scream out, more in shock than in actual pain. Azriel’s hand was the culprit. 

“Did I say you were allowed to taste it yet?” His eyes are swirling with lethality. I bite my tongue to keep myself from saying something stupid. “Well?”

“N-No,” I say meekly. “I’m sorry. May I taste it, Az? Can I please taste Xaden?”

After a minute of letting the question hang in the air, building suspense, he nods. Greedily, I take Xadens hips and bring his cock towards my mouth. 

It’s such a glorious sound to hear when Xaden curses low. A deep rumble in his chest letting me know this is exactly what he needed. Without moving– fearful I’ll get another smack– I look at Az, awaiting my next instruction. 

“Fuck her throat, Xaden,” Az says, eyes scanning out bodies. “Start fucking her nice and slow Cassian. Really savor her, make her moan just like Xaden did for you.”

At the same time, both of their bodies start sliding in and out of me. They find a rhythm instantly: Cassian fucks me forward onto Xaden, and Xaden fucks me back onto Cassian. It’s easy enough to let them do all the work, my bones and liquid at this point anyway. All I know is pain, pleasure, and unfiltered need for these males. 

I moan deeply as Cassian hits that spot inside me. Xadens hip stutter, his head tipping back as Cassian hits it over and over again. 

“Does that feel good, Xaden?” Azriel asks, gripping his hair at the root, whispering right in his ear. “To have our girls' mouths all around you?”

The dragon rider nods as best he can with Azriel’s grip. “Fuck yes.”

“Make her stop.”

“W-Why?”

“Because I told you to. Yn, stop,” Azriel demands. I instantly pull my mouth away from Xaden, even if it makes me want to scream and thrash and beg for it back. I need it, need to taste it, need to feel him cum down my throat. “See, she listens to me. Do I need to punish you too?”

“No,” Xaden shakes his head. “I’ll listen.”

“Yes you will.” Azriel gives a fake smile. “On your knees.”

Xaden sinks to his knees. 

“Suck on Yn’s clit. Make her cum on Cassian’s cock.”

The sight of Xaden, on his knees, cock leaking continuously, does something to me. It gives me ideas for later. He helps push open my legs, even when the first brush of his tongue makes me see stars. Cassian has to wind his arms around mine to keep me from sliding off. I know he’s strong, but to be able to hold me still and keep fucking me is…

“Good boy, Xaden,” Azriel praises, brushing his hair away from his face. “Just like that, make our pretty girl cum.”

It’s not going to take long. His laps are so soft, so gentle, and it works far faster than I’d like to admit. 

“Az- Az can I cum?” I ask, just to be cautious. I do not want to have this taken away from me. I can’t have it taken away from me. 

“Yes, pet. Cum as much as you want.”

It’s like music to my ears. It’s building and building. In my core, at the base of my spine. Behind my eyelids. It’s fucking everywhere. My vision goes white and an embarrassing noise tears from my soul. I writhe on Cassian, driving him further and further inside me. Sweat is dripping off me in buckets. Fuck it is so fucking hot in here.

“Very good Xaden,” Azriel says. “What a good boy, making our pet cum so well. You can stuff your cock back down her throat. She looked so sad to see it go. Go ahead and cum, fill her up nice and full. Cassian, get up.”

Suddenly I’m on my feet being steadied by several pairs of hands. The way Cassian is looking at me, the way he’s breathing, tells me I’m in trouble. The glances passed between Az and Cass worry me. The next thing I know I’m on my knees and elbows, ass up in the air.

“Sit on the floor, Xaden,” Azriel commands. “Right in front of Yn. Yup, there you go, now just let Cassian fuck her onto you.”

A shudder runs through my entire body when Cassian slips back in. I swiftly take Xaden down, mainly because if I don’t I’m going to go crazy. The delicious, sweet taste of him fills me once again and I hum in content. 

“Don’t hold back Cassian, chase exactly what you want. Fill up her pussy as much as you want, she can take it.”

“Fucking hell, Az. Are you trying to kill me?” Cassian chuckles, letting his motions pick up pace. Every snap of his body into mine sends waves of pleasure down my spine. It rolls through me and allows me to take even more of Xaden in my mouth. “I’ll never get over just how fucking tight she is.”

“Malek spare me…” Xaden curses. I get to watch Xaden fall apart and a new thrill fuels my motions. I lose all concept of time, I have no idea what is going on. All I know is Cass is fucking me like his life depends on it, and that Xaden is holding on for dear life. 

I suck as hard as I can, pressing my tongue into the bottom side of his cock. I can’t pay attention to the most sensitive areas of him, mainly because Cassian if fucking me too hard to let me. Hopefully I can make him see stars anyway. 

“F-Fuck Yn, I’m gonna cum,” he warns, knees falling open. “Oh fuck I’m gonna cum.”

“Give it to her, Xaden,” Azriel kneels beside Xaden, hand trailing over the muscles in his chest. 

I watch the muscles in his abdomen clench with every breath. He scrunches his eyes closed and I brace for him, letting his hips rut as fast as he wants. With a long, drawn out growl, Xaden releases down my throat. I do my best to swallow it all, but between the angle and Cassian's relentless thrusts, I let a few drops spill out. 

Xaden is throbbing on my tongue, his sounds of pure pleasure fill my ears, filling me with deep satisfaction. 

“Can’t fucking take it anymore,” Azriel rips me off of Xaden and takes his place. I’m hauled up onto my palms, Azriel’s cock bobbing in front of me. Before I can take it between my lips, Azriel bends down to my level, licking the droplets of Xadens cum off my lips. 

I went as still as a statue. Tingles spread from the tips of my fingers to my toes. I watched him swallow, his Adam's-apple bobbing. I was at a loss for words. If he wanted me to speak, it’d be impossible. 

Thankfully I didn’t have to. He filled my mouth, not wasting a second. 

“Xaden, will you go grab those towels?” Azriel asked, hands trailing over my shoulders. 

“When I can move,” he responded, making the Shadowsinger and the General laugh. I swore I could feel the rumble of his laughter through his cock. 

“Not gonna last much longer,” Cassian warns, adjusting his grip on my hips.

“Wait.” Azriel urges, “Give me one minute.”

Cassian stills, and I whine in discontent. A second later, his hand smacks my ass, undoubtedly leaving an imprint of his hand. “Don’t complain, pet. Or you won’t get anything at all. You should be grateful to be stuffed full of our cocks. That’s no way to disrespect a guest.”

Azriel is unforgiving as he fucks my throat, his pace fast and hard. To be fair, he has been waiting a long while for his turn. It doesn’t take long for him to start showing signs of nearing his high. He grabs both sides of my sweat-soaked head, and I feel drops from his own body–and Cassians–land on me. 

“Want my cum?” Azriel asks, pulling me off. “Want me to cum down your little throat, pet?”

“Yes yes yes,” I slur my words together. “Please gimme all of it, need all your cum. Wanna taste you so bad.”

“Yeah you fucking do,” Azriel’s grin is sinister. He knows exactly what to say to make me squirm. “Drink it all up, slut.”

When he finally gives me what I want, I don’t dare waste a drop. I leave no mess to clean up as he cums all the way down. There’s nothing I can do but swallow, swallow, swallow.

I begin to lose some consciousness, the heat and over exertion finally catching up to me. I feel Azriel slip out, praising me and telling me how good I did. I think I nod, but Cassian resumes his motion and I forget about everything. I can only focus on him pounding into my pussy, getting so deep I have to let out little noises every time he does. 

“She’s so fucked out,” Xaden says from… somewhere. 

“Yeah she is, she looks so good. Limp and used. So fucking hot, Yn,” Azriel agrees. 

I moan in response. It’s about all I’m capable of at this point. And it feels so good. Everything they did to me, every thrust from Cassian feels like I’m floating. I close my eyes and let him finish me. 

As Cassian lets go, I feel him pin my shoulders to the ground, ramming his hips as hard as he can into me, filling me up nice and tight full of his cum. There's a big stretch, and then an almost immediate release. His warm slick flows out from around him and down the inside of my thigh. Tears or exhaustion and pleasure streak down my cheeks and fall onto the wood floor of the sauna.

Eventually, I’m laid on my back. I can barely open my eyes, but I feel a tongue lapping between my legs. I try to inch away, but firm hands keep me from closing my legs. I whine. 

“Ah ah,” I hear Cassian chide. “He’s just trying to clean you up. Be still. Here, drink this.”

A cup is pressed to my lips and I hungrily drink down. The salty, briny taste is washed from my tongue and my blurry vision begins to steady. I look down, seeing Xaden between my legs, his curly head soaked with sweat. 

Cassian’s thumb brushes my cheek, collecting a small tear. “Aww, poor baby.” I watch as he licks it from his digit. It… gets me going faster than I’d like to admit. Then his tongue trails the length of my cheek. I shudder, letting out a tiny squeak. “Told you I’d lick them clean.”

“Alright that's enough, Xaden,” Azriel says from up above. “Let’s get her inside and cool off.”

“I just couldn’t help it, her pussy looked so good full of cum,” Xaden winks at me, and I can feel a flush of my cheeks and neck. “Even after all we’ve done together, I still make you blush.”

“Zip it,” I glared at him, failing to keep my smile at bay. 

Cassian lifts me up, hugging me close to his chest. We’re all covered in sweat, but I don’t give a fuck. I just want to take a nice bath, curl up with my boys, and sleep into next week. A cold burst of air greets me as we step outside the sauna. 

“Is she doing okay?” Azriel asks. I think it’s him that brushes hair away from my face. 

“Mhm,” Cassian responds, giving my body a squeeze. “She's gonna be alright?”

“Yeah,” Xaden added. “She always recovers really well. She’s not afraid to tell us what she needs. But by this point we know what she needs.”

“My only request is a bath.”

“See?” Xaden chuckles, then plants a kiss on my head. “Feeling okay? Not too lightheaded?”

I make a noise that sorta sounds like an ‘mhm’, but it kinda comes out as a garbled mess. All three of them give a laugh. 

“That was… more fun than I thought it was going to me,” Cassian sighed contently, padding down the hallway to one of the bedrooms. I'm set gently on the bed, propped up against Cassian. I am way too tired to open my eyes, but my ears track them all around the room. I can smell the soft lavender wafting from the bathroom. Hallelujah. 

“Yeah, I’m glad you joined,” Xaden agreed, his fingers beginning to braid sections of my hair. “We’re just waiting on the tub to fill up, pretty girl. Then we’ll get cleaned up and go to bed. You did such an amazing job, taking us all like that. And the game? We’re going to have some more fun with that, aren’t we?”

“Yes we are,” I nodded, peeking open my eyes to find them all huddled around me. Azriel smiles sweetly, cupping my face, stroking his thumb back and forth across my cheek. “Hi.”

“Hey,” he whispers. “Feeling better?”

“Yeah,” I nod, clenching my hands to get some of the tingling to go away. “It was so hot in there.” 

“We even turned down the heat before you got in there,” Xaden explained, tucking some hair behind my ear. “Did you have fun?”

“I always do, did you?” I asked, looking up at Cassian.

“In the beginning I was a little unsure but… now I’m hoping you’ll send word any time you wanna play again,” He grins, pressing a kiss to the top of my head. “You were unbelievable.”

“Isn’t she something else?” Azriel looks at me fondly. “Baths ready, want to be by yourself or do you want one of us in there with you? Or… well, I guess we all can fit if that's what you want.”

“Well I’m certainly not going to wash my own hair,” I grin.

They all share a look, smiles creeping onto their mouths. 

“I’ll get the shampoo,” Azriel winks.

“I call the conditioner,” Xaden stands, following Azriel into the bathroom. 

I can’t help but laugh. 

“Are they always like this?” Cassian watches as they root around in a cabinet, smelling the different bottles. 

“Yes, they’re too kind to me.”

“I think it’s well earned,” he smiles, helping me stand. “Come on, let's go.”

I let him lead me in, making sure I get a good look at his ass. Damn. just… damn.  

“I could ask Feyre to commission a painting, it’ll last longer,” he says cockily. 

I give it a smack. With a helping hand from Azriel, I sink into the tub, and let the water cool off my skin. I lean back, wondering how I got so damn lucky.

[mclacedes]

A Fading Echo (LH44)

CHAPTER I: Taste Karma.

hello beautiful babes! here's a little something i've been wanting to write for a while now and just flew out of me randomly!! hope you enjoy this and hope this makes any sense at all :)

warnings: breakup, abu dhabi ‘24, lewis leaving mercedes, lewis in ferrari, lack of XNDA songs, partner moving on.

“it isn't only how he died, but that he died believing. and so i try to be kind to everything i see. and in everything i see, i see him.”

— Hanya Yanagihara, “A Little Life”

this is slightly inspired by Hanya Yanagihara's book "A Little Life", but THIS IS NOT A RECOMMENDATION from me and THIS DOES NOT mean I like that book at all !!!

also, there's a part II for it, so lmk if you like it :)

End of season. Last race. Last race with Mercedes.

This was the end of an era, but the start of an age. A new chapter in this long book, filled with broken records and (un)fulfilled dreams.

There was only last thing he wanted though. A thing he’d never done.

To release an album.

+44, his first album, would come out in a few hours and nobody even knew it.

Lewis had poured countless hours into it, refining each lyric, melody, and harmony until every note fitted just right.

Every detail was thoroughly planned, every step thoughtfully envisioned. The photoshoot was booked, the interview responses rehearsed, the songs were ready. But one day, he realized the only thing that should be put together — his very self — was melting, breaking apart into millions of pieces of longing, sorrow, wrath and regret.

This should be a moment of fun, a moment of celebration, but the only thing he’d think about is how this album only exists because, at one point, he had you — the best thing that ever happened to him, his confidant, his partner in crime.

But, as of now, there's no you in his life and, apparently, no space for him in yours.

Now you’re a fading echo, a ghost haunting every inch of his life, lurking in the back of his mind so he can get a glimpse of your broken-hearted gaze in your salted-water-drowned eyes when he closes his.

Your laugh still echoes through the paddocks around the world; he still knows every word of the prayer you’d mutter every time he climbed into the cockpit. You are in his houses, cars, clothes, and everything he is now—a wreckage.

There's a simple routine he follows, absentmindedly, now that you're gone: he smiles when he sees you in a small detail of his life; then his heart tightens painfully, suffocating him. When the stars fall at night, he lies awake in the darkness of his room and his own mind, clutching the pillow you once slept on, desperately trying to grasp some semblance of solace and familiarity. Lewis lingers there, until your vanilla scent fades away completely as he drifts into the restless awareness of his subconscious—his dreams, in which you've never left and still loved him. In his perfect, tailor-made utopia, you can bring yourself to look into his eyes and say you forgive him.

But reality has other plans. Like always.

He just wanted to get through today.

Yes, the Universe is vast and gracious, munificent and indulgent, and Lewis knows this. But, today, his last race with Mercedes in a track that holds so much memory, the Universe had made its mind: the winds of fate would play a trick on him.

This morning, after waking from a dream of you in your favorite park in France, laughing about babies and tracing shapes in the clouds, he never imagined he’d want to leave the paddock as soon as he entered it.

On the drive to Yas Marina, it hadn’t crossed his mind that he might see you, hand in hand with that one actor—Jensen Ackles—who you used to gush over.

As he signed caps, mini helmets, and photos for his fans, not for a single moment did he expect to catch sight of you in the paddock, wearing rosso corsa, cheering on Ferrari—Ferrari, of all teams. The same red team you used to roll your eyes at. The same red team that the man beside you had so often boasted about supporting. The same team that he had signed a contract with.

None of it had been his choice, and yet his entire body betrayed him the moment his eyes landed on you; as though someone had fastened his feet to the ground, he was unable to walk. He not only couldn’t move, but he felt like air didn't get to his lungs so he couldn't breathe, and there was nothing more interesting than the scene in from of him so he couldn’t look away.

For a second there, he wished you were ugly. He wished your eyes didn’t glisten when you honestly found something funny, that your dress didn't perfectly frame your body, and your teeth were broken. He wished there were flaws he could cling to, reasons to justify hating you; he wished he could have the strength within himself to fall out of love. But you were too unattainable for him to let go.

And, God, you were glowing. Your smile beamed, your hair fell perfectly just the way he likes it, and then—what. is. that?

Your hand laid slightly over your belly.

Your left hand rested on your belly, right where your womb would be.

Your left hand, with its delicate fingers, bore a ring—a massive diamond that caught the sunlight in a cruel, mocking glint.

And then there was him. Jensen Ackles, the so-called antichrist, standing behind you with his arms wrapped around you like you belonged to him. His hold was possessive, unyielding, as though he’d fight tooth and nail to keep you. But he did seem like he was happy. And the worst part about it is that you seemed too.

Lewis’s heart rate spiked, pounding in his chest, his thoughts racing faster than the W15 ever could.

“Is she pregnant? They're engaged? Are they married already? When is the baby due?”

And then, just before he turned away, one final thought slipped through the chaos in his mind: taste karma.

[phyrestartr]

Heyyy I'm not sure if you take requests but I have an idea-

Reincarnated! Husband sukuna x Dead spouse (husband) Male Reader: this one is kind of like sukuna fucks up a lot, I think this can work out as an omegaverse? He cheats, fucks around, or doesn't even give af about m reader who is his fated pair, but then m! reader died and since they were mated he's like “shit I can't live without him” so he tries to be good to him the next life and they have happy family the end.

Replay (This Time I'll Get It Right) | Sukuna x Male!Reader (Part 1 of 2)

W/C: 1.6k #alpha!sukuna, omega!reader, mentions of suicide, mentions of murder, ABO dynamics, mentions of stalking, mentions of toxic exes, sukuna sucks, sukuna sucks less eventually, reincarnation, next lives, angst, drama, hurt/comfort, toxic relationships, infidelity/cheating

NOTE: Thank you for your patience!! It's still not quite done, but I wanted to post the first part up while i think of the rest of the story (got a vague idea of how it'll go, so should come out soon). Ty for the req!

tags: @kamote-kuneho @prettorett @memedealer-exe @tr4nniez @better-imagination-9 @flowersatwork @memedealer-exe @silvern1006

♪ Here With Me - d4vd

♪ Watch the sunrise along the coast

As we’re both getting old ♪

Sukuna puffed on a cigarette, staring out at the city lights. You always liked coming here, to this little cliff hanging above the city–especially when you were stuck on lyrics or tabs of whatever song you were working on. This hillside spot was cheesy and stupid, but you loved the way it felt like an old-school chick flick when you drove up here in your beater.

In this spot, Sukuna realized you had an old soul, one that basked in the simple, mundane things like stargazing and city-watching. It was a step away from feeding pigeons in the park, your producer decided. The way that made you laugh still sent his heart on a wild chase. That, too, was the first moment he realized he wanted you more than just a collaborator. 

And, maybe, if he had pushed aside the partying, the drugs, the women, he might’ve bothered checking his phone. He might’ve been able to apologize for wrongs done and words said, to get back on the right track. He might've not found out about you on the news. Maybe he could have given you everything you wanted–

But he couldn’t. Not anymore. 

♪ I can’t describe what I’m feeling

And all I know is we’re going home ♪

Even after locking you down and starting on that stupid journey to start a family, his spirit still yearned to wander free. 

So it did. 

Primal wants controlled him. He allowed them to steer him away from the safety of your touch and into the gnashing jaws of excitement, of danger. All because the two of you were starting to make it–you were starting to leave your mark on this world, and Sukuna let the fame and greed get to him. 

But how could he not jump at the chance to fuck the famous and infamous? How could he stay faithful to just you, a smalltown boy, when big city celebrities reached out to him, pulling him into big deals and bigger beds? How could he–

His phone blitzed to life again, ringing in the hollow quiet of a too-expensive car. The call went to voicemail, leaving him in the pits of Tartarus again, drowning in the frigid rain beating against his car windows like a million bullets trying to seek the death penalty.

Did angels do that? Take revenge for their own kind? He’d understand it. Jin, an angel in his own right, exiled his Luciferian twin from the celestial plane, barring him from what was left of that tiny spark of love and hope he called “family.” 

♪ So please don’t let me go, oh

Don’t let me go ♪

His phone rang again. He remembered picking it up once upon a time, listening to your shaky voice as you told him the worst and best news he’d ever heard in his entire existence: “I’m pregnant.” 

Sukuna didn’t know what true fear and excitement were until that moment. You laughed through waterworks, lifted by Sukuna’s uncontrolled motor-mouthing and celebrating as he hooted and hollered on the other line. The women your husband was with gave him weird looks, but he didn’t care–you were pregnant. You were going to–

You were going to have his kid. His pup. A shared little joy, a spark of hope for the future. And then–then someone took that away. 

The sorry waste of life, the obsessive ex you vehemently feared, left behind a note for whomever found the tragedy: “I'll take care of them from now on.”

Sukuna knew there had to be more to it, there had to be more of an explanation, but the media wasn't interested; they only wanted to use and abuse your name and face for articles and news reports, not to reminisce on you nor the woe of a murder-suicide.

How come no one cared? Why did no one fucking care?

♪ Save your tears, it’ll be okay

All I know is you’re here with me ♪

He snapped. Sukuna kicked the dashboard. His boot cracked against the console again and again and again until your siren song died in a quick fit of static. He crashed his heel into the broken screen a dozen more times, each impact punching shout after shout out of his tight throat as the weight of the fucking sky collapsed on him. He wasn’t Atlas. He couldn’t hold it up. He never could, not by himself.

Sukuna heaved in breaths. His stomach swirled and churned with nausea. He held his head and leaned back, screaming into the thunder that shook the world with a vital roar, hiding heartbroken howls.

Why? Why? Why? 

“Deep breaths, Sukuna,” your voice cooed. It came from the darkness, from the forgotten corners of his mind. Why were–ah, right. He’d been here before, overcome with agony and grief. Unable to breathe, unable to cope, unable to exist.  

He followed your instructions. 

“In. Out. In. Out.”

In. Out. In. Out.

The phone rang again. Sukuna answered. He hoped whoever it was would tell him this was all just a bad joke. A bad dream. It wasn’t real. 

“Finally,” Wasuke sighed on the other end of the line. “Kid, where the fuck are you?”

Sukuna stared up at the roof of the car. Words smeared and oozed like molasses in his mind. He couldn’t understand the words he knew he could understand. 

“Sukuna.” 

“What the fuck do I do?” Sukuna asked. His voice quivered. Chipped and cracked.

His father fell quiet. But he was wise. So fucking wise and so good at everything that came with life and death, morality and love. 

“Become a better man,” he said, like it was so simple. 

Sukuna scoffed. “H-How the fuck–”

“Quiet, kid.” Wasuke sighed. “That boy loved you. He had faith in you as a partner and a father. Remember that. Honour that, and become the man he knew you could be.”

Sukuna didn’t know his heart could break more, but it did. 

He sobbed. To his father, to himself, to you, to that unborn joy, to whatever fuckhead created life and love in the first place. He cried for forgiveness, for a second shot. 

“I’ll try,” Sukuna bit out. “I’ll try.” 

–

♪ I wish I could live through every memory again

Just one more time before we float off in the wind ♪

Sukuna woke up to that song. It was the same one that played in his nightmares, the same one that robbed him of sleep until he lost his mind and–and–

“What the fuck happened?” Sukuna croaked to whatever singing nymph fluttered around him. 

The damn song stopped, leaving Sukuna in just a second of tumultuous silence. 

Beep. Beep. Beep. 

The rhythmic chirping of some machine–a heart monitor, maybe? A metronome?--kicked up into double time, jamming an ice pick into his skull further and further with every hellish second that passed by. He could almost hear the radio static, the warp of a ballad calling to him. And it wouldn't stop. It wouldn't stop. Why wouldn't it stop? Why? Why? Why?

“Hey,” your voice cooed. Your hand rested atop of Sukuna's and squeezed. “Can you hear me?” 

Sukuna cracked a tired eye open to look up at you; you were perfect. God-given. A blessing he needed to see right now with your gentle eyes and kind smile, the gentle scent of lavender and vanilla cutting through the disgusting sterility of the room. 

“Can hear you,” Sukuna rasped. His hand tried to turn to hold yours, and you helped by slipping your palm into his. His heart rate slowed with the rhythm of the machine. 

You nodded and covered your clasped hands with your other one. “Good. You probably don't remember, but you were in an accident. A car side-swiped you when you were on your motorcycle.”

“No shit.” 

“Yes shit. But you're alright. Would recommend wearing a helmet from now on.” You pat his hand before slipping both of yours free. “I'll call the doctor and your family. They'll be glad to know you're awake, Itadori-san.” 

He wanted to ask you to stay. He didn't want you to go, not right then, maybe not at all. 

But you flashed him another comforting smile and slipped out of the room before he could object.

–

His father came by. Jin and his son, too. Uraume and Yorozu scolded him for not wearing a helmet. The ragtag group of hooligans he unfortunately associated with (just for the sake of going to their fancy-ass parties, he reasoned) came and went, too; Gojo gave him headaches, Getou made it worse, Ieiri wasn’t so bad.

Then there was you. You were always humming some sort of tune, whether it be the song from his nightmares or something he'd never heard before. Sukuna liked it, the sound of your voice, but you'd always clam up the second you realized someone might hear. 

It led him to pretend to be asleep far too many times during his recovery. Your songs eased his wildfire spirit, let it simmer down and curl up comfortably in a ring of stones to keep those near safe and warm without the fear of being burned alive. Hell, they could probably even make some s’mores if they wanted. 

Eventually, though, Sukuna wanted to know more. And what better person to ask than the burgeoning med student herself?

“Oh, [Name]?” Ieiri asked, sitting beside Sukuna’s bed and looking over the machines connected to Sukuna with rapt attention. “He’s a new-ish nurse from what I get. Pretty cute, huh? Apparently passed his exams no problem and–” 

Sukuna rolled his eyes. “If you don’t know relevant shit then just–”

“He’s single. Omega. Likes men. Kinda older than us. Gojo and Getou got rejected already.” 

That shut Sukuna up. 

[nobodysdaydreams]

I’ve seen a lot of posts about how “no one mourns the Wicked” is actually about Galinda, but I’ve been listening to it again, and I gotta say, I think the song is actually about the Wizard with rather dark implications.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m sure Galinda thinks and believes it’s about her. But Galinda became good in the end, she was Elphaba’s friend, Elphaba and Fiyero miss her, and Galinda has friends in Oz, the musical ends with one of Elphaba’s flying monkeys getting the ability to talk to her and Galinda can help them now. She’s mourning Elphaba, and she might be alone in that, but in other respects, she isn’t alone or dead or wicked or forgotten.

The same cannot be said of the Wizard. “The Wicked’s lives are lonely” is very much about him. Even at the height of his power, he had to isolate himself so that no one could see he was a fraud. When Elphaba threatened him, he became paranoid and spent his days in isolation and fear. Whereas Galinda, even at her worst and limited power, has always been well known. The Wizard has left Oz, and the people don’t seem to question it because they have Galinda now, and they know Galinda and they love Galinda, while the Wizard was more an idea than a man. He never visited them, he never did what Galinda does for them. No one misses him, why would they? Galinda fills his role, what little of it there was, a thousand times over. The lyric “no one cries they won’t return” fits the Wizard best, not Galinda. People are thrilled to see her, and don’t seem to care that he’s gone, while Galinda cries for Elphaba.

Also “the wicked cry alone” applies to the Wizard too, when he mourns Elphaba. Yes, Galinda technically mourns for her alone too, but at least Galinda has the Animals, the few that can still say some words. The Wizard cries, but Galinda doesn’t cry with him, because the Wizard is crying over his own actions as well as her death, and Galinda has no sympathy for him, no one does, and that’s his own fault for making them hate Elphaba. Also the song says “Nothing grows for the wicked, they reap only what they’ve sown” and the story that Galinda tells during the song isn’t her and Elphaba’s story (that’s later), but Elphaba’s and her father’s story, specifically, how the Wizard brought about Elphaba’s existence and set himself on this path. Galinda asks if people are born wicked or have it thrust upon them, which is ironic because the Wizard is the reason Elphaba was born AND why she was vilified.

Then we have “no one lays a lily on their grave” and “the wicked die alone”. I’ve pointed this out in other posts, but it’s never confirmed in any or at least most versions of Wicked/Wizard of Oz source material that the Wizard makes it home or has any way to do so. I’m not sure what the movie is gonna do about this, or if they’ll attempt to repair the balloon or heavily imply he dies, but the Wizard dying alone in his grief and no one missing him while instrumentals of “no one mourns the wicked” play in the background certainly takes care of that problem.

Also “woe to those who spurn what goodness is, they are shown” also applies to the Wizard. He has a whole song in part 2 about goodness being a matter of perception and rejects Elphaba’s plea to help the Animals. He vilifies her goodness and believes, truly, that he is the hero because he has declared himself so, and that he is a good “father to the nation” because he declared it. He makes himself the subjective decider of goodness. It’s only in the end, when he realizes what he’s done to Elphaba that he has regrets and begins to see and understand the evil he has done. Elphaba is what he “misses when he’s misbehaved” as the song says, and although none of the villagers know that, Galinda witnessed it and knows that the Wizard missed the opportunity to be a father, which was all he claimed to ever want. It’s a missed opportunity, information he would not have been missing and discovered earlier had he acted differently, and “missed” in the sense that he misses the daughter he threw away.