#they had a beautiful final scene... fuck everything else

[giantkillerjack]

Me and my wife: *hang out for 6 hours and stay up til midnight talking about our favorite things*

My wife: *leaves to shower and go to bed*

Me, 2 minutes later: *picks up phone to text her about the new movie trailer I just watched*

[miyadollie]

THE DEVIL WEARS RED ˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

★ STARRING non idol jeon yunho x fem reader ★ WORD COUNT 1.2k

★ CONTAINS pwp , use of degrading words , rough sex , p in v , unprotected ( use safety !! ) , mean dom yunho , jealous yunho , cute ending

★ MIYA SAYS 💗 most overused trope on the planet but hehehe THIS WORK HAS ADULT CONTENT . MINORS ARE ADVISED TO NOT INTERACT WITH IT.

you felt yunho's eyes on you all night.

every subtle sway of your hips, every laugh that lingered too long at someone else’s joke, and especially when you let his friend dance a little too close—yunho noticed everything.

but he didn’t say a word. not in front of anyone.

his stare, though? lethal. heavy. possessive.

it was his best friend mingi's birthday celebration, and of course, he wouldn’t cause a scene. but you, oh you were the devil that night.

you wore that red dress. the one he bought for you, the one meant for his eyes only. you slipped into it like a sin, letting every curve of your body shine under the party lights. you knew what you were doing, and he knew it too. and he hated every second of watching others see what belonged to him. his gorgeous, beautiful, goddess of a woman.

he should’ve known better than to let you arrive with your best friend. the office work could’ve waited. dosie, with her reckless ideas and smirking instigation, had always been a bad influence. he often wondered why he hadn’t put an end to that friendship long ago.

when the party finally died down, you and yunho bid your farewells and left together.

the car ride was silent. tense. yunho's knuckles turned white around the steering wheel, his jaw set, brows furrowed. he didn’t speak, didn’t even glance at you.

he was disappointed, furious actually.

you, on the other hand, sat by the window, grinning to yourself like the wicked little thing you were.

you’d done everything on purpose.

yunho had been distant, consumed with work, barely touching you these past few weeks, and if acting like a whore in front of his friends was what it took to snap him out of it—so be it.

you didn’t regret a thing. because you knew exactly what was waiting for you when you got home.

and you were going to love every second of it. ────

the silence in the car was deafening, thick with tension. you could feel it rolling off yunho in waves—fury, lust, restraint. that dangerous cocktail he always tried so hard to swallow when it came to you. but tonight, you had stirred it up on purpose, and it was bubbling just under the surface.

he didn’t even look at you when he pulled into the driveway, just killed the engine and stepped out. the slam of the car door made you flinch—and smirk wider.

you followed him in, your heels echoing on the hardwood floor as he stalked inside ahead of you. the door barely closed behind you before he spun, eyes dark, jaw tight.

“that little stunt you pulled tonight,” he said, voice low and sharp.

you blinked up at him with doe eyes, playing innocent. “what stunt?”

he took a step closer. “wearing that fucking dress, letting mingi put his hands on you, laughing like some goddamn tease.”

“mingi’s your best friend,” you said sweetly, batting your eyelashes and trailing your fingers down the front of your dress. “you trust him, don’t you?”

“not with you,” he growled, grabbing your wrist in a vice grip, dragging you against him. “not when you look like this.”

you bit your lip, leaning into him. “maybe you shouldn’t have ignored me for three weeks, babe.”

his nostrils flared. “so this is revenge?”

you tilted your head, brushing your lips near his jaw. “this is reminding you what you’ve been missing.”

that did it. ────

in one motion, yunho shoved you back against the nearest wall, your gasp catching in your throat. his hands were on your waist, dragging the red dress up your thighs, his mouth pressing hotly against your neck, biting down hard enough to leave a mark. you moaned, arching into him.

“you wanted attention?” he hissed, hand sliding between your legs. “you got it now.”

“good,” you whispered, breathless. “make me regret it.”

he growled, lifting you off the floor and carrying you to the bedroom like you weighed nothing. the door slammed shut behind you. you were tossed onto the bed, hair spilling around you like a halo. he stood at the foot, staring down at you, chest heaving.

“take that off,” he ordered, nodding to the dress. “slowly.”

you obeyed, eyes locked on his, fingers teasing the straps down your shoulders, baring inch by inch. his gaze burned hotter with every movement, until the dress slipped down your body and pooled at your feet.

yunho’s jaw flexed. “look at you. my fucking goddess. letting everyone see what’s mine.”

you smirked, sliding back on the bed. “then come remind me who i belong to.”

that was all he needed.

his clothes came off fast—rushed, angry, needy. you barely caught your breath before he was over you, caging you beneath his body, his hands rough as they gripped your wrists and pinned them above your head.

“such a whore,” he growled against your ear, teasing, hips grinding into yours, already hard.

your breath hitched. “i wanted to see if you still cared.” you tease back.

he let out a low, dangerous laugh. “oh, baby. i care more than you can handle.”

without warning, his mouth was on your chest, biting, sucking, marking. he moved with purpose—teeth scraping sensitive skin, tongue soothing it, hands everywhere. you arched into him, moaning, the friction between your thighs building with every second.

“look at this...” he murmured, voice gravelly. “so fucking desperate now. were you thinking about this when you let him touch you? huh?”

“n..no,” you breathed, eyes fluttering.

“lies"

he slid down your body, hands prying your legs open. “i should leave you begging, make you wait. but i can’t, nghh not tonight.”

he licked a stripe up your center, slow, deliberate. you cried out, hips jerking—but he gripped your thighs, keeping you still. his mouth worked like he was starving, tongue flicking, sucking, teasing. you tangled your fingers in his hair, sobbing his name when he didn’t stop, didn’t let up.

and just as you were about to fall apart—

he pulled away.

“yunho!!” you whined, trembling.

he crawled back up, face wet, eyes wild. “nah, you’re gonna come on me.”

he flipped you over effortlessly, pulling your hips up, lining himself behind you. he didn’t wait. he slammed into you in one deep, punishing thrust that knocked the breath out of your lungs.

“this what you wanted?” he panted against your back, gripping your hips hard enough to bruise. “to be- smack treated like this? for me to rail you till you're senseless, huh?" he emphasized with a particularly hard thrust.

“yes..fuckk.. yes!”

he pounded into you, relentless, filling you over and over while his hand tangled in your hair, pulling your head back so he could snarl in your ear.

“mine. you’re mine. say it.”

“i’m yours! fuck..i’m yours, yun!”

he groaned, hips stuttering. “you’d better fucking remember that next time you think about acting up.” he says through gritted teeth.

his hand reached around to rub your clit, fast and unforgiving. you shattered, screaming his name, body shaking uncontrollably beneath him. he followed right after, groaning low in your ear as he spilled into you, staying buried deep.

for a moment, everything went still. the only sounds were your ragged breathing and the thunder of your heart.

then you felt him lean down, kiss your shoulder softly, softer than you expected after what just happened.

“next time,” he whispered, still inside you, “just tell me you miss me.”

you smiled into the sheets. “but this was way more fun.” he shuts you up with a kiss. end. read more ❤︎ please like, reblog and let me know your reviews (๑>◡<๑) this work is a piece of fiction and is not intended to reflect the real personalities, actions, or beliefs of the individuals portrayed. the idols are mentioned as fictional characters for storytelling purposes. no harm, disrespect, or objectification is intended. everything written here is entirely imaginative and not based on real-life events or relationships.

[jinxvex]

omg haiii :3 #1 i just found your account and i love your works! the way you write is just… mwahmwahmwah. besides that! i’d love it if u could do a jinx x reader where reader is lowkey oblivious but jinx is super obvious with how much she wants to fuck… and when she finally gets to hit she degrades and dumbifies reader… orrrr am i just thirsty 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️

♱ fantasy. ♱

oh girl this is sexy trust, WE IS THIRSTY TEW!! also thank you, you’re so sweet!! i’m glad you enjoy my works :))

syp. the first time jinx set her glowy shimmer-charged eyes on you, she knew she had to have you—and she always gets what she wants. no matter that you were friends and you were oblivious to her constantly undressing you with her eyes, fighting her urges to completely ruin, defile, and destroy you. you’d come to realize soon enough.

cw: nsfw content!!, dom!jinx plotting on that p***y (lol), sub!reader (i'm a switch!jinx truther but let me cook...), a lot of degrading + dumbification, cursing, dirty talk, some praise, teasing, mocking, she forces you to take it!!, mentions of oral/fingering/gun-play, strap-on sex, hair-pulling, pet names (toots, hon, babe, baby, bunny, etc?), possessiveness, nastiness galore (lord forgive me!), reader’s past sex life is purposefully written to be vague, + prob more

wc: 4.2k!!

jinx’s fantasies involving you started a month ago when she was off roaming the rowdy streets of the undercity for a market sale. well, before it. she had begrudgingly taken up silco’s orders to keep tabs on the shipment coming in and out before the market opened to the public. for what? ‘who freakin’ knows?!’ she thought.

in retrospect, jinx was never an overly sexual person. she understood what it was, why people participated in it, and her own sexual preferences but she’d never devoted much time to finding someone to fuck or to fuck her for that matter. she's fucked before, but that was it. plunging her long, slender fingers into her own cunt while reading a racy scene in a shitty romance novel was enough to get her rocks off. she figured something was missing but she brushed it off.

her mind was… elsewhere most of the time.

(a month ago...)

lost in her thoughts, per usual, jinx doesn’t see you standing in all your beautiful glory. she walks right past you, eyes darting along everything she can see to accurately take in the information silco wants her to report back to him. she's still preoccupied with the inner workings of her mind and not too much with the zaunite public.

well, that's bound to change one way or another.

suddenly, she's stopping dead in her tracks. something's changed. the air feels charged, full of opportunity and something else. curly lines, shapes, and colorful graphics fill her vision—overwhelming but she feels as though she can really see clearly for the first time.

her nostrils catch a whiff of something… sweet. inviting. like freshly baked cookies although it's almost incomparable to how truly delectable the scent is. she's taken by surprise at the smell of something so good, good enough to eat, to devour. she’s never smelt anything or anyone so delicious. it intrigued her beyond belief, she knew that whatever it was, she was going to have that thing.

that’s when in her own self-induced frenzy she'd caused by frantically turning and thrashing around to look for where the smell led her, she sees you for the first time. as radiant as ever.

everything's in slow motion.

you're leaning up against a metal post and speaking to a market vendor, your voice as sweet as ever chatting to them about ‘who the fuck cares’. your smile is the brightest she’d ever seen living in a place full of drug addicts, violence, and poverty like you’ve never been subjected to zaun in your entire life.

she watches as you flip your hair to one side, hips swaying and fingers twiddling against your satchel. she watches you so intently, that she can see your eyes blinking slowly, she can count your individual eyelashes and remember the number for the rest of her life.

to say the least, jinx is enamored by the sight of you, let alone your smell. images of how good you'd look naked, and what your skin would feel like against hers cloud her vision, creating the perfect first impression of you in her mind. she looks further at you, specifically your ass and the jeans hugging it perfectly as well as the curve of your hips. the veins in your neck travel further down beneath your shirt and she can't help but wonder what your chest would look like.

bare.

before this moment, she'd never thought of somebody in such a vulgar light; it put her in a state of shock. she let her mind wander even farther off into jinx-landia and she imagines what it would feel like to slide her fingers into your pussy and press the pads of them onto your g-spot. she wants to know what it feels like to feel you get wetter and wetter and what it feels like to make out with your pussy—to push your own juices into your mouth and kiss you dumb. she thinks about testing how deep your cunt could get—how pretty your ass would look riding a cock, tits bouncing in the air.

controlling herself was something jinx always had problems with, so she isn't surprised when she is unable to stop herself from approaching you. her feet seem to be dragging themselves towards you like some sort of magnetic force.

“hiya, toots,” spills from her lips before she can even stop and think about what she's doing.

you pause your conversation with whomever you're speaking to, looking over in her direction to find her staring intently at you. confused and a little petrified, you stand up straighter, as you aren't expecting silco’s adoptive daughter to be staring you down at the beginning of some random ass tuesday morning.

“uhm, hey,” you respond, sounding more like a question rather than a greeting in return.

‘this is gonna be so much fun,’ jinx’s eyes light up and she lets her lips curl up in a friendly smirk, running through ways in her mind how exactly she’d ruin your body, mark you up, and claim you for herself.

because no matter what, nobody else is ever getting a piece of you now that she's sought you out.

no fuckin’ way.

…

somewhere in the present, there’s an idea—a certain narrative established between you and jinx.

you’re friends. good ones.

you don't know what else would explain the obvious liking jinx has taken to you. what else would explain the way she’s always touching you, looking after you, and asking you personal questions? questions so personal they have your eyes widening and gripping the edges of your clothes.

"have you ever, y'know, done it before? had sex?"

"what sorta stuff you into? like, sex stuff."

"you ever touch yourself? what feels the best? just trying to see if i could learn somethin' interesting for myself."

you never answer, often opting to lower your head in silence. how could you? it was wildly inappropriate and quite frankly, jinx made you shy. maybe it's because she's so pretty, and bold, and has a waist so small and touchable that you just want to-

no! 'why does she care so much?' you ask yourself frequently. no friend has ever been so crass...

duh! she gives a shit because she wants to fuck your brains out 'n then maybe cuddle you a bit! but you don't know that...

jinx follows you around too, insisting you need protecting since "you're too pretty 'n perfect" to not have protection.

one day, she started walking you to your god-awful job and never stopped. her excuse was, "can't have anyone takin' advantage of ya so early in the morning, princess. janna knows they'd try with a face 'n a body like that...whew", she whistled to herself.

needless to say, she kept your life interesting. she always seems to find you, no matter where you are. like she can sense your presence anywhere. you figure she doesn't have many people to talk to, everyone's scared of her being silco's daughter and all. but, you don't have anyone either; no parents or friends. no girlfriend.

well that makes two of you. sort of.

you both are currently smushed together on her sofa in her hideout making bracelets—snacks, craft supplies, and sleepover galore surrounding you. earlier on in the day, jinx had swung by your apartment (how she found out where you lived, you had no clue) and invited you over for a sleepover for the first time. you were surprised she was trusting you enough to let you see where she retreats at night and where she spends most of her time eating, sleeping, plotting; scheming.

she has a knack for making you feel special; like it’s just you two in the world and nothing else matters.

she makes you feel alive.

you’re shaken out of your thoughts by a grinning jinx. yes, physically shaken. both of her palms are placed on your shoulders, gripping them tight and looking into your eyes almost as a way to silently ask if you’re having as much fun as her. heat transfers from her usually cold hands to your skin which has you internally reeling. you’re wearing a tank top, comfortable enough with her to show a little something extra, “whatcha thinkin’ about, hon?”

you smile back at her, “nothing.”

you swear you see her eyes flicker down to your chest for a split second but you ignore it. her eyes move quick due to the shimmer, ‘you’re seeing shit, girl’ claims the angel on your shoulder.

“hmm, you’re lying.”

“am not!” you counter.

“are too,” she doubles back.

“whatever.” you finalize, emphasizing the ‘ever’. you’re not interested in arguing with her any further or giving her the satisfaction of proving her right.

you focus on the friendship bracelet you’re creating for her, determined to make it as pretty as you can for her. you want her to wear it—like it. love it, even. it fills you with a sick satisfaction knowing that soon you’d be wearing each other's creations, way more than it would if you just saw her as a friend. you see her pause her movements out of the corner of your eye but you keep going.

the faint sound of her own bracelet dropping to the couch cushion causes your head to rise up, looking at her in slight confusion. you’re not shocked to realize that she’s already looking at you.

“’m bored,” jinx replies blankly, pouting cutely.

“and grass is green. what else is new? you’re always bored, girl,” you playfully nudge her arm.

“well… grass has more of a grey hue down here so-“

the funny but slightly depressing joke nearly flew over your head but the knowing smirk on her face clued you in on her shenanigans.

you gasp in disbelief and nudge her arm a little harder now, fighting to stifle your laugh under your breath, “ha ha. very funny.”

“yeah, toots. i’m extremely hilarious,” she holds her head up high and crosses her arms above her chest.

she pauses, “let’s play somethin’.

she faces you fully now, right knee switching from resting next to your left to mirroring both of your knees, parallel to you. she scoots closer, and by now you know her calculating personality. you know that whatever she’s up to, has to be mischievous.

“ever hear of truth or dare?”

you roll your eyes, “of course i have!”

“then, you know the rules… right?”

“yes, jinx. i know how to play,” you rebuttal.

maybe you should’ve known her attention span wouldn’t last long while bracelet making. even if the speaker blared her favorite music at her gadget station, filling the space with a comfortable ambiance.

she smiles widely, “then let’s fuckin’ play!

“it’ll be so. much. fun,” she gets closer to your face with each word to emphasize her point, biting her lip and giving you intense eye contact. sexually charged eye contact. but again, you don't realize.

“fine. fine! but you’re going first. you're better at this sorta thing.”

she leans back to give you more space, just enough space to where it's socially acceptable to still be incredibly close to your friend. she's clapping her manicured hands together as her smile grows bigger and her shoulders tense with excitement.

"truth or dare?!" she asks in a televised over-dramatic fashion.

"truth."

'too easy' she thought. although, 'this is good,' her thoughts linger further. she figures she should start you off easy.

jinx has now stopped her clapping to put a finger on her chin in a thinking motion, obviously pretending to conjure up an interesting question that she's probably already picked out in her head.

"hmm...have you ever had a boyfriend?" she asks confidently, putting emphasis on the 'boy' part of "boyfriend" in a mocking manner; like how a sibling or family member would tease you about a crush.

your eyes widen, already caught off-guard by her first question.

"uhm... no. i-i don't really like boys like that."

she licks her lower lip and smiles once again, unbeknownst to you because you've just confirmed that she actually has a chance to win you over. although, she had her suspicions when she first met you.

"ever had a girlfriend?" she questions further, a serious, eerie edge to her voice appearing at the thought of you ever even romantically touching another girl. hell, in any way, shape, or form.

blinking rapidly, you shut her down quickly, "what, no! never really got the… chance to."

initially, you were going to tease her by mentioning that she was only allowed to ask one question but, you couldn't help but shake the feeling that she wasn't going down without an answer from you.

"awesome, good to know! your turn."

"okay. truth or da-"

"dare," she cuts you off delightedly.

you file through your mind to give her something entertaining to do but you find absolutely nothing, your mind blank like always the very moment you get around her. jinx makes you feel like you don't have to live your life thinking so hard. it's peaceful.

"damn, you are bad at this game," she snorts.

"hey, i can't help it. you've gotta help me here."

she raises a brow, "i mean, you could ask me t'do basically anything. y'know i'd do it," she slowly cocks her head to the side, still gazing deep into your irises. her braids follow the movement of her head.

"make it nasty."

"what the hell am i supposed to do? tell you to take off your clothes?!"

she doesn't waver, "yeah. yeah, that's a good one. do it."

you gulp, throat now dryer than ever and your fingers hurt from tightly grasping the fabric of your sleep shorts, 'here goes nothing.'

"u-uh... i dare you to t-take off your shirt," you order weakly.

jinx doesn't even let you finish your sentence before she's crossing her arms in front of her to tug the tiny, thin tank top off of her body, you follow her hands and you watch her chuck it on the floor carelessly. you look back up at her only to realize that,

she isn’t fucking wearing a bra.

you gasp in shock and secret arousal, eyes darting to the spot below you as you avoid looking at her soft, perky chest any longer, not wanting to over-step or make her uncomfortable.

"hey, you're startin' to hurt my feelings, babe. gave you that idea for a reason. makes shit more... interesting."

you look up to meet her eyes and for the nth time, you see her staring right back at you, gaze charged with something more than usual. you may have been oblivious, but you weren't dumb, something was definitely going on here. something that friends shouldn't do alone.

but you can't stop. it's turning you on.

the game continues on for many rounds after that, you and jinx switching back and forth from truth and dare, learning more and more about each other as time passes by. you start to get the hang of her outlandish questions, answering them shyly but not as reluctant as before. something you'd never get used to was the hypnotizing way her tits bounced with each slight movement, entrancing you. you learn that she's had sex once before and that she likes rope play and getting her hair pulled.

she also mentions other personal traits of hers that make your head spin, "y'know when i get wet, i get reeeally wet. like water wet."

needless to say, you know more than you should. she seemed to not mind telling you these things either, almost excited to clue you in.

"truth or dare, baby?"

"truth," you choose once more, the pet name affecting your better judgment and the seductive tinge to her voice causing the wetness already present in your underwear to leak through to your shorts.

jinx doesn't attempt to pretend to think of a question, "tell me, toots. what turns you on? what gets ya goin'?"

"what do you mean? like some sort of a kink?"

"yeah, like a kink."

embarrassment falls over your face like a dam breaking. you have to lie. this was getting too up close and personal for your own good and the only thing that could save what's left of your dignity is a lie.

"i-i don't know..."

so much for a lie.

her unhappiness with your answer is expressed when you see her narrowing her eyes at you. she leans in close, nose brushing yours and you can feel her warm breath on your face, "i know you're lying," she says real sing-songy-like. she's teasing you, and enjoying it.

her slender finger points in your face, “no fair! showed you my tits, toots! play by the rules."

"okay! okay! god, this is so fucking embarrassing-"

"c'mon..," she urges you on, eager to learn more about your sexual side and what takes you cream. she desired to know what made your pussy wet before she stuffed you full. but again, you don't know that.

"i-um. i read something onc-,”

she cuts you off once again, “don’t got all day!”

you sigh, “okay! i like getting called names. mean ones,” you blurt out quickly—sick of her antics.

“and i think i like it…rougher?”

her seemingly continuous stare falters for a split second before a bubbly laugh escapes her throat, smiling bigger and better than she has all day.

“oh, yeah? you like it… rough? you like getting treated like you’re nothin’?” she laughs out incredulously and somehow she’s gotten closer to you, lips almost close enough to graze yours.

“jinx… i- what are you-“

“what if we… played somethin’ else? somethin’ a little more worth our while.”

she figures, ‘ay, i’ve waited long enough…i need her'.

“like what?” you inquire even though you're no longer oblivious, catching on to what she means by “somethin’ else.” you feign innocence.

you feel a calculating hand travel up your leg, they’re slightly sweaty and cold which makes a shiver crawl down your spine. your chest visibly quickens, eyebrows furrowing, and eyes glossy with desire. jinx, still maintaining eye contact with you, remains calm although internally jumping for joy as she's finally got you where she wanted you the moment she laid eyes on you.

"how wet are ya right now, toots? you look like you're 'bout to cream your fuckin' pants!"

you audibly gasp, and she continues,

"i bet you're just drippin' down there... this whole time i've been sittin' here thinkin' you're being tortured answering all my questions, but, the entire time you've been gettin' off to it, haven't ya?!"

a single tear gathers in your eye out of complete and utter embarrassment. despite that, you'd be lying to yourself if you said you didn't fucking love it.

her hand stops at the edge of your top, fiddling softly with it, "you can tell me to stop, baby! but, i have a feeling you don't want that," she whispers against your lips. you feel her tug the bottom of your tank top tighter, balling it in her clammy fist.

"dont! d-dont stop."

and just like that, a switch flips in her head. she's grabbing the back of your neck and smushing her lips against yours, capturing them in a searing kiss that has your lips aching. as soon as you feel her tongue attempt to break into your mouth, you let her in.

you initially jump in surprise but quickly sink into the kiss once you get used to the overwhelming contrast between her cold hands clutching your waist and her warm lips pressed on your lips. soon, she's basically drooling into your mouth, tongue trailing over every detail of the inside of your mouth as if she's trying to memorize the space. it's disgusting, really. but, it makes your cunt sloppy.

jinx breaks the kiss to pull your top over your head. she throws it on top of hers. the same one she abandoned long ago at the start of the game. it creates a small heap on the floor of her cozy abode.

"fuckin' whore," she laughs.

you moan, biting your lip softly as a seductive tactic to keep her kissing you.

"wooow!!" she drags out humorously, pressing her hand against your throat and tightening slowly with each word that comes out of her mouth, "you really are a slut. you like when i'm mean, slut?"

you nod, words seemingly impossible to form at this point.

she tightens her hold on you, bringing your neck closer so her mouth resides next to your ear, "if you don't speak up, i'm gonna make it hurt. 's gonna hurt so bad, bunny. gonna torture you. ‘n i know it’s our first time and all! don’t wanna have to scare ya just yet!"

unable to stop rambling, she continues, "hmm... maybe i'll shove the biggest fucking cock i have into your tight cunt... no prep! betcha you'd take it so well. hell, you'd probably like it! you're nasty like that."

"maybe i'll stuff my gun in there...with the bullets inside."

"please, jinx. fuck me.”

she just smiles, “i thought you’d never ask.”

…

you swear you see your life flash before your eyes because of how hard jinx is pounding your poor, abused cunt into the couch cushion. she has you face down—ass up with your hands held together behind your back by her own hands. your face rests on the couch arm, halfway visible to her so she can marvel at your eyes rolling to the back of your head and crossing achingly.

her own eyes roll at the sight of you in such a lewd state, “fuck, toots! you’re takin’ this cock so good. suckin’ me in your pussy like a good little cockslut. mmph. jus' swallowing it whole, fuck!!"

her pace is fast but calculated; and planned. as always. she’s roughly rolling her hips into yours to produce the addictive whore-ish moans to spill from your mouth. she’s also focused on watching her cock disappear in you, your cunt swallowing her cock like it was supposed to be there. the open space is filled with creamy cunt sounds and skin-slapping noises.

“holy fuckin’ shit, hear that? ya hear that pussy creaming ‘round my dick? she’s talkin’ to me, baby!”

you speak, remembering her resentment towards you not responding to her, “y-yes! i-i do, jinxie.”

“yeah?! you think she’s tryin’ to tell me how much she loves me? how much she loves when i split her open on my dick?” she reaches below your stomach to slap at your clit right where the balls on the faux cock meet your skin and you shudder in pleasure.

“fucking love your dick, ‘s so good, s-shit!”

it’s like her mouth won’t stop. she’s relentless—bullying you with her words as well as her cock. jinx pulls you up by your hair so your upper body mirrors hers. she slows her pace to thrust deeper and harder in you, damn near knocking the wind out of you. that causes to you choke on your breath, and your mouth is open as far as it can go.

“h-hah! aww… ‘s just sooo good, isn’t it?"

"see what happens when you’re good for me? good lil’ whores get good dick, ‘n i love givin’ it to ya, hon.”

you’re uncontrollably moaning, voice echoing loudly as you beg her for more—to wreck you.

“more! m-more please!”

“more?!“ she removes her hand from your head to dig her nails into your hips so she can get deeper, so she can open you up.

“you. want. fuckin’. more?!” she slams into your pussy with each word.

your pussy is drooling with your arousal and the shared sweat between you and jinx. you can feel it squelching down your legs with every thrust and throaty laugh she lets out at your pathetic form.

“god, you should see yourself. such’a perfect slut.”

with every word you feel your pussy quiver, getting closer and closer to cumming around her cock. when you curl your toes and inch off of her to prevent yourself from orgasming a whopping 3 minutes in she’s not having it, quickening her pace but keeping her almost-painful thrusts deep.

“nope! gonna take it all. ya asked for it, toots! you begged me to stick my dick in you. so take all of it.”

“b-but ‘m gonna cum! don't wanna yet! oh my god, p-please!!” you beg her for the slightest bit of mercy.

uncaring, she leans down next to the side of your head, lowering her voice, “you’re gonna fuckin’ cum, ‘n you’re gonna cum telling me whose pussy this is. who’s is it, babe?”

“who’s feedin’ this cunt good dick?!”

“you, you! only you.”

“yeah, ‘s me. cum, toots. soak me—get me wet.”

and that was it, “fuck! ‘m cumming!”

you release a soul-crushing moan and triggered by your sudden high, you grip the edges of the couch arm and fuck your ass back on her to deepen her thrusts if that’s even possible. wetness squirts from your cunt and everywhere around you, soaking the entire space below you including jinx’s lower half. the last thing you remember before you pass the fuck out is the hazy, content look on her face and incoherent mumbles that probably consisted of,

“that was way better than a fuckin’ fantasy.”

…

PLEASE TAKE THIS FOOD WHILE I WORK ON MY SEV REQS!!🙏🏽🫣...

[cloudyluun]

Ruined for Anyone Else

Summary: All tension finally explode in the most deliciously filthy way possible. Harry takes his time ruining you completely, and then makes sure you never, ever forget it. Soft, deep, desperate—and exactly what you both needed. Bonus SMUT scene for this one shot.

A/N: I have nothing to say except… I know exactly what I did. And I’d do it again. 😌

Word Count: 1k

Warnings:

Explicit sexual content (18+ ONLY)

Oral sex (male receiving & female receiving)

Harry being a smug, teasing menace about it

Intense buildup and edging (because of course)

Hair pulling, dirty talk, use of “good girl” because I know my audience

Overstimulation & multiple orgasms (you’re welcome)

Soft!Harry turns into absolutely wrecked!Harry and it’s beautiful

Aftercare (because he’s a gentleman, obviously)

Future husband behavior

☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆

Harry had you right where he wanted you.

Back pressed into the mattress, legs spread wide, his body caging you in, completely covering you.

And fuck—he wasn’t letting you go.

Not tonight.

Not after the way you had looked at him at dinner, your eyes flickering over him every time he licked his lips, every time he leaned back in his chair, watching you like he already had plans to ruin you the second the kids were asleep.

Not after the way you had teased him on purpose, brushing your foot up his leg beneath the table, acting completely innocent when his fingers had tightened around his fork, when his jaw had ticked with restraint.

And now—now, you were paying for it.

Because Harry didn’t just fuck.

He worshipped.

He kissed like he was starving. Like he needed you more than air, like he had spent all fucking day thinking about how he was going to have you like this—bare, needy, desperate beneath him.

“God, look at you,” he groaned, his hands everywhere—gripping, teasing, pressing. “Such a fucking dream, aren’t you?”

You whined, arching into him, your thighs trembling as he dragged his fingers down your stomach, teasing just above where you needed him most.

“Harry,” you gasped. “Please—”

He hummed, not giving in just yet. “What do you want, sweetheart?”

You glared at him. “You know what I want.”

He smirked. Slow, fucking cocky.

“Oh, I do,” he murmured, dragging his mouth down, down, down, until he was kneeling between your thighs, his breath hot against your aching core.

“But I wanna hear you say it.”

You nearly sobbed.

And then, without warning—

His mouth was on you.

Tongue flicking exactly where you needed it, fingers digging into your thighs to hold you completely still.

You cried out, head falling back against the pillows, your entire body flooded with heat.

“Oh my God—Harry—”

He groaned into you, his grip tightening, pulling you closer, pressing you down, forcing you to take everything he gave you.

“That’s it, baby,” he murmured against you. “Take it. Be a good girl and fucking take it.”

And fuck—you were gone.

You couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, couldn’t do anything except writhe beneath him, your fingers threading into his hair, tugging at the strands as his tongue worked you over, pushing you higher, higher, higher—

Until you broke.

Until your orgasm crashed through you, leaving you shaking, gasping, moaning his name like a prayer.

But he wasn’t done.

Not even close.

Because before you could recover, before you could even process what was happening—

He was flipping you over.

Dragging you to the edge of the bed, forcing you onto your hands and knees.

And then—

Then he was sliding inside you, slow, deep, devastating.

You screamed, nails digging into the sheets as he stretched you wide, filling you completely.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he groaned, hands gripping your hips, holding you right where he wanted you. “Always so fucking tight for me.”

You whimpered, pressing your forehead into the mattress, already overwhelmed, already too much—

But he wasn’t having it.

He reached forward, fisting your hair, pulling you upright, pressing his chest against your back.

“None of that, baby,” he murmured into your ear, hips snapping into you, cock pressing deeper, harder.

“Wanna hear every fucking sound you make.”

You gasped, arching against him, your entire body burning, melting, fucking breaking apart.

“Harry—”

He kissed along your jaw, your neck, your shoulder, his thrusts getting slower, filthier, more devastating.

“You feel so fucking perfect,” he rasped.

And then, just to ruin you completely—

He slid his hand between your legs.

Rubbing tight, precise circles, working you toward another orgasm, even though you were already shaking, already falling apart beneath him.

“Come for me again,” he ordered, voice thick, desperate.

And fuck—

You did.

Harder than before, harder than you ever had, your entire body clenching around him, your cries filling the room.

Harry groaned, his grip on you unrelenting, his movements rough, erratic, uncontrolled.

“Fuck, Y/N, I—”

And then—

He followed.

Spilling inside you, pressing his forehead against your shoulder, moaning your name like he fucking meant it.

Like he’d never meant anything more.

The silence that followed was thick and warm, your bodies still tangled together, his arms wrapped around you, his lips pressing soft kisses against your shoulder.

“Jesus Christ,” you breathed, completely wrecked.

Harry chuckled, his voice lazy, soft, pleased.

“Too much?”

You shook your head.

“Never.”

He grinned against your skin. “Good.”

And then, with zero hesitation, zero reluctance—

He pulled you into his arms, kissed you slow and deep, and whispered—

“Because I plan on doing that for the rest of my life.”

And you—

You let him.

Because you finally knew—

You were his.

And he was yours.

Forever.

☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆

Thank you so much for reading! I appreciate any support so remember to comment, reblog, & like ❤️‍🔥

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@run-for-the-hills

[coddda]

Everyone knows that Light and L matched each other's freak but I think their dynamic in the musical (the Japanese ver specifically) is underrated. Like it's not super different from canon but they just had this extra edge of Violence that we never quite saw from the more methodical and careful mindgames in canon death note and I think it's great. Like, yes, they did declare in canon that they will bring each other to justice, yes L says he wants to send Kira to his execution, but in the lyrics of the musical they both outright say multiple times that they just want to straight up Kill each other. It's direct the whole way through. There's more mutual contempt. This game is about nothing more than simply being the first one to Kill the Other (they actually use the word "殺し合い" (koroshiau) or "to kill each other" to describe their game (translated as "murderous ... game")).

(Sidenote but all those references about wanting to send each other to Hell?? Beautiful)

Yeah this is a battle of justice and ideals, yes that clash is a key part of their final confrontation at the end of the musical, but throughout their duets (or even songs like The Game Begins where they're singing by themselves) there's this near singleminded desire to just fucking End each other. It's fucking Raw and it's great.

Also THIS FUCKING SCENE?? THIS SCENE FROM SECRETS AND LIES. Iconic. Actually Insane. My jaw dropped. Light looks like a crazy bitch it's beautiful.

Um. Also. Obligatory Playing His Game (yknow the gay sex song) lines dump. It basically says everything I just said above in like 9 lines. You see what I mean right.

In canon they're playing a game of mental chess, trying to use everyone around them to finally catch the other as their end goal, but in the musical you really do feel like all they see is each other. They would probably beat each other to death with their fists if it came down to that. Idk they're just so excited and fired up about their little game in the musical and it's so unhinged and fun and special and I love it. It's like the writers for the musical decided to kick their murderous intent up a couple notches and the result is absolutely Beautiful.

I also think that the intensity of their rivalry in the beginning just makes the wind-down of The Way It Ends soo much better. It's such a good contrast to their previous duets where they try to sing over each other (Secrets and Lies & Stalemate) or with each other but basically at the top of their lungs (Playing His Game). It feels like there's both a quiet mutual understanding but also an underlying disappointment that the game is finally over. In canon, L's death Is instead the peak of their game, the moment he gets confirmation that Light is Kira is the exact same moment that he dies. In the jdrama it's almost sudden, how L dies, after the quiet moment has already passed. But in the musical L's death, ironically, Is the one quieter moment in their game. Their peak was the game itself. It was Secrets and Lies and Playing His Game. But the end of the game in the musical is not a victory, it's just (as L says) the end of everything they'd been wanting up until this point.

Uh. Fuck it. Clip from the Kenji Urai version because I just love his delivery here. His tone just goes so well with the silence and the sound of the clock ticking. You see what I mean right.

Their rivalry in the musical may have been more shortlived but like Damn they were really enjoying every second of it. They were truly insane about each other until the very end. (Like despite everything I just said about the ending it was still unhinged as fuck. Light Making L Shoot Him and then Making L Shoot Himself with L's Own Hand?? Holy shit man. What the fuck /pos)

Musical Light and L your game might've been shorter but you'll always be famous <33 Please never inflict what you had on anyone else ever please stay in hell forever thank you

[loserboysandlithium]

One Time Thing: Billy Hargrove one shot

18+, minors dni, explicit sexual content, cheating

Word count: 2.6k

“Hey babe, I’m gonna say hi to the boys real quick. You good?” your boyfriend Tim says quickly, kissing your cheek and jogging away before waiting for any response.

Classic.

You glance around you, taking in the scene of your basic college party, searching for any of your friends.

There are way too many people, and the dark room is filled with cigarette smoke and flashing lights from the dance floor, eliminating any chance of finding a familiar face.

You turn around and slam straight into a hard chest.

“Shit, sorry sweetheart.” the guy drawls, his tone sweet and low.

Oh, fuck. I know that voice.

You look up to see Billy Hargrove, your ex-boyfriend from senior year of high school. Blue eyes, dirty blonde curls, a cocky smile that makes panties drop within minutes.

“Billy.. what are you doing here?” you mumble, crossing your arms across your chest, trying your best to avoid his gaze.

“I just transferred here.. I thought you decided on NYU?” he says casually, his eyes roaming your body, making your cheeks turn pink.

“I did at first.. I changed my mind but um.. I should really get going-”

“Do you wanna dance?” he interrupts, his tone is smooth like honey.

“Oh, I can’t..” you reply automatically, finally looking up at him again.

“Can’t what? Have fun?” he chuckles, a gleam in his eyes as he looks you up and down again. “I’ll behave, promise.” His magnetic smile draws you in, completely blocking out the rational part of your brain.

“Maybe just one dance,” you whisper and Billy smirks down at you, slipping his arm around you, his hand resting on your lower back as he steers you towards the crowd of people.

What am I doing?

He guides you to the middle of the floor and you spin towards him, bringing your arms around his neck as his strong hands land on your waist. The feeling of his hands on you immediately making you have flashbacks to your time together.

His fingers, his lips, the way he had pleased you like no one else. His toned body, that tongue, his sounds as you went down on him. The man was delicious.

Your body leans into him, nudging closer, feeling him warm against you. You sway to the music, his fingers making small circles on your lower back as you move against him.

You can smell his familiar cologne as you lay your head on his chest, you pull away just a bit and his strong arms flip you around, your back now pressed against his chest.

“You look beautiful.” he burns in your ear, his warm breath tickling your neck.

“I have a boyfriend.” you push out forcefully, more to remind yourself than anything else.

“I know,” he replies nonchalantly, pulling your hips even closer to him, your ass pushing into his crotch.

Your eyes fall shut as you start to move your hips, grinding against him, causing his fingers to dig into your waist. He grips tightly, guiding your ass in a circular motion.

You lean your head back on his shoulder as his hands slip around to the front of your waist and you reach down, placing your hands on top of his as you continue to roll your ass into him.

Everything else fades away as the two of you dance together, your bodies grinding against each other in the darkness. His fingertips grazing your thighs, yours running along his chiseled body, sweat glistening on your skin.

Small moans coming from both of you as you tease each other relentlessly. Both of you aching for more.

“You wanna go somewhere a little quieter?” Billy’s voice is urgent in your ear as his thumb brushes across your nipple, causing you to inhale sharply.

Fuck… I really shouldn’t. Where is Tim?

“Okay.” your mouth spits out instead. Billy grins as he takes your hand again, pulling you back through the crowd, and down the hall into an empty bedroom.

You hear the door lock before he turns back to face you. His unbuttoned shirt showing every muscle on his perfect body. His hair is damp with sweat. Your eyes fall lower to see a bulge in his jeans making you throb at the thought.

He steps closer bringing his fingers to your arm, mindlessly running them up and down softly.

“I- I really do have a boyfriend.” you stutter as your breathing begins to get shallow.

“I know..” he says again, looking down at you with his piercing blue eyes. His lips curl into a smirk, his fingertips still tracing up your arm, making your entire body feel tingly.

“So I can’t sleep with you.” you breathe softly, your heart pounding in your chest, every touch from him sending your thoughts further and further away from any sense of loyalty.

“Okay, baby.” he rasps, his face getting slightly closer to yours.

Fuck.

“Billy?” you whisper, his lips mere inches away, everything in you wanting to give in, to kiss him, to taste him again. Immense pleasure right at your fingertips.

“Hmm?”

“No one can know.” you speak the words without thinking. You couldn’t help it. The only thing on your mind was his lips on yours, his body pressed up against you, the way he felt inside of you.

Billy lets out a quiet chuckle, his firm hand moving to your hip.

“Our little secret?” he raises an eyebrow and you nod, stepping closer. Your heartbeat quickens with every movement from him.

“Look, I am sorry about that other shit..” he starts, his hand still resting on your waist.

“Billy, I don’t care about that. Just fuck me like you used to.”

“Yes ma’am.” he groans deeply, picking you up suddenly, slamming you against the wall making you laugh breathlessly.

“Did you miss my cock, baby?” He murmurs deeply in your ear.

“Yes.” you breathe.

“You need me to take care of you?” he mumbles into your neck just before his mouth meets your skin making a needy moan fall from your lips.

“Yes, Billy.” you whine as he carries you towards the bed, tossing you down before stripping off his clothes as you slip out of your dress.

He lays on top of you, his weight pressing you into the mattress as his mouth meets yours in a hungry kiss. Your tongues dance together wildly, swirling and twisting. Your nails rake down his back as his tongue licks down your jaw, sucking and biting along your neck.

“No marks.” you say hurriedly and Billy just chuckles against your neck.

“No marks, baby..” he mumbles before his lips meet your skin again, planting soft kisses down your chest.

His teeth bite gently on the curve of your breast before he makes his way to your nipple, biting down, drawing it into his mouth, flicking his tongue back and forth making you moan loudly.

You figured this would be a rushed hookup but you should have known better. Billy had always taken his time pleasing you and fuck did it feel good.

One of his hands move to your other breast, massaging gently, his other slides down, slipping into your panties, teasing your pussy.

“Billy..” you moan, lifting your hips and arching your back, craving more from his fingers.

Billy continues to tease you down below, barely stroking across your slit as he releases your nipple from his mouth, moving to the other, sucking and licking before biting down, making your body jolt.

“More.. Billy.”

He grins and bites down harder, pulling the soft bud in his teeth making you gasp in pleasure.

“I wanna taste you.” he hums deeply, taking his time, trailing wet kisses down your stomach.

“I missed your tongue.” you admit, watching as he works his way lower. His eyes look up, locking on yours as he meets the top of your lace panties. He kisses over the fabric as he spreads your legs apart.

His lips tease your clit as he presses his lips against the damp material.

“Billy, please.”

“Please what?” He cocks an eyebrow, hooking his finger in your underwear moving it to the side. You can feel the chill as the air reaches your soaked cunt.

“Eat my pussy. Please, eat my pussy.”

Your head falls back into the pillow as his tongue finally dips inside your warmth. His tongue sweeps up and down, back and forth before plunging into your entrance making you grip his curls, pressing him deeper.

Your hushed cries are becoming harder to keep quiet as he moans into you, fucking you with his tongue, slurping and sucking all around your dripping pussy.

He suddenly shoves two fingers into you as his lips lock onto your clit.

“Yes.. Fuck yes.. Eat my pussy, baby.” you purr, holding his head in place, watching as he devours you.

“Cum on my face, sweetheart.” he demands before his lips lock back onto your clit, sucking even harder making you squeal. You quickly cover your mouth with your hand as you spasm around his fingers, your cum covering his hand and face.

Billy removes his fingers, sucking and licking your sweet cum, his tongue exploring every part of you making you whimper. He pulls away after a minute and you see his face glistening with your arousal. He removes your panties, tossing them to the side.

“Oh my god.” you pant as he crawls on top of you again, his tongue parting your lips allowing you to taste yourself in his kiss.

You feel his tip at your entrance and snake your arms around his neck, bringing his lips to yours just as he presses inside. He swallows your cry as he fills you completely, making your body shudder beneath him.

“Fuck, you feel so good.” Billy moans against your lips as he begins to gradually increase his rhythm, your pussy tightening around him.

There was a small voice in the back of your head telling you that this was wrong, but with every thrust from Billy, every moan, every word from his lips, the voice got quieter and quieter.

“Faster.” you mumble drunkenly, your eyes fluttering as he thrusts hard and fast. Each stroke making you squirm.

You suddenly hear a knock at the door and you both glance over, noticing the door knob wiggle as someone tries to open it.

Your eyes widen as you hear your boyfriend’s voice call your name through the door.

Oh shit.

Billy smirks down at you, you can tell Tim being right outside was only working him up even more. His large hand comes to cover your mouth as he begins to move again. You moan into his hand as he picks up speed, gliding in and out of your wet pussy. The sound of your excitement is loud as he pumps into you. Faster and faster, harder and harder.

Fuck, this is bad.

“God, baby.. You're a sweet little thing..” Billy murmurs huskily as he hooks your leg on his hip, leaning down, his lips engulfing yours.

But so fucking good.

You hear the knob rattling again and your head turns only to have Billy quickly pull your face back to him, demanding all of your attention.

“You wanna stop?” he asks, pausing momentarily, leaving himself buried inside of you. Your hips lift automatically, grinding on his cock, aching for him to move again. A slight whimper falls from your lips, barely heard beneath his large hand.

“Didn’t think so.” he grins wickedly, pulling out and driving back into you again, his big cock reaching even deeper, making your eyes roll.

You hope he left. That he's not standing outside the door. There's no hiding what was happening in this room. The sounds surrounding you are all the evidence he would need.

The bed squeaking beneath you, the sound of skin slapping together again and again as Billy destroys you, the headboard knocking into the wall over and over. Billy was strong and rough and wild. Downright animalistic. Such a contrast to Tim.

One thing was clear: Billy didn't give a fuck who heard.

He removes his hand unexpectedly and you can't stop his name from fleeing your lips.

“That’s better, baby. I like to hear you scream.” he snarls, his tongue running over his perfect teeth, his eyes wild and crazy.

Every thought of Tim leaves your head, every ounce of trying to hold back your cries completely fades away with his words.

The way he’s fucking you, it’d be a miracle if the entire house didn’t hear but you were so drunk with lust that you didn’t care.

Your nails dig into his back causing a growl to escape from his lips. You begin to work with him, lifting your hips to meet his every thrust, your sweaty bodies rubbing together as your bodies practically meld together.

“Harder..” you beg hoarsely, looking up at him, watching his pretty face full of pleasure.

Billy grips the wooden headboard and you bring your hands to his waist, your eyes watching as he enters you and pulls out slowly, his cock glistening with your excitement.

You feel the stretch each time he enters you, his hips rolling slowly, making your thighs tremble around him.

“Billy.. harder.. please..” you whimper, a needy moan following your pleas.

“I’m gonna fucking rail you.” he hisses and your mouth falls open with a gasp as he slams into you.

His hips begin thrusting harder and faster, both of you breathing heavily as your bodies grind against each other.

“Rub your clit, sweetheart. Play with that pretty pussy for me.” Billy grins. It had been a while since you’d heard someone speak so dirty to you. Your pussy growing even more wet with every word.

“Want you to cum with me.” Billy rasps, his hands still holding the headboard above you. You nod as you reach down, quickly rubbing your clit over and over as he slams into you, you can feel how messy he’s made you, pushing himself deeper with each stroke.

“Billy! I’m gonna cum!”

“Me too, baby… me too.” he groans in satisfaction, thrusting rapidly in and out as your leg begins to shake.

“I’m cumming, Billy, I’m-” you cry and Billy slams his lips to yours one last time as his cock twitches inside of you, his warm cum filling you up.

“Holy shit..” Billy laughs, falling to the bed beside you.

“Holy shit.” you agree, your body trembling all over.

*******

Tim wraps his arm around you as your eyes roam around the room. You finally spot him heading towards the beer. He grabs a can and changes direction, coming your way.

Oh no.

You watch carefully as he holds his hand out towards Tim.

“How ya doing, man?” Billy grunts as Tim reaches out, giving him a firm shake.

“Not bad, Hargrove.” Tim says, giving him a nod.

What is happening?

“Babe, this is Billy. He just joined the basketball team last week.” Tim says as Billy’s other hand reaches out to you and you feel a piece of paper slip into your palm as he shakes your hand lightly.

“You’re Timmy’s girl, right? He’s told me all about you.” he meets your gaze, a mischievous smile playing on his lips. The same lips that were just all over your body.

You manage a nod and a smile, hoping your cheeks aren’t as red as they feel.

“It’s nice to meet you. I’ll see you around, Tim.” Billy smiles a charming smile, sending a wink in your direction. You watch as he walks away, your heart still pounding from your secret rendezvous.

Tim goes to grab a drink and you open the paper hurriedly.

Pool showers. Friday, 8 o’clock? -BH

You reach into your purse, grabbing your eyeliner, scribbling a little heart in reply.

You palm the note just as Tim reappears, handing you a drink.

As you leave the party you pass by Billy, handing him the slip of paper quietly.

You glance back to see a delicious smile spread on his lips as he reads your note.

Fuck, I’m in trouble.

[monsterboness]

practice - one

summary: y/n, a former teen sitcom star and current voice actor who never had time for love, has landed her first leading role in a movie. unfortunately, she needs some extra practice with certain scenes and, fortunately, her co-star is willing to help out

pairing: bill skarsgård x female reader

warnings: shy reader, mentions of sex and virginity, self-consciousness and anxiety, nerves, kissing, costars to friends to lovers (eventually)

word count: 2748 words

a/n: another fic based on a dream i had 🙈 this series will get smuttier as it goes on (also bc this is based on a dream i had, the reader is heavily based on me (29 and painfully shy))

one | two | three | four | epilogue | bonus

Love at first sight wasn’t real, but it was a myth that Y/N was all too familiar with. She’d played the part of a lovesick teenager many times in the past, on-screen, in voiceover, and in real life, but the real thing just never caught up to her.

‘I’m just focusing on my career right now’ or ‘I just haven’t met the right person’ were her standard responses when being quizzed about her love life, and while they were true, there was one reason that she kept close to her chest.

The thought of being intimate with another person terrified her. And that left her hiding in recording studios, pushing 30, having never had sex, a boyfriend, or even a real first kiss.

When Y/N first accepted the role, she accepted the fact that she would have to get close to her male co-star, but she’d severely underestimated just how close that would be. She was about to go from chaste, closed-mouth kissing on a children’s network to being topless in a movie for adults.

“You’ll be fine, Y/N,” the director had told her. “It’s a closed set; we’ve got an intimacy coordinator, and I’m sure you’ll get on with your co-star. He’s great, it’ll be love at first sight.”

She’d scoffed at that, but as soon as she’d laid eyes on him, she was more inclined to believe in lust at first sight.

Y/N knew that Bill was attractive - she’d seen his work many times - but seeing him in the flesh was a completely different experience. Everything about him was striking: his sharp features, his beautiful eyes, the soft, shy smile he gave her every time he saw her, and the way he towered over her made her weak in the knees. If she was standing next to anyone else like him she would have felt intimidated, but he always put her at ease.

What struck her the most was just how sweet he was. He always gave her the time of day, listening to whatever she had to say and asking for her ideas and opinions on how to perform a scene. If other people found out that her dreams consisted of him fucking her brains out, they would completely understand.

Being able to perform with him should have been a breeze - and it was for the most part - but there was still that last morsel of anxiety in the back of her mind.

The day of the first scene that Y/N was nervous about had finally arrived: the first of many scenes in which she would have to kiss Bill for real. And the whole morning, she felt like her heart was about to burst out of her chest.

She was reading over her lines in her trailer, trying to calm her frayed nerves, when she heard a knock at the door. Nobody was due to be on set for another couple of hours, so why was somebody knocking for her now? She placed her script down on the sofa next to her, the pages open so she wouldn’t lose her place, before getting up to answer the door.

“Who is it?” she called before placing her hand on the handle.

“It’s me,” Bill’s voice came from the other side.

A warm flush spread throughout her body at the sound of his voice. She quickly went back to the mirror on the wall and made sure she looked somewhat presentable - checking her teeth and fluffing her hair - before opening the door to let him in.

“Hey,” she said, trying not to sound breathless at the sight of him.

“Hi,” he said with a soft smile. “Just came to see how you’re doing.”

Something pulled in her chest. She’d been fretting about the scene for days at this point, and now the very man who she was worried about disappointing was standing right in front of her.

“Oh,” she said, surprised. “Come in, then.” She opened the door wider for him and stood aside for him to walk past her. The fresh scent of his cologne drifted into her nose as he brushed past her, and she fought back a shiver at being so close to him.

“So,” he said when they both sat down on the sofa, “how’re you feeling?”

“Good,” she lied, picking at the cuffs of her sleeves as she cast her eyes down to her knees. “I’m doing good.”

“It doesn’t sound like it. Are you sure you’re okay?”

Y/N breathed in deeply and let out a deep sigh before dragging her eyes up to meet his.

“I’m just a little nervous,” she said softly. More like scared shitless she thought.

“Anything I could do to help? I could run some lines with you.”

Her heart pulled again. He was so kind that she could have cried there and then.

“It’s not the lines that I’m nervous about, it’s the…” she trailed off, too embarrassed to say it.

He looked at her for a second, his brow furrowed in thought, before realising what she meant.

“Oh, the physical parts,” he said. “I get it, sex scenes can be intimidating if you’ve never done it before.”

“Well, it’s not just those scenes,” she said, fighting back her embarrassment to force the words out. “Even the kissing makes me nervous.”

“Why’s that? You’ve kissed on-screen before; I’ve watched your show.”

Oh, god, he knows how bad at kissing I am. She should have been flattered that he’d seen her work, but instead, she wanted to curl up into a ball.

“Yeah, but children’s television is, like, the last bastion of the Hays Code.”

He laughed at that, a soft and beautiful sound that she wanted to hear again. “Okay, but you could just mirror what you do with your boyfriend to make it easier.”

“Um, that’s the thing,” she said, looking down at her hands in her lap again as her hair fell into her face. “I’ve never had a boyfriend.”

“Never?” She shook her head and peeked out of her hair at him, seeing how he reacted. Thankfully, he didn’t look at her like she was some pathetic loser, just curiously.

“Is that so surprising?”

“Yeah, it is,” he said, making her head snap up to look at him properly. “You’re a pretty girl, so it does surprise me.”

He thinks I’m pretty? Y/N felt her face start to burn and turned her head away so he wouldn’t notice.

“How come?” he asked her.

She shrugged, not wanting to give her usual excuses, but not exactly sure if she could tell him the truth either. Her nerves started to crawl up her throat, and the small room suddenly felt smaller than it really was.

The feeling of Bill’s hand over hers brought her back. Gently, he wrapped his long fingers around her own and stroked his thumb across her knuckles.

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” he said softly. 

“It’s just so intimidating,” she said. “Being intimate with another person. I’m so used to people not touching me in that way that it makes me nervous.”

He nodded and continued to stroke her knuckles, his expression soft and reassuring.

“Maybe you just need some practice,” he offered. “If you’re comfortable with that.”

This cannot be happening right now. Y/N’s heart immediately started hammering in her chest, and she clenched her free hand into a fist to calm her spiking nerves.

“Y-yeah,” she stammered. “Um, if you’re comfortable with that. I don’t want to come between you and your girlfriend.”

“Oh, I, uh, I’m single right now,” he said, suddenly as bashful as her. “But I don’t mind helping you out.”

Hearing him say that he didn’t have a girlfriend set her nerves at ease a little, but there was still that nagging feeling that she was bothering him by being inexperienced and unprepared.

“You don’t mind?”

“Of course not,” he said with a gentle smile. “Just show me what you would normally do.”

Y/N took in a deep breath and slowly let it out through her nose before shuffling up to him on the sofa, their knees almost touching. Their hands were still joined together in her lap as she reached up to touch his jaw with a shaking hand.

“It’s okay,” he said softly. “I won’t bite.”

She let go of his hand and pushed herself up onto her knees to take his face in both her hands. For a brief moment, she let her eyes wander over his face, admiring how his green eyes sparkled in the light and seeing his full lips curl into a soft, comforting smile.

Finally, she let her eyes drift closed and leaned into him, stiffly pressing her lips against his and keeping still. She barely had time to take in any of him, she was so used to doing it the way she’d been taught to as a teenager: no lingering, no tongue, keep it brief.

One. 

Two. 

Three.

She pulled back sharply, immediately disappointed with herself.

“I’m sorry, that was terrible,” she said as she covered her face with her hands.

“No, it was fine,” he said. “Just, not exactly what we’re going for here.”

Y/N pulled her hands away from her burning face and gripped the side of the sofa, desperate for something to do with her hands.

“Here, let’s try it another way,” he said as he shifted to face her. “Is it okay if I touch you?”

She nodded, and her breath hitched when he reached up to brush a lock of her hair behind her ear. His free hand rested on her waist, and he gently drew her towards him.

“Just follow my lead.”

Relax, she told herself when she closed her eyes. Just follow him.

A spark travelled through her body when she felt his lips gently brush against hers, his warm breath against her skin, and she immediately relaxed into his touch as he pressed his lips to hers. His touches were soft, gentle, almost loving, as if the two of them had been doing this forever.

Tentatively, she kissed him back, her movements slow and awkward at first until she fell into a steady rhythm with him. Her hands drifted from the side of the sofa to his shoulders as her heart started to race again, but not from nerves this time. Y/N could feel her whole body run warm, and time seemed to stand still the more he kissed her.

She’d just gotten used to the feeling of his lips on hers when she felt his tongue swipe her lower lip, gently asking permission to enter. A shiver travelled down her spine as she parted her lips, letting him in to softly push his tongue against hers. A soft whine escaped her throat as her hands lifted to the back of his head, her fingers tangling in his soft hair and stroking the nape of his neck.

The hand that held her face drifted down to her waist, and he used both to pull her body closer to his, guiding her to sit in his lap with her breasts pushed up against his chest. She finally matched his movements, her tongue dancing with his, tasting mint and tobacco on his tongue, but she didn’t mind. 

She wanted to taste every part of him.

Seated firmly in his lap, she fought against the urge to grind against him. It was just a little kiss, a practice kiss between co-stars that meant nothing, but to her, it meant everything. She wanted to hear what he really sounded like while in the throes of pleasure, not when he was just playing pretend. But she also didn’t want to ruin the friendship that they had just for her own selfish reasons.

His hands caressed her hips before one slipped under her shirt, stroking her soft skin and drifting up and up until she was sure he was going to dip his fingers under the band of her bra. Her skin tingled under his fingers, and her fingers tightened in his hair, making him hum in pleasure against her mouth. She was breathless and flustered, but she didn’t care; she just wanted to be this close with him forever. But it wasn’t meant to be.

It was over far too soon. 

She could still feel his lips on hers when he slowly pulled away, and she had to force herself not to follow after him. Everywhere he touched her was warm, her heartbeat rising to the surface as he removed his hand from her back to push a stray lock of her hair behind her ear again. Her face was so hot she swore she could have melted in his arms if he hadn’t had such a grounding hold on her.

When she reluctantly opened her eyes, she noticed him looking at her intently, his pupils dilated and his expression soft. She could have kept eye contact with him forever if her anxiety hadn’t come crawling back up her throat.

“Don’t look at me like that,” she said softly as she cast her eyes away from him, trying to hide in her hair.

“Like what?”

“Like you want to kiss me again.”

His eyes trailed down to her lips, and his tongue briefly darted out to wet his own.

“Maybe I do.”

His hand on her face pulled her attention back to him, and she studied his face intently. A faint blush dusted the bridge of his nose and the tops of his cheeks, his hair was dishevelled at the back from her fingers running through it, and his full lips were slightly parted as he breathed steadily, his chest rising and falling.

She desperately wanted him to kiss her again, not as practice, not as part of a scene, but for real. Because he wanted to.

Her hands shaking, she tentatively placed them on his shoulders as her heart raced in her chest. She held in a shuddering breath as she leaned into him once more, her lips just brushing against his as he gently stroked her cheekbone with his thumb. Her eyes drifted closed and she felt his warm breath on her face and was about to softly press her lips to his…

A forceful knock at the door yanked her back into the real world. Time resumed at its normal pace when Y/N jumped up in shock, her nails digging into his shoulders to stop herself from falling out of his lap.

“Hey, Y/N, are you decent?” her makeup artist’s voice called from the other side.

“Um, one second!” she called back as she stood up, sharper than she meant to.

Shit, how long has it been?

Her mind started to race as she scurried around the small space, trying to make it look like she wasn’t just making out with her co-star. She knew her face was still steaming hot, and the thought of the artist touching her face made her even more flustered.

“I should go,” he said with a soft chuckle as he stood up from the sofa. “They’re probably looking for me, too.”

“Oh, okay,” Y/N said, almost immediately calming down again. “Um, I guess I’ll see you on set.”

“Hey,” he said as he placed his hand on the door handle, keeping his voice down so the makeup artist couldn’t hear on the other side. “You’re gonna do great, don’t worry.”

Don’t worry. It was easier said than done, but if he kissed her during the scene the way he’d just kissed her on the sofa, she wouldn’t have any worries at all. She kept her gaze fixed on him, watching how his eyes softened and the corner of his mouth quirked up into a small smile, her face mirroring his before he turned the handle and disappeared out the door.

“What are you smiling about?” the makeup artist asked Y/N, breaking her out of her brief trance. She briefly looked over her shoulder at the door before moving around Y/N to set up her kit. “What were you two doing in here?”

“Nothing,” Y/N said sheepishly as she took her place in front of the mirror, trying her best not to blush again. “Just running some lines.”

The makeup artist didn’t say anything, but Y/N did catch the knowing smile on her face as she started on her hair.

[beforetimes]

On the role reversal au: Binghe's pov of Shen Yuan falling into the abyss

Like? Binghe dissociating over the cognitive dissonance of his sweet, precious disciple being a demon. He pointed his sword at the boy demon, convinced that he would show his true nature. Hurls accusations. Because he had to believe the kindness was a trick of Shen Yuan's or else where would that leave the one absolute he believed in in this fucked up world?

Except Shen Yuan starts pleading. Begging his Shizun to let him explain. To believe him. To let him live, to let him leave.

And it's the most selfish, greedy part of him that snaps out in anger through the haze of his mind that Shen Yuan, the caring, doting boy he needed to be able to even find the will to crawl out of bed some days was not allowed to leave him.

He finally sees the earnest, desperate, begging eyes full of tears, asking Shizun not to hurt him. Not a demon, just Shen Yuan.

No, no, that can't be right, can't be real, because if it is, then he'd just stabbed his most precious disciple, hurled heinous accusations at him. The sweetheart of a boy who is the reason he has the will to even get out of bed some days. Shen Yuan has to show his real colors as a demon or else- or else-

The cliff crumbles under Shen Yuan. And Binghe sees the thing that will replay in his worst nightmares to come:

Shen Yuan, as his mind registers that he's falling, instinctively reaches out to Binghe, silently pleading one last time for Binghe to save him from falling into hell, despite everything Binghe had done not moments before.

And Binghe had done nothing but watch him fall.

Shen Yuan had only ask Binghe to listen. Pleaded that he was still the same boy.

And Binghe had let him fall.

Binghe had let him die.

Shen Yuan, who had continuously reached out to Binghe through ups and downs, reached out one last time for Binghe to save him, and Binghe had let him die.

It was no different than if Binghe had actually pushed the boy off the cliff himself.

Binghe falls to his knees and wretches. Among the grass, he spots glints of familiar, shimmering silver. The shards of Xui Ya that had broken when it couldn't handle the outpouring of Shen Yuan's demonic Qi.

He had thought the blade perfect for Shen Yuan when he'd received it. A beautiful blade for a beautiful soul. A perfect mirror of who Shen Yuan was. How could Binghe have said such awful things to him, when it was clear to anyone who looked at his blade and seen how perfect he was?

And, he thinks back, was it not Shen Yuan who had tried to convince Binghe that some demons could be good too, just like how humans are both? Had Shen Yuan some inkling into his origins and tried to test how Binghe would respond to such a revelation? Hadn't Binghe punished him for that?

Had Shen Yuan died believing Binghe scorned him? Hated him for his blood? When he needed Shen Yuan just to keep breathing? No. No-

His fellow peak lords, when they find him, have to pry the shards of Xui Ya from his hands lest he cut his own fingers off with how tightly he holds them

this crazy ass post you're ruining my life. but like also. yes. all of this. yesss.s.s......

i'm ngl i think when i eventually do write this full fic out i'm going to have to rewrite the abyss scene sooo many times. i'm already anticipating it. because there are just so many things going on at once that it'd be a disservice to go with the first draft and leave it. and picking who's pov to go with will be! so hard!

bcz wow you really laid out binghe's thought process so well. sort of disbelieving yet numb and conflicted and!!! the idea that he wouldn't know whether or not to regret shen yuan falling into the abyss until he was already on the way down is! so good! love that bad!

thank you kindly for putting this in my inbox i will be chewing over it for many days while i plot this fic :^)

and that detail about xiu ya ohhhh don't even joke lad. i wonder if there'd be a canonical way to explain luo binghe maybe like. stopping the healing process from reaching his hands so he could look at the scars and be reminded of his failure.

masterpost

[saintescuderia]

STUCK ON THE PUZZLE // DR3

(a pancakes! one-shot)

AKA - how daniel's famed 2018 monaco win was the beginning of the end

series masterlist here :) // the pancakes recipe here :)

A/N: hi there. apologies for being mia. lot of life changes. here's something i started pre-hiatus. also shout out to dr3, mans had such an impact on my life. the prince who would've been king. words: 9.6k (strap yourself in kids) warnings: angst. like a whole lot. breakup. bit of cheating. etc. (was cathartic to write tbh)

You loved Daniel. 

You had loved Daniel with your whole being. 

Because Daniel was not someone to take half-heartedly. People either loved him or hated him - there was no in between. And when you first properly met Daniel, sticking chopsticks under the gums of his mouth to make a young Max Verstappen laugh after a bad race, you found your mouth falling open at the sight of such person. 

“Hi! Nice to meet you. I’m Daniel!” He had smiled with his whole face, eyes crinkling even all those years ago when the sun had yet made its mark on his face. A younger, fresh-faced Daniel still smiled with his whole being. Seeing Daniel smile made it feel as if the sun had decided to stop shining on the world - and, instead, focus all its rays onto you. A singular sort of warmth filled you from head to toe as you met the famous Red Bull driver who somehow made everything around him a few shades lighter, warmer, more yellow. 

Love. 

You fell in the category of people that loved Daniel Ricciardo. 

To say that you fell in love then and there would be an insult for the love that steadily grew within you for the beautiful boy who lit up your entire world. Because he did. Every time you walked into a room and found him there, you found yourself able to breathe easier. It was as if you finally could gasp at air, unaware you had been holding your breath until then, until you saw him.

When you would later talk to your therapist about it all, you would compare to when you were younger and had really bad asthma. 

“Daniel was like my puffer. I could breath easier around him.” You had said. “Now it just feels like I’m drowning again.” 

The first time you had properly hung out with Daniel, it was because of Max. Your best friend had dragged you to some campfire that Daniel was having with a bunch of his friends. You felt awkward and out of place since Daniel had invited Max - not you. Still, Max was adamant you come. At the very least, you could keep each other company. Or so Max had argued by way of finally convincing you.

And so you followed Max through the nice looking beach house Daniel had rented out. It was even more picturesque with the sun that was just about to set. Your grip on the two cases of beer you had brought with you now becoming a lifeline as the social anxiety set in. 

Walking closer, you heard music. Soft strums of a guitar playing. It was interrupted by a loud round of raucous laughter. You took a deep breath. 

Daniel was playing the guitar. He was laughing. And you finally exhaled. 

God, he looked beautiful. There was no other way to describe him.

Your crush aside, even a blind man had to admit it. The whole scene of him was beautiful. To this day, you could paint the picture clear as ever. The black and white striped Stüssy shirt, the bright pink board shorts and the bare feet. Tattoos spotted all over his body.

He was sitting right in the middle of everyone, a half drunk corona light - lime, not lemon - pushed in the neck of the beer bottle by his tattooed thigh. The flickering lights of the dancing flames shining on his tanned skin as the sun continued its slow decent to the horizon behind him.

“Ah, here they are!” Daniel said, putting the guitar away as he spotted you and Max. His smile grew and he stood up to dap Max. You, however, were awkward as fuck. You gave a general wave to everyone else, the boys nodding or holding up their beer in greeting. You suddenly realised how there were all guys here and felt even more out of place. 

But then Daniel turned to look at you. 

“Uh, hey. I brought more beer.” You immediately said because you weren’t sure what else to say.

“Oh, thank you! Legend!” Daniel said, taking them from you and setting them down. He then turned to give you a hug and you found yourself holding back. His arm went right around you and you wanted nothing more than to that just melt into him. Did everyone find him this cuddly?

“Did you find the place alright?” 

It took you a second to realise he was asking you, and not Max. Daniel’s eyes were on you. His big brown eyes and the wide smile, teeth and all. On you.

“Uh, yeah. Actually no.” You said, realising you were just on auto pilot and needed to snap out of the nerves. “Max wouldn’t listen to my directions.”

“Tsk, Maxie. You need to listen to her. Look what listening to her got you.” Daniel said to the boy behind you who was now sat, holding a beer. Max had recently been upgraded from Torro Rosso to Red Bull and, as such, now went to social events like Daniel Ricciardo's private hang outs.

Though why Max made you come with him was beyond you. 

“You’re lucky to have a trainer like this one, mate.” 

You had to steel yourself from that compliments Daniel was giving you. You watched him open the esky and dump the beers you had bought into it. He then pulled a cold bottle out and opened it to shove a lime into the neck. Daniel then turned to you, hand slightly outstretched. “I’m gonna guess beer is okay since you brought more?”

“Yeah, no worries.” You said even though you were trying to cut and technically weren't supposed to drink. It was one of the many reasons you thought it not fitting to come but Max had just dismissed a hand anyway.

You watched Daniel use a keychain to open the bottle lid and felt the need to also explain, “Max kept saying I should come but I didn't realise it would be all guys and - ” You were interrupted as Daniel handed you the drink. “- oh, thank you.”

“Don’t worry. I wanted you to come. I told Max to bring you.”

“You… oh.” You found yourself unable to form a response at that. Your body did that for you. Your cheeks warming up with the blush that set in. 

“Yeah. You’re cool. And we always have fun so it’s nice to shoot the shit outside of the garage and all the cameras of the Paddock.” Daniel said. “But, uh yeah my bad. I hope you don’t mind us guys. All these guys are lame and don’t have any girlfriends.” He raised his voice, aiming the last part at his friends who were all sitting just to the side. 

One of his friends flipped him off. “Oi mate, neither do you!”

“Yet.” Another said quietly, taking a sip of his beer as he did so. The friend beside him laughed. You found yourself blushing even more and you wanted to meet Max’s eyes - but the idiot was too busy looking up at the sky. 

Fuck's sake, Verstappen.

“Anyway, listen since we finally have a girl here you can give us advice.” One of the boys called out as you came to sit down. You ignored how Daniel didn’t go back to where he was sitting before, opting to sit next to you on a log that was definitely too small for two people. “So our mate Tommy here is slowly falling into the friend-zone. Tell him what he needs to do.” 

And so the night passed where you hung out with Daniel Ricciardo and his friends. The sensitive soul, Tommy, who was in love with his neighbour. The trainer Blake who had known Daniel since they were both three years old - and it showed in how many inside jokes they had. The cousin Corey, who worked as a teacher and was a serious lightweight. Then, of course, there was Max. You hadn’t realised how close Daniel and Max had gotten but seeing them outside of racing suits put a new perspective on their friendship with how integrated Max was with the rest of Daniel’s friends.

It all made the imposter syndrome deepen. Even though the boys included you in the jokes and explained the context behind all their stories, you couldn’t get it out of your head. Why were you here exactly?

And so on the drive back home, you grilled Max. Incessantly.

“Daniel called me said if you would be down. I said yes.” Max explained. “Maybe it was a mistake. Were you that uncomfortable?”

“Yes. No. They were all guys.” Your response was pathetic at best. That reason wasn’t justification enough. Most of your social circles lay in cars and sports. As such, Max gave you an odd look and you shook your head. The universe, as if to prove the point, Charles’ name came up on the car screen as your phone started buzzing. 

You pressed decline and huffed. Max gave you another suspicious look. “I’ll call him later. I just — “

“What?”

“I like Daniel!” You finally snapped, saying It. “Alright, Max. I like him. And it’s fucking awkward. I can’t hang out with him like I would with you and Charles and the whole thing is fucking messing with me. We work together, he’s your teammate. More than that, he's Daniel fucking Ricciardo.” You finished with a huff. You ran a hand over your face and took another breath. “So next time he asks you just say no."

“Why?” Max asked calmly, not commenting about your abrupt mental break down. Or even the fact that you had just admitted you liked his teammate. 

“Did you not hear me?”

“I heard you. I don’t agree with you. At least, not for those reasons.” Max said. “You and Daniel are cut from the same cloth. I can see it happening. He might need to grow up a little but…” Max pursed his lips. “It’s you and Daniel.”

“Well there's the big thing about him not ever liking me back.” The tone of retort was a harsh but Max ignored it. 

“Who says he doesn’t?” Max said with a shrug and a smile. “I mean, he asked me to bring you there. Daniel never brings just anyone to those things."

You were silent, pressing your lips together. You couldn’t — Daniel was — what? Daniel didn’t like you. Daniel was just a nice guy. That was — no. You couldn’t bring yourself to accept that fact. You had been crushing on Daniel for how long now? From before you even started working at Torro Rosso and saw a charming Australian grinning widely on the podium beside Seb. You’d always noticed Daniel. 

It was Daniel. 

Daniel remembers all too well the first time he really noticed you.

You had been walking by yourself in the Paddock. It had been a windy day and your hair, curls and all, were blowing from the wind. Music had been playing from the headphones Daniel had kept over his ears during the trip to Paddock.

Now, as he watched you, two things happened simultaneously.

Alex Turner’s voice fills his ears with the lyric: “I’m not the kind of fool whose gonna sit and sing to you about stars, girl.”

His brain buzzes with a sole thought passing through his mind: 'God, she’s beautiful.' 

He blinked and pulled down his headphones. Someone called out your name and you turned to look and see that new Torro Rosso kid bounding up to you. Daniel pulled his headphones back up and shook his head. You were in the uniform so he could easily find you later and talk to you but - nah. What would that achieve? If he was going to approach you, it wasn’t to just be mates. He would want your number. He would want - what? A quick fuck? That wasn't uncommon in the Paddock but that could also get messy if you worked in Red Bull's junior team. He didn't know what you'd be like.

All he knew was that you were beautiful.

Maybe that’s why Daniel didn’t know how to act around you. He was nice, perfectly polite. He would joke around - as he did with everyone. But inside he considered the bonus points for every time his jokes brought you to tears. Because he was always secretly waiting to see if you would laugh or not. 

Daniel joined you and Max for track walks, he got you a coffee every so often, sprayed the champagne directly at you when he won. Then he give you a big hug as everyone rushed to congratulate him. And he would count the seconds where your arm was around him. He basked in that. He liked hugging you. 

But he never asked for your number. He didn’t hit follow when he finally found your Instagram. Which was surprising considering how close you two seemed, how well he got along with you and enjoyed your company. 

“Ah, my phone died. Daniel can you call Y/N? And tell her to bring Max with her.” Christian said, sighing at his dead phone that he set on the table. You and Max were late for a briefing meeting. 

“Oh, I don’t have her number.” Daniel said. Some people looked at him. Even Christian Horner frowned in surprise. 

“What? Oh, uh. Okay. Angela can you try?”

“Sure thing.” 

Daniel wasn’t even sure how he got your number. Probably needing to call you for something and Max gave him the number. Or it very well could’ve been Christian giving it to him. Either way, your name was saved in his phone without much intention.

Because he didn’t have any. He couldn’t. 

As always, there was just that something missing. He had something missing.

But he liked spending time with you. He liked seeing you rip into Max for not following the routine you’d planned for him. He liked seeing you talk soccer so enthusiastically with Guenther Steiner or that Spanish Toro Rosso kid. He liked how nice you were to hospitality workers and kids. He liked how knew cars and even managed to fix the temperamental engine in his own car once or twice. He liked that you never got starstruck and were honest and straightforward and that the gym was your safe spot. He liked how you wore your hair with a bandana — even if meant you often got in trouble with Christian for the 'creative liberties' you took with the Red Bull uniform. And he really liked seeing you in a hoodie. He knew you often wore them outside F1. 

All your interactions had been through Formula 1. Daniel thought about it for five seconds before dropping a message in the group chat during the winter break. 

Catch up in the beach villa. 

Then he dialled Max’s number. “Hey Max! Are you free this weekend? We’re planning on having a bonfire, you should come.” Then Daniel paused and added, “And, hey, bring Y/N with you.”

It was only a few weeks later that Max finally just asked him the question.

“Why don’t you just date her?” Max said as Daniel watched you talk to that Spanish junior, Carlos Sainz, about some soccer team you both liked. Daniel knew Max’s old teammate had a thing for you but Daniel wasn’t worried. Carlos would’ve made a move by now if he had the balls. Then again, Max’s question pointed out the very same thing about him. 

“What?” Daniel asked and then grinned when Max gave him a pointed look. “Ah, Maxie. You’re too young to understand love.”

“I understand that Charles is debuting soon.”

“And?” Daniel asked, puffing his chest. He knew briefly of your connection to another driver, some rich Monaco guy called Charles Leclerc. But you’d always spoken of him like he was your brother. You referred to him as ‘bro.’ From how he understood it, Charles was to you like Blake was to him. Best friends that grew up together. 

Evidently not, according to Max. “And I have seen the way Charles looks at her.”

“Yeah?” Daniel said, staring at how Max’s race engineer, GP, called you over and Carlos watched you walk off. Did you not notice this? Carlos was literally all over you. 

“Yeah. It’s similar to how you look at her.” Max said with a huff. Daniel considered this and suddenly looked away from Carlos to stare at his own two feet - and the fancy sneakers you had bought him.

“Look, you like her, yes?” Daniel looked up at Max who was watching him, expectant. He nodded. “So what’s the issue? I said it before - you both cut from the same cloth. And I say that when her and Charles grew up together. You and her have something… you’re the same.” 

You reappeared with GP beside you, papers in hand that he was clearly reading aloud to you as he gestured to Max’s car ahead of the upcoming race in Germany. You were nodding but then looked up and caught both him and Max looking at you. You smiled widely at them, at him. 

From outside the garage, the wind blew, the papers and your hair rustling.

“I’m not the kind of fool whose gonna sit and sing to you about stars, girl…

Daniel stared at you. He liked you. He really, really liked you. And Max had a point. 

… But last night I looked up into the dark half of the blue. And they'd gone backwards.”

“Alright, deal.” Daniel said, looking at Max. “If we win today, I’ll make a move.” 

“Daniel said that he told Max, ‘If we win today, I’ll make a move.’” You said, looking at the young woman with the notebook in the chair in front of you, “He always liked to leave things to chance and stuff. But, he didn’t win. He came second. Maybe that’s why it failed. Bad luck because he didn’t actually win.” You shifted in your seat, the used tissue in your hands half ripped to shreds. 

“Is it not considered a win if they are on the podium?” Your therapist asked, not very aware of the ins and outs of Formula 1. 

“No, only if you come first.” You explained. “Then it’s a win. In Hockenheimring, Lewis won. Daniel came second and Max was third.” 

Louise, your helpful therapist, jumped in. “But Daniel did say we. So I don't think it mattered much who was first or not."

“So then why would he start something if…” You stopped and found the lump in your throat growing again. You looked down at the tissue that was too ripped up to be of much use. Even with your eyes blurring, you still saw Louise push the tissue box over to you. 

“I think that’s the current problem. It’s not very helpful in your state to go down these rabbit holes of if thinking. Because then we can start hypothesising this and that and you’ll fall into more downward spirals.” Louise said. “Any time a thought begins with ‘if’ I want you to try and practice what we said before about curbing those thoughts.”

If. 

It was something you thought about a lot. 

If, in late July 2016, at the Hockenheimring, Daniel and Max didn’t get on the podium. What would’ve happened then? Would you have still have had the tears in your eyes, feeling like you literally burst from happiness? Would you have stared up at Max filled with love and fondness for the boy who was starting to break through all his past hurt and make it. Seeing Max’s hard work finally pay off and placing on the podium had set you off. 

And he was on the podium alongside Daniel. 

Daniel who had somehow wormed his way deeper and deeper into your heart with every passing day. Christian Horner had even waived the family exception of your contract for Daniel because there was no way he couldn’t. You and Daniel were attached at the hip - even beyond the scope of you training his teammate. 

He had starting joining you in your personal workouts - and now was your workout buddy. He had built up a habit of always asking whoever was sat next to you on the plane to switch. To the point that just last weekend Taylor, a nice PR lady, saw Daniel walk in and immediately started unbuckling her seatbelt to move for him. 

Not Max - him. 

You went for coffee runs during your break with him, not Max. You complained about your day to him, not Max. You wore his DR3 merch, not Max’s. And even though Max was yet to release any of his own branded merch, there was no denying it. 

You fell asleep to Daniel’s voice, not Max’s, sounding through your phone after your call duration ticked over the 2:00:00 mark. 

There was always the nagging thought, though. What are we? Where are we going? Daniel had made it clear many times before that he wasn’t looking for a serious relationship, not at all thinking himself mature for those responsibilities. 

But then he would send you pictures of him with his nieces and nephews. But then you would spend two hours on the phone even after being around each other all day. But then he would fall asleep on your shoulder half way through the movie - and you didn’t have the heart to get him to move. And so you slept beside him. 

You had grown up with the Leclerc boys, all of whom you were super close with. And if you got married tomorrow, you would probably get Max to be your Man of Honour. Being friends with boys was not exactly knew to you. 

With Daniel, it was different. From the very first bonfire, you knew it was different. Hanging out with him was different. You did and said things you didn’t share with just anyone. 

You shared your thoughts, your dreams. You told him how your missed your father and still hated your mother. You told him about the bullying. You told him about the feeling of hollowness you sometimes felt - and the fear that it would never go away. 

“You… you actually make it go away. I never feel it when I’m around you.”

“Then I just need to always be around you, huh.”

Daniel had come 2nd and Max 3rd. You still congratulated Lewis’ 1st place but you were more excited to see your boys and celebrate accordingly. You couldn’t contain yourself seeing them spray the champagne. Your phone was out, snapping as many pictures as possible. In that moment, you felt pure joy. Looking up at them, at your boys, you wanted the moment to never end. 

Daniel then leaned into Max and whispered something. He pointed down, down at you. Max followed his hand and suddenly both the Red Bull drivers were looking at you and spraying their champagne directly at you. The people around you cheered and your name was called out amongst all the ruckus of the celebrations. 

Everything after that race passed by as a blur. You couldn’t even tell Louise how it happened. The boys had to go to the cooldown room and then the media with the post-race briefing. However, in amidst all of that, you managed to see Daniel. 

Still in his race suit, the top half hanging off his hips and his entire body and hair drenched in sweat. Your face lit up seeing him walk towards you. 

“Hey, there you are! Wait, aren’t you supposed to be in media? Where’s Max — “

Daniel didn’t even say anything. He just grabbed you and wrapped his arms around you to press his lips against yours. When he eventually pulled back to rest his head on yours, he said something that set you off. 

“Okay, what now?”

You should’ve known. You really, really should’ve known back then. It wasn’t even the wishful if thinking. You just should’ve seen it coming when he was asking you what the next move was. 

But back then, you were too dumb to know better. Back then, you were still trying to process the kiss, let alone his words. Back then, all you wanted to do was kiss him again. 

And so you did. 

Being with Daniel reminded you of one key factor - you either loved or hated him. You couldn’t be indifferent to the guy. He was not to be taken lightly. And much like he was not to be taken light, he also himself did not take things lightly. 

When he laughed, Daniel laughed with his whole body. 

When he cried, Daniel let the sobs wreck through his whole entire being. 

No one saw that, though. Daniel never let anyone get close to that side of him. You had come close, but he always still held you at arms length. Even in the peak of everything, when the sun was shining and the flowers smelt sweet and you two were in the utter bliss of the honeymoon period… he always had a part of him that he didn’t let anyone get to. Not even you. 

You had tried. Many times. But he wouldn’t. 

He would just smile, shake his head and say he was “wired that way.” Then he would shut you off and you would be left to try and pick up the pieces until the door slowly fell ajar once more. 

Because you loved Daniel. You loved Daniel with your whole being. And if all he could give you were these pieces… then surely it would be enough? You loved him, and Daniel loved you. 

He loved you in how he arrived to work every day with your coffee order “extra hot so it’s still nice and warm for you.” He loved you in how he spent the time every night doing your rehab with you after the foot injury. He loved you in the goofy selfies he sneakily took on your phone for you to later find, in the hoodies he bought as “joint custody for me and you.” He loved you in the lyrics he would randomly text you of songs he thought you might like or that reminded him of you.  

He also loved you in how he was always driving you anywhere and everywhere. In the three years you were with Daniel, you probably needed your license once. And that was for the time you had to pick him up from the airport - flowers and sign abandoned on the floor when you saw him walk through the gate and you rushed and jumped into his arms.

He loved you in all of this. He just never said the words to you. 

But that was fine because you still had him. You had the Daniel who ran on the treadmill beside you, who stopped by Max’s side of the garage to give you a hug and a coffee, who cracked jokes when you were stressed and made you feel seen. Any time you felt yourself floating away, Daniel was right there to ground you, the asthma puffer to make you smile and breathe.

So, for a while, you managed to live in bliss. 

Even with all teammate drama, it worked. Somehow. Sometimes you needed to step in between the two highly competitive men and remind them of how they were friends. Occasionally you might use the ‘it’s hurting me’ card which wasn’t the biggest lie. Max was like a brother to you and Daniel - Daniel made you start thinking about guest lists and buying property. The entirety of 2016 and 2017 was marked with such joy from the fact that you had your best-friend and boyfriend always beside you. 

The late night car rides where you and Daniel argued about music. Or the late night Fifa championships where you and Max argued about football. Or, your personal favourite, the early morning meetings where you all three took the piss with an exasperated Christian Horner.

In short, you felt yourself finally making a family for yourself. This wasn’t yo, an added extension of the Leclerc family - this was you and what you had built for yourself.

In fact, you were starting to feel that your world and Daniel’s were becoming all the more closer. Tommy called you every so often for girl advice, Blake and you sending each other gym memes and Corey needing your help to buy Daniel a birthday present. It seemed like the years of loneliness was starting to pay off and God was finally giving you what you had spent so long wishing for. 

Of course, nothing stays the same. The one certainty about life is that everything changes. 

It happened during the Hungary Grand Prix. You had gotten a call from Pascale about a family friend’s upcoming wedding. You had received the invitation from the bride herself not too long after that in a group chat with you, her fiancé and Charles. You four had all gone to school together anyway. 

Her wedding was just over a year away but she wanted to know RSVP’s ASAP because it was happening Monaco and she needed to plan around the Grand Prix. Such was life. 

Not thinking much about it, you told Daniel.

“Oh, yeah sure. May - wait, that’s like… next year?” He said, pausing what he was doing on his phone to stare at you, confused. 

“Yeah. She needs to know responses because I think she’s planning to have it close to the Grand Prix so the venue needs numbers now.” You explained. “But it’ll be nice since you’ll be there anyway and you can finally meet Charles and the Leclercs properly. I can show you where I grew up and - “

“Uh, I mean. Babe, that’s kind of far away.” Your enthusiasm slowly died seeing the tells of Daniel slipping away slightly. He brought his hood up and went back to his phone. 

“Ah… yeah.” You said. For some reason, that feeling was coming back. Panic. Stress. Unease. You tried to play it off. “I can… go with Charles, if you don’t think you can make it.” 

“No. Fuck that I’m your… Charles can - no.” Daniel shook his head. “Look can we just…” He let out an exhale and sat on the hotel bed and pulled up a pillow behind him. “What do you wanna do for dinner?”

“I - “ You tried to think of answer but food was the furthest thing on your mind. You looked down at your phone and Charles’ response to the save the date chat. 

Felicitations ! Of course I will be there with my family !

You knew you had to respond but hated that you couldn’t send your own message with the same level of surety. Will you be there? And with Daniel? The bride was asking how many plus ons to pass the number of heads to the venue. Charles had made it clear. You - not so much. 

“I need to know Daniel.” You said, feeling a bit fed up of not being able to be sure of things with Daniel. “She’s asking me for numbers. Do I put you down or not?”

Daniel let out of very heavy sigh. "Does this really matter right now?"

“Yes it does.” You stuck to your gun. “I mean, what’s the problem? That it’s in a years time?”

“I’m not having this conversation.” He immediately dismissed and went to fluff the pillow, hitting it with a little too much force. 

“Well I want to have it. What’s the problem?” You asked, coming round to stand in front of where he was sitting. “You literally couldn’t even say it before.”

“Say what?”

“Boyfriend. When I said I can go with Charles you said ‘No, fuck that I’m... ’ and then trailed off. Like you always do.”

“I don’t always trail off.”

“Yes, you do! I mean, we’ve been together for how many months and we’ve never even had the conversation about it being official.”

“Are you being serious right now?” Daniel said with a dry laugh. “Seriously? Are we fourteen and kissing in a tree also?”

You frowned and felt the hurt wash over you. It was one thing for him to not understand but to make a joke about it. You clenched your hands into fists, the nails digging into your palms. “Daniel.” You said, trying to be calm. “It feels, to me, like you’re scared to fucking commit.”

“Oh for fuck's sake, babe! What? Because I don’t know if I can make it to a fucking wedding in a year!” Daniel yelled back. He then pushed himself off the bed. “Fuck this, I’m going out.”

“Daniel! We’re talking.”

“Yeah? I’m done talking.” 

The door slammed on his way out. Daniel didn’t come back to the hotel room. Around 3am you texted Max to see if Daniel had gone there instead. 

No, he’s not with me.  Are you okay? Did something happen?

You didn’t respond. You just continued to cry in the pillows of the too large hotel bed. They still smelled like him. 

Max swore it was not because of you. 

But then you saw how cold he’d been to Daniel all weekend. But then you saw the crash on the opening lap.

Max cared about you, and seeing you cry about Daniel pissed him off. 

You heard Daniel swearing on the radio as he spun out of the race. Thankfully, he recovered to 6th, his original starting position behind Max, who also originally started 5th. All in all, it could’ve been much worse. Still, everyone in the garage was fuming. A few members gave you the side eye, knowing your relationship between the two of them. You couldn’t even be mad at the “trouble in paradise” comments because, well, they were true.

You went to Daniel’s driver room and let yourself in. 

“I said don’t bother me for — oh.”

“Hi.” You said, closing the door behind you. You went to him and kneeled down on the ground to bring yourself eye level to him. 

“Shouldn’t you be with your driver?” He asked, not meeting your eyes. 

You took a breath, ignoring it and letting him just let it out. Instead, you forced a smile on your face and look at him with gentle eyes. “I’m with my boyfriend.”

“I can’t say that word, remember?” His voice was sardonic and you rolled your eyes. 

"Can we stop it with the dumb shit?" You said and lifted a hand to his face. "None of that matters right now."

"I thought it did."

"Daniel." You exhaled. "Where do I go home to?"

"What?" He frowned and gave you a confused look that bordered on annoyance. You ignored it and repeated your question.

"Home. Where is it?"

He frowned. "Fucking Monaco? I don't know."

"True. I go to Monaco and dump my bags at your doorway, kick off my shoes by your mat and raid your fridge. Every track, I leave Max's garage and go to your hotel room. You're home. That's all the matters."

Daniel's face changed at your words. Gone were the tells of anger and now you saw something that hurt a little more - the sadness. Daniel being sad felt unnatural. To see the happy-go-lucky boy do anything but smile felt wrong.

"This weekend has been a shit run. Not just on track. But don't think that means I'm not still by you."

Daniel's eyes welled. He put a hand over yours. "Fuck, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

You weren't sure what he was sorry for. So you ignored it. And you smiled at him. "It's okay. I'm here. And I love you."

He didn't say it back. But he hugged you. And for that moment, it was enough.

After a while, a new pattern emerged between you two. 

You and Daniel would be good. In fact, you would get closer and closer. He would get a tattoo of something that symbolised you. You would change your emergency contact to him. You two would get so close in fact that you would continue to be deluded that everything was fine and that you were both on the same page of where you would both heading. 

Then something like your friend's wedding would happen. 

Daniel doesn’t politely reject the advances of the model hitting on him at some PR event. Or he ignores you for most of said PR event. He goes on a three day fishing trip without telling you about it. He gets mad that you planned a week in Hawaii for summer break without telling him.

He doesn’t say I love you back. 

Not that he ever did. It was the common recurrence. But sometimes his lack of response to the three words hurt you more than others. Especially because you would say them hoping that that time would be enough for him to say it. Because you needed to hear him say it. Just once. 

Maybe if he said it, you would’ve been fine. If he said it, then you wouldn’t feel the need to say it less. If he said it, you wouldn’t get hurt when he declined moving in together, when he made up an excuse as to why he couldn't go for dinner with Pascale and the Leclercs.

If he said it, you wouldn’t get mad when he left you at a party to hang out with Heidi Klum or some other Victoria Secret model. If he said it, you wouldn’t find yourself stressing between the hours of 11pm to 3am when he didn’t answer his phone and no one seemed to know where he was. 

You and Daniel would be good, great even. 

Then someone would happen that made you need to bring up the future, the reality of you and him. 

Daniel would then freak out and close himself off. This would end up in an argument. 

And then he would disappear and leave you for the night. Maybe a whole day if it was really bad. 

But he would come home and you would make up and things would seem better, stronger even, as you both got closer. He would get another tattoo, burn you an actual CD mix of songs and whisper sweet nothings in your ear. 

Looking back, that should’ve been the part that made you end it. The toxic cycle you had found yourself in with Daniel was not helping anyone. It was dangerous and damaging and even Max was getting sick of it. “I said you were both cut from the same cloth but I also said Daniel needed to grow up a little bit.” 

Because Daniel wasn’t ready to stop having fun. That fact never became more apparent than it did when it came to the 2018 Monaco Grand Prix. 

And if Max was starting to get tired of you and Daniel, then Charles was beyond over it. 

“Where’s Daniel?” Charles blue/green eyes shone in the sun as he helped unhaul your bags from the taxi. 

“He’s coming later. Apparently, there’s a yacht party. Don’t tell your mum. Pascale invited him to breakfast and I feel bad.” Charles opened his mouth and you gave him a look. “It’s impolite, I know. We just had a fight and I don’t feel like talking about it.”

“A fight about what?” Charles asked, rolling your bags into the Monaco home you and him had grown up in. And it was this very home that you and Daniel had argued about. 

You saw Monaco as a way to be at home with your family - to get your yearly haircut (yes, yearly) from Pascale and visit Hervé’s grave. But it was also time for you and Charles to hang out the house the two of your grew up in. To play Mario Kart with Arthur, workout with Lorenzo or cook dinner with Pascale. You liked to be at home with your family and take it slow. 

Whereas Daniel didn’t see Monaco as this. Instead, he was hitting up every party, every club. He was sleeping on yachts and drinking his weight in mimosas for breakfast. At first, you had accepted it, thinking that maybe that was just the Formula 1 driver life style. 

But Max never did this. And Charles had invited Lando, George and Alex over to play video games and have lunch. A lunch that was likely going to be cooked by you and Pascale. They weren’t going out clubbing or anything. And you saw Carlos Sainz up bright and early every morning when you tapped in at 6am to go the local gym.

No, it was just Daniel being Daniel who wanted to follow any sounds of heavy bass, laughter or glass clinking. Sure, he wasn’t the only person in F1 who did this - quite a few tended to - but you had hoped that now he was with you that he could give Monaco a chance to be a place of calm, a place for family. Weren't you guys growing up and sharing your lives together? Wouldn't that mean he saw Monaco for what it meant to you, and not what he always knew it to be; a hunting ground for a good party.

It didn't help that Charles was always feeding into these thoughts. Like right now when he sighed deeply and went on to say. “The boys are coming at midday.” He said, seeing your lack of response as Charles set your stuff down in the spare room that was, really, just your room. “You’re more than welcome to join.” 

“I might take a nap.” You said, looking at the bed. “Or go for a run.”

“I think Lorenzo was going to go for one.” Charles said. 

“Actually I might go by myself.” You went to unzip the bag but Charles’ hand came over to yours. You looked up at him and Charles quietly used your hand to pull you into him. He wrapped his arms around you and you tucked your head in between his shoulder and neck. 

Then, you started to cry. 

Daniel was driving beautifully.

He finished first in all three practice sessions. Come qualifying, he was one with the car and it would not at all be a surprise to anyone if he got pole position. 

Max was fairing much worse. He had crashed in FP3 and the mechanics had been unable to fix it for ready for qualifying. You knew seeing Daniel do well was only adding salt to the wound and after doing all you could, felt it best to leave Max alone in his room for now. Besides, you needed to see where Daniel finished in Qualifying. 

“Excuse me, where is the VIP section?”

“Oh, who are you?”

“Monica Richelli. I’m a friend of Daniel Ricciardo’s.” 

It was hearing his name that had you turning to look. There in front of you was perhaps one of the most beautiful women you had ever seen. And considering your time in Formula 1 and the constant parade of models back and forth, that was saying something.

However, as your time in Formula 1 had taught you, the constant parade of models back and forth was usually for one thing. Models were never just friends of someone. Everyone knew. You knew. The guest pass, the way she smiled coyly, the fact that this was Monaco.

You wanted to throw up.

Qualifying suddenly became background noise. The rest of the time in the garage you stood there unable to focus on anything else. Monica. Her name was Monica. She has beautiful blonde hair. She has great posture. You stared at the effortless way she stared at the screens with the headphones on, as if that in itself was a posed picture for a brand. Her waist was thinner than anything you could ever train yourself to get. Her fingers were long and delicate and covered with pretty gold rings. She was so pretty. You wanted to cry. You wanted to throw up. You wanted to scream and die and get rid of this feeling because why did Daniel invite some pretty girl to the Monaco Grand Prix?

Daniel got pole position. Unsurprisingly. You ignored the fact that you were not the first person he celebrated with. We need to be discrete. We've always needed to be discrete.

You ignored the way he gave her a big hug, the way Monica wrapped his arms around your boyfriend. You shook your head. Many girls had thrown themselves at Daniel. Horner had given you many apologetic looks over the years when a sponsor's daughter got too comfortable with your boyfriend and Christian nor Daniel could do much since, well, they were a sponsor's daughter.

This was just like all those times. Daniel is excited and everything's fine.

That thought became a bit more concrete in your mind when Daniel finally did come up to you. Away from the cameras, he lifted you up in his arms and screamed.

"Fucking pole baby!"

The energy had you bursting out into laughter. He pressed kisses all over your face and you felt all your anxiety melt away. This was Daniel. Your Daniel. He loved you.

Tucked away in his Driver's Room, you two could finally be. You and him. No one else. Seeing him like this, you forced all the doubts and worries of earlier out of your mind. He's a driver and he's currently competing against Max right now. Daniel's had a lot on his mind and you could excuse all the funny behaviour as Monaco stress.

"I'm proud of you." You said, grinning wide. Seeing him so happy, you could excuse it all. This... this was worth it.

"Man, I feel good. I'm feeling so good." He said, taking off his helmet. "I'm going to win this. I feel it."

"I know you will." You smiled, letting him hand you his helmet. "Just remember to keep that part in portier - "

"Daniel?"

You both turned to see a pretty head of hair peeking her head in his doorway. Your eyes grew seeing Monica there. Your stomach dropped and whatever reprieve you had felt suddenly was ripped apart as that feeling came right back.

"Oh hey Mon." He grinned. "Good to see you."

The growing ache in your chest hurt just that little bit more hearing the nickname. Mon.

"I hope I'm not interrupting." She said smiling, letting herself in through the door. Your mouth fell open at the familiarity and, well, audacity. "I just wanted to congratulate you on pole. I hear that's the secret to winning in Monaco."

"Yeah it is." Daniel laughed. Ever so cheerful, ever so happy, ever so easy-going. Completely different to how you were feeling inside.

"Oh, sorry. Is this your assistant?" Mon's eyes finally fell to you.

For a second, all the anxiety was replaced with white hot anger at the fucking gall of this bitch. "Excuse the fuck outta me - "

Daniel said your name. You stopped and looked at him. He didn't meet your eyes. Enraged, you forced yourself to bite your tongue.

"This is Max's trainer. She was just helping me out since he DNF'ed. Shall I meet you outside?"

"Yes, that sounds lovely." Mon's eyes darted to you once more before she smiled up at Daniel then she left the room.

He just got pole in Monaco. He just got pole in Monaco. He just got pole in Monaco. He just got pole in Mon -

"Who the fuck is she Daniel?"

You couldn't help yourself.

"Come on, I just got pole in Monaco."

"I know. And you just dismissed me as Max's trainer."

"That isn't the first time we've had to do this. You knew what it was going to be like dating me." Daniel argued back. His voice was clipped and, to be fair, you couldn't understand why. He had just gotten pole in Monaco and you were arguing with him about a girl. Daniel was right, there were numerous times where you two had to downplay your relationship in front of some sponsor or big name.

If anything, him doing that should just be reassuring that this was another case of some random big wig's daughter they had to appease and play the game again with.

But... you just had that feeling.

She had come into his room.

"Daniel. How does she know you?"

"Maybe because I'm a fucking Formula 1 driver and it's the fucking Monaco Grand Prix."

"Don't speak to me like that."

"Then don't be a fucking idiot." Daniel dismissed. "What do you want me to say? Why are you jumping down my throat right now about some girl? Now? When I just got pole? You're my girlfriend. Shouldn't you be celebrating with me? Not worried about some dumb shit in your head."

"It's not in my fucking head. Since when has a some sponsorship bitch come into your room? We're in Monaco and this shit doesn't even happen with Charles and - "

"Fuck's sake!" Daniel snapped. "I don't fucking need this right now!"

And then he stormed off.

And his helmet was still in your hands.

You looked down to the DR3 print and saw yourself in the reflection. You weren't sure at what point you started to cry.

The celebrations for Monaco 2018 were some of the worst days of your life.

Even after Daniel won and fell into the pool, something didn't feel right inside, in your gut. Naturally, the parties went all night long and Red Bull spared no expense. Even Max eventually got over his own shit weekend and mood and join in the festivities.

But you weren't. No amount of alcohol helped seeing your boyfriend dance with all those girls. Not that you could drink. It felt like anything you consumed might just come right back out.

Monica had been there every single second. You had to watch as she sat in his lap, as she pressed kisses on his cheek. Max was nowhere to be seen and Charles had decided to leave the parties to go spend time with the family. Something you really should be doing. But you couldn't drag yourself away from it.

It hurt, it down right fucking sucked to watch Daniel like this - completely in his element and overjoyed - and that you were in no way part of his picture.

"You should go home."

You looked to where the Spanish-lilted voice disrupted the tunnel vision you had on Daniel pouring tequila straight into Monica's mouth.

Carlos was smiling softly at you. He had a gin and tonic in his hand and was dressed in a white linen shirt. You frowned, wondering since when he looked so grown up. Like a man.

"You look like a man." Maybe you were a lot more drunk than you had thought.

His smile became slightly amused. "Maybe because I am, bella."

You smiled at the pet name and found yourself tilting your head to the side. "Did you shave?"

His amused smile turned into an all out laugh. "I did. I felt like Monaco needed a clean face."

You nodded, considering this. In hindsight, the alcohol was a blessing since you could stand here and talk to Carlos about his hair habits and have a momentary reprieve that that was the only thing your mind was processing.

Not the girl dancing on your boyfriend.

"Ricciardo doesn't deserve you."

You looked up at Carlos. He was staring at the scene you had been studying for the past two hours, ever since you had arrived. You had decided to play a toxic game with yourself where you would wait until Daniel asked about you and then you would reveal yourself. After forty five minutes of this game, you ended up at the bar wondering you were even in this relationship. If you could even call it that.

"Thanks Carlos."

"Can you let me take you home?" Carlos asked. "Please."

You blinked at this, at his gentle insistence. You knew it stemmed from pity, that he really wanted to save you from the embarrassment that was your partner going off with anyone woman right in front of you.

"Okay."

Carlos helped you up and put a gentle hand on your back as he guided you out of the club. You thought it very kind and gentlemanly of him. And whilst Carlos would pride himself on being a gentlemen, the real act of kindness was guiding you away so you wouldn't see Daniel stick his tongue down a model's throat.

Carlos' kindness, however, was short-lived. He blames himself. He had wanted to take you for the scenic route around Monaco, get your mind off of it. He bought you ice-cream and was pleased that he would be walking a now smiling you to your hotel room.

Only that you'd open your door and be met with groans and moans. Familiar groans and moans.

Daniel. With multiple women.

In the hotel room you both had shared. As you always had shared. Your home. Supposedly.

You said nothing. What could you say? You weren't exactly prepared to go in there and scream and wail about him - him -- Daniel your -

No.

You found yourself closing the door. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath.

"Please... don't tell anyone." You spoke to the man beside you.

"Bella..." He began in a soft voice.

"Please Carlos."

"Of course." He said and reached for your hand. You looked down at him reaching for your fingers, holding them oh so gently. "You've asked me to."

Carlos pressed your fingers to his lips. Your eyes watered at the kindness.

"Please don't cry about that fool."

But you did. Carlos pulled you close as your tears spilled. You weren't sure how or when but Carlos had brought you into another hotel room, one less flash and in retrospect, it had to be his. But in that moment, nothing made sense. Your attention was focused on one thing and one thing alone: Daniel didn't want you.

And so you spent the entire night crying on the bathroom floor.

And it wasn't even yours.

Charles eventually found out.

Not from Carlos. You were surprised he stuck to his word. He had reached out in the few days following Monaco but you ignored him. You just didn't - you couldn't.

It happened, again, in the bathroom. You were brushing your teeth in Charles' ensuite. He knew something was up - you were always asking what he was up to and if you could do whatever with him. Not that Charles minded but he knew you. You were avoiding something.

And if you wanted to avoid Carlos and Daniel and even Max, that was doable. But you couldn't have foresaw the text you'd get one random day.

I didn't realise you were his girlfriend. I'm sorry. He never told me.

You stared the message. Three lines. You stared at them for a good few minutes. Then came the three dots dancing. Then came the screenshots. All the screenshots. Screenshots of Daniel messaging Mon. Messages that dated all the way back before Hungary.

You had toothpaste in your mouth. You immediately spat it out. Then you went to the toilet and heaved. The sounds of vomiting must've alerted Charles because in he came and held your hair back.

You cried and cried. It all broke you again. You don't remember at what point you were verbal enough to tell Charles. Or maybe he read your phone. Nonetheless, Charles somehow figured out what happened and boy was he furious.

That had caused some commotion in the Leclerc household since Charles was all ready to grab his keys and drive to Ricciardo's place. It took Lorenzo being the calm, sensible elder to point a finger at you and ask Charles what was really important now.

"Pense à elle! Maintenant, elle est la plus importante!"

And so the t-shirt Charles had been wearing, a strippy oversized T you'd bought him one random Tuesday, became ruined from your tears. Snot, mascara, the works.

You slept in Charles' arms that night.

You woke up in Charles' arms the next morning.

You spent the day in Charles' bed.

You spent the next week in Charles' bed.

Charles went with Lorenzo to pick up your stuff from Daniel's apartment. Charles copped the earful from Pascale for punching Daniel in the face when the Australian kept probing him for information on your radio silence. Charles bought you a new phone and set it up - making sure to block Daniel's number. Charles sat through all the Top Gear reruns. Charles made sure you ate, even just a little bit. Charles organised a lawyer for you to speak to Christian Horner and Daniel Ricciardo. Charles prepared the paperwork for you to move from Red Bull to join him at Sauber and then, God hoping, Ferrari afterwards.

"Imagine it mon tresor! You and I at Ferrari. We win the Championship and you can fuck off all the idiots." You smiled at Charles who was once again doing the most to make you smile.

"Thank you Charles." You said, smiling at the beautiful boy. You were laying on his bed and Charles jumped on to land on his stomach with an oof.

He booped your nose and then rolled over to turn on the TV and cast the next Top Gear special onto the flatscreen. "Okay, Middle Eastern special. Vas-y!"

You looked at your best friend, your Charles. The break-up with Daniel was going to suck - it was sucking - but Charles made it all the more easier. Everything would get easier. 'Just give it time.' As he said. In time, you'd be working with him and not have to ever talk to Daniel Ricciardo ever again.

It's okay. You reminded yourself of this fact over and over again. Looking over at Charles, you felt some serenity. It would suck, but you knew you could live life without Daniel Ricciardo. But losing Charles? God help you, you'd probably die.

A month later, Charles left.

taglist:

@eugene-emt-roe @spookystitchery @vicurious28 @taytaylala12 @c-losur3

@hiireadstuff @samantha-chicago @fionaschicken @casperlikej @bookstore-of-dreams

@itsjustkhaos @sam-is-lost @laneyspaulding19 @formula1mount @bokutos-babyowl

@stampiej @alilcloudy @bingussthirdtoe @lilymurphy03 @inlovewmarlenemckinnon

@charllleclerc @richardniixon @sp1rl @nikfigueiredo @lozzamez3

@butterfliesflyaroundmymind @vellicora @ellen3101 @michelleyw81 @samantha-chicago

@bloodyymaryyy @a-beaverhausen @bokutos-babyowl @tsireyasgf

[miley1442111]

(part 3) choices and meetings- a.donaldson

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a/n: i imagined a fem reader but as per usual, imagine what you like :)

i'll probably do a few more parts of this because it's just so cute and sad :(

summary: the first conversation you two have after the break-up.

pairing: art donaldson x reader

warnings: angst, feelings of disappointment, hurt, allusions to an eating disorder, depression, etc. +

PART 3 of 12

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It had been 4 weeks since the break up. Both of you were miserable but you wouldn’t tell the other. There was no ‘hot guy from your science class’ that you were fucking, you just wanted to make him jealous. 

It did make him jealous. Very jealous. Just the idea of you being with someone else made his skin crawl. He’d essentially gone to every guy in that class to threaten to kill them if they even looked at you, he didn’t care if you weren’t his girlfriend anymore, he just needed some more time. He just needed you.

The only time you two interacted was during tennis sessions. You were being coached by the same person, so he made you do matches against each other. The last 4 weeks had been full of electrifying matches, often ending in Art smashing a racket or you stalking off in anger. 

But you were both playing so well. So, so well.

The matches were difficult and finally challenging. Art had never played so well, he was almost at your level, and even beat you a few times. Though, you were usually better. 

Once the rackets were packed away and you both left the court, it was like a scene in a romcom. Both of you wishing for the other, crying alone over one another, and wanting everything to be different. You regretted breaking up with him, but you knew you couldn’t take it anymore. His forgetfulness, his carelessness, his choices. He regretted breaking your heart. He missed you, your smile, your jokes, your laughs, your pretty face, your cute habits, your hands on his skin, the way you loved him, how he felt loved and wanted. Some things he’d never felt before. You were his first serious relationship, his first love, his first everything.

It came to the day of your final match against Serena O’Brien, an English tennis player. You were ready, you felt good. 

Then you looked into the crowd and saw Art, and everything went to shit. Your mind was clouded, you felt sick, you felt betrayed. Seeing him at school was one thing, that was controlled, you knew you’d see him at school. Seeing him here? Uncontrolled, unknown, and unfair.

You set your sights on the ball. The match started. 

------------------------------------------------------------------------------ “That was some real tennis!” Your coach shouted, ecstatic at your win. The match was hard fought but she didn’t exactly have a chance, not when you were imagining the ball as Art’s face. 

“Thanks,” you smiled, though there was no happiness behind it, no pride in your win. Art walked onto the court behind him, an apologetic smile on his face. Art had noticed your changing habits in recent weeks as he tried to win you back. You were more irritable, less ‘there’, you ate less, you trained more, you stopped doing some of the things you actually enjoyed, like the literature class you just sat in on every Tuesday afternoon, or the cat nursery you used to volunteer at. 

But today, today he had a plan. He would speak to you, tell you he loved you and that he was sorry, then let you go. It’s what you deserved. You deserved someone who didn’t pick anyone else over you. You deserved someone as smart as you. You deserved someone as beautiful as you. You deserved someone as kind as you. You deserved someone as caring as you. You deserved an equal. Art did not see himself as equal to you. 

“That was amazing,” he smiled at you, walking onto the court. “You’re incredible.”

Your face fell. You didn’t want him to think your tennis was ‘incredible’, you wanted him to think you were incredible. “Thank you.”

“Can we talk?” He asked, itching the back of his neck and looking down.

“Sure,” you shrugged. All your anger had left the second you shut the door in his face. It was replaced by hurt and sadness. Feeling like you’re not your boyfriend’s priority is awful. Knowing who his priority actually is was worse. 

Art took your hand tentatively, and led you to the room you’d sat in before the match. He sat on a stack of boxes as you leant against the door beside him. His hand in yours made both of you reminiscent, electrified, and sad, all at the same time. His soft hands felt comfortable, familiar, right. 

Your hand in his felt blasphemous. You were so… perfect, he didn’t deserve it. He didn’t deserve this conservation, he didn’t deserve a moment of your time, yet you gave him it. He didn’t want to ruin it, 

There was a long moment of silence. 

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered as he held your hand. “I’m so, so sorry.”

“It’s ok Art, people break up-”

“We don’t. We shouldn’t have. I shouldn’t have let it happen, I love you too much for that,” he sniffled and your heart broke in two. Your boy, your sweet, kind Art was crying. 

“I’m such an idiot,” he whispered, looking down at the ground. He was trying to keep it together, but he’d never been good at hiding things when it came to you. Your thumb brushed back and forth on his skin, calming him. It made him cry all the harder, you were so caring, he’d hurt you so much, so deeply. And yet, you showed him a kindness he didn’t believe he deserved. “I’m such a fucking idiot.” 

“Art it just wasn’t working,” you sighed. “It’s alright. It’s no one’s fault.”

“It’s my fault,” He looked up at you with red-rimmed eyes, tears spilling from them. You took your hand and cupped his cheek, wiping them away. He leaned into your touch as if he'd missed it for an eternity. As if  he’d missed you for an eternity. Your hand on his cheek burned straight to his heart. Subconsciously he tried to commit the feeling to memory, in case this was the last time. “It’s all my fault.”

“You can’t beat yourself up about it. What we had was so good for so long. It just… there was too much going on, something had to give,” You bit your bottom lip to try and stop the tears falling from your eyes. The devastated expression on his face broke you. “I love you so much Art, but I’m hurt. So are you. You’ll be alright.” 

Art looked at you again and he started sobbing into your side, wrapping his arms around your waist. You looked up, attempting to preserve your composure. “I’m so sorry,” he cried into your side. “I love you so much. I love you so, so much.”

“I love you too much,” you croaked out. “You’re such a good person.”

That made Art cry harder. You still thought he was a good person after he hurt you. You still thought he deserved your love. You still loved him. You were comforting him, telling him it wasn’t his fault. It was all his fault. He was horrible to you, he was a bad boyfriend. 

“I miss you,” you whispered and his heart stopped. His plan was going awfully. You were too kind, too good for him. You should’ve hated him, yet you didn’t.

“I miss you too,” he whispered, pressing a soft kiss to your hip. 

“This sucks,” you sadly chuckled as you allowed the tears to roll down your face. 

“It does,” he whispered against you. “I’m so fucking sorry.”

“It’s alright Art. We’re still friends, we’ll take care of each other, yeah?” You looked down at him and made eye contact. 

“Promise?” He whispered, holding his pinky finger up.

“Promise,” You whispered, interlocking your fingers. “I’m always here for you.”

“I love you,” he stood up beside you, closer than he probably should’ve been. His hands wrapped around your waist and out of pure instinct, you pressed a kiss to his cheek. He tasted like salty tears. You wiped his face again, a sad smile on your face. 

“We’re here for each other,” you swore. 

“Always.”

You opened the door behind you and walked out, making it the second hardest thing you’d even done, right after breaking up with him. 

He fell back into his seat, crying silently into his hands, chest heaving, eyes spilling, throat drying. 

He just made it 1000 times worse for himself, and you.

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art donaldson masterlist :)

navigation for my blog :) (criminal minds, obx, the bear, marvel, top gun, the hunger games, challengers :)

[deepspaceebabe]

Anything you can spare (Caleb x reader/MC)

TAGS/WARNINGS: Heavy Makeout?, 18+, no proofreading (I'm lazy it's 3am)

SYNOPSIS: A blurb about Caleb Making out with you

It's quiet and still in your apartment in Linkon. Caleb had made time to visit you after coming up with a new recipe to try with you. You both are cleaning up the dishes at the sink after the meal. It's times like this when it doesn't feel like it used to with him. Like how it felt when you were both snotty kids, and you didnt understand how it felt to want Caleb in ways that you hadn't before. The silence and atmosphere is cloaked with the anticipation of a kiss. Without the noise of everything else, your desires are louder than ever. When there isn't anything to joke about, or any memories of the past to bring up. The silence breeds desire for you. As you both finish up the final dish, you look up at him and smile. "Thanks for making dinner AND helped clean up. You really know how to win a girl over, " you say kindly with a laugh. He smiles with you. "Well, you know you're the only girl I'd want to win over anyways," he says, not breaking that smile, looking at you with those kind eyes.

You look into his eyes and can feel your heartbeat in your ears. Your breathing becomes heavy with want. Caleb seems equally as worked up as you. The anticipation reminded you of your time at the skyhaven Amusement Park, where the line between you two became blurred. That dare was a gateway drug, the idea that he would of kissed you on that train had you reeling for many nights. Here in this moment, the scene plays out for what seems like an eternity before Caleb seems to steel himself. He closes his eyes harshly and takes a breath, turning back towards the sink."Pip, I-" he starts, but you don't let him finish. Tugging his arm down, you finally smash your lips against his in a fever of lust. Right or wrong, nothing mattered but the weight of his tounge in your mouth. The feel of his hot hand in yours grounds you and tethers you to this moment. This was real, and you were kissing the object of your desires, the ultimate sin. He kisses back almost immediately, his hands finding your hips as he deepens the kiss. Slight moans come from him as you hold the sides of his face, your tongue dancing with his. "Fuck" he whispers against your lips briefly before moving back in, desperate for anything you'll give him. He grabs your thighs, hoisting you up while never breaking from the kiss. You wrap your legs around his hips and your arms around his neck, trying to taste even more of him. You want to devour him, take everything that he'll give you, and more. This small taste of this forbidden fruit is already addictive. He tastes like honey on your tounge, his touch is warm and familiar and everything you could of dreamed of. Caleb moves to the counter and sets you down, slotting himself between your legs as the kiss continues. He moans desperately as you thread your fingers through his hair and grind into him. The lack of oxygen has finally won over your lust as you break for air. You finally take a look at the boy you've known all your life. The deepest blush is set on his face, his beautiful amethyst eyes are hooded as his hair is beyond tousled. His breathing is heavy and desperate, with small moans at every breath. "Please" says quiet and breathless, like a small prayer. You move your hand to his cheek and she shudder at the contact, hes burning hotter by the second. "Hmm?" You hum, brain a bit too fried to give him a full answer. Caleb grabs the hand that his holding his face and leans into it, his eyes squeezing shut as if trying to ground himself. He leans in, forehead touching yours. "I want you. I want whatever you'd give me." He whispers against your lips. "Please, everything I am, everything I was and will be is yours. What can I give you? What do you want?" He pleads desperately. You feel down his clothed chest as he grabs at your thigh. "All of you, everything. Anything you can spare." You whisper back.

A/N: hi sorry I haven't ever written something like this smutty (ik it's pretty tame) I just want to make out with this boy so bad 😭😭 but yeah I hope yall like it!

Edit: I added to it, made it sound a bit better :>

[wanderlust-in-my-soul]

Hi, just curious. What's your 10 or 20 fave BL kisses from bl series/dramas/web series you've watched or are watching, if you have any?

Hey Anon,

I don't know if you remember this ask, it has been sitting in my inbox for a while now. Sorry for the late reply!

And of course I have favorite kisses. I love a good kiss. In my definition of a good kiss, it doesn't need to be the perfect angle or the perfect "lip-touching", I don't know, people rate such scenes differently. For me it is more about the emotions I could feel during that kiss, the build-up or if there is a special detail that really catches my breath. I guess you'll understand, what I mean when you see my choices.

This is not a ranking! It is in alphabetical order, not just because I don't want to rank them, but because I am lazy.

Bad Buddy

The iconic rooftop kiss. The whole build-up was perfect. The tears? The first short kiss followed by this gorgeous kiss filled with all the emotions one person can feel? What is not to like about this kiss!?

Be My Favorite

I was very protective of these two and especially Krist. People were saying, he can't kiss other man because he is homophobic and what is this then? Yes, I remember Sotus. The kisses were.. not good, but I gave Be My Favorite a chance and this kiss was so soft and so full of love and tenderness. I really enjoyed this whole scene a lot! And Kris can kiss.

Boys Be Brave!

This kiss came as a big surprise for me. It is Jinwoo trying to hide from Kisub and the letter finding him what leads to this quiet and beautiful first kiss. I loved everything about it!

Ghost Host, Ghost House

All of there kisses were so good! But I loved the teasing and the chasing in this scene especially. Those two have incredible good chemistry and I wish we could see more of them.

History 3: Make Our Days Count

Oh the desperation for each other was so real in this one. Both wanted each other so bad! But what I loved the most about this whole scene was the way how Sun Bo Xiang reassured Lu Zhi Gang that he desired all of him. So good!

I Feel You Linger In The Air

The most painful and saddest kiss in bl-history! It is such a wonderful scene. Everything about it made me cry and smile at the same time. Gorgeous scene!

Jack and Joker

They finally confessed and kissed for the first time. And what a kiss this was! It left the most of us speechless and a little bit breathless. The way Jack stopped the kiss in the middle to calm Joke down a little bit and they started the kiss again so fucking tender and argh! I love it so much!!!

Love Class 2

Love Class 2 has some really good kisses, but this one was something else! It is one of the softest kisses ever. I don't know how many times I have rewatched this whole scene. Just look at them. You can feel the softness of this kiss! And there were sounds during that scene... they were something else.

Love For Love's Sake

I really didn't expect that kiss at the end of this series. I hoped for a tight hug, but hello? Those two and the script kept delivering until the very end. This was pure perfection.

Love Mechanics

Yeah, well... perhaps I am just a sucker for YinWar kissing... I don't know. But every time I see this kiss I want to live in this scene forever and I would be perfectly fine. I am just sitting here, wanting to write about this kiss and I stared at it for an unhealthy period of time and forgot everything else. That is really bad. I love that kiss so much!

My Stand-In

They had some good kisses. This was not one of them, but this specific moment, when Joe gave in to the kiss, I was blown away. He really didn't want to like this kiss, but his heart still wanted it. The emotions!

My Tooth Your Love

Every once in a while there are these cute and small kisses, so ordinary and overlooked. I think these are very important to portrait a good and real relationship. Because kisses don't need to be these big moments in slow-motion and with different angles. Yes, those are nice, but I really adore those "small" ones that show the love between the characters.

Perfect Propose

The reason I picked this scene is because of the build-up. Hirokuni asked Kai not to call him Hiro, but Kai just ignored him and breathed Hiro and followed with this passionate kiss and I was just in awe.

Sing My Crush

I was absolutely not expecting this kiss! I thought we got this dead-fish-kiss and that would be it. I would have love the series nevertheless, but this scene? Damn, Korea! Such a good kiss!

The Heart Killers

I don't think those two are the best kissers in the industry. I think they have some good chemistry without a doubt. But this kiss. This moment here. It was everything for me. I can feel Style's hand on Fadel's head. I can feel it. And I love it! I am not normal about this scene! Everything about these few seconds brings me so much joy. The look on Fadel's face, the hand and everything that happend before and followed afterwards.

The Day I Loved You

This is still one of my favorite rooftop-kisses. For me it is the way they grab each other to pull the other one close. The way they want to crawl into each other, to feel the other person everywhere. Such a perfect first kiss! Such a perfect scene.

To My Star 2

I love these small kisses. I name them "A thousand little kisses". Those kisses make me smile and so happy! There is nothing more to say about it. I love them. To My Star is just an example for many other shows out there with these little kisses.

Unknown

I loved this whole scene. But this segment of the kiss, this little dance of them, is so good. I can't tell you how many times I just watched this specific scene. How easy Yuan maneuvered Qian around to close the door. How they kept kissing. I... I... nope. There are no words in my head anymore.

Well, these are a few of my favorite kisses. There are more, but I guess this list is long enough. I hope you like my little selection :) I wish you a wonderful day!

[recreationalfanfics]

Yandere Vixen/Mari McCabe x Fem! Reader

Author's Note: MY WIFEEEE. I lied ya'll, Mari was actually my first female hero love. This scene of her and the one where she's staring at John when he aims his ring at her changed my brain chemistry.

Warning: Suggestive themes/mentions of sex/yandere behavior obviously.

- Mari would be such a charismatic yandere, she knows how to hide her fangs from her pretty little darling so she doesn't accidentally scare them off. In fact, she'd be really hard to pin down as a yandere because she'd already have her darling wrapped around her finger completely with just her charm, wit, and beauty alone.

- I don't really see her as being a jealous yandere because, like, she's a successful business woman and famous model. Not in a conceited or arrogant way but she knows her darling puts her on a pedestal, so she can only laugh when others dare to try and sway her darling away from her. However she is protective of what's hers. Territorial. She won't outright kill people because being so renowned comes with its limitations but in general, her moral compass (although corrupt) could never allow her to do so. Scaring them off with her power and influence, however? That's more up her alley.

- Leaving lipstick kisses upon your skin and "accidentally" forgetting to remind you to get rid of them. Accidentally "forgetting" her designer bags, earrings, and jewelry at your home so that everyone that enters at least know that you two are very "close friends", and constantly cuddling next to you during stuffy galas and events while draping her arms around you to keep her close and nearby. Whispering sweet nothings in your ears and making you giggle and blush so hard while she sends a smirk at the person who tried to take you away from her. A reminder that they can never have you because Mari has worked hard to become the only apple of your eye.

- In current canon, she does design her own clothes so you becoming her muse in her future designs. No matter your body type, she'd absolutely adore every part of you. Her designs are lovingly drawn with all of your curves in her mind, she bites her lip as her fingers delicately run over the fabric to smooth it out over the mannequin because she knows the color would look absolutely perfect on you. If you ever complain about ill-fitting clothes or want to improve your outfits, don't worry your cute little head about it♡ Mari will be more than happy to do so, especially because it gives her an opportunity to see what kind of clothes you like, and what style preferences you have♡

- The reason why Mari is so obsessed with you is because you make her feel safe. She may protect people but whose there to protect her? She was forced to leave her home, her romances have ended in either tragedy or failure (B'wana Beast fucking dying, her and Bronze Tiger not working out, and John Stewart being a HOMEWRECKER/j), but despite all of that, she stayed strong and never let it get in the way of her duties as a hero.

- But then you came into her life. You became her friend and close confidant. She told you everything and you were so...kind, compassionate. You put your hand over hers and told her how much you admired her for being so strong...but that you also felt so bad that she had no one to lean on, no one she felt that she could depend on, that she always had to be the one to keep the brave face. Maybe its because you understood what it was like to feel that way, maybe it was out of extreme empathy but you smiled up at her.

- "Mari, I might not be able to fly or save the world like you do, but....I want to be there for you. I admire you, not just for your strength or your bravery, but because your heart is so big and has gone through so much. Please, let me help you the same way you help everyone else!"

- And once she felt her heart skip a beat, she realized that she could never let you go. Because she finally had someone who she could come home to, someone who she felt safe enough to not be Vixen or renowned supermodel/ fashion designer. But Mari McCabe, the woman who helps people because she wasn't able to help the ones she loved. But not you, she'll be ready this time.

- After all, she's not oblivious to the risks of what happens to civilians who date heroes. She's seen it again and again with her coworkers and friends. So while she won't kill villains, she will give them a message they will never forget. Scratch it into their minds with her perfectly manicured and sharp nails that you are not be touched and that she will happily give them reasons not too.

- She really isn't that bad of a yandere. She would love to spoil you but she would have enough empathy to not straight up rob you of your independence. Not to mention that unlike traditional yanderes who want to lock their darlings away, Mari would love to flaunt you at her side. Showing you off in cute outfits that she bought/made you herself, taking you with her to different countries where she has a photoshoot at so you two can make a vacation of it, and having everyone gawk at you and her the moment you two walk into the room knowing they can look at you but they can't touch.

- She tries her best to keep you out of her work but if you notice her stressed or upset, you beg her for the chance to make her feel better. That can either mean having a nice relaxing bath with rose petals and soothing salts with her, massaging her tense muscles and aching body from a hard night of fighting and acrobatics, or maybe something a bit more physical. Maybe even all three. Either way, it will always end with her using her fingers to draw various shapes and patterns on your bare skin as she purrs softly into your comforting kisses and sweet praise. Her grip on you tightening and a small playful whine pulled from her lips whenever you stop for even a second.

- SHE WOULD TOTALLY RECOGNIZE YOU FROM SCENT ALONE AS WELL and her heightened senses are HIGHLY tuned to every detail about you. When she's halfway at the door of the luxury apartment she convinced you to live with her in, she smiles at the sounds of your scurrying feet as you excitedly anticipate the return of your lovely girlfriend. The way that she loves to sniff your hair and during sex, would so have a thing for pressing her nose against your body and letting herself get dizzy and drunk off your delicious scent♡ She savors every touch and intimate moment you two share like a fine meal, worshipping every part of your body and letting you do the same to hers, she will have every aspect of you memorized like the back of her hand.

- When she feels insecure or unconfident, she needs you. She lays her head on your lap and wants you to tell her that it will all be better. As prideful of a woman as she is, she can't deny the fact that she feels herself get soft around you. But that doesn't make you her weakness. Quite the opposite actually. Because even when the odds are against her, even when it seems like the villains have the upper hand, Mari will keep pressing on. Her urge to fight and protect stronger than ever and its all because of you. She fights so hard to get back home to you, she will gladly take every hit and injury if it means you'll be back home to kiss it better. She refuses to go down because you'll be by yourself, your beautiful eyes teary eyed, and your poor sweet heart broken because of her. The thought alone drives her insane with determination and anger because Mari will always be there to wipe away your tears, just like you have hers, and she will push herself above and beyond to get back to you.

- In terms of her being aware of her own yandere tendencies, she is aware that the feelings she has for you are wrong. That her dark thoughts aren't the normal jealous/possessiveness that people typically feel for their partners. But she will also justify to herself that its for your own good and besides...you love her, right? You'd totally accept her and the ugly side of her affections but there's no need to reveal all of that to you now. Instead just focus on her distractions and flirtations.

- Because they keep you from seeing that you foolishly wandered into the lioness's den and that there's no way to escape it now♡

[bnnysweets]

SOUL TIES

abby anderson x brazilian!reader

author’s note: english is not my first language! this fic has some portuguese lines but i translated everything!

warnings: none! pure fluff. reader’s gender is unspecified. reader have a great relationship with their entire family. aunts drooling over abby. abby and reader are truly in love.

“relax baby” you looked at abby one more time before press the doorbell, she was sweating so much you could see the little drops on her neck, “they’ll love you” you assured her and right after your mom opened the door. “oi meu bem! que saudades” (hi my love! i missed you), you hugged her with so much joy, the last time you have seen her it was 4 years ago, before you legally moved to usa, “essa é a abby? meu deus ela é muito grande!” (this is abby? oh my good she’s so big!) you laughed and nodded, “sim mãe, ela é a minha namorada” (yes mom, she is my girlfriend), your mom hugged abby and said with a strong accent “you’re so pretty! my daughter really have taste”, abby instantly felt relieved and a smile emerged on her beautiful face.

when you both got inside the pagode was loud, the smell of meat and garlic bread filled your nostrils, and your cousins laughs were loud with pure joy, you felt in home. it’s not like you didn’t have one, but nothing else compares to that, to speak your mother tongue, to eat traditional foods, to feel the brazilian weather, to see your family members being so receptive with the other family you have, abby.

“meu senhor ela é a porra de tanque de guerra” (oh my lord she is a fucking war tank) your uncle said giggling, already a little drunk, and hugged both of you, “vocês formam um casal lindo” (you make such a pretty couple). you were so happy, after many years of being away of your family you were back! and without any fights about how chose to live your life, abby noticed how you haven’t stopped smiling since the arrival, she was so anxious but she finally realized how much this means to you, to show her yours roots, the people that raised you, the house you lived for your whole childhood, you were showing your world to her, the most precious thing you have.

then it happened, you left abby alone for only 6 minutes to go to the bathroom and when you came back to the living room she was in the middle of a circle formed by your aunts, they were felling her up! squeezing her arms, massaging her back, touching her neck. you approached the group but stayed a little far just to watch the scene “olha como o braço dela é duro!” (look how her arm is hard!) “não e você já sentiu as costas dela? parece uma mesa” (did you felt her back? it’s like a table), your aunts were really impressed by her body, she was laughing so hard and mumbling littles “obrigada” (thank you) with a hard accent but full of eagerness to learn, to talk, to listen, to understand. your chest was filled with pride.

abby was loving meeting your culture, she even made 3 months of duolingo just to understand some things and even dared to say sometimes. when the afternoon came your aunts were preparing a little snack, they made cheese bread just because abby never had ate one from brazil, and after everybody was in the table, everyone was looking to abby taking the first bite “this is so much better than the one we eat there! i was fooled this whole time!” she said and you translated to everybody and your mom and you auntie highfived, your teenager cousin was determined to tease your girlfriend and asked “can you say pão de queijo?” (cheese bread) abby said all confident “pau de queijo” and room was contaminated with loud laughters because the way she pronounced it the brazilians understood “dick of cheese”.

you both said your goodbyes and were in the car going to the hotel, she was driving silently when she grabbed your hand and kissed it while still looking at the street “thank you for today, for trusting me and for letting me be part of your life, of something so important to you, thank you baby” she said, and when you finally looked at her face she was crying, just a little, but she was crying while smiling, she couldn’t stop smiling. “don’t need to say thank you abby, you were my family for a long time, you are my family ‘till the end of times, you don’t imagine how i’m happy that today was so good, my family wasn’t always like that with me, but they welcomed you like you have our last name, this was like…wow” when you noticed you were crying too, it was so long since you cried from joy, “you’re the love of my life” you said looking at her, the car stopped and you realized you were in the front of the hotel, abby got out the car and rushed to open your door, you were about to get out of the car when abby grabbed you and carried you in bride style to the lobby of the hotel while singing the outro of “you make loving fun” by fleetwood mac, you were giggling so hard and tried to sing along with her but you just couldn’t stop laughing. in that moment you were sure that abby was not only the love of your life, but the love of your soul.

dividers by @bunnysrph

[sturnioloszn]

IN LOVE WITH A CRIMINAL - C.S

summary; after almost being caught committing murder, chris reassures you that everything is fine and helps you relieve some nerves...

warnings; smut, mentions of committing a crime (murder), gun kink.

a/n; i'm lowk stepping out the comfort zone w this one, so if it's dogshit, we know why. btw, if u don't understand the relationship, chris and y/n work together as hitmen (or ig hitman and hitwoman).

I sit on the edge of the bed, leaning down to undo the straps on my black heels. I'm usually focused on how sore my feet are after wearing heels for several hours, but my mind is engrossed with one thought.

It wasn't uncommon for Chris and I to be paired together for hits; actually, we worked well as a team. But tonight didn't go as smoothly as it was meant to.

It was supposed to be a straightforward night; while I kept the ambassador distracted, Chris would take him out.

Unfortunately, my charm worked a little too well, and the ambassador wanted to "find somewhere more private," so we kept changing locations, meaning Chris couldn't take the shot easily.

We eventually managed, but the authorities were on scene immediately, which wouldn't have been the case if we had stayed at the original location. Due to this, we were almost recognised, but we fled the scene just before they could recognise us.

Yet, I can't help but feel paranoid. I know what line of work I'm in, and yes, I know the risks, but it's still an insanely scary thought. What if they saw my face? Would I have to be a fugitive? Would I have to live the rest of my life in the shadows to prevent from being seen again?

Fuck.

The sound of ammo hitting the bathroom counter snapped me out of my anxiety-ridden thoughts. I slowly stand up from the bed, stepping out of my heels and heading towards the bathroom in the hotel room.

I reach the doorway and see Chris at the countertop, he's clearing the gun that was used tonight. I lean against the door frame with my arms crossed over my chest as I watch his hands work the gun. I won't lie, Chris was hot as fuck, he had a sharp jawline and a beautiful side profile with gorgeous brown hair that fell over his forehead.

But it doesn't matter how sexy he was, there's no way anything could happen between us, especially with work. It would just get way too messy.

"Do you think they saw us?" I ask, breaking the deafening silence that was lying between us.

"No," he replies coldly. I know he was somewhat upset at me due to the fact that I couldn't keep the ambassador in one place, making his job harder.

"There were a lot of them... what if they did see our faces?" I say, now beginning to share my inner conflicts with him.

"They didn't. Stop stressing," another cold reply.

"They saw us leave though, we had to have looked suspicious, right?" I question once again. I could sense he was getting annoyed at all my questions but I really couldn't help it.

"We're fine," he huffs, as he sorts through the unused ammunition. I watch his fingers work diligently, organising everything so carefully. I wonder what else his fingers would be good at.

Fuck, I really have to stop thinking these things, because I can only blame myself for the dampness in my panties right now.

"Listen, it's not your fault, okay?" He sighs, turning his head to finally look at me. I think he feels slightly bad being so harsh on me, even though it really isn't my fault that I'm so hot.

I nod at his words, dragging my eyes to the floor to avoid eye contact. He takes a few steps towards me and places his index finger under my chin, tilting my head high enough so that our eyes could meet.

"I mean it...I'm sorry for being a dickhead," his words are soft and sincere, almost enough to make my knees crumble completely. "And no, I'm sure they didn't see us. Stop stressing your pretty little head about it,".

He's so close that I can almost hear his heartbeat, and the small touch he has on my skin is enough to burn up my entire body. There's no way he can't see the effects he has on me.

"What can I do to ease your mind, hm?" He says, moving his finger from under my chin and using his entire hand to cup the side on my face; his thumb caressing my blushed cheek softly.

"Nothing, I'm fine...I probably just need some sleep," I say. But even if I take him up on his offer, what is he really laying out on the table? Maybe I'm reading too far into this.

"Nothing? There's absolutely nothing I can do f'you?" He asks, lowering his head to my neck and planting a soft kiss there. I lean my head back, surprised by his actions.

Chris and I have been strictly colleagues, and other than the occasional flirty joke, there's not been anything else between us... until now.

"Chris..." I whisper, almost as a warning, as if someone could catch us at any moment.

"Hm," he mumbles against my neck, still peppering small kisses. I sigh and give into his touch. He feels me surrender, and he moves his hands to my curves, drinking them in with every touch.

"This dress looks so fucking good on you, y'know that?" His words are barely recognisable, so I weave my hands through his hair and tug his face away from my neck. I guide him towards my lips and it doesn't take long for him to crash his perfect, plump lips into mine.

The kiss is instantly hot, burning even, and the feel of his hands all over my body definitely doesn't help with the heat. His hands slip down to my ass, grabbing handfuls. A light gasp leaves my mouth, surprised by his direct actions.

"Can I make you feel good?" He asks, briefly pulling away from my lips. There's a look of hunger in his eyes, which makes him look even more irresistible.

"Please, Chris," I reply pathetically. By now, my panties are soaked, and we're both still fully dressed. God, what is he doing to me.

I feel him reconnect our lips and slide his hands under my ass to my thighs. I feel his arms tense, and my feet lift the ground. He places me onto the bathroom countertop, and I wrap my legs around his torso.

His hands find my hips again, but instead of stopping there, they continue downwards towards the slit in my dress. His right hand slips under my dress, and he reaches for the fabric at my hip.

He invites his left hand under the dress, too, finding the fabric on the other side of my hip. He tugs both sides down, removing my panties completely.

He looks up at me, his cold, blue eyes meet mine. I've never seen anyone with eyes as pretty as his; they really are his best feature.

"Do you trust me?" He asks, his eyes locking me in a trance. I nod, unable to get any words past my lips.

"I need you to use your words," he speaks again. If he keeps speaking like this, my composure will be out the window any minute.

"Of course I trust you, Chris," I say, wondering why he's even asking me that. He then turns and grabs the gun next to him. What is he doing?

He returns his attention back to me and slowly spreads my legs. My dress rides up, leaving me more than accessible to him.

"Fuck, look at how soaked you are and I haven't even touched you yet," he groans, and I can see the buldge in his trousers form.

He then does something that I would have never dreamed he'd do.

He took the barrel of the gun and ran it between my folds, lathering it in my fluid. The cold metal of the gun against my hot core makes me jump slightly.

"C-Chris... what are you doing?" I ask, my breathing getting shallower.

"Shh, just let me take care of you and ease your worries," he says, his eyes never faltering from my dripping cunt. I throw my head back and enjoy this new sensation that I'm being guided through.

Then, out of nowhere, I feel the gun slip into me. No way he's fucking me with a gun.

"Fuck, Chris," I say, bucking I'm hips slightly. I'm not completely opposed to this idea but it's definitely something new.

Thank God I saw him take out the bullets otherwise my stress level would be through the roof.

He starts pumping the gun faster and faster, and a familiar heat is building in my stomach. Moans start spilling from my lips uncontrollably and my hands find their way to his hair again.

"Chris, p-please... don't stop," I say, at this point I'm fucking the gun back, and I'm so close to euphoria.

"I wasn't planning on it," he breathes out. A few strokes later, and I'm spamming around the gun, letting my wetness coat it as Chris' name, along with a string of curse words, leave my mouth.

He slowly removes the gun from my hole and looks at it in wonder before turning to me.

"I've never been more turned on in my life," he says, his eyes bouncing back between me and the gun.

I'm sure I look a mess right now, I'm panting heavily, my hair is frizzy, and mascara is likely running down my face, yet Chris doesn't think twice about calling me beautiful.

"What does this mean for us?" I ask, pulling myself down from the countertop, grabbing onto Chris to steady myself.

"I've liked you for a while, y/n, I was tired of pretending like I didn't need you," He admitted. My cheeks are definitely blushing, and not because I just orgasmed.

"Me too... but what about work?" I question, work is the main reason I hadn't made my move. I'm already a criminal, I can't be in love with one, too.

"We'll make it work, now stop worrying about everything, I'm going to run you a bath, and you're going to relax," he says, placing a soft kiss on my forehead.

a/n; well... I don't think this is too horrendous (if it is, keep ur mouth shut otherwise i'll cry). alsooo, 151 notes on my last fanfic?? u guys are insane but i appreciate it sooo much, thank youuu and love youu smm 💙

[padfootagain]

Love in Verses (XXXIX)

Chapter 39: ‘He grew so tender and I so grateful which maybe tells you something about how it was’

Hi! Here is a new chapter! It's dinner with the family!

I hope you like this chapter! Tell me what you think!

****

Pairing: Hozier x fem!reader (professor!AU)

Warnings: slow burn, angst, hurt, hurt/comfort, tooth-rotting fluff in later chapters, some scenes in later chapters will have heavy sexual themes even if it’s not explicit nsfw description, so no minors here

Summary: Your life seems perfect. You're engaged, your career is thriving as you become an assistant professor at Trinity College, and this Andrew Hozier-Byrne you're sharing an office with seems to be a nice guy you hope to call a friend soon. Life seems to be smiling at you... until everything goes sour. When your fiancé breaks up with you, your perfect world shatters. And when your colleague also gets his heart broken soon after, your shared office seems to be a curse rather than a blessing. But Andrew seems determined to mend your broken hearts... Will things finally go according to plan?

Word Count: 4508

Masterlist for the series – Hozier’s masterlist – Main masterlist

Here

After it ended badly it got so much better which took a while of course but still he grew so tender and I so grateful which maybe tells you something about how it was I’m trying to tell you I know you have staggered wept spiraled through a long room banging you head against it holding crushed bird skulls in your hands your many hearts unstrung unable to play a note their wood still beautiful and carved so elaborately maybe a collector would want them stupid collectors always preserving and never breaking open the jars so everyone starves while admiring the view you don’t own anyone everything will be taken from you go ahead and eat this poem it will help

Kim Addonizio

“You should bring Y/N over next Sunday.”

Raine’s invitation wasn’t the first one of this kind, and Andrew smiled as she offered to welcome you to Saturday’s family dinner. Still, he didn’t want to push you, you had been together for merely a couple of months, he didn’t want to rush you.

“Soon, I promise, mom.”

“You know we like her already… but your dad and I want to know her better.”

“I know, mom.”

“Then bring her next week.”

“I’ll think about it.”

The door of your shared office opened, and you walked in, smiling as you saw him. God, you were so beautiful today…

“I have to go, mom. I’ll call you later, yeah?”

“Sure, honey. Have a nice day.”

“You too, mom. Bye. Love you.”

“Love you, Andy.”

He ended the call and turned to you as you walked around your desk, putting down your bag.

“How was your meeting, babe?” Andrew asked, walking over to you, bending to avoid the lamp hanging from the ceiling and burying his hands in his pockets.

“It was… interesting.”

“That bad, huh?”

“We’ll see. For now, some professors are reluctant at the thought of organising a full set of conferences around women and the female gaze. They fear there ‘won’t be enough speakers’.”

“Bullshit.”

“Yeah… it’s okay, I can still convince them.”

“I’m sure you will. You can do it, babe.”

“Thanks, honey.”

You smiled up at him when he moved even closer, so close you had to lean against your desk.

“Did you want something else, professor?”

God, his heart was beating so fast… it was so fucking hot when you called him that…

He had to remind himself that you were working, that he couldn’t simply devour you…

“Professor…”

“Stop it… we can’t.”

“Hmmm… I know.”

“Then why are you teasing, professor?”

Your lips parted for a second, and he smirked at the tortured look on your face.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer, until he rested his hands on your desk, right next to where your lower back was pressed against the furniture, enclosing you between his arms.

“I like it when you blush,” you confessed, making him laugh.

“That’s still pretty cruel…”

You let out a sigh when he connected his lips to your neck, when he bit and kissed your pulse, his hold on your desk tightening so he would keep his composure. Your fingers got lost in his hair.

“Was that your mother on the phone?” you asked, breathless.

He merely hummed in response.

“How is she?”

“Fine…”

Gently, you pulled him away from your skin.

“We can’t, not here…”

Andrew nodded, trying to hide how hard it was to pull away.

“How are your parents,” you asked while he took a step back, remaining close to you, but none of you touching the other anymore.

“They’re fine. Just… the usual. My mom is working on a new painting.”

“Amazing!”

He thought about asking you, then. But it was too soon… it was too soon…

Were you really over Frank? Would you really stay? He couldn’t get his parents involved if you simply chose to disappear…

“Yeah, it’s pretty nice.”

He shook himself, put his hands into his pockets again.

“I should go back to work,” he reasoned. “I need to go to the library this afternoon, will probably work from there for a few hours.”

“Yeah, I should go back to work too… I have so much to do.”

“You’re still coming over tonight, right?”

“Of course!” you answered with an excited grin.

“I might not come back to the office before heading home…”

“Okay, I’ll see you tonight at seven, then?”

“Yeah, sure.”

You rose to your tiptoes to peck his lips, before turning to your computer, and Andrew walked back to his desk to gather his things.

He kept on wondering if bringing you to his parents was a good idea or not…

Andrew was an overthinker, which meant that he had a special talent for ruining his own life.

His day had taken a bad turn after that shared moment in your office. He was frustrated with the article he was working on, and the conversation with his mother kept on being played on repeat in his head.

And he simply… doubted himself.

There were days when his brain got too busy, too loud, and darker thoughts and doubts were enhanced in those times. And now that he was torturing himself on whether or not he was going too fast, his own insecurities were coming back. Was he really good enough for you? So far, he hadn’t had to change to make you love him, wasn’t that strange? He was used to tune down some of his interests, to be quieter than he wanted to be, so Sam would love him.

Wasn’t it strange that you were still talking for hours? That you were still interested in him? That you… didn’t ask for him to change?

And what if you longed for Frank still?

Lost in his thoughts, he barely noticed the knocking on his front door. Only when Elwood sprinted across the room and barked at the wooden surface did he realise that it was already 7 pm, that you were waiting on his doorstep.

He heaved a sigh, forced himself to hide his pain, before walking across his flat to welcome you in.

You greeted him with a grin, and a pizza box.

“Brought dinner!” were your first words, and he couldn’t refrain a smile as he took the box you were handing him.

“Thanks, baby.”

You went to your tiptoes to kiss him, and while he pecked your lips he wondered if it would be too much if he yielded to his impulse and hugged you now.

Yeah… probably… he would be too much…

“How was your afternoon?” you asked, taking off your shoes and jacket, before giving Elwood some scratches.

“Erm… yeah… it was fine.”

You looked at him, something expectant on your face, but he didn’t want to bother you with some unimportant problems. Sam was never interested in those anyway…

“Are you hungry, then?” he asked, already walking to his kitchen.

“Erm… sure! Yeah! Starving actually!”

“How was your afternoon?”

“Nothing very important happened… but I’ve found some interesting articles…”

He let you babble away for a while, nodding while he set the table.

You started eating, but then you grew quiet, and he wasn’t sure why. You had been excited, and then you simply… stopped talking.

Was he being annoying? Was that something he needed to change?

At the back of his head, his mother’s voice was still asking to invite you, and he was still debating on whether it was a good idea or not, and what about Frank? Did you still think about him? Did you still want him? Did you…

“Andy?”

He looked up at you, surprised that you were using his name. You hadn’t in a few weeks. The pet names were all you used when you were alone by now.

“Hmm?”

“Is there something wrong?”

“No… why?”

“I don’t know, you’re… you’re very quiet tonight.”

He couldn’t tell you that he was asking himself a thousand questions, that he was doubting himself, that he wanted to hold you close, because he would be too much then, and anyway he couldn’t talk about his feelings, he was never good at it and…

“Did something happen this afternoon? Are you okay?” you insisted, and he looked away, rubbing at his collarbone now.

“No, no… I’m okay.”

You remained quiet for a while.

“You can tell me anything, you know? I’m your girlfriend, I’m here for you,” you offered in a gentle, soothing voice.

“I’m fine.”

“Okay.”

“You… you were talking about your seminar… what about that speaker you wanted to contact, then?”

“Erm… I’ll contact her tomorrow.”

“Okay.”

He waited for you to speak some more, but you didn’t, and the silence that settled was awkward, at best.

This was so unusual for you. It was supposed to be easy to be with you, what was happening,? What was he doing wrong?

Would you leave? Would you regret Frank all over again?

“Andy.”

“Yeah?”

“Please, tell me what’s wrong. Why aren’t you talking to me? Is there something bothering you? Have I done something?”

“No, no… nothing, I’m just… tired.”

You stared at him, but there was nothing else he could say without talking about his feelings, and he couldn’t do that. He didn’t want to bother you, to be too much, and anyway, he didn’t like talking about his feelings, so what was the point in burdening you with those…

“Oh, okay… do you want to go to bed early?”

“Erm… sure, yeah…”

“Okay… I’ll clean up with you, and then leave you to it, then.”

He blinked up at you as you got up and picked up your plate.

You were leaving? You were supposed to stay the night…

“You… you can stay, if you’d like.”

“It’s okay, I understand that you’re tired. We can have dinner again tomorrow.”

“Okay…”

You gave him a bright grin. Were you happy to leave?

He started fidgeting, hurried to clean up the table. He noticed the way you seemed disappointed when you moved to his hallway though.

He was doing everything wrong, somehow, what was he doing wrong?

You wanted Frank again, of course, because he would know how to hold you back, and Andrew didn’t, and…

“Andy?”

“Hmm?”

“I get that you’re not in the mood to talk, but… I wish you’d tell me what’s wrong.”

“Nothing’s wrong, babe.”

“Please… you’ve barely said a word tonight. What’s going on?”

“Nothing, I just… wanted to listen to you.”

You frowned at that.

“You… you didn’t say anything.”

“I had nothing to say.”

“Now, that’s not true. Why are you lying?”

“I’m not.”

“Andy…”

“I said I’m fine!”

Your eyes grew a little round at his harsh tone, and he regretted snapping as soon as the words passed his lips, but it was too late to take the words back now.

“Why are you mad at me?” you asked, hurt evident on your features.

He heaved a frustrated sigh.

“I’m not mad at you, I’m… I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Alright… well, I’m here if you change your mind.”

He watched as you grabbed your jacket, couldn’t refrain the words from passing his lips.

“Why are you leaving?”

You turned to him with a puzzled frown.

“You said you were tired, and you don’t want to talk to me… I thought you didn’t want me to stay.”

“I… I didn’t mean for you to leave.”

“Then… talk to me.”

He heaved a frustrated sigh, ran a hand through his hair.

“I… there’s no need, I’m fine.”

“That was almost convincing, I’ll give you another try.”

“It’s not funny.”

You put on your jacket, and he was so frustrated right now, by his own thoughts, by you leaving, by his stupid feelings making him vulnerable and overreacting and…

“Are you angry?” he asked, but you shook your head.

“No… disappointed, rather.”

You were disappointed in him… of course, you were. You thought he was worth the trouble, but he wasn’t, and you were realising it, and Frank was better even though he was a fucking jerk and…

His hurt came out of his mouth as acidic words.

“Right, leave then.”

You froze, flashed him a glare.

“What’s wrong with you?”

He rubbed at his neck, until it was painful, but he didn’t care.

“Nothing’s wrong…”

“Of course, something’s wrong! I’m not blind! I’m not an idiot!”

“Why are you leaving? You said you’d stay tonight…”

“That was before you acted like you didn’t want me here.”

“I didn’t…”

“Of course you did!”

You started to put on your shoes.

You were leaving… you were leaving…

“Alright then, leave!”

“That’s what I’m doing!”

You were leaving because you didn’t want him, because he wasn’t enough, because he hadn’t changed for you, because Frank was better, Frank…

“Well, then… go back to Frank!”

The look of horror on your face sobered him up, made all traces of frustration or annoyance vanish. Instead, he was just afraid.

“You don’t mean that.”

Your lower lip trembled, he saw tears glimmering in your eyes.

What had he done? What was he doing?

“Take that back. Andy, take that back…”

He remained silent, staring at you and rubbing at his shoulder and collarbone.

He was fucking up everything…

“I don’t know what’s wrong with you tonight, but I hope you’ll tell me once you’re calmer again,” you said in a cold voice, and he hated that tone.

And then you turned around, your hand on the doorknob.

You were leaving, you were leaving… because he couldn’t open his fucking mouth and be honest…

“Don’t… please, don’t leave.”

His voice was fragile now, and he hated it, he hated the weakness that transpired through it. You stopped your movements, turned to him, but your fingers remained on the doorknob.

“I just… I want you to stay,” he pleaded, but you raised an unimpressed eyebrow.

You crossed your arms before your chest. You were angry, but at least you weren’t about to open the door anymore…

“Really? Cause you don’t look like you want me around tonight.”

“I do. Please…”

“What’s happening? What’s wrong?”

“I just… I’m sorry… my head’s all over the place… I do want you to stay though. I really do.”

You heaved a sigh, took off your jacket again.

“Talk to me, then, okay? If you don’t want to tell me what’s bothering you, then… tell me about your day. Or anything… I just… I want to understand what’s in your head right now. And please, stop this, your skin is all red.”

He was surprised when you reached for his hand, stopped his nervous gesture, and rubbed soothing circles in the back of his hand.

“Why did you talk about Frank?”

Andrew looked down at his feet. You were still wearing your shoes.

“That…that was really hurtful.”

“I’m sorry…” he mumbled under his breath.

“Why would you say that? Did you mean that? Do you… do you want to get back with Sam?”

“What?! Of course not!”

“Why would you say something like that, then?!”

“Because I… I don’t…”

He heaved a frustrated sigh.

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

Slowly, you nodded. He could see you were hurting though…

He was hurting you. He was hurting you… his silence was hurting you…

God, it was so painful to admit it all this out loud.

“I’m afraid.”

You gave his hand a reassuring squeeze, your expression softening.

“I’m afraid… about this. About you… leaving, and… I’m afraid you’re going to regret Frank. I’m afraid you’d choose him over me. And I’m… I’m afraid to go too fast, and to make you freak out. And I’m afraid because… I’m not changing for you, and that means I’m not giving you what you want, and…”

“Wait… what?”

“Sam… I was quiet with her, and I knew what parts of me she didn’t like, and so I tuned them down, but you’re… tonight you said you didn’t want me quiet, the way she wanted me, so… so what should I do? What should I do, so you can love me?”

He blinked tears away, and he hated it, he hated being so vulnerable before you, you could destroy him entirely with how much of his heart you owned and…

You reached up to gently stroke his cheek, and he was taken aback by your tender gesture.

“Andy… I don’t want you to change anything for me. I love you. Just as you are. I don’t want you to be quiet, I don’t want you to tune down any part of you. I just… want to be with you. That’s all. And I don’t regret Frank, not at all. I’m very happy with you.”

He blinked, trying to process your words.

“Really?”

“Yeah, really. And I… I would choose you over him. If I had to make that choice, I would choose you. I love you, not him. Not anymore.”

He brushed the tear that had begun rolling down his cheek, nodded.

He wasn’t sure he believed everything you were saying, and yet he knew you were earnest, that you weren’t lying.

“I’m sorry for tonight, I just… got really into my head, and just… I really doubted… everything, and… I’m sorry. Please, don’t leave, Y/N. I don’t want you to leave.”

“What do you want then? Earnestly. What do you want?”

“It’s embarrassing.”

“Why would it be? I’m your girlfriend, you can tell me anything.”

He forced the words out of his mouth, despite how vulnerable it made him feel.

“I… I really want you to hold me, right now.”

He let out a wry laugh.

“Christ, that’s pathetic…”

But before he could add another word, you were holding him in a tight embrace. All he could do was to hold you just as tightly.

“What about we go to bed, and cuddle?” you offered.

“Yeah… please…”

“Alright, I’ll get changed, okay?”

“Okay.”

You took off your shoes, picked up the pyjamas you had left in his drawer a couple of weeks ago, and disappeared in the bathroom. Then, Andrew got changed as well, and when he walked inside his bedroom again, you were already in his bed, waiting for him.

“Come here,” you invited him, opening your arms for him.

Slowly, like he couldn’t quite believe it, Andrew walked around the bed, lied down and nestled into your embrace, burying his face into your neck. For the first time that day, he let his body fully relax.

“You’re okay?” you asked, and he hummed in response.

“Yeah… much better. I’m sorry…”

“It’s okay. We can talk about it again tomorrow. Let’s just rest now.”

You turned off the lamp on your bedside table, and in your arms, Andrew was out like a light.

Andrew woke up to the smell of coffee.

You had closed the door of his bedroom when you got up, to let him rest a little longer. As classes were over for this year, you could allow yourselves to arrive later at work. As long as the job was done, no one cared when you arrived or left.

He checked the time, it was almost 8 am.

He forced his body to move, to get up, groaned as he stretched the sleeping muscles of his long back. He almost hit his head in the doorframe, forgetting for a second that he needed to bend to avoid it.

You were there alright, in your pyjamas, putting butter on toasts and talking to Elwood. Andrew’s heart melted at the sight.

You fitted so well in his life, in his home… this was obvious, you and him. Everything about it was obviously right, so why was he sabotaging himself?

You turned to him as you heard him enter the room, welcomed him with a smile. But it wasn’t as bright as your usual ones, and a lump crept up Andrew’s throat.

“Morning, babe,” you greeted him, voice soft.

“Morning, love.”

He wanted to reach out, to hold you close, to kiss you and apologise, but he was too afraid of messing up everything again…

“Slept well?” he asked instead. “Thanks for breakfast.”

“Yeah, I slept well.”

You poured him a coffee, stared at him as if gauging his reaction.

He heaved a sigh.

“I’m sorry about last night,” he let out in a whisper.

“It’s okay.”

“It’s not. It… it really is not. I’m sorry.”

“I just… I don’t really understand what happened.”

He started fidgeting, but he spoke anyway.

“I… like… I was stressed, and tired, and got stuck into my own head and… I think… I got really insecure.”

He heaved a frustrated sigh.

“I’m not… I’m not very good at talking about how I feel in those moments. I just… get stuck in my own ugly thoughts, and I fuck up everything.”

Slowly, you nodded.

“I see… is that okay if we talk about last night some more?”

“Sure… yeah…”

“Andy… Look, I’m sorry if I didn’t react well. Maybe I could have handled that situation better…”

“It wasn’t your fault, it was mine,” Andrew shook his head. “I told you, I got stuck in my head, and was a mess…”

“Maybe I’ve triggered this…”

“You didn’t. Really, Y/N… none of this is your fault. I’m sorry.”

“Last night… you said some things… we need to talk about them.”

“Do we?”

He averted his eyes, spinning his toast in his hand, without taking a bite.

“I don’t want to make you uncomfortable,” you said in a weaker voice. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologise, it’s not your fault.”

He knew you were right. You needed to talk about last night. He needed to clear the air, make up for the stupid things he said.

The stupidest of all was easy to remember.

“I’m sorry I mentioned Frank. It was cruel, and uncalled for.”

“Why did you say that?”

He shrugged.

“I just… I don’t know.”

“It hurt.”

“I know. I’m sorry. Like… I’m scared, Y/N. I’m really scared you’re going to wake up soon and regret giving me a chance, and regret not fighting for him more and…”

“I’ll never regret you, Andy.”

He looked up at you again, let his heart bloom with hope.

“I… I don’t have everything figured out either when it comes to us,” you admitted. “Sometimes, I worry too… that you’re going to leave, that you’d rather be with Sam. But I need to believe that you’d choose me over her. And you have to believe me when I tell you that I would not hesitate for a second. I would choose you, Andy. Even if Frank came begging to get me back, I would not hesitate, and I would choose you. I don’t love him anymore, I love you.”

Slowly, he nodded.

“Do you believe me?”

He couldn’t lie to you, he simply couldn’t. He knew you were being vulnerable now, and he couldn’t answer with a lie, even if it meant to make things harder for you.

“I know you’re telling the truth,” he nodded. “But I… my brain just… like… I’m really struggling believing that’s the case.”

“Why? Don’t you trust me?”

“I do. Of course, I do. But I’m… I’m not used to having someone who loves me the way you do. And with how Sam left, I… I thought she was a safe place, and it turned out she wasn’t. It’s hard to come back from that.”

Slowly, you nodded.

“I understand.”

“It’s not that I believe you’re lying, or that you could hurt me on purpose. It’s more that… I feel like you’re going to wake up one day, and realise you’ve made the wrong choice, and you’re just going to leave…”

“The way Sam did.”

“Yeah…”

“I’m not her, Andy.”

“I know. And I’m not Frank. Could you love me the way you loved him?”

He was surprised when you smiled, and even more so when you got up and walked over to him. He pushed back his chair so you could stand between his parted legs, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“I don’t want things to be the way they were with Frank,” you answered, staring intensely into his eyes, and he lost himself in the shades of your gaze. “I want better than him. You are better than him. I want to love you better than Sam loved you, too. I want this to be better, Andy. I’m not going to love you the way I loved Frank. I’m going to be happier with you.”

His heart grew warm at your words, at the sincerity in your voice and eyes as you spoke them. He blinked tears away…

God, he was such a sap, these days… crying over everything…

“All I want is for you to be happy, Y/N,” he whispered.

“And I want you to be happy, too.”

“I’m happy with you.”

You held him close, he nuzzled his face into your chest, his forehead resting against your chin.

“I’m happy with you,” you confessed. “And Andy… last night… I meant what I said. I don’t want you to change. I want you. Okay? I want you to be yourself when you’re with me. I want to talk with you. I want to hear everything you have to say. And I… I don’t want you to be afraid when you’re with me. I love you. I want to be here, with you. I’m certain about this. This… us… it feels so right…”

He took a moment to let your words sink in. And perhaps he could learn to believe them. That you could love him fully, like that. Yeah… yeah, he could believe that, with a little bit of time…

“Loving you is… I feel like myself when you’re with me,” he admitted in a fragile whisper. “And it’s… it makes me happy. But I’m not quite used to that. I’m sorry, if it takes me some time to adjust.”

“I understand. You can take all the time you need. Just… just promise me you won’t use Frank and Sam against me ever again…”

“I won’t. I promise you, I won’t.”

“Okay… I promise I won’t either.”

“Thank you.”

You heaved a relieved sigh.

“We should get ready for work.”

“This is nice, though… give us five more minutes.”

You chuckled, making him smile.

And he thought back about his mother’s words, and he forced himself not to be so scared anymore.

“Baby?”

“Hmm?” you hummed, kissing his hair, holding him close to you.

“Would you like to come to my parents’ for dinner this weekend?”

He was surprised when you started laughing.

“So… we’re resolving our first real fight… and you directly jump to bringing me to your parents’?”

He couldn’t help but laugh too.

“Yeah… that’s a way to change the subject, I guess,” he joked, making you laugh again. “My mom asked for you to come, though.”

“Really?”

“Hmmm…”

“And you want me to come?”

“Yeah… but I’m worried I’m going too fast. I don’t mean to freak you out.”

“Who will be there?”

“My parents and my brother.”

“I’ve never met your brother.”

“No… but you’ve met my parents.”

“Yeah… and you have to warn your father, by the way… I will ask for our bet to be honoured. He lost. I was right about the rugby match we placed bets on. He owes me a beer.”

Andrew laughed.

“Alright… I’ll warn him. Do you want to come, then?”

“Of course, I want to come.”

“Is it not too soon?”

“No… it’s okay… I want to see them. And I want my free beer.”

You were laughing at your own joke, but he quickly shushed you with his lips.

Yes… perhaps, one day, he could believe that you loved him as much as he loved you…