Tumgik
#like that's what everyone said about him—
screampied · 2 days
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RIDIN' DIRTY ?!
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⋆˚. sum. you never realized how hot your local mechanic was until he had you arched and bent over your hood. spoiler fucking alert, you end up getting a different kind of pipe that’s of course free of charge just for you.
warnings. fem! reader, mechanic toji, unprotected, degradation, oral (f! receiving), spıt, breēding, shotgunning, fuckıng you on the hood, praise, manhandling, pússywhipped toji, size kink, biting, brief fıngering, petnames.
wc. 5.3k
an. ty kali for beta'ing some x
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“she’s all done, ma’am,” your mechanic toji murmurs in a gruff voice, yanking back your stick shift before putting it in park. he drove it near the garage of his auto shop, a rounded plump cigarette sticking from the corner of his mouth. with a yawn departing from his lips, he eyes you up and down for a bit before removing his seatbelt. stepping out, he then towers over you by many, many staggering inches. his silhouette alone was intimidating, and you shift your dilated irises away once he cocks his head to your level. “still in pretty good shape. y’er model ain’t that old ‘n i think you should visit every few weeks.”
compressing your thighs together, you bury your purse underneath the pit of your arm. “oh, okay thank you sir,” and as he’s standing—you then take a good glimpse at the man in front of you. he’s handsome, sweaty, and covered in nothing but a slick sheet of grease. the more you gawk, the more you could see a bit of curly chest hair poke out against his skin. his broad chest, his perky pink nipples that poked-
“heh, darlin’ ya don’t gotta be so formal, y’know,” and your eyes darted toward his work cap that was slightly twisted. god, he was so attractive. he inches toward you closer, watching you struggle to keep composure before you think he’s gonna kiss you. so what do you do, you close your eyes. you close your fucking eyes, thinking he was gonna kiss you but instead, he places a hand on the hood of your car. “oh? silly girl, were you expectin’ something?”
“n- no.”
yeah, you were.
it was late at night, midnight, and everyone had clocked out for the day.
everyone except toji. he was a workaholic. you needed a last minute oil change and he was the only available one near by. he was about to close but made an exception. the auto shop has a cooling air surrounding the inside of the garage before you swallow. you can hear your saliva trail its way down your throat as you finally meet direct eye contact with the older man. “cute,” toji murmurs, and he’s not even touching you. he’s not even touching you but it felt like it. despite his teasing, you get hit face first with a strong waft of his scent. his cologne, you knew the exact type he was wearing. cheap, but long lasting against anyone’s nostrils who takes a first whiff. “it’s been a while since y’er last oil change though, i’d be lyin’ if i said i didn’t miss ya.”
with a quirk of a brow, you murmur up at him, deciding why not to play along. you knew he was most likely teasing but still. “you missed … me?”
“sure,” toji removes his baseball cap, fanning it against the sweat glistening off his bulging muscles that poke through his perfectly sculpted body. he was so fit, you couldn’t help but openly leer at his broad, intense figure. with a sly smile, he leans against your car before humming, taking another hit of his cigar. “not too many pretty faces show up ‘round here. besides, i didn’t forget about our little moment last time.”
your breath gets caught in the back of your throat.
he remembered,
he remembered the little incident the two of you shared. when you came for your last oil change and a battery repair, you also ended up sharing a kiss with toji. it was nothing more, nothing less.
but it was hot, having his tongue shoved down your throat with his big rough hands roaming along the sides of your body. being so pressed up against him, you felt yourself longing for more. in your city, toji was the best mechanic for miles. he we well known, quick, precise, and quite flirty.
you brought out the worst in him that day, and it annoyed you how the steamy, sultry kiss got interrupted by his boss. shiu … something, rich raven hair mirroring the same color as his worker.
“oh y- yeah.” you sheepishly mumble, feeling the tension through the air run thick. you loathed desperately how whenever you were around toji, your stammer would make an appearance. you hated it, it was so embarrassing and he ate it up everytime. toji’s sly gaze lowers and he titters at the cute pullover and skirt you wore before your own eyes trail toward his lips.
his lips,
they were naturally crooked — pink, and that damn slanted scar that remained to slash against the right side of his mouth. you peeped a bit of a growing stubble, but nevertheless he was always well trimmed. toji flashed a grin before he got way close to you. kneeling his head down, he whispers toward you. “oh y- yeah,” he mocks your trembling tone, and he was so close that his musk, his body heat radiates off you completely. “somethin’ tellin’ me you came here for more than just an oil change, that right, baby?”
your heart’s pulsing intensifies at his cunning words. always cutting straight to the chase. he’s so up close, his cologne’s just clogging up your nose by now before your thighs squeeze themselves shut. “yes.”
“yes what, darlin’?” and there’s a hint of jibe in his voice. the moment he grabs your chin gently, you’re ready to lose it right there. toji’s wearing mechanic gloves, the soft padded leather pulling down on your bottom lip playfully. with a coy head tilt, he purses your lips a bit more open. “ah, c’mon. use those pretty words, tell me what ya want.”
your legs, the crevices between them were already starting to slick with moisture.
oh, this couldn’t have been anymore embarrassing. as you meet his jade green eyes, you reply with a tone that comes out far more needy than you originally intended. “i want .. i want you, toji.”
there’s a frisky, playful glint in his eye—as well as the tiny crinkle forming at each twist of his facial expressions. “yeah you do,” and his words were pitched deep, so deep that the timbre lingering underneath his tone sends your spine shivers. “more than a kiss? i’ll hafta charge ya extra, heh.”
still . . it was humor in his voice, you knew he was joking but the heat purring between your thighs only grew. your body was screaming at you, it’s been a while since your last time anyway, the last time you’ve been touched. 
with a nod, murmuring out a faint little, “more than a kiss, ‘toj,” he snickers, closing the awkward distance between you two finally.
the moment his lips crash against yours, everything feels hot. scorching hot — similar to the sahara, his tongue being the water you needed to cool down. the leftover smoke and booze that lingered on his tongue was strong, the second it glided against your buds it tasted stronger. you could feel his smirk creeping against his lips before with two hands, he lifts you up, propping you to sit on the hood of your car. 
it was madly aggressive - teeth clashing, tongues twisting, one taste again and he was addicted.
he made sure to take out his cigarette before hand, squeezing it against his fingers as he’s gradually grinding his hips by you. it’s slow, you could feel his raging boner prod right through his work pants.
it was hard to miss, you couldn’t help but give him a few nosy peeks which he was working on your car to see if he was a packer and he definitely was.
sticky strands of his hair tickle against your forehead as he’s rutting right in you. a free hand makes its way onto your left thigh, slowly dancing his fingers amongst your skin. the moment your legs entrap his slim waist, locking around his torso, he grunts. both lashes were close to touching, breaths were becoming heavy, and you felt his tongue curl around yours. toji was a sloppy yet passionate kisser, and yet— he wanted his tongue to work in other ways. 
and it did, 
your jaw drops open as you’re laid flat on your back, staring at the man with his face shoved deep between your thighs. toji sprawls open your legs, delving his long tongue inside of your slick entrance to get a sweet taste.
gradually, his tongue dips all around your cunt, creating a little swirl before he feels your body twitch in rapture.
“t- tojiiii,” you whine, feeling a bit paranoid at how anyone could just see the two of you.
sure, you were both in a securely locked garage ( at least you hoped ) —but, anyone could just walk in. walk in and see you having your pussy being devoured by one of the most top known mechanics in the city. if you’d have given a rating on his pussy eating skills, it’d be five stars without question. 
he was always so nasty with it— occasionally, with his now bare fingers from removing his gloves, he slides a thumb down your slick.
“look at her, she’s fuckin’ sloppy,” he whispers against your cunt — his warm breath brushes near your folds and you whimper. your voice echoes raw out your throat, ringing through the spacey walls of his garage. this was far better than just an oil change, you were thinking. so so better,
as toji’s still swiping a tongue against your entrance in a circular rotation—nose deep, speaking of nose, it starts to rummage its way against your nub. you gag out a gasp, nearly choking from how out of breath you were with your legs shaking tremendously. with your teeth shattering, he nibbles against your clit, staring you dead in the eyes. “mmf, ‘s fuckin’ good. how generous of you though,” he coos in a gruff tone, easing a single digit inside of your slippery core. “haven’t ate all day ‘n this meal ‘s just what i needed darlin, heh.”
toji’s charisma was simply unmatched.
it was something about him being face first between your legs that made him ten times more attractive.
his hair, it was a bit lengthy but not too much. he grew it out the last time you saw him. a bit of a wolf cut but was neatly trimmed toward his shoulders. it’s rough and unkempt, dark black bangs still running down his eyes. every few seconds, he’s got to whip his head back in vex so his vision isn’t occluded. 
“hnnggh, right there toji. pleaseplease.” you babble out in desperate cries, swallowing your own pathetic pity before savoring the honeyed taste.
a whimper rips out of your throat to where it sounds similar to a gargle. his tongue knows just the right spots to reach. your clitoral hood, he loved to suck on it until that cute scream snatches from your esophagus.
“never tasted a girl so sweet ‘n all my years,” he groans, a single finger still shoved inside. it’s stretching you out more and your back arches against the warm hood of your vehicle.
from side to side,
his head moves and shifts and shakes and you’re about to lose it. in fact, you were already losing it, feeling your legs turn into complete mush. jello even, they felt nonexistent thanks to his sloppy tongue.
whilst he’s buried right between your thighs, the mechanic’s got the smuggest grin that you just wanted to wipe right off his face. 
toji’s so pent up and aroused—he works a regular six to twelve hour shift, it was almost the same situation for you. he can’t remember the last time he’s been … active, albeit he was exhausted. and yet it seemed as if your precious, slick cunt gave him all the needed battery to fuel his energy right back up.
a husky growl vibrates against your pussy and you whine as a hand combs its way into his hair. in the process, your fingers tangle against his strands. your digits - all five of them stroke through his scalp before giving it a brief tug. 
“kinky ‘lil slut, huh,” he grunts, head yanking forward towards your thighs. toji hated the fact that it turned him on. a lot, so much so that his dick twitches in his wrangler rigg jeans. as he’s got you still laid against your parked car, he slurps against your cunt - feeling you pulse right into his mouth. “there’s that cute heartbeat, she wants so much fuckin’ attention today.”
“t- toji, ‘m gonna cum,” you moan, his low words only pushing you further to the edge. barred big hands cling against both sides of your thighs. no longer having a finger inside, he firmly grabs your leg.
you’re quavering,
seeing nothing but splotches of snowy white as he’s slurping up your cunt like a hot dish of pasta. “c- cum, fuck ‘m gonna cum, y- your tongue ‘s goodddd.”
with a low hoarsely chortle, he hums. “careful, doll. cum ‘n i’ll have to add a bit of tax to your bill. plus an extra fee for heh, grease.”
you stare at him with a cute confused expression and he snickers. “aw, ‘m joking, don’t gimme that look,” and with warm lips pressing against your cunt, you mewl out a desperate, shrilling whine.
as the seconds go on, you’re steadily being brung to the teetering orgasmic edge. with your hips bucking against his face, he’s grabbing ahold of waist with his tongue exploring the inner caves of your delicious cunt.
your nub, he continues to flick against it, making your body jerk back against the unmoving vehicle. you whimper and whimper before he shoots you a teasing smile, whistling against your folds. “use those words, darlin’. use ‘em ‘n tell me what you want, yeah.”
“wanna cum- wanna c-cum,” you breathe, feeling the shiver in your jaw. even still, you’re wisping fingers into his strands, gripping it tightly before you’re grinding your cunt against his face.
a snail-like trail of your own clear slick runs down his chin. oh, with the way he slowly pulls his head up to smirk at you, you just wanted to kiss him again. your body’s hanging onto its last and final hinges before you’re spasming, feeling him swat a palm against your pussy thrice. “ngh, toji. wanna cum. please, need it. n- need to cum.”
“i’d beg to differ,” he groans, reaching for the hem of his pants - pulling the heavy piece of clothing down. his dick alone had a bit of weight to it and with murky-like irises, you gawk openly.
with a hand going inside of his pants, he lets off a guttural groan, starting to stroke himself off. a few solid pumps and he’s already sucking his teeth at the almost unbearable friction.
“fuck, y- you don’t ‘need’ shit, little girl,” and he’s multitasking. one hand focusing on your thigh and another on his cock. he’s so hard, he’s so fucking hard and the moving you’re doing against his body - the grinding, it doesn’t make it any better. with a mean slap, he spanks your cunt again before spitting near your folds. “you need it, you need ‘ta cum. right darlin’?”
“y- yes,” you hiccup, white noise deafening your ears continuously. the loooooong, sleazy slurps of his tongue makes you rock more into his mouth, nearly pulling out his strands with your rough, hard grip.
the more you tug and pull against his hair, the more it turns him on. his cock throbs whilst a long vein runs through the very side of his shaft. the center of toji’s thumb brushes against his peeling brief foreskin. “need, i need to cum. please.” you correct yourself, in hopes that he’d let you succumb to your nirvana-filled release.
as your fingers continue to fish through his hair, gathering a nice hold, he starts to make out with your folds. the squelches, they were singing out a cacophony of sloppy sounds. you’re sopping wet so good for him to where your cunt’s just voluntarily cascading on his mouth—cascading down his chin.
with ease, you even drench his stubble with your slick - happily. “go ‘head girl,” he grunts, gazing hungrily at the concoction of strings departing. cobwebs of his saliva mixing along with strings of your slick makes him groan. what a mess. a mess and you were the biggest one possible.
once you come undone, everything’s so hazy. your legs jitter in exhilaration, moaning loudly from the intense palpitation. he licks you clean, lapping up your flavorful juices with his tongue before feeling a few spurts of his own cum paint against his palm. “f- fuck, pretty,” he grunts, each stroke against his hard cock making him grind his teeth together. his jaw tightens, realizing he’d just came with you - all from eating you out. you were shaking still, your climax making your vision turn into a rainbow of color. your eyelids, all you saw was a plethora of colorful tints, slowly jerking your hips forward until you couldn’t anymore. as you move, he guides you to ride out your orgasm, ride it out all on his face. “thaaaat’s it, gimme all of y’er taste, mhm.”
it lasts for seconds, seconds that felt like long, never ending hours. with a sweet elongated battle cry of your own that’s in reality replaced with an ear shattering orgasm, you slump back against your vehicle. 
“such a good girl,” he murmurs, getting up and it’s a concise soreness in his thighs from bending down for that duration of a time. inhaling a breath of fresh air, he inches toward your face. “heh, you look so dumb,” he teases at your state. indeed you were, his tongue had you feral and craving for more. you were still throbbing, his body heat closing the remaining spacey inches between you both before he grabs your chin. “want a taste, do ya?”
“y- yes,” you nod, your own breathing betraying you with how you struggle to maintain easy, singlular breaths.
toji pops his cigarette back into his mouth before taking a long, deep inhale. the smoke burns, and he aligns his dick up against your drooling slit. he didn’t have to do much moving, the skirt you wore made it easy for him to lift the thin piece of fabric up for access. you glance down, and he was so big.
veiny, a heavy fat cock with an even heavier fat base. as the end of the lit cigarette sticks between his teeth, his brows contorts into a furrow. 
toji coos quietly, the mushroom-tip of his dick sweltering inside against your warm heated core. “open wide, babygirl,” he huffs, a thumb peeling down your lip once more. his eye contact had your pussy twitching profusely. it was so intimate, you felt the arising tension reach its peak. not even hesitating, you part your lips open, leaving your mouth open ajar for him. “good. nice ‘n wide for toji,” he refers to himself and you watch with doe eyes as he blows an airy puff of smoke right into your mouth. tepid lips hover against your own, and he’s so close that he can almost smell your longing arousal. you moan at the feeling of his tip easing its way into your cunt, creating squelchy sloshing sounds of acceptance. “there we go baby, nice ‘n easy.” he whispers, and toji finally kisses you. 
you moan, feeling his dick breeze its way into your sopping cunt, the stretch already presenting itself toward your walls. it’s a tight stretch and you moan, throbbing from the way you’re opening up for him. as the friction sets against your twitching muscle, you whine, running your tongue down his to taste the brewing variations of saliva and smoke into your mouth. it’s so sloppy, his tongue game was just improperly risqué. 
fithly, coarse..
with your ass sitting directly on the cool running hood of your vehicle, he’s continuing to drive his dick straight into you.
you moan as his lips attack against yours, savoring your candied flavor. it was something about you that he couldn’t get enough of. toji’s body - it was broad and big. as he towers over your frame, he starts to thrust a bit forward.
“ughh,” he bites down on your lip, dark mean eyes meeting yours as he then opens them.
the stretch had you gasping for air once his lips shortly break away. already, you missed them. he sees the pout and he chuckles before his head tosses itself back. as his lips pull away, strands of spit abruptly leave, saying its goodbyes to each mouth. “so fuckin’ — shit.” he swears, so lost in your swallowing walls that he forgets his initial sentence. 
already, his eyes were starting to flicker back.
rolling back,
it was sexy to witness, especially up close. toji’s cock dives into your cunt further and further before finally, he bottoms out. once he’s reached the hilt - the very hilt, you whine, throwing your arms over his tense shoulders carelessly.
“fuck me, f- fuck me, toji. please.” you stammer out in pathetic babbles, the repetitive twitch in your pussy making him all the more harder. your pleas almost fall on deaf ears before you feel the veins pulse down his cock. it spasms inside you and if you weren’t as wet before, you were certainly wet now.
he’s just so hard, your walls grip and envelope around his length as you bite on his shoulder. 
“didn’t know we’re on bitin’ terms now, heh,” he attempts to joke, one hand gently squeezing onto your waist. his touch, you never failed to lean into his touch. with a needy gasp, his hefty dick tucks its way into the insides of your cunt. your goopy walls squelch and squelch, shrieking out a lewd harmony of wails. you’re so wet - already, his base starts to get painted from your slick. you moan, licking a stripe near the crook up neck. he snickers, feeling the moisture of your tongue collide against his skin. “jus’ so fuckin’ hot,” he gruffs, staring at your already fucked dumb expression. “mhm, such a nasty girl. havin’ me fuck ya on y’er car.”
he’s stretching you out so good, its as if your cunt was a gymnast — easily bending and breaking, stretching in and out. toji’s dick was fat - the foreskin that’s glued against his tip stimulates the insides of your wet core. you whine once more, clinging onto his beefy body as he’s fucking you on the hood.
pitiful babbles of mercy whisper in his ears, your ankles and heels brushing alongside the red lines of his back. toji was sweating a lot more from the constant moving — you, your body jolting up against your car and his sharp, deadly hits going in and out of you. each piston has you weak, stupid even.
despite his mechanic scented musk with a sprinkle of inexpensive cologne, it was still alluring to you. you throbbed as he continued to jerk his hips against the same spot. your toes, all five of them on both feet curl in awe before you start to spasm.
“y- yes, please. right there, right there tojiiii.” and you probably sounded so pathetic but you could care less. your face was all scrunched up and twisting in blissful pleasure as he’s plunging into you at full force. his rhythm, his pace . . it was ruthless. 
safe to say, you were addicted.
cock drunk, easy - just like that. with a secure grip still on your hip, he’s reeling you back with such ease. strands of saliva starts to pour out from the side corners of your mouth and he slyly smiles. “oh, you just wanna be a messy customer today, huh. such a mess,” and with a flick of his thumb, he swipes your spit clean. he does this only to pop the same finger into his mouth, relishing in your glacé, syrupy taste. “so sweet, ‘m gonna need more though.”
your knees embarrassingly buckle. your weeping cunt sobs for more and more as his mean, degrading thrusts is just leaving you utterly dumbfounded. your mouth was open, tiny little pants of air escaping out into the form of a mere croak. toji’s weighty dick thoroughly plummets into your insides with all of his might to where you’re already visibly stupid.
each mocking thrust makes your stomach churn. he’s so deep, his tip located in every area. you’re stretched, worn thin, and the minute his cockhead greets your cervix with a french kiss, you shriek sweetly.
“oh my g- goddd, there please, toji, tojiiii,” and you were just babbling out anything at this point.
it was adorable, every few seconds, the mechanic had to swipe the back of his hand against his forehead. the remaining few droplets of perspiration that resided underneath his bangs was a lot. as beads of sweat race down his face, sable irises meeting your dumbed down state and you moan, nails now clawing into his shoulders. “f- fuck, ‘s good. ‘s fuckin’ big.”
“big just for you, baby,” he groans against your ear - the fat of his balls mashing against your entrance making you dizzy. you’re about to break again, the smell in the air was almost potent.
with his cologne, the mixture of his sweat, and the burning hot gas fumes of your car, you felt like you were floating. your cunt was being stuffed with delirious inches of cock and you wouldn’t have it any other way. toji grabs your chin, pressing a wet kiss against your mouth before his tempo accelerates. “shittt, grippin’ on me so good, ‘m gonna cum, darlin’.”
at his throaty words, you meet his eyes before burying your face into his neck for about the nth time again. the only words he could hear you whine into his neck was, “inside, inside me, ‘toj.”
“so y’er a creampieee kinda girl,” he sneers in amusement - watching as you’re slowly being taken to your inevitable rapturous rapture.
you’re whimpering, taking in each of his deep, pivotal strokes. toji brings his hands toward your waistline, skimming his fingertips against the curvature before nibbling on your earlobe. “careful, sweets... ‘s gonna be a nice big load. can ya be a good girl ‘n take that much? don’t wanna give ya too much of a full, heh.”
if it wasn’t for his puns — you’d smack him, but you were too cock drunk to think, let alone comprehend. 
“i can take it,” you nod desperately, a cute tremor in your voice as you’re making haste with your own hips against his. everything’s so sharp. “fuck, f- fuck me, right there.”
toji found it cute how repetitive your sweet nothings were - the same endless chatter flowing past your lips. “yeahhh.” he jibes, although his words were in the form of a question. you grab against his wrist while your slippery soaked cunt braces for the parching, hot fill.
three thrusts, 
three slow deep thrusts and he was at his peak. leisurely, as toji’s cock deeply into the pits of you, almost reaching your tummy - you feel a few hot spurts shoot into you raw. toji groans, his voice echoing through the garage. he was whipped. your expression was so cute, hooded droopy eyes and an abashed little grin.
his swollen fat tip was downright rude with the way it scrapes against your pussy, thrashing all inside as if it knows the place.
it’s so much, colossal big hands of his grab onto your thigh, and he leans in to gently pierce his teeth into your skin. sucking against your tender flesh, like honey—like nectar, he grunts his own gruff climax into your shoulder. 
his voice was low - his adam’s apple bobs at his actions, feeling an unforeseeable wave crash over him at once. it’s intense and he’s just eating up your delicious fervor that was right in front of him.
“t- toji,” you breathe, your arms still slung over his shoulders. easily, he’s jerking away from attentions.
toji wasn’t fully thrusting anymore, but he still had a decent pace of pumps. his fresh, warm cum emits into your cunt like how a volcano erupts. gushing into you, it’s hot and thick like lava, warm and sticky like magma.
you were chasing your breaths but failed to surpass them in the fictitious lewd race. it’s so hot inside, you were almost positive a few slimy spurts of toji’s cum exudes up on the hood of your car. you’ve never felt so full, his chest heaves and yours deflates in harmony. 
with both bodies were in sync and casual harmony, he grunts before leaning in to kiss you. his now flaccid dick was just idly inside of your swollen, greedy cunt. throbbing even still, you rub the backs of your ankles behind his slim waist before tilting your head back. the kiss was far more passionate this time.
if you knew mechanics fucked this good, maybe, just maybe you’d come for an oil change more often.
except, toji didn’t just add the new oil into the engine of your car, he added his own new oil into your sopping, drenched cunt. 
“fuck, baby,” he groans, feverish breaths titillating against the inner areas of your neck.
you pulse from any movement he makes, clinging onto him tightly like a koala. he has a flashy half girn, slowly pulling out his dick to see the mess. your cunt was overflowed to the max - so much cum, so so much. 
toji licks his lips, the tip of it grazing against his fleshed scar as he peers at your pussy’s opening. the way your entrance slowly spitting out his thick, velvety ropes of cum due to its fullness makes him grunt.
inside, it was lukewarm—oozing out of your entrance before you lean back against your hood. “mhm, ‘s still pourin’ out. guess i was so pent up from today, barely had any time to jerk off.”
“i didn’t have to know that.” you huff at his teasing, trying to catch your breaths. your full lungs felt like they were about to collapse. 
toji helps you off your car - although, he wanted more and so did you. surprisingly, he even cleans the hood off for you. as you’re back on your feet, sore and all, he asks for your number. “you’re gonna ask me out or something?”
“maybe, hold still darlin,” and your interest peaked, wondering why he wanted you to be still.
you turn, heaving a bit of shifting before toji bends down. you shudder a bit, feeling what feels like a cold marker starting to drag and scrape down against the right cheek of your ass. you could hear low, raspy laughter as he’s writing on your rear. with a pout, you wait as he’s continuing to write what you assume to be his number onto your skin with a sharpie.
the smell smolders against your nose quickly before he finishes, popping the black cap into his mouth. “there, call me after the hours of,” and he pauses, glancing at his watch. “hm, eleven pm.”
“thank you….” you murmur, that simple action making you throb again before your eye twitches. you make your way towards your car and then you feel a breeze through your legs. eyes widening, you turn towards the mechanic. “um- my panties? i kind of need them.”
with a sly grin, he pulls his work jeans back up before humming. “um, you kind of don’t,” he mocks your sentence, and you almost moan at the feeling of his hand squeezing your ass. toji then spanks it, the sharpie marker of his number imprinted on your skin slightly smearing against his palm.
“darlin, consider y’er panties as payment. ‘s on the house,” and you gulp, meeting his viridescent, green eyes. he looked hungry for more - that natural smirk compressing against his lips never once fading. toji brushes a thumb against your cheek before leaning against your car. “come back anytime for a fill.”
he hums cheekily at you through the mirror, closing your car door once you get in, starting the ignition. with your panties in hand, he shoots you a nod. “i’ll make it extra creamy next time. no charge, baby.”
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zaczenemiji · 3 days
Note
Hi there! It's me...again. Hope your doing okay.
I was thinking about a new request about Kenji Sato x Fem! Reader based on the song "Please, Please, Please" from Sabrina Carpenter. Reader is a singer just like her so and has a relationship with Ken but she thinks that some things aren't doing good, but she also has him wrapped around her finger. Like the part with "I beg you, don't embarrass me, mother******". It can be angst but also fluffy and spice (Only if you want to but no smut) It can end in a happy ending.
The rest is up to you because I know you'll do a great job. No need to rush so take your time.
Don’t Prove ‘Em Right
Kenji Sato x Reader
Word Count: 1,358
Author’s Note: I went with a bit of angst 🤧
MASTERLIST
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“You could do better.”
This was one thing you’ve always heard since you started dating men as a singer. Throughout your career, you were either cheated on, abandoned, or used in a way that they just rode your fame.
Other times, fans would ship you with another singer or celebrity or whoever famous and you’d give it a try for them but the ending is the always same: you two were just pretending for public entertainment and there was never love at all.
Your perception of love blurred the longer you got in the singing industry. You sang about it, wrote songs about it, but you’ve never really experienced it for a significant amount of time or for a significant depth.
That was until you met Kenji.
Despite his fame, he seemed down-to-earth and genuinely interested in getting to know you. He took you to his baseball games and introduced you to his teammates. In return, you invited him to your recording sessions.
Kenji was always supportive, and always encouraging. He seemed genuinely proud of your achievements and was always there for you. Despite his busy schedule, he shows up at your gigs and concerts and cheers you on from the front row.
He had a way of making you feel special like you were the most important person in his world. It was easy to overlook the occasional outbursts, the moments of impulsiveness that seemed to come with his fiery temperament.
You told yourself that everyone had flaws, and Kenji's good qualities far outweighed his bad ones.
You believed in him and in the future you could build together. Despite the red lights and the stop signs, you held on to the belief that this time, this love was right.
But as time went on, the cracks in Kenji's facade began to show. His temper flared more frequently, and his impulsive decisions started to take a toll on your relationship.
You made excuses for him and justified his actions to your friends and family. You told them he’s different.
But they told you that with the way he’s behaving, you’ll just end up in the dumps again—that he’s going to cheat on you, hurt you, leave you, and the ending will be the same…
“You could do better.”
Heartbreak is one thing, but your ego is another. You couldn’t afford your name dominating the headlines again. And for what reason? Another breakup.
You loved him deeply, but the constant cycle of highs and lows was exhausting. You wanted to believe that he could change, that he could be the man you fell in love with.
But the more you tried to fix things, the more you realized that some things were beyond your control.
You sat in front of your vanity doing your makeup nicely. You glanced at the clock. Kenji would be here any minute to pick you up now. Tonight is your big night. It’s an afterparty to celebrate the release of your new single.
Your boyfriend had a reputation for causing a scene. It wasn't entirely his fault—he was passionate but it sometimes translated into impulsiveness. Tonight, of all nights, you needed him to be on his best behavior.
As if on cue, the doorbell rang. Kenji stood there, looking dashing in a tailored suit, a grin spreading across his face as he saw you.
"Wow, you look stunning," he said, pulling you in for a quick kiss.
"Thanks," you replied, forcing a smile. "You sure you wanna come?"
"Of course," he replied with a confidence that both reassured and worried you. “I’m always here for you.”
You arrived at the venue in no time. Celebrities, reporters, and fans filled the room, all eager to celebrate your success. You and Kenji mingled with the crowd, exchanging pleasantries and accepting congratulations.
But as the night went on, Kenji's behavior started to shift. The drinks were flowing, and while you had stuck to soda water, Kenji had not.
You watched with growing anxiety as he laughed a little too loudly, and gestured a little too wildly. The conversations around you started to feel like a backdrop to a ticking time bomb.
You pulled him aside. "Kenji, please," you whispered urgently. "Just... take it easy, okay?"
He frowned, a mix of confusion and irritation crossing his features. "What? I'm just having a good time."
"I know," you said, forcing another smile. “Just... for me, okay?"
He sighed but nodded and for a while, it seemed like he was keeping his promise. He stuck by your side, an arm around your waist, engaging in polite conversation with your friends and family.
However, you left him one moment and then the next, he was talking to one of the reporters. The latter walked away, a smirk on his face. Kenji turned to you, his face flushed with anger.
"Can you believe that guy?" he spat. "He had the nerve to ask about the last game. Said I sucked."
"Kenji," you said softly, trying to calm him down. You placed your hand on his chest. "It's not worth it."
"But—"
"Please, Kenji. Just... let it go."
He looked at you, the anger in his eyes slowly fading. He took a deep breath and nodded. "For you," he said quietly.
But the reprieve was short-lived. You caught sight of him at the bar, raising his voice at someone who had apparently made a snide comment.
The situation escalated quickly, and before you knew it, Kenji had thrown a punch, causing a commotion that drew everyone's attention.
Your heart sank as security rushed in to break up the fight. You could feel all eyes on you, whispers spreading through the crowd.
You felt a sense of dejà vu as this wasn't the first time Kenji let his emotions get the best of him, and you were able to hold it together as you’ve always done, but then you heard the one thing you hated.
“She could’ve done better.”
Without a word, you grabbed your things and stormed out of the venue, the tears you had been holding back finally spilling over.
Not long after, Kenji arrived at your house, disheveled and remorseful. "(Y/n), I'm so sorry," he began, reaching out to you. "I didn't mean to ruin everything."
You stepped back, keeping a distance between you. "Kenji, this can't keep happening. You promised me you would behave tonight!” You said in between sobs. “This was supposed to be my night, and you turned it into a disaster.”
You sat on your couch, your legs feeling too tired to keep you up. "I can't keep making excuses for you,” you continued. “I can't keep sacrificing my career for your mistakes."
Kenji fell silent, his shoulders slumping in defeat. He’s scared. He knew what those words meant. At that moment, he felt like the sky was crashing on him.
"I don't want to lose you, (y/n)," he said quietly, tears falling down. "I love you, and I know I've been screwing up. But I'm willing to do everything to make things right. Therapy, anger management, whatever it takes."
You stared at him, your heart aching with a mix of love and doubt. "Kenji, this isn't just about tonight,” you said. “This has been happening for a while now.“
“Please, (y/n),” he begged, his voice trembling as he knelt in front of you, embracing your legs as he rested his head on your lap. “I want to be the man you deserve. Please, give me one more chance."
Over the next few weeks, Kenji followed through on his promise. He made genuine efforts to address his issues.
He went out of his way to apologize to your friends and family for his behavior at the party, taking full responsibility for his actions.
Slowly but surely, he’s coming back to being the man you fell in love with. He made sure you wouldn’t be the one doing better because he was becoming better himself.
One afternoon, you had lunch with your friends. They asked about how things are now going between you and Kenji. You gave them a smile, a genuine one since after the party.
“He became better.”
Taglist is open! Comment if u wanna be tagged on future Kenji oneshots
@flowerloves @eternallyvenus @puppyminnnie @wattpadsuckssohard @sakura-onesan @reggies-eyeliner @buggs-1 @miffysoo @spencerrxids @stupidbutsmart @marimargirlies @mixvchelle
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Cregan Stark x Targ!wife
Summary: Just Cregan Stark and his beautiful wife with their children
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Cregan Stark just loves you and your kids with all his heart and soul. He would die for you all. He would kill for you all. And the same thing could be said about you. You won't hesitate to rain fire on anymore who threatens your family.
Imagine your twin boys running around Winterfell. Both are mini versions of Cregan Stark, but there is fire in their blood as well which they got from you.
Imagine the little twins with wooden swords playing and pretending to be their brave father. Both bravely challenging your loyal guard and your guard just happily loses to them.
Imagine Cregan trying to tell them bedtime stories but he is not really good at it, or at least he is not as good as you. But he tries. If it doesn't work he will bring the boys to you. Imagine the twins sleeping in between you and Cregan while you tell them the story. The plan was for Cregan to carry the boys to their room after they fell asleep, but Cregan himself couldn't keep his eyes open. Once they are asleep you just kiss their forehead and sleep on your side.
Cregan always jokes that the boys are completely like him and are full Starks (although he was secretly hoping one of them would look like you).
Imagine Cregan teaching the boys about the North. Telling them about their history. They are very interested to know everything. They especially love when their father trains them to fight.
But then their lessons on high valyrian started and you also started teaching them how to bond and handle their dragons, which became their favorite lessons. The boys would rather bond with their dragons than study. Cregan has to personally go to the dragon cave and drag them away.
Imagine your twins standing with their father and looking up at the sky as you ride your dragon. Their dragons are not large enough to carry the rider but they are growing fast.
Cregan can be a strict father sometimes. It's necessary since it's his duty as the Lord of Winterfell to teach his sons and heir everything.
Imagine Cregan taking the twins to the wall. The boys are young but they are Stark. They need to know the importance of the wall and understand their duty. The trip was not easy for Cregan since your twins can be a handful, especially since you didn't go with them. One of them even tried to sneak out beyond the wall, but a ranger caught him.
"I didn't know raising sons can be so exhausting," The first thing Cregan said to you as soon as he got back. The boys just can't stop telling you about the wall, excitedly describing every single detail about it. "This one tried to sneak out and go beyond the wall," Cregan pointed at his son. "YOU DID WHAT?" Needless to say he was kind of grounded till he realized how dangerous it was. It was necessary. And now he is even more curious about what lies beyond the wall.
Imagine you get pregnant again. The twins just can't wait to have another sibling. Cregan is just praying that this one is a girl. And his prayers were answered. Your third child is a girl, a mini you, with the silver hair and purple eyes.
Cregan thought his daughter would be calmer than his sons, but he was wrong. She is a little warrior with big dreams of leading armies and winning battles.
The twins just adore their little sister and are extremely protective of her. Everyone in Winterfell loves her. And somehow Cregan is better with raising his daughter.
Imagine the entire family at feasts. The little ones busy with some shenanigans, Cregan trying to make them stop.
Or imagine the twins flying their dragons for the first time. Cregan is more nervous than them. He just doesn't want his sons to fall and get hurt. You constantly comforting him. And he was extremely terrified when your daughter first rode her dragon.
Just imagine a relaxing family time. All of you in one room. Your daughter telling Cregan how she will be a warrior when she grows up. The twins discussing about taking the dragons hunting, because they just can't compete with their father on horses and normal hunting. You sitting next to Cregan, leaning against him and just enjoying
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corkinavoid · 1 day
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DPxDC Danny Is A Self-Fulfilling Prophecy
(not in a necessarily bad way and it's by Clockwork's design)
Bats, or Constantine, or the JL, or whoever you want to be close to Danny in this prompt, don't notice it right away. It takes them a while to figure out its not purely coincidence. And even after they do figure it out, they still have their doubts.
The thing is, it doesn't work all the time. It also doesn't seem to have a system or a schedule to it, nor is it any kind of a superpower, as far as they can understand. By God, does Danny have way too many superpowers, but most of them are consistent, and yet this one... is weird. Weirder than anything they've seen before, and they've seen a lot, okay.
It also only works if Danny does it without thinking.
"You know what'd be perfect right now? A cheese sandwich," Danny says over the comms, in the middle of the fight with Dr. Freeze, "A warm, grilled cheese sandwich just out of the toas- Owch, what?" There's a pause. And then, "Guys, you're not gonna believe it, a cheese sandwich just smacked me in the face! I think someone threw it out of the window or something!" Danny sounds bewildered, but excited, and there's a sound of chewing from his comm now. At least he is eating, so that's good.
"I fucking hate robots," he grumbles the other day, punching his way through the Brainiac invasion in Metropolis, with no comm and only for the Supes to overhear, "No, correction, I hate only evil robots. The ones that interrupt my astronomy class. The ones that shoot motherfucking lasers and walk like crabs, and ruin a perfect day, and- I wish- aw, fuck, no, that's bad wording. Don't wish for shit. But if all these robots would just suddenly, miraculously malfunction and stop attacking me and the whole city, that would be, like, real nice of them."
A few minutes later, something goes wrong with the Brainiac's control over the army of robots, and all of them just stop moving and fall down at once. It is deemed as a chance, a lucky shot, a coincidence. Supes keeps quiet over what he heard Danny say.
"Oh, you bitch-ass fruitloop, you know what I want?" Danny yells at Plasmius, as the ghost is laughing like a madman, "I want a fucking brick to fall down right on your head, like, right now! Maybe that can set your brains straight for at least five minutes!" And even before he is finished talking, there's something falling down from the sky and hitting Plasmius's head. It's not a brick, to be exact, it's Miss Martian's shoe, though. She has no idea how it even came undone and fell from her foot. But it did somehow knock Plasmius out cold, so there's that.
It doesn't happen all the time. Red Robin does the math - the improbable accidents only happen in about 26% of the situations, given that Danny says something. It's by no means a reliable power. It also doesn't happen only during the fights: there were numerous times when Danny just said something like 'I wonder if the cafeteria serves garlic bread today' and sure enough, there's garlic bread there. Even if it was not on the menu. Ever.
They try to question Danny himself, but he has no idea. He doesn't even notice the coincidences most of the times - which is not surprising, knowing that they only happen in one out of four situations and Danny is known to have a short attention span. So, after a few unsuccessful investigations and failed attempts at calculating how this even works, they all give up. It has never jinxed anything, as far as they know, so everyone just leaves it be.
Danny is just magically lucky like that.
Meanwhile, Clockwork is having a good laugh about it. Danny's suggestions amuse him, and it's funny to watch the other superheroes having a mental breakdown over it, so he rigs the timeline from time to time. Just a little.
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fairene · 1 day
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one of your girls / ln4, part two
lando norrisxfem!reader
no use of y/n, as always.
part one
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a/n ⋯ I LIED IT'S COMING OUT NOW!!! i sat down for 'bout four hours after work and a family dinner to knock this the fuck OUTTTT. it's shorter than i expected, but this was the best way i could wrap up this supposed 'oneshot'. i hope you all enjoy it. and remember, it is up to YOU for what you are wearing, clothes are intentionally vaguely described for your own viewing pleasure. and tbh, i did not proof read this...don't sue me!!! I JUST WAnted it out asap for everyone@!!! pls don't let it flop!!!
warnings ⋯ SMUT 18+++!!! minors DNI!!!, language, drunk hookup, choking (slight), p in v sex (wrap before you tap!), fingering!(f)receiving, overstimulation, feral lando. sickeningly in love lando, possession, jealousy.
wc ⋯ 13.7k (unedited!)
he hadn’t heard from you in weeks. weeks. it was driving him fucking insane. he didn’t know that the girl would come back, he didn’t know she would be a bitch, and he certainly didn’t know you would react that way. to his ultimate surprise, it was a comfort knowing that you did care. however sick and twisted it was, it told him without using your words, that you wanted something. 
things had been left unsaid between the pair of you for a long time. too long. he was never in the business of guessing your feelings, assuming that you felt one way or another about him. and neither were you. both of you were too fucking stubborn for your own good. neither of you could see what was right in front of you–
each other. 
and that was the worst part for lando. it had him pushing himself harder. faster. to be better to perhaps catch your attention. to win you back through his ability to race. but you didn’t care about that. you didn’t care about how fast he drove his car, didn’t care about the number of podiums he got. you cared about him. but you never let the words fall upon his ears, and that was your first mistake. 
it was the weekend in spain. warm, but not too humid, you traveled with alexandra and the rest of the ferrari hospitality team. you had gotten close to carlos’ girlfriend, rebecca, as well. they were both great company and more times than not, lando had slipped from your mind completely. 
but not for him. 
he was a mess. a wreck without you. guilt consumed him night and day, and he would feel eternally wrought with what could have been. he’s called you, texted you, even had oscar reach out to you, but there was nothing but radio silence and the bolded words ‘read’ beneath his sent messages. it hurt more knowing that you saw him suffering and did nothing about it. 
but he deserved it. he deserved this treatment. he wasn’t going to fight you. he would roll over, belly up like a good boy for you. pay attention to me, his actions would scream. look in my direction. but you didn’t even view his stories on social media anymore. didn’t even like his posts. 
the british driver would be found pacing back and forth, staring hunchback at his phone. oscar would watch him from across the room, legs dangling from the papaya barstool. he hated to see lando this way, but he knew what he did. lando was honest with oscar, hoping to maybe seek advice in his own girlfriend. but lily simply shrugged her shoulders and her expression said enough. 
you did this to yourself. 
but little did you know is that he threw that girl out the moment you left. okay, not literally, but in ever metaphoric way possible. he never contacted her again. he hadn’t contacted any girl, in fact, these past few weeks. he would be isolated with his PR team at every occasion, refusing to even entertain the thought of hitting up a new girl. 
his loyalty to you was suddenly unwavering, but it was too late. 
“mate,” oscar said from where he sat. lando didn’t look up, just hummed, staring at your last text to him. 
‘you’re too sweet,’ 
too sweet. what would you say now? you had replied to a set of merchandise he saved for you, special edition for miami’s grand prix, and that had been it. from you. he had to scroll down through the text chain to reach the bottom. his endless apologies, desperate words, and more apologies. he felt nauseous. sick that he ever treated you that way.
his favorite girl. his girl. 
“she’s here.” 
what? 
lando’s head snapped up, looking frantically around. but there was no sign of you. 
“with alexandra. ferrari paddock.” oscar gestured his phone towards lando. he snatched it from him, letting his eyes fly across the photo. it was a picture of you, rebecca, and alexandra. posted on alexandra’s instagram story. 
you looked…
happy. 
he…
he didn’t know why he was upset by that. he wanted you to feel the same level of anger, sadness, distress, even. but here you were– looking absolutely beautiful with your bright smile. so fucking beautiful. he remembers he was there when you picked out that top. and god, he was right, it’s meant for you. 
lando threw oscar’s phone back at him, and knew this would be a long fucking weekend. 
barcelona’s air had been clean. much cleaner than miami, new york. the decor of the paddock, too, had you thinking and trailing your fingers over the textures. you had done that more– feeling the things around you. you used to do that with lando. but now he was gone, and you had to suffice to other obscurities to lay your fingers upon. 
gone. the word echoed in the chasm of your mind. gone. you didn’t realize the depth of lando’s absence would impact you this much, but that had been a mistake on your part. clearly. an oversight of your intimate relationship. that, eventually, it would end. it would end in flames, crash and burn, and ultimately never recover. as much as you thought, anyways. 
you heard your name being called from the other side of the couch. you glanced up. 
rebecca stared at you expectedly. 
“sorry,” you breathed. “what did you say?” 
rebecca huffed, but repeated herself regardless. “i said that i have a friend with me i want you to meet.” you raised your brows quizzically. “i think you’ll like him.” 
him? him? oh, fuck, here we go. 
as much as you wanted  to breeze past what happened in lando’s monaco apartment, you couldn’t. your feelings, as heavy as they were, weighed you down into the abyss of lando norris’ wellbeing. 
you didn’t sleep with anyone since him. you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. it didn’t feel right, and your own attempt at an orgasm was ultimately futile. 
but you said nothing when rebecca turned, pulling a man from conversation with carlos. he looked confused, but let his eyes settle on you. he relaxed. 
he was a handsome chap. dark hair, dark eyes. tanned skin. fit. he had a grecian nose, one that was slim and curved. not like lando’s, you thought, but brought yourself down to earth and stood. you greeted him with two kisses on the cheek, and his name was raphael. 
“so you are…” his spanish accent was thick and attractive. you couldn’t deny that. “friends with rebecca?”
“that’s right.” you nodded, bringing a bottle of water to your lips to cool down. “you, as well?” 
he shrugged, giving you a ‘so-so’ hand gesture. “carlos, really,” you let out a soft ‘ahh’ and soon realized, too, that this would be a long fucking weekend. 
the day of free practices came and went. so did your time with raphael. he wasn’t a bad conversationalist whatsoever, you were simply not interested. but you made a promise to rebecca this weekend that you would try. try and branch out instead of looking insatiably bored on live television. she was right. you needed to get over this and move on, because lando must’ve, right? he must’ve slept with that girl, given the fact that he didn’t go after you. 
did you expect him to? 
you weren’t sure. you weren’t fucking sure of anything. you weren’t a mindreader for fucks sake. but you saw his text messages. all of them. you made yourself sick with despair every night, rereading them to yourself like the fucking bible. what did you expect him to do for you? crucify himself? maybe. just maybe. 
as you were walking down the pit lane with alexandra at your side, you felt the wafting air of an oncoming storm of people. you glanced around, but alexandra was the one to point it out. 
“uh oh.” 
the papaya suits could be seen from anywhere. it’s not like they were subtle. 
you bristled and stood up straight. fuck, okay. this was happening. he’s walking this way. was he coming toward you? no, don’t be so foolish. but you hoped that he would. 
lando was approaching you, but his eyes were set forward. but when you weren’t bothering to look, he had been staring at you the entire way here. he could spot you from miles away with your countenance, your undying beauty. 
but he didn’t stop to look at you. 
you didn’t either. 
but your hands–
god your hands
they brushed past one another when he swept past your shoulder. his pinky desperately latching to yours before you let him go. you gasped lowly and he heard it, his ears twitching with the sound. but he didn’t stop. he couldn’t. 
if he stopped to turn, he would kiss you out in the open. 
you dared him to.
but you both kept on your way, and the interaction had you fuming. why can’t he care to show up? texts, calls, whatever, didn’t compare to the ability to show up. you knew he was in monaco. you knew exactly when he was there. it wasn’t a fucking secret. 
fuck him.
you didn’t care if you were being a brat. you knew what you put at stake, but you opened your heart to him. and you believed that maybe, just maybe, if that girl hadn’t interrupted, the two of you would be in a very different situation. maybe. but you didn’t let that thought linger. you couldn’t. 
“what was that?” alexandra whispered to you as you both kept walking. 
“nothing.” 
and that’s what you promised yourself it to be. nothing. when in reality, it had been everything. lando had seen you, spotted you from what felt like a mile away with a man lingering at your side. fuck. reality set in for him that you were looking. you were looking elsewhere from him for companionship. it made him fucking sick to his stomach, and he knew that had to change. he was a man on a mission now, a conqueror ready to pillage. 
it was the evening when you found yourself locked away in your hotel room. it was well past ten o’clock, and you were exhausted form today. alexandra had invited you out, but you just couldn’t bring yourself. rebecca prodded away at you, too, insisting that you and raphael hit it off today. he said that he wanted to see you again.
you had thought about it. you really did. 
but you couldn’t. 
you’d been sucked into a tv melodrama in your hotel room when you felt your phone vibrate. someone was calling you. 
you checked the time and raised a brow, lifting your phone to see the all-too-familiar contact card lighting up your face in the ambient lighting of the room. 
lando
you hesitated. 
suddenly your heart was racing, beating rapidly against the cage of your chest, and you felt like a prisoner to your anxiety. you felt it drop to your stomach, feeling queasy, but hit ‘answer call’ anyways. you lifted your phone to your ear, and let out a soft breath. 
“what?” 
your words were bitter, but quiet in the solitude of your room.
“didn’t think you’d answer,” came his raspy voice from the other end. he was breathless, as if he had been running. or fucking some girl. fuck you, you wanted to bite out, but held your tongue. 
“neither did i.” 
that earned you a cheeky laugh from him. he hesitated, too, before breathing. “are you at your hotel?”
you were confused by the question. “yes.” 
“can i see you?” 
his words hit you hard. you fell back against the pillows of your bed, hand coming to rest over your forehead. you sighed with a grumble. “i don’t think that’s a good idea.” 
you could practically feel him wince through the phone. 
“please.”
fuck him and his soft words. his desperate tone, the pity that you felt for him grew. the fact of the matter flew from your head, disappearing with a singular plead from his cracked vocals. he sounded honest. that he truly wanted to see you, and a small part of you wished to reconcile whatever was happening between the two of you. you were not a woman of small touches– you wanted it all, or nothing. 
“okay.”
lando cleared his throat, choking on his breath, exhibiting his initial shock. “i– okay, okay, what room are you in?” 
“610.”
he hung up before you could let out a breath. your phone fell onto your nightwear– a simple baggy shirt and spandex. they were what kept you most comfortable at night. 
your hands raked over your face, pulling your eyelids with it. what were you doing? engaging with him, talking with him over the phone. the long text chains of read messages you had banished him to sat idly on your screen, staring you down with an ambivalence that you quivered before. was this a mistake? should you just pretend you’re–
there was a knock at your door seconds into your thoughts. 
you jumped from your bed, hands raking through your hair. how did he get here so fucking quick? you scrambled around your room, checking yourself in any reflection you could find. fuck, why were you so nervous? how could he possibly make you so riddled with anxiety in a matter of seconds? your heart was in overdrive once again, and you wondered just how much you could take. 
he said your name through the door. weak, pining. you dropped the brush you grabbed in the bathroom instantly, feet soaring over the hardwood floor to open it. when you did, you were face to face with the british driver. 
he wasn’t drunk. that’s a first. the thought crossed your mind only briefly, thinking that you were just a booty call in the late hours of the night. it wouldn’t be the first time. 
lando was disheveled, messy, and the white shirt he wore was ruffled. upon his head was a mclaren hat, concealing his identity from the outside. most importantly, though, that you noticed was how his face was glazed in a sheath of sweat. you cocked a brow at him. 
“did you run here?”
lando shrugged. it felt, in that moment, that things were normal between you two. that all of this…shit washed over for just a second. you felt at home. comfortable. but you cleared your throat and let him walk in, shutting the door behind you. 
you didn’t want to speak to him here. not where he could see your laundry everywhere, pairs of underwear sprawled around so he’d get distracted. not that you expected to fuck him here, though the thought didn’t upset you. fuck, you were in deep. 
you brushed past him, leading him to the small terrace just outside your bedroom. you slid the door open and leaned your back against the railing. he slid the door shut behind the two of you, and he took a seat in one of the wooden picnic chairs. he gawked at you, openly, letting his eyes run over your bare legs beneath the oversized shirt. 
“don’t do that.” you said, breaking the silence between you two. you seemed to rip him out of his dreamscape with a clearing of his throat. 
“do what?” he feigned innocence. though he knew what he was doing. he missed you, lest he verbalize that. 
“look at me,” you breathed, “like that.” 
his brow lifted, still playing dumb. dumb, as if he didn’t want to take you over this railing, ask you to be his. 
“like what?”
you scoffed. 
“like you’re in love with me.” 
ouch. your words bit harder than he thought they would, blood gushing from an open wound in his heart. he let your words settle before he leaned back in the chair, legs spreading as he fiddled with the skin of his thumbs. 
“i wanted to see you.” 
“i know,” you answered. “you saw me. now what?” 
lando shook his head. “don’t do that.” please don’t do that he wanted to say. 
“do what?” it was your turn to play dumb. your turn to pretend that you weren’t doing the same thing. pushing him away was the easiest way to deal with all of your problems. 
“act so cold.” he turned his head away from you, glancing over towards the lights of the city. “giving me frostbite.” 
“lando, what–”
“i’m sorry.” 
huh? you froze, eyes widening as you straightened upright. did you hear him correctly? it wouldn’t be the first time you’ve heard an apology. but this was a first to hear it in person, not in begging text messages half way across the world. 
“what–?”
“for everything. i’m sorry.” his head fell to his hands as he leaned over, gripping at the curls atop his head. you felt the same urge creeping up your spine, your hands feeling empty. you shifted on your feet, stepping a foot closer. 
“why now?”
he perked up, wondering what you meant. 
“why, now, are you sorry?” 
he was speechless. unable to form the words that could answer such a  vague question. but you had an idea, so you thought you’d share. 
“because i was with someone?” raphael. you know that he saw the two of you talking. chatting. maybe an occasional giggle so you could keep him quiet for the rest of the free practices. 
lando began to shake his head. “no, no–” 
“really?”
you stepped into his space, wedging yourself between his thighs. he stared up at you, lost in the reflection of your eyes beneath the starlit sky. his hands found your hips and you let him keep them there, at least for the moment. 
“really.” he promised you. head leaning forward to rest on your stomach. you felt the perch of his nose dig into your skin. your head leaned back, taking a large breath, feeling tears begin to well. 
“what do you want, then?” you said with a shaky breath. 
you felt his hands tense against your hips. 
“i don’t know.” his words were muffled, but you could make them out. it shattered you to hear the creak in his voice, but it hurt even more knowing that he didn’t know. you wanted something with him. a relationship. but he didn’t feel the same.
your fingers cupped his face, bringing him to look at you. “that’s it, then, huh?” your voice was dangerously soft. 
he was confused. again. 
“that’s all i’ll be?” he still didn’t catch on, too busy staring at your flushed face, reddened eyes. he wanted to fix it– take back his words. he’d do anything to reverse time. would do anything to revoke the words that spilled from your pretty lips. 
“one of your girls.”
you pushed him away, walking back to the railing with your back turned. he said your name over and over. you ignored him.
“i think,” you said, sucking in a tight breath to calm the storm of emotions that were threatening to raise hell. “that you should go.” 
“no, no–” lando stood, coming to wrap his arms around you, but you turned, holding up your hand to stop your advances. 
“we knew this would happen one day, didn’t we?” you reaffirmed, steadying your breaths the best that you could. but it was difficult. nothing about this was easy. but it had to be done. you were done waiting. done pining for someone that did not feel the same. did not burn the same. 
lando breathed your name again. you shook your head. “no. no. we can’t–” you choked on your tears. it felt hard to breathe. “i can’t keep waiting for you.” 
lando’s own eyes filled with tears. it felt like a breakup, when you two were clearly never together. you made that clear enough, and he obeyed, just wishing to feel your skin beneath his fingers, fall asleep to your heart beat. so why did he say he didn’t know? fuck, he’s such an asshole. he couldn’t take back his words now, could he? 
he tried to explain. words stumbled from his lips, nervous and riling with anxiety, but you would hear none of it. you simply brushed past him and into your room, opening the door from your hotel room for him. you said nothing else, tears sliding down your cheeks, lip caught between your teeth. 
“please,” he begged one last time. he had succumbed to his tears, too, cheeks flushed and lip wet. his hands trembled as he made one last attempt to cup your face. you let him. 
your foreheads met in both desperation and exhaustion. here, it felt like time stopped. the two of you in sync with your racing hearts, trembling hands, voracious blood churning through your veins. you looked up at him through your wet lashes and he met your gaze. it only had you sobbing harder. 
he wiped the tears from your cheeks. 
“please,” he said your name on his trembling tongue. the sound had your knees trembling, but you resisted. you had to. you couldn’t keep doing this anymore. there was a life out there, waiting for you to take hold of. “don’t make me go.” 
you let out a shaky breath, shaking your head. 
“you have to.” 
lando hiccuped. his fingers were still shaking, and he finally accepted your rejection. though he supposed he signified it first. that was his first mistake. he couldn’t take back his words without sounding like a dick, so he was trapped. trapped utterly in this pit of mayhem. 
he exited your hotel room with his tail between his legs. defeated. 
you shut the door behind him and slumped against it, your back sliding down until you hit the floor. your head fell into your hands as you attempted to stifle your sobs. 
little did you know, that he had done the same thing, fallen limp against your hotel room door. your sobs were in unison as you began to unravel, whilst he coiled into knots. forever entwined amidst your inability to be vulnerable with one another. toilsome, but ultimately true. 
you didn’t know how long you stayed there. he didn’t know how long he stayed there. the two of you stayed in parallel behind a closed door, mimicking each other’s beating heart, for you knew that they would never be one. 
when you woke, you were still slumped against the door. you stood, stretching out your painfully aching muscles, arched your back, twisted your neck. your eyes were swollen raw with your epidemic of tears the night prior, and you rubbed the crust away. the memories flooded through you. lando was here. he was here, and you had to haul his ass out.
you thought he was going to kiss you. 
but he didn’t. your lips would remain untouched by his own. 
your fingers ghosted over your mouth, shivering at the memory of him so close to you. you could feel his breath fanning over your face– the heaving, desperate puffs of air– and he felt yours, too, with the same amount of anxiety. you were a wreck before him, and he was too. 
in no time you found your phone, grimacing at your battery, and the plethora of texts from rebecca and alexandra. it was still early in the morning so you had time to pull yourself together, but you had a big day with them today. qualifying was happening, and rebecca had set you up.
she set you up with raphael for the day. you knew she meant the best. and maybe it was. this was your opportunity to uphold your promise– to move on. you had to, or else you would be strung dry for the remainder of your life, with dreary hopes and aimless romantics. you would not drown in the ocean of lando norris, despite how cumbersome he gripped on your ankles. 
you fixed yourself for the day. showering quickly, styling your hair to your liking. you threw on a formal chic outfit, perhaps trying a bit hard today to catch raphael’s eye– or someone else’s, by chance. but you left the unattainable at the back of your mind today, heart far too raw to be ripped open again.
you would stick with something safe. someone safe. raphael was your answer in the short term. you were sick of playing the long game, bested to your knees in the face of whatever conspired between you and the british driver. you were convinced it was for the best. it had to be. these emotions couldn’t be for nothing. 
it couldn’t be for nothing. 
when you arrived to the track that morning, alexandra was quick to meet your side. she had an impenetrable amount of questions for you, yearning for your answers, but you only gave her a brief overview. 
“we’re done,” you said as you walked through the pit lane. “he doesn’t want me like that.” 
she was clearly taken back. her hand flew over her heart, obviously distressed for you. you admired her care for you. you would do the same for her. “really?” 
you nodded, gulping down the lump in your throat that was tempting to choke you. 
“it’s okay.” you reaffirmed her. she made a move to speak over you, console you to the highest degree, but you stopped her. “i’m fine. swear. let’s have a good day, shall we?” you plastered on a fake smile towards her, but you knew she saw through you. but she would accept this for now when you were approached by carlos, rebecca, and raphael. 
you smiled brighter when raphael came to kiss both your cheeks. you gripped his bicep. engaging in conversation with him felt easier today, and you weren’t begging for an out. you’d catch rebecca’s eye here and there, and she glowed with happiness. if you weren’t doing this for yourself, you could at least say that you were doing it for her. 
raphael was not a bad man whatsoever. he smelled good, had good hygiene, and had a glowing smile. but he didn’t smell the same. didn’t have the same musk. didn’t have the harsh pricks of a stubble that burned into the skin of your neck. 
fuck. you missed the feeling of that stubble. 
you clung to raphael’s side for the rest of the day, a burning itch between your thighs undoing the morals of your mind. if you wanted to get over lando, you’d have to truly get over him. 
it was never a ‘string’s attached’ relationship, was it? you were free to fuck whoever you want, when you want. so why would it be so bad if you wished to see raphael bend down for you? 
or you wanted someone else, but raphael was the closest you’d get. 
the rest of the day went by smoothly. for you, at least, but not for lando.
he had come into the mclaren paddock looking absolutely awry. his hair messy, eyes dreary with sleep and emotion, whereas you…you looked beautiful. untouched by your emotions from the night before. so much so that you were cuddled against that same fucking dude, which had lando’s blood bursting to life. 
you were across in the pitlane observing the car, arms folded over your chest. that fucking guy’s hand rested on the upper part of your back, rolling soft circles with the pads of his fingers. he clenched the rim of his helmet in his hands. his teeth grinded inside his mouth, sawing down the enamel. for you, he’d have no teeth. for you were the only world he wished to bite, and even then you starved him of it. 
“y’alright, mate?” oscar’s voice interrupted his thoughts. lando broke his stare from the pair of you, ripping his eyes away. 
but you had turned, then, and let your eyes linger on his back.
“fine.” 
that evening was no different than any other. for lando, at least, he succumbed to his hotel room for the night. he had no interest in going out. if he saw you with that spanish prick, he’d only lose himself even more. the guilt of losing you had been overturning, divulging into what a psychologist would declare as madness. 
but you were the opposite. you were out on the town, clubbing with rebecca and raphael. carlos was there, too, but was saving his energy for the race tomorrow. he held no drink in his hand, but you did. you were downing shot after shot. 
you were swaying your hips, grinding against raphael with a steady pace. he was into it. his dick was aggressively hard against the back side of your dress, but you weren’t scared by it. it enticed you further, in fact, and had you drawing new sensations of pleasure through you.
finally, you thought, a break from him. from lando. but the voices echoed inside the back of your mind. it bounced off the walls; he couldn’t compare. 
lando would have his hands drawing up the sides of your body. fingertips scathing the fabric of your dress, teasing touches that would have you writhing in his hold, desperate for him to fuck you in the back. 
lando would have his face nuzzled into your neck whispering bittersweet praises into your ear. he’d squeeze your hips with anticipation as the both of you would move in sync. always in sync. the two of you were one on the dance floor, one when you fucked one another senseless in your less than private moments. when he was particularly desperate for your touch, he’d go as far as taking you in the bathrooms at any club. he had no shame; not when it came to you. 
but raphael was tame. and maybe you appreciated tame. maybe this was a new start for you. fresh and free of any unknowns. 
“you’re beautiful, hermosa.” he would whisper to you, body trying its best to keep up with you. he did, for the most part, but you moved to your own beat. lando would know. he knew every inch of you. were you really prepared to be strangers? 
you spun around in raphael’s arms, wrapping yours around his neck. you offered him a cheeky smile. this wasn’t you. “and you’re handsome!” it was alcohol talking. you would never be seen so exuberant. not like this. 
it had raphael laughing, though, and it was enough for him to take you back to his place. 
the entire way back to his place you were giggling, latching onto his tanned skin. his hair was soft, sheen, and luscious. your hands never got lost in the strands of his hair– it was too combed, not curly enough. nothing was curly enough. 
and then he had you against the wall of his flat. your hands pinned against your head, and he met your lips with his. fuck, you couldn’t remember the last time you’ve been kissed. but the worst part about all of it was–
you hated it. 
you tugged his head down to your neck, letting him work the sensitive skin with his tongue. your lips felt hot. blistering with a heat you haven’t felt in a long time. it felt…it felt…
raphael’s tongue found the meeting part of your underwear and skin, “can i?” he asked with a timid voice. you let out a soft moan and nodded. he tugged the fabric down, your dress still hanging off your body. you didn’t even remember if he left kisses along your neck, your breasts, you guessed his lips weren’t that memorable. 
and then his tongue was against your slit. you weren’t wet enough. clearly. you could feel the chapped parts of your cunt, disappointed in your body that you couldn’t ‘get it up’ for him. whereas he was practically jacking off in his pants, you were left like a desert. it wouldn’t be like this with lando. 
he explored your cunt with his tongue, narrowly dodging your clit ever so slightly. he thought your noises of pleasure were noises of distress, so he avoided touching your clit as much as possible. so he tongued you through and through, until you began to become irritated. 
you couldn’t even feel tight in your stomach. the feeling couldn’t be outmatched. maybe your sexdrive had died. maybe you could never cum ever again. this was to be your fate– dry and lonely. fuck. you let your head fall back against the wall, which he took as a good sign, and kept going. instead, you threaded your hands through his hair, rolling your eyes. 
you let out a few soft, faked moans. you felt guilty– of course you did– but apparently it was an olympic sport to make you cum. he certainly wouldn’t make the playoffs. 
after another minute of this, you were fed up. 
you tightened your cunt on command, which took a lot of fucking work, thank you, and began to heighten the sound of your moans. the award for best fake orgasm goes to: you!!! you surged forward to grip onto his shoulders, even pretending to be shaking. 
you deserved an oscar. 
“didn’t think i was that good.” 
an egot, maybe. 
you let out a soft sigh, a faked chuckle, and let him lead you to his bedroom. he fell atop of you on your back, holding himself up with the strength of his forearms. he dipped his hand down, scathing over your irritated cunt. you gasped at his hand finding your slit once again, drenched in only his spit, and without warning slipped a finger inside of you. 
your mouth hung open, lurching at the sudden contact. you felt sinched beneath his weight, taught with tension. he even curled his finger inside of you. he grazed your bundle of nerves that had your squirming. squirming for more pressure. he kept hitting your spot until he pulled away. you looked confused at first, wondering where exactly he was going. 
and…then he was pulling his cock out. fuck. you really weren’t going to win here, tonight, were you? not in the slightest, it seemed. he looked down at you with a knowing smirk. the same one where he thought you came beneath his tongue. 
he thought you came. 
fuck!
“are you ready?” he asked when his cock pushed against the skin of your lower belly. he was a good size, you admit, but you had a inkling that you weren’t going to find a sweet release with his hands. you nodded, forgetting your manners, but raphael said nothing. 
he pushed into you with a discerning pace. you scrunched your nose out of his eyesight. he was too busy fucking himself into your pussy. he couldn’t even open his eyes to look at you. and, for the record, he didn’t use a condom. dick. at least you had a form of a contraceptive. you’d make sure not to let him finish inside you. that’s for fucking sure. 
he slid in and out of you with the lubrication of his spit and his own precum. you didn’t move. you laid there, bored, faking a moan and gasp here and there. 
the whole time you thought about someone else. and you didn’t feel guilty about it. you were able to find yourself comforted by the dreaming thought of lando’s voice in your ear. the phantom touch of his stubble. the amount of moles that you could count on his face. 
with a grunt, you felt raphael push off of you, cumming onto his own sheets. he laid there, panting, and you…”did the same.” 
he turned to face you, smile on his face. “did you finish?”
you nodded with an itching smile. he seemed triumphant. though you couldn’t be drier than a haystack. 
your exit from his flat quickly. it’s not like he even took your dress off. he insisted that you stayed, but you retorted that you had an early morning with alexandra. whether or not that's true, you didn’t seem to care. he didn’t fight your statement and seamlessly let you go, clearly too exhausted from his evening to even see you out the door.
you hailed a cab from your hotel shamefully. you felt icky. your lip sneered when you caught a cab and tipped the driver once you arrived back. the elevator ride never seemed so tantalizingly long. 
when you swiped into your room, you threw your belongings on your bed and turned on a hot shower. while you waited for the water to heat, you opened your phone. 
no messages from lando. 
did you expect any?
maybe. 
you decided to call him. you didn’t fucking care. it was the alcohol talking. 
ring…ring…ring…ring…ring…
no answer. 
you left a voicemail.
“heeyyy…!!” you surged into the phone as you began to untangle your dress from your body. “i–uh, i dunno i just…wanted to call you… because i…” you swore under your breath as you couldn’t get a strap off. “sorry i…” you stuttered, laughing to yourself. “i think i miss you, lan.” 
and then you hung up, singing yourself into the shower. the hot water panned over your body, fingers trailing over the mounds of your breasts. the soft skin of your abdomen. 
but with your whimsy, came a price.
lando was there. he just didn’t answer your call. he had been awake, wondering what you were doing, since you were absent on almost all forms of social media. so when he got your call, he couldn’t bring himself to accept it. 
then the voicemail came.
he must’ve played it over a dozen times. hearing your soft voice, amicable and kind. you had been drinking, clearly, and he could hear the sound of the shower running in the background. he held his phone against his head, other hand running through his hair. he was a wreck over you, and you were as well. drunk dialing was never a thing between the two of you. 
especially an ‘i miss you.’ 
and how ‘lan’ slipped past your lip with such ease. the name was meant for you to use. only you. 
he found himself stroking his cock to your words, the temptress in your voice. he knew she was there, baiting him, and he was no better than a fish to bite. he fisted his cock with your name on his lips, and a reminder that yours was on his.
with a pounding heartbeat and ringing in his ears, all he could think about was you. and more or less, you the same.
your fingers trailed down your navel in the shower, coming to nib at the lips of your clit. how swollen it was, angered and annoyed, that such a man could ignore it. by association, you. 
a hand rolled over one of your breasts, twisting your nipple in hand. you gasped at the sensation you provided, flicking your clit between your fingers. you truly needed no more to make yourself cum, except the thought of lando’s voice in your ears. 
‘come on, baby,’ he would say to you, fingers gliding along your drenched slit with ease. you clenched around nothing, whimpering to yourself in the hum of the hot shower. ‘little more for me, yeah?’ he would always talk you through it. never once would you be alone when you came. he was always there, lingering, a shadow against the walls. 
you slipped a single finger inside of yourself, curling it expertly as lando taught you to. ‘just like that, sweet thing.’ he’d mutter against your shoulder as he’d fuck you on a chair facing a mirror. you could never make yourself cum before his “lessons.” 
your back arched against the marble of the shower walls. your thumb and forefinger worked just like his would against your clit, massaging the bundle of nerves until a coil inside of you snapped, and you came all over yourself with his name on your lips.
and he could feel it. amongst the cosmic plane. he had been grudgingly fisting his cock, grunting your name over his lips. it was sinful, the way that his cock was spewing cum in only a matter of minutes at the thought of your voice. ‘lan, lan,’ you would say to him, ‘need it. need you inside,’ you’d whimper against him, begging for his cum to seep out of you. 
he’d never deny you a pleasure. so he shouldn’t deny himself. he came in a matter of seconds over the palm of his hand, your name flustering his tongue. and he’d lay there, soaking in his milky cum, eyes blown wide at just how much of an effect you had on him; mind, body, and soul. 
you stood there in the shower, flustered from heat, the slick running down your thighs. your hearts beat in unison at that moment, miles apart, on the same wavelength. 
the shower wasn’t the same after that. you felt dirty, but so good. the namesake of lando’s voice in your ear was enough to have you cumming on your own fingers, but the touch of another man made you ill. what a shock that was to you. or maybe it wasn’t a surprise at all. 
clean to the best of your ability, you slept easy that night. the best sleep you’ve had this weekend, in fact, with lando frolicking through your dreams. and you in his, whispering soft ‘i love you’s’ which had him writhing with pleasure. you infested every part of him, and he did the same to you. you’d never be free of lando norris, and the thought began to settle. it wasn’t the worst thing in the world, but you couldn’t forget his words. 
‘i don’t know,’ he spoke into your stomach. his nose pinched you. the words sliced clean. your stomach coiled not with pleasure, but anxiety. why didn’t he want you that way? why did he hesitate? 
you weren’t taking his rejection well. that was clear. 
but he wasn’t taking this any better. he was going through his own emotional turmoil of trying to make this up to you. it would be the last thing that he did. 
when you woke that morning with a groggy headache and a sore ache between your thighs, you couldn’t help but groan. what the fuck were you doing last night? you perhaps had the most disappointing sex of your entire life, and now, as you looked in the mirror you were nothing more than mortified. 
littered on your chest, above your breasts, were a few specks of bruises. hickey’s. fuck. fuck. that was one thing that was always far too intimate. kisses and hickeys. what did this mean, then, that you belonged to raphael? your fingers trailed up the bruises on your chest, the flesh tender beneath your soft touch. you winced at the memory of his cocky face, thinking that he had you finishing more than once. if at all. you leaned over the sink, washing your face off with cold water. 
your hands rested at the base of your neck. your reflection stared back at you, pitiful, the bruises beneath your eyes reflected a tiredness that the word ‘exhaustion’ could not begin to fathom. you were disappointed in yourself. that much was clear. 
a sigh escaped you when you finally mustered the courage to leave the bathroom. for the race today, you decided on a long dress. one that covered your chest, but hung on your shoulders. it was a beautiful piece. you’d been saving it for this weekend, and you were more than thankful that the universe seemed to be looking out for you. 
you tidied up your appearance the best you could and slid on a pair of heels, grimacing at the sore ache from the night before. raphael didn’t have a valet, so you had to walk across four blocks with his hands wandering down your sides, desperate to fuck you in an alleyway. ew. you shivered at the memory, but continued on from your hotel room.
though, you took one last glance before leaving, and let your eyes rest on the balcony. it felt like a dream to see lando sitting there, his face resting against the tender flesh of your stomach. his stubble itched through the cotton of your shirt, but it rather tickled. and then he said he didn’t know what he wanted with you, and your whole life slipped right through your fingers. 
he slipped through your fingers. 
you shut the door. 
lando’s morning, on the other hand, started off stellar in comparison to yours. he had stayed up a while longer, wondering if you would call him back, but you never did. there was a faint pang of disappointment, but much more guilt that he let you slip away so easily. he should’ve refused to leave your hotel room that night. refused by any force you attempted on him. 
but he’s just that much of a fucking idiot, wasn’t he? when he left for the paddock early that morning, he glanced at his phone one last time. one missed call, and it was from you last night. and then suddenly, his heart was warm, and there was a smile on his face.
all this told him was that there was a chance. you called him. you called him whether or not you were shitfaced. blackout drunk. in your vulnerable moments you thought of him. reached out for him. fuck, he was in love with you.
in love
he paused when he shut the door behind him, frozen in place. what? is that what this was? love? 
anxiety churned in his stomach. this feeling had been there for a while. a long time. and only now he was just realizing it. shit. 
he fiddled with his phone in his hands. thumb hovering over your contact card, he let it fall. 
it rang twice before he heard the line connect. 
“yeah?” you said, demure and quiet. he knew you were exhausted. he’s heard this tone before. the tone you had when you were viciously hungover. it had him chuckling. “what?” 
“good morning to you, too.” the words rolled easy from him. he suddenly felt calmer with you on the other end, but it didn’t stop the butterflies from fluttering in the pit of his stomach. 
“good morning.” you said, like you were shocked that he was calling you to say good morning. 
“fun night?” he asked, stepping into the elevator and hitting the ‘lobby’ button. a few members of his team were already waiting for him. 
 but you had froze up in the car ride to the paddock. what? how could he know? did he know that you were with raphael? you cleared your throat. “what– what do you mean?” 
“you called me.” 
shit. 
if you weren’t fucked already, you were royally now. your hand dragged over your forehead as your head swarmed with anxious thoughts, completely forgetting about calling him and then…touching yourself in the shower to the thought of him. yikes! what a little freak you were. but lando would enjoy it. 
“i–” you stuttered, voice caught in your throat. “i’m sorry…i was just…” 
your voice trailed and you could hear his childish laugh from the other end. “no, no. it was cute.” you heard the elevator ding from his end, but it hard to focus on when there was a deep blush flustering your cheeks. 
“i didn’t mean to bother you,” you quickly said, finding the need to apologize over and over again for disrupting his night. it was embarrassing enough as is that you had the worst sex of your life, but you called the one man that didn’t want you for consolidation. what a conundrum that was, wasn’t it? 
“you didn’t.” his words were firm this time, no traces of playfulness. you perked up at this, finding yourself laughing. 
“must’ve said something dumb, didn’t i?” 
there was a pause. 
“yeah. yeah. something dumb.” 
there was another beat of silence. you shifted in the uber, the pass around your neck.
“i’ll see you there?” 
you heard him suck in a tight breath, then release it. 
“yeah. yeah, ‘course you will.” 
you smiled. he could feel it. 
“okay. bye, then.” 
he said your name softly on the other end with a salutation, and the line went flat. you slammed your back against the leather seats of the car, hands rolling over your face. you rubbed your eyes, wondering if you were still dreaming. 
it wasn’t fair that he could make you this way. that he had you in tears just a few nights before, and now your fingers shook with excitement. fuck him. fuck him for making you feel this way, and yet, there was no trace of annoyance on your face. 
just a bright smile. 
your name was called when you swiped into the paddock. it had you whipping your head up to see who it could be, but you already knew that it was alexandra. she wasn’t trailed by anyone else, thank god, and she flung her arms around you for a hug. 
you sang a soft greeting towards her, and she looked up at you expectantly. you raised a brow. 
“so…!?” 
you narrowed your eyes. 
“your night with…!” her voice dropped to a whisper. “raphael.” 
you shushed her, looking around, before you held one of her hands in yours. “you want the truth?” her facial expression dropped, but she nodded anyways. 
“awful.” 
she groaned, head rolling back in disappointment. “i told rebecca it wasn’t a good idea.” 
“the sex was…horrible. just…i mean, what the fuck?” alexandra burst out into a laugh as the both of you joined side by side towards the ferrari hospitality. you dreaded going, given the unanswered texts for him, you didn’t want to be confronted with…anything. 
“most importantly…” alexandra stopped the two of you before you entered. “are you over him?” 
him. the inevitable. 
you swallowed. 
and nodded your head.
alexandra was only slightly pleased and gave you a reassuring smile. boy, this would be a long day. 
before the race started you were wandering around the pitlane with your miniature crew of ferrari girlfriends and their friends. raphael had found you, eagerly, with a prideful smile on his face. out of kindness, you returned the gesture, and let him linger around you for the day.
ferrari’s pit was next to mclaren’s. you couldn’t help but stare. 
lando was there. in his papaya race suit. he was speaking to his engineers, and never glanced your way. look at me, you wanted to shout. please, your mind begged. but you stayed firm at raphael’s side.
he dared to stretch out his hand to let it loiter on your waist, but you shimmied out of the contact with an awkward smile. he noticed, but didn’t say anything. 
lando did too. 
but not what you wanted him to see. he saw you with raphael’s arm around your waist. you were smiling, laughing, in their presence. whereas he couldn’t even bear a night out without the cumbersome thoughts of you constricting his mind. he thought of nothing but you. and here you were, haphazardly dangling this spanish prick in front of his face. fucker. 
you turned to look at lando again, free of raphael’s touch. he was staring.
your heart beat faster, eyes widened. your palms were sweating– why were they sweating? he looked pissed, frustrated, but you didn’t know why. your brows upturned with a soft expression that he yearned for, and his envy flushed away. 
it was that easy. your gentle features. the concern ridden in your face. 
you even gave him a small wave, twiddling your fingers. he was bashful in response, and returned it with a small twist of his own fingers. 
but his eyes carried down. towards your chest. you blinked, realizing that part of your dress had slipped further. there was an obvious bruise making an appearance, and you felt guilty. guilty as if you had cheated on him, but you were never in a relationship to begin with.
you saw his jaw tightened and his hands flex before he turned, leaving you speechless. 
and then you were dragged away, just like that, into the viewing panel for the race. they were about to start their formation lap, yet you could barely focus with your racing heart. 
it past with ease. raphael tried to get closer to you, but you found excuses to stay huddled at alexandra’s side. she noticed, and even wrapped her own arm around your waist. the two of you were a picturesque vision of divine femininity. you felt untouchable at her side, incomparable to any girlfriend you’ve ever had. 
lando was fighting hard. he was aggressive on the straits, pushing past the limits of his drs. your hand traced over your chin as you watched the tv intensely, frightened when you saw him make contact with one of the mercedes drivers. 
“what is he doing…” you muttered under your breath. your nailbeds were being hacked on by your teeth, chewing them down to the stump. parts of your thumbs streamed with blood. 
little to your knowledge, your reaction had been broadcasted. alexandra’s face unfurled with a cheeky look, realizing that she had been played by your deception from earlier. you were not over him. in fact, you were entirely worse than before. your concern was ebbed through the power of media, and that wouldn’t be forgotten. 
“are you okay?” came raphael’s voice. you didn’t even look at him.
“fine.” 
he took your cold tone in earnest, realizing that there was something more at stake here. 
you couldn’t be more grateful when lando passed the checkered flag. your hand found the column of your throat, finding comfort. you let your face be consumed by a smile, one similar to raphael’s when he thought he made you came. stupid man, you thought, glancing towards the spaniard. you had a new priority now.
you had to prove that you wanted lando. but how? everything felt like it was becoming too complicated. your fates were intertwined via an invisible string. 
and you didn’t even go to his podium.
he looked for you, sweat dripping down his forehead, but didn’t see you. it had him grow weary, agitated. he raced this hard so he could prove himself to you. prove that he was better than some lowlife. 
but he fears he lost you. 
the hickey’s on your neck spoke volumes. you fucked him. fucked that stranger. his fists curled around the trophy, break-necking the medal display. 
did you come? 
no. stop that. it’s none of his business to ask–
she didn’t. you couldn’t. 
the pieces began to fall in place in his head. the phone call. you called him…when you needed him most. 
it suddenly made holding this trophy all the more worthwhile, and he even donned a smile on his face when he raised it high above his head. this, he thought, was victory. 
the night came as swiftly as the day went. you were getting ready to go out, alexandra reminding you to schedule your uber. you did. the dress you wore this evening was short. one of your favorite colors, and had a high neckline. for obvious reasons. you were entirely mortified that raphael felt the primal need to mark you like some bitch. it had your stomach twisting with anger, fingers pulsing with a punch. 
but your violent urges stayed dormant when you met up with alexandra, charles, rebecca, carlos, and…raphael. jeez, what a lot you’ve surrounded yourself with. raphael was at your side in an instant when you climbed out of the uber, refusing to give you a morsel of space. it had your lip curling, grimacing down the vomit that curdled in your throat. 
you barely spoke a word to him tonight. there was nothing more to say to him. if you were to say anything, it would be a rotten lie. 
alexandra tugged you along through the doors, charles at her flank, which you gladly let her do. anything to get away from raphael would be best for you, given how much you didn’t want to confront him. it was just for the weekend, right? no strings attached. 
no strings attached, echoed through your mind. flashes of lando’s hands on your hips, the phantom embrace that tensed around your flesh, seeped into your head. your heart plummeted against your will, looking around futilely for his bright smile amongst the sea of oncomers. 
it didn’t take you long.
but you wish that it did. 
he had his arm slung around some girl, hat backwards, first few buttons undone on his white dress shirt. hands clamming up, you tightened them together over your front, letting your eyes gawk at such a beautiful pairing. it was a different girl than the one you had rudely met in monaco. 
another one of his girls. 
your mind begged you to let it go. but your heart chained itself to lando, refusing to let go this…infatuation that had you sick to your stomach. what did she have that you didn’t? was she nonchalant? was she a cool girl? 
your staring lasted too long. lando saw you. he felt your eyes– your heated stare, beckoning his attention. he answered your call, glancing directly at you. but he did not wave. 
neither did you. 
the urge thwarted you to look anywhere else but him, tugged your attention elsewhere, but you stayed firm on his freckled face, sharp cheekbones, his daunting stare. you felt the beat of his heart from across the room, the bass boosted rap, his irritability when raphael came to rest a hand on your hip. but you did not turn away from this fight. your arsenal was loaded, and so was his. 
lando glanced at raphael, first to break eye contact, and swug the rest of his cocktail in hand. he let the glass slide across the counter of the bar before tugging the girl at his side to his front, the pair of them dancing with one another. 
fine, if he wants to play, then you’ll play. 
you were handed a cocktail by raphael. you thanked him sincerely before you downed your own in one gulp. raphael gaped at you with a slack jaw. you wiped the loose drops from your jaw, and offered him your hand. 
“dance with me?” 
raphael didn’t need to be asked twice when he took your hand. you led him deeper into the club, the led lights brightening both your faces. in this light, you supposed that he was irrecoverably handsome. and the thought slipped through your mind that maybe, just maybe, you could’ve had a good life with him. that in some universe that you could get over this feud with a man who doesn’t want you, you’d have a well-earned chance at happiness. 
but the thought left just as quickly as it came. 
your hips were against his. ass against his crotch, grinding in a rough series of movements. he began growing accustomed to how you moved, and that much you could be thankful for. no longer would the two of you be awkward on the dance floor, fragile hands trembling against your body. he felt more confident, but you could tell there was something brewing behind those big brown eyes of his. but you honestly couldn’t care less, not when you were distracted. 
not when your eyes were entranced on a man who treated you like garbage. who cried in your arms, begged for your presence. then, left your hotel room with tears streaming down your face. 
his hands were tightly wound around the girls abdomen, cocky expression glazing his face. he spoke to a few of his buddies here, too, amply looking like a douche. one that who knew exactly what he was doing to girls. fuck. 
you were just one of his girls. 
this enraged you. but it shouldn’t. but it did. there was no excuse for your fray of emotions. they simply existed, and you were going to deal with them. not in a responsible way. no, you were far too gone for that. alcohol warmed your throat, your palms, your chest. 
you let your head lean back onto raphael’s shoulder, your mouth coming to his ear. “you can touch me.” you encouraged him. he seemed to lighten at this, becoming bold enough to let his hands trail up your body. he’d indulge in your shape, letting his fingers imprint against the globes of your breasts, the lining of your panties beneath your dress. 
a light giggle left you when you let your head rise from his blades, and were met with an aggressive, terrifying, stare from across the room. 
your lips puckered. 
lando’s head was resting on the girl’s shoulder, his hips swaying with hers, but his eyes were trained on you. you, you, and more you. he was glaring at the man behind you, his gaze so bitter that it soured even your own tongue. it was the miniscule amount of guilt that flustered your head, but you shoved it down. 
lando retaliated, beginning to kiss on the girls neck. she leaned against him, a gorgeous smile lighting up the room. 
you grumbled, turning your head to meet raphael’s eyes. your eyes pleaded with a language of seduction, one that any man could understand. 
raphael took the bait. 
his lips trailed down your ear, down the column of your neck. all whilst your back was pressed against his front, you felt the outline of his dick. your palm tightened at the memory of how he attempted to fuck you, but you had to remain composed. you couldn’t fail now. 
your lip caught between your teeth for dramatics. like you were holding back a moan. 
lando was watching. in fact, he never stopped. he was drunk on the addiction of watching you. watching you grind your hips on that fuckin’ guy, not even wince when his lips were glossing over the sensitive flesh of your neck. could he make you wet with just his mouth? 
the british driver could feel his end nearing. if this progressed any further, he’d drag your ass to the bathroom and fuck you like you’d deserve. he didn’t give a fuck. not anymore. not when your lip was bitten by your top row of teeth, an illusive point to how that guy was pleasuring you. he felt fucking sick. though he was starving to the same degree. 
his chest was aflame at your teasing touches on your own body. he could see the outline of your panties, the lack of a bra. your nipples were pinching against the fabric that confined them, and he had to stop himself from drooling. you were so fucking sexy. 
the girl at his front was growing bored of her lack of attention. he, honestly, didn’t even remember her name. but he’d suffice it with a swirl of his tongue around the skin of her jaw. it was a critical move, since he knew that you’d never let yourself be kissed. you wouldn’t risk such intimacy with a man you’ve only known for a few days–
except you would. 
this was war, wasn’t it? 
watching lando suck and slurp on that girl’s neck had you desperate to come up with an alternate idea. an approach that would crown you victorious without a second thought. it was cruel, you knew this, but you were out of options. you had something to prove. prove that you were over him. though, you knew that this would end in one of two ways;
him, fucking you.
or, him leaving. 
you much preferred the latter. 
with enough fury boiling in your bones, you lifted your head to meet raphael’s eyes. with your pointer finger, you let it roll over his chin, connecting with your thumb. you glanced at his lips, your tongue wetting your own, and pulled him to meet you. 
raphael said your name into your mouth, nervous to even let his tongue explore yours. you sucked in a tight breath, lip curling to reference a snarl at how much you despised the sensation. it was messy, wet, and you felt instantly disgusted with yourself for even letting him touch your lips. you felt like you jumped too far into a relationship with raphael, even though you were certain that you didn’t want one. 
“be my girlfriend,” raphael breathed into your mouth. you hummed a laugh, thinking that he was joking. but he moved to separate you too, staring at you with a brazen thoroughness that you never wished to see again. 
“i’m serious. i want–” 
“‘scuse me, mate,” you knew that voice. you knew that voice too well. your head spun around to see lando leering dangerously close to raphael’s face, the heat of his body emanating onto your own. he stood only a few inches from you.
you felt his hand ghost over the small of your back, and you suddenly felt desperate to feel it. with your lips raw from that kiss, your fingertip glazed over the flesh, your eyes lost in lando’s tense expression. his jaw was tightened, chest doing it’s best to keep his heated expression under control. however, that control was slipping with every passing moment that you were in raphael’s arms. 
raphael turned his attention to lando, suddenly pissed. “need something?” 
lando gave him a hoarse chuckle. “yeah. can i borrow your lady for a second?”
raphael made a move to shake his head. “no, we were just—”
“thanks, mate.” lando gripped your back with his fingertips, digging into the skin without mercy. you felt his anger rolling off of him in tense waves, the urge to consolidate him overwhelming. he led you through the crowds of people with an insurmountable force, jaw tightly clenched the entire way. you could practically hear his teeth grinding against one another. 
he said nothing until he opened– no, broke the door– to the bathroom. it was a single stall– no one was in there. he allowed you to enter first, stretching out his arm as a much needed signal. you waited a moment, arms crossing over your chest. 
his eyes didn’t relent. he would wait here all fucking day before you decided to go in. and you did. he locked the door behind the two of you in an instant. 
“what the fuck are you–” you began to scold, back turned to him as you approached the mirror and the sink. you were interrupted when he spun you around, hand place firmly on your hip. the contact had you gasping, glancing down at his hand. 
“so, what?” he said, looking down at you through hooded eyes, blown pupils. his heart was electrified, hidden behind his cage of ribs, and one hand flexed as it gripped the edges of the porcelain sink. he hummed, “hm? he your boyfriend now?”you gaped at him. “you’re serious?” you stifled a laugh, unbelieving of his attitude. “what’s it to you, lando? hm?”
his shoulders tensed. “you shouldn’t be with him.” 
you rolled your eyes. lando gripped your chin, demanding your attention. “why not, then? ‘m i supposed to be your whore forever?” 
his thumb rolled over your bottom lip. “you never were,” he tsked. you were bewildered. brow raising, however difficult to focus when his hand around your hip began to swirl circles on your skin. 
“what the fuck are you saying, then, lando? you need to–”
“you let him kiss you.” 
you froze. 
“never me. why?” his restraint was slipping. his forehead edged closer and closer to yours until you could feel his breath fanning across your face. 
“why?” he asked again, his nose brushing against your own. you shook your head ‘no,’ lip beginning to quiver beneath his body. his chest pressed against your own as he got closer. he needed to be closer. “he fuck you better? hm? that it?” 
you shuddered when you felt his fingers lower from your hip, trailing circles towards your navel, the slit of your dress that met your upper thigh. 
“go on,” he urged, his voice tense from gritting his teeth. “tell me. tell me, and i’ll stop.” 
you stayed quiet except for the whimper that left your throat when his fingers curled against your panties, a dampened spot ruining the fabric. there was a deep chuckle against your face, lando’s forehead still against your own. you tightened your lips together, not daring a word to spill. 
“tell me, and i’ll let you go party with your new boy.” 
“fuck you,” you bit out, seething with your desire, angered with his jealous antics. 
“yeah? yeah? you want ‘ta fuck me?” there was no way of hiding his cocky grin. it could be seen from miles away, even when his face was millimeters from yours. 
“you’re an asshole,” you heaved, your hips bucking when he began to slide your underwear to the side. your breaths were harsh against his cheeks. 
“must like ‘em mean, then,” he cooed, followed by a deep chuckle. “‘cause you’re drippin’ for me.” you felt your slick seep around his fingers as h grazed the puffy lips of your cunt. your head was thrown back against the concrete wall, smacking against the surface. lando was quick to adjust your head, his fingers tugging into your hair. 
“fuck,” you sighed, finding his pleasures undeniable. he was so on edge from seeing you kissing raphael, that he was lost in his madness. this pent up lust was bursting from its locked away jar, pouring its fury onto you. “touch me, lando. please–” 
with a swift motion he perched you onto the porcelain sink, your head lolling against the mirror, supported by his palm. he tugged you forward so your glossy cunt stained the front of his black pants. the wet spot was pertinent, your face flushing with embarrassment. you were supposed to hate this. why did you love it? 
“‘am touchin’ you, baby.” his middle finger teased you, blessing you with a split moment of euphoria of grazing your clit. you moaned, eyes fluttering shut. “look at me,” his hand tightened in your hair. your eyes flashed open, face to face with his crooked, loving smile. “look at me when i make you cum.”
you nodded, whimpering rapidly. he grinned harder at your desperate, pleading tone. though you spoke no words, he could tell just how badly you needed him. 
“inside,” your begging didn’t cease, especially when he was still refusing to slide a finger inside of you. “please, please—”
your words were cut off when his middle finger curled sweetly inside of you, eliciting the sweetest pleasure you have felt in weeks. the moan you delivered was guttural, deep, and most of all, primal. lando’s dick pulsated in his pants, his fingers twitching at your lewd voice. 
a hand reached out to grip onto his bicep, your head falling into the crook of his neck. you felt undeniably at ease in his hold, despite the hurt that he’s caused you. 
his finger began to slide in and out of you, scissoring you to high hell and back, and you were putty in his hands. moments like these is what he favored most with you, but he would take anything to be in your presence. he didn’t feel an ounce of guilt when he swooped you up from that asshole’s arms, leaving him shocked and disrespected. lando was keen enough to twist his head over his shoulder when he led you away, watching as raphael’s face contorted with disappointment. it had his jaw tensing, resisting the urge to smirk. 
“come on, baby,” lando’s voice cut through your high, your naval tightening with a hot pressure. “know you’re close. can feel it.” 
he added a second finger, using his thumb to roll over your sensitive bundle of nerves. the stimulation was overwhelming, your throat raw with the carnal moans he drew from your depths. he’d be the only one to hear any of these ever again. he promised himself that much. 
your orgasm was imminent, the coil in your belly snapping with a hopeless yearning you’ve been deprived of for what feels like an eternity. slick covered the palm of his hand, and your eyes had locked onto his. he watched as you trembled with desire, legs twitched around his waist. with one quick move he brought his two fingers to your lips.
you knew what he wanted. 
you’ve never tasted yourself before. but your lips parted, and he lathered your slick over your tongue. you sucked in earnest over his calloused digits, lips puckering, cheeks hollowing. you swallowed, letting your tongue linger over his fingertips.
“now you know,” he whispered, clutching you tight. “why i can’t stay away.” for a brief moment, you thought he was mentioning because of the taste of your cunt. but with the deep look in his eyes, you knew it meant more. you were made for him. both in spirit and sensuality. 
lando spun you around from your seat atop the sink, having you flipped, staring at your reflection in the mirror. you look disheveled, and downright fucked. your feet met the ground, the palm of his hand spreading over the expanse of your back, flattening you to a ninety degree angle. 
“lift your hips for me, love,” you obeyed without second thoughts, rising to your tip toes as he ran his fingers along the underside of your thighs, pulling down the fabric of your panties. they hit the floor, and your cunt went rigid with the cold air. but you heard lando making fast work with his belt, his jeans, and you sifted back and forth. you even turned to look at him over your shoulder, lashes batting unintentionally at the spring of his cock against his lower belly. 
“missed this,” he breathed, saddling his hand at the base of your neck. you pushed into his hold, deepening the connection. 
your exhaustion didn’t impede your ability to get fucked. that was for sure. lando wasn’t going to spare a single effort on your behalf. he was riled, pent up, and now he wanted to see tears in your eyes as you were split open on his cock. it was a promise. 
“missed you.” you mumbled. lando’s hand tightened around the frontal base of your throat. 
“what was that?” 
you whimpered. “missed you!”
“atta girl.” he was pleased with your higher volume, and awarded you by edging the tip of his cock through your folds. you lurched forward, gripping onto the dish of the sink. a deep groan left you, and he gave you a grace period to adjust. but it took too long. you wanted him deep. bottomed out. until there was nothing else for you to give. 
“show me,” you grit your teeth. “show me he’s not good enough.” 
your words seemed to ignite a flame inside of lando that couldn’t be ignored. you felt him huff air, the sensation tickling your spine, and he thrust himself inside of you. forget a grace period, you were going straight to heaven. 
you moaned, his cock stimulating a perverse area inside your cunt that no man could ever reach. lando was out for blood to prove that he was the only man that could truly fuck you. and fuck you he would. 
the sound of skin slapping echoed through the bathroom. your moans intertwined with his mewls, creating an atmosphere derived from both of your pleasures alone. nothing would ever compare to this feeling. how he curved deliciously inside of you, how you tightened so mercilessly around his cock. he’d let himself run dry so he could feel your tight walls each night. 
the pressure of his hand around your throat didn’t relent. with his index and thumb squeezing at every point he bottomed out, you swore you were seeing stars. you were an irrecoverable mess in lando’s arms, and that’s just the way he wanted you. in the reflection of the mirror stared the fading marks that fucker left on your skin. but he was determined to make his own. and it was different that you’d let him. without a doubt, he could bite through your skin, make you bleed for all you fucking cared. 
“who’s fucking you this good?” lando asked, hand tightening briefly for your response. you were lost in your haze, unable to truly focus on his words. your brows furrowed. 
“you,” you said, breathless, clenching onto the sink with all your prospective might. 
“who?” he prodded further, opposite hand coming to rub at your clit. you seethed, breath tightening in your throat. tears burned at your retinas, the skillful work of his fingers bringing you to an oncoming orgasm. lando felt it, and paused his fingers. 
you whimpered, then looked at him in the mirror. he loomed like no man you’ve ever seen. darkened eyes, sweaty hair. fuck, he’s so hot. “you!” 
his fingers returned their assault on your clit, and you could feel the burning heat once more. you grinded hopelessly against the palm of his hand, which he responded as to pinching the bundle of nerves atop your cunt to with more pressure. 
it didn’t take long before you were keeling over the sink, his hand around your neck forcing you to arch before him. with your unbearably tight cunt, he came with you, filling you with hot ropes of cum. the feeling of him warm, vested in your walls brought you a comfort like nothing else. 
lando’s head fell forward with his heaving chest onto the base of your neck. his heart was beating so fast, you could feel it. you lifted yourself from the downward angle of the sink, his hands coming to steady you despite his exhaustion. 
“i lied to you before,” he spoke into the skin of your neck. too fucked out to really process what he was saying, you turned slightly to catch one of his eyes. “you aren’t a favorite.”
you frowned, still confused, heart feeling ripped open once more. 
“you’re the only girl.” 
you turned fully this time to face him. 
“what?”
“you heard me.” you did. that was true. but what you didn’t believe was true, was his words. 
“don’t…” you begged. “don’t play with me anymore, lan…” the nickname rolled off your tongue with ease. “i can’t…i can’t wait for someone who doesn’t…” love, “want me the same.”
lando brushed a stray hair from your forehead. he let himself lean into you. your bodies fit together perfectly. 
“what do you want, then?” 
your voice was caught in your throat. there was a million things you wanted, but there was only one thing you needed. 
“i need you.” 
need cut through his body like wild flower to barley. need was the mending his heart needed. need was the remedy of his uncertainties about you. 
his face upturned into a smile. 
“i can’t do this,” he said, taking a breath. “any of this, without you. need you here, with me,” with his forehead touching yours, you could feel his lashes against your browline. 
“lando…”
he shook his head. your name was soft on his tongue. “please, please, stay with me. i should’ve never left that hotel room. never.” 
your cheeks were wet. but they weren’t from your tears. his. his lip was quivering when you opened your eyes, his own shut as if he were too afraid to face you. 
and instead of answering him with words, you tilted your head up, and let your lips collide with his. torn into shock, lando’s eyes flew open, unbelieving of what was happening. you were kissing him. your lips on his, intimate. you wanted to be intimate with him, not just fuck him. 
his eyes fluttered shut, and his hand came to wrap around the back of your neck. he returned your kiss, tongue eager to explore the cavern of your mouth, and you let him. you had been afraid to let him kiss you, fearful that you would become addicted to this pleasure. 
you were right in your fear. there was never a universe where you wouldn’t be drunk on his tongue, craving his teeth clashing with your own. it was an ensued battle with your mouths, one you weren’t going to relent easily. but he remained victorious and let his tongue run over yours. the two of you were inseparable, body and spirit. 
there was finally a blasted knock on the bathroom door, which had you jumping. lando turned his head over his shoulder, and was quick to drop to his knees to roll your panties back up. 
“like you down there,” you commented from him on his knees. he turned to look at you with a knowing smirk, and kissed the skin of your thighs. when he stood at his full height, he adjusted his own pants, looking presentable enough. 
“beautiful.” he complimented, leaning in for a plethora of kisses. he kissed all around your mouth, your nose, your jaw, before he landed on your mouth.
“i love you,” he blurted out against your lips. you gaped at him and he was worried you wouldn’t feel the same. but the two of you knew this answer for a long, long time. 
your brows upturned. “i love you too.” 
his hand fell on your lower back, guiding you out of the bathroom. “guess you’re my girl now, yeah?” 
you slapped his bicep. “we have a lot to talk about, but for tonight…” you nodded. 
he was happy enough with that answer. 
“gotta let raphael down easy…” you mumbled as lando held the door open for you. 
“oh…!” he said in an exaggerated tone. “that’s what his name is.” 
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fangirl-dot-com · 14 hours
Text
🎮 Go Outside and Touch Some Grass
*part of the best of both worlds series*
Driver: Max Verstappen Genre: SMAU/Fluff Occupation: Streamer
☆ TAG LIST IS CLOSED ☆ *if you were not tagged I could not find you*
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f1wags in honor of max reaching 1 million subscribers on twitch, here is a little biography for the new fans
max emilian verstappen is a dutch streamer most known for his hilarious sim racing and trying to play call of duty. max has been dating red bull's number 1 driver, y/n l/n, since late 2021. he is 26 years old, only 3 years older than y/n. as of right now, he lives in Monaco with l/n in their shared apartment, but does have another house in the Netherlands close to his mom (y/n and he go there often).
the pair has two bengal cats, jimmy and sassy, that they both love.
max was most known for dating model kelly piquet from 2019 to early 2021, but the couple had a mutual breakup. max first met y/n at a fan event after max placed first in one of the first Red Bull F1 challenges. everyone says they hit it off during summer break.
a little hidden fact is that max used to kart with Ferrari's Charles Leclerc when they were younger. an interview video resurfaced and many fans now love to tease the two whenever they're seen together. click here for the link!
max is very well loved in the f1 community since he is l/n's second public boyfriend. they couple are very private but not hidden, just the way they like it. please treat our cat loving wag well!
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y/nl/n1 and that's number 9! simply lovely to have equaled my record once again this year! hoping I can hit 10 and 11 during this triple header!
thank you to all who came out today. you mean the world to me 🧡
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maxverstappen I love you schatje! keep up the good work 🧡
y/nl/n1 🧡😘
y/n.nation every time I try to beat max to the likes but he's always there first
maxs_keyboard I was once just a fan of max, but I'm glad I'm an f1 fan now!
simracersunite anyone else here from that tweet this past weekend? didn't even know this sport existed
cashmoney meeeee! but now that I've seen this queen dominate a lot of men, I'm here for her now
charles_leclerc maybe let us make some new records?
y/nl/n1 how about you just start winning more? 🧐
maxverstappen what she said Charles ☺️
charles_leclerc I will cause another incident max 😒
redbullracing that's our girl 🧡💙
maxverstappen no. mine.
y/nsworld congrats queen 👑
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maxverstappen glad to be back in the paddock to cheer on my lovely girlfriend! thank you redbullracing for the invite :D
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maxverSTOPen EVERY TIME I TRY TO BEAT Y/N AND SHE'S ALREADY HERE???
streammv was glad to see you on the big screen max!
maximillianver GUYS WHAT ARE ALL THESE F1 FANS DOING IN THE LIKES
maxsworld 🤺 stay back we had him first
y/nl/n1 my lucky charm 🥰
maxverstappen I think you can win without me but thank you 🥺
twitchoverall what's next, someone is going to tell me that Lando Norris is also an f1 driver and not just a streamer??
ln4fan uh mate, I think you need to sit down for this one
maxskeyboard HAPPY 1 MILLION SUBS MAX
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y/nl/n1 quick back home before Silverstone!
max wouldn't get off his stream tho, so I had to kidnap him (sorry twitch)
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y/nschild LET IT BE KNOWN I WAS HERE BEFORE MAX
charles_leclerc let me know if jimmy and sassy want to have a play date with Leo 😊
y/nl/n1 definitely soon Charlie! maybe summer break?
maxverstappen our children are not going to play with that dog
y/nl/n1 but maaxxx, they can be besties 🥺
charles_lerclerc 🥺
maxverstappen fine. one playdate is all you get leclerc.
maxsworld I guess we can't gatekeep max anymore 😭
max&kelly I still think max could do better 🙄
biggestkellyhater please rethink your statement. kelly was borderline a pedophile and max was so depressed he didn't stream for months. we should be thanking y/n for making max the happiest he has ever been
y/nxmax and that's on PERIOD 💅
verstappencats awwww jimmy and sassy update 🥺
streamonmax sooooo when is the next stream king?
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gyuuberryy · 2 days
Text
teeth
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“let's play together, you make me so thirsty”
pairing: vampire!heeseung x reader
synopsis: you were not thrilled about the move in of your new neighbour. mostly because he was so strange and seemed to be hiding something dark. and partly because you couldn’t stop yourself from getting closer to him because of your unwanted attraction. you were determined to expose his dark secret and get rid of him once and for all. but, it was proving to be a difficult task because he was just so irresistible..and needy.
genre: enemies to lovers, vampire au
warnings: lots of suggestive content!!(read at your own discretion), blood, alcohol, getting trapped in a lift, making out, teeth and biting(obviously)
note: this is like my first time writing something suggestive so i was a little nervous, but i think it turned out well! there's no smut tho. teeth is such a freaky song teehee, i hope this gives off the same vibes. listen to the song while reading this, enjoy!
word count: 5.2k
if you liked it please reblog or comment to give me your feedback! <3
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fairy lights strung across the hallway cast a warm glow on the gaggle of your neighbours crammed into the shared corridor. plates heaped with enough food to feed a small army overflowed from a makeshift table, the air thick with the aroma of baked ziti and something suspiciously like burnt brownies.
it was the monthly floor potluck, a supposed chance for neighbourly bonding. you, however, stood alone by the shoe rack, arms crossed and a scowl firmly in place.
the source of your discontent? lee heeseung, the new resident in 3B. he'd moved in a week ago, and in that short time, had managed to charm the socks off everyone else. mrs. kim from 3A gushed about his "angelic smile," mr. lee from across the hall swore he'd single-handedly fixed the perpetually leaky faucet, and even the ever-grumpy mrs. park from 2B had softened to his "polite demeanour." you, however, weren't buying it.
there was something… off about him. he was a little too pale, a little too perfect. the way his eyes seemed to glint in the fairy lights sent shivers down your spine, not the good kind. maybe it was the way he never seemed to eat anything, politely declining every dish offered with a charming smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. or maybe it was just a gut feeling, a primal instinct screaming that there was more to heeseung than met the eye.
as you nursed your lukewarm coffee, heeseung materialised beside you, a plate piled high with (uneaten) pasta in his hand. his smile, as always, was dazzling.
"hey there! i'm heeseung, from 3b. i’ve been meaning to meet you for a while! everyone's been raving about you."
you narrowed your eyes at him. "is that right?"
he chuckled, a sound a little too melodious. "absolutely! they say you make the best chocolate chip cookies on the floor." he gestured to the burnt offering on the table. "though, these brownies look like they could use some work."
a sarcastic snort escaped your lips. "they're mrs. park's. apparently, baking isn't her forte."
heeseung's smile faltered for a brief moment, a flicker of something unreadable crossing his features before he recovered. "well, maybe next time you could bring your famous cookies," he suggested, his voice smooth as silk.
you raised an eyebrow, suspicion solidifying in your gut. "maybe i will," you said, your voice devoid of warmth.
heeseung seemed to hesitate, the air crackling with a strange tension. then, with another dazzling smile, he excused himself and moved on to mrs. kim, who was already gushing about his "nonexistent" culinary skills.
you watched him go, a cold dread settling in your stomach. he might be fooling everyone else, but you wouldn't be swayed by his facade. there was something about heeseung, something dark and unsettling, and you were determined to find out what it was.
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weeks bled into months, and your suspicions about heeseung only intensified. he'd become the bane of your existence, a charming yet infuriating shadow that seemed to follow you around the building. every potluck, every hallway encounter was a constant push and pull between your icy suspicion and his playful facade.
he revelled in teasing you, his compliments bordering on flirtatious. "looking lovely today, aren’t you?" he'd purr, his eyes gleaming with an amusement that sent shivers down your spine. you'd counter with sarcastic remarks that usually sailed right over his head, leaving you more frustrated than ever.
one particularly rainy afternoon, you were rushing down the hallway, arms laden with groceries, when the treacherous floor betrayed you. your foot slipped, and you went sprawling towards the cold tile. but before you could hit the ground, strong arms wrapped around you, pulling you upright with surprising ease.
for a moment, you were trapped in heeseung's embrace. your ear was pressed against his chest, and a jolt of fear shot through you. there was no comforting thud of a heartbeat, just a chilling silence. his touch was icy cold, sending a wave of goosebumps erupting across your skin.
you scrambled away from him, a mixture of terror and anger twisting your features. "don't touch me!" you hissed, dropping a bag of groceries with a clatter.
heeseung straightened, his smile unwavering. "whoa there. just trying to be a good neighbour."
you glared at him, your voice trembling. "there's nothing neighbourly about you, heeseung. what are you?"
his smile faltered for a flicker of a second, a flicker you caught this time. but it was gone as quickly as it appeared, replaced by his usual charming facade. "just a guy who likes to help out a damsel in distress," he said, his voice laced with amusement.
but the amusement didn't reach his eyes. they held a glint of something predatory, something that confirmed your worst fears. he wasn't normal. and whatever he was, it was becoming increasingly clear that he was toying with you.
you grabbed the remaining grocery bags, clutching them tightly to your chest as if they were a shield. "don't think this is over, heeseung," you hissed, your voice surprisingly steady despite the fear gnawing at your insides. "i'll find out who you are, and i'll expose you."
he tilted his head, a playful glint back in his eyes. "is that a challenge, darling?" he asked, his voice a low murmur that sent shivers down your spine. "be careful what you wish for. you might just find out more than you bargained for."
with that cryptic message hanging in the air, he turned and sauntered back to his apartment, leaving you alone in the hallway, the weight of his words and the chilling memory of his touch settling over you like a shroud. you were determined to unravel the mystery of heeseung, but a new, terrifying question gnawed at you: were you prepared for what you might find?
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sleep evaded you that night. the unsettling encounter with heeseung replayed on a loop in your mind. you tossed and turned, the silence punctuated only by the rhythmic tapping of rain against your window. finally, unable to bear the tension any longer, you crept out of bed and tiptoed towards the door, hoping to get some fresh air.
just as you were about to unlock the door the ‘ding’ of the elevator’s arrival stopped you in your tracks. who could it be this late at night?
peeking through the peephole, you were met with a sight that sent a fresh wave of terror coursing through you. heeseung stood casually a few feet away from your door, the rain slicking his dark hair back from his forehead.
he was whistling a cheerful tune, completely oblivious to your scrutiny. but what truly sent shivers down your spine was the state of his hands. they were stained with something dark and viscous, drying in the cool night air. it looked… suspiciously like blood.
the blood ran cold in your veins. just as you were about to pull back, heeseung paused, his head tilting ever so slightly as if he could sense you watching. a slow, unnerving smirk spread across his face, his eyes seeming to lock with yours through the peephole. how? it was impossible.
panic clawed at you. you stumbled back, adrenaline flooding your system. you had to warn the others. heeseung couldn't be trusted.
the next day, you stormed into mrs. kim's apartment, her usual cheery demeanour replaced by a frantic urgency. you blurted out everything – the coldness, the lack of a heartbeat, and the bloodstains you witnessed the night before.
mrs. kim, however, listened with a furrowed brow. "blood? are you sure, dear? heeseung wouldn't hurt a fly."
heeseung, conveniently appearing in the midst of your outburst, played the part of the concerned neighbour perfectly.
"is everything alright here?" he asked, his voice dripping with feigned innocence. "seems a little tense."
mrs. kim just dismissed him, shaking her head with a small chuckle, “nothing dear, it’s not important.”
his smile was disarming, his eyes brimming with feigned innocence. "oh i see. what were you two talking about so intently then?"
you glared at him, your voice trembling with barely contained anger. "i was just telling mrs. kim about your… unusual habits." you recounted the previous night's events, your gaze flitting between mrs. kim and heeseung.
heeseung chuckled, a light, airy sound that sent shivers down your spine. immediately, his expression morphed into one of concern, looking at mrs kim. "hasn’t she been acting strangely lately? maybe a little… stressed?"
his words stung. he was twisting the narrative, making you seem paranoid and delusional. your frustration grew, your voice rising as you tried to explain what you saw, but your neighbour's eyes held only pity and dismissal.
mrs. kim patted your hand soothingly. "maybe you're just a little stressed, dear. heeseung's a good boy, always looking out for everyone. don't you worry about him."
shame burned in your cheeks. you were alone, your warnings falling on deaf ears. heeseung's smile widened, the glint in his eyes predatory.
"see?" he said, his voice low and menacing, but directed only at you. "sometimes, silence is the best policy."
with that, he turned and sauntered away, leaving you trapped in a nightmare you couldn't seem to wake up from.
back in your apartment, you sank onto the couch, a defeated sigh escaping your lips. you were alone, your suspicions dismissed as paranoia. but the image of heeseung's bloodstained hands, his chilling smirk, burned into your memory. you wouldn't give up. you had to find a way to expose him, to prove to everyone that the perfect neighbour was nothing but a monster in disguise.
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the bass vibrated through the floor, the air thick with sweat and the sweet scent of spilled cocktails. you were lost in the music, laughing with your friends, a rare moment of reprieve from the constant worry that was heeseung. the tipsy buzz from the vodka-cranberries only amplified the carefree feeling, pushing his unsettling presence to the back of your mind.
tipsy from a few too many drinks, you excused yourself, needing a momentary escape from the pulsating heat of the dance floor of the club. the cool night air was a welcome change as you stepped into the balcony, the cityscape shimmering under the neon glow. a sudden prickle ran down your spine, making you stop mid-step. it was the distinct feeling of someone's gaze boring into you, a predator sizing up its prey.
your heart hammered against your ribs as you spun around, searching the crowd. there, leaning against the wall opposite the club entrance, stood heeseung. his perfect features were cast in shadow, but the glint of his eyes in the darkness sent a shiver down your spine. he held a drink in his hand, his knuckles white around the glass, as if tightening his grip to control himself.
the moment you locked eyes with him, the air crackled with a tension so thick you could almost taste it. it wasn't just fear this time. there was a strange undercurrent, a dark energy that seemed to emanate from him.
your mind, fuzzy from the alcohol, couldn't quite grasp it, but your body reacted instinctively. panic surged through you, erasing the tipsy haze. this wasn't the charming neighbour; this was the dangerous entity you'd glimpsed before.
you didn't waste a second. turning on your heel, you practically sprinted back into the club, weaving through the crowd. your breath came out in ragged gasps, fueled by a cocktail of fear and the alcohol throbbing in your veins.
with a desperate lunge, you pushed open the nearest door, the sign above it proclaiming it a restroom.
just as you fumbled for the lock, a strong hand shot past your shoulder, wedging itself between the door and the frame. you froze, staring in horror as heeseung casually pushed his way in behind you. he slammed the door shut with a sickening thud, the lock clicking ominously behind him.
he cornered you against the door, his body acting as a wall and a scent that was both familiar and strangely intoxicating. the air crackled with unspoken tension, thick with the remnants of your fear and an undeniable spark of…something else.
“what do you think you’re doing?”, you winced at how weak your voice sounded.
he leaned impossibly close, his breath chilly against your ear. he seemed to be tipsy as well, with the way he stumbled and invaded your personal space.
the alcohol loosened your inhibitions, and his voice, usually smooth and playful, now had a dark, alluring edge to it.
"you looked beautiful dancing under those lights," he whispered, his words sending shivers down your spine. "such a shame you seem to hate me so."
his nearness was overwhelming. you couldn't feel any heat radiating from his body, but the way his lips brushed against your ear sent a jolt through you. his voice, usually smooth as silk, now had a rough edge, sending a shiver down your spine that wasn't entirely unpleasant.
your mind, fuzzy from the alcohol, struggled to process the situation. he was terrifying, yes, but a strange, confusing attraction warred with the fear simmering beneath the surface.
your gaze latched onto the physical beauty in front of you - the sharp angles of his jaw, the way the moonlight glinted off his dark brown eyes. all the warnings you'd tried to ignore hammered against your intoxicated mind, but for some reason, they held no power in the face of the undeniable magnetism of the man pinning you to the door.
“what do you want from me”, your words came out in a hushed whisper, scared as if speaking any louder would ruin the moment.
his gaze flitted down to your lips as he got closer to you, now only a breath away. he leaned closer, the scent of something foreign, yet oddly alluring, invading your senses.
his gaze dropped to your lips, painted a soft pink from the drinks you'd consumed.
before you could register the movement, his lips were on yours. the kiss was a whirlwind of conflicting emotions – the initial shock giving way to a surge of heat that defied logic. his hand slid down your back, pressing you flush against the wooden door.you clung to him, a confused mix of fear and a thrilling sense of forbidden desire coursing through you.
the kiss deepened, becoming desperate, hungry. he tasted of something sweet and metallic, a strange anomaly that sent a jolt through your system. you ignored it, caught up in the intoxicating whirlwind.
his body was freezing cold, save for his lips, his skin a contrast against the heat from your body which made a wave of concern rise up in the back of your head. but it was all forgotten as his hand moved to your neck, his fingers trailing a chilly path before dipping behind your ear.
you gasped at the sudden feeling, and heeseung took the opportunity to let his tongue enter your mouth. the kiss got messier and hotter, as if he was trying to devour you whole.
he rained kisses down your jawline, each one a searing brand against your skin. his touch sent shivers of anticipation down your spine, your breath hitching as you felt his teeth graze a sensitive spot.
it wasn't a bite, not yet. it was a brush, a feather-light caress that sent a jolt through your system. but it wasn't just the touch. there was something… different about his canines. they were sharper, pointier than human teeth, and the sensation sent a wave of surprise through you.
he froze, the movement of his mouth stopping abruptly. his breath hitched in his throat, coming out in ragged gasps like a predator startled mid-hunt. his eyes, locked on your neck, flickered with a mix of hunger and… something else. a flicker of remorse, a struggle you couldn't quite decipher.
the tension in the room was suffocating. you stared back at him, your mind a tangled mess of confusion and desire. but before you could form a question, before you could understand the shift in him, heeseung pulled away. his grip on your neck loosened, replaced by a cold indifference.
his eyes, once filled with a dark desire, now held a chilling emptiness. the warmth of his body vanished as he stepped back, leaving you feeling exposed and vulnerable. he stared at you for a long, agonising moment, his eyes unreadable.
then, in a swift movement, he turned and walked out of the bathroom, leaving you pressed against the door, the memory of the heated kiss a stark contrast to the cold dread settling in your stomach.
the heat of the kiss still lingered on your lips, a confusing memory tainted by the chilling realisation of what he truly was. you cradled your neck, the phantom sensation of his sharp touch lingering long after he was gone.
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days bled into a strange silence. the unsettling encounters with heeseung, once a daily occurrence, had vanished. you wouldn't normally miss his presence, but the sudden absence gnawed at you with an unsettling curiosity. you found yourself glancing down the hallway at his door more often than you cared to admit, the memory of the stolen kiss replaying in your mind in a confusing loop.
the thought of venturing to his apartment, of seeking him out after the charged encounter in the washroom, sent a jolt of nervous energy through you.
shame burned in your cheeks at the memory of the heated kiss, a stark contrast to the chilling way he'd left you. yet, a sliver of concern gnawed at you. his absence was unnerving.
finally, curiosity, laced with apprehension, won over your better judgement. you stood outside his door, heart hammering a frantic rhythm against your ribs. taking a deep breath, you raised your hand and knocked tentatively.
the silence stretched for what felt like an eternity before the door creaked open a sliver. heeseung stood there, his face pale and drawn, dark circles smudging the area under his eyes. he looked… unwell.
"heeseung?" you ventured, surprised by the concern that slipped into your voice. "are you alright? you look terrible."
he didn't answer, just stared at you with an icy indifference that sent a shiver down your spine. the playful glint in his eyes, once so unsettling, was replaced by a hollowness that chilled you to the bone.
heeseung scoffed, a harsh sound that scraped against your nerves. "i'm fine. now leave."
the hostility in his voice stung. the concern you felt evaporated, replaced by a cold anger.
"look," you snapped, "i just came to see if you were okay. but clearly, you don't want the help."
he scoffed, a humourless sound. "of course not. why would i need help from the likes of you?"
he slammed the door shut before you could retort, leaving you standing alone in the hallway, the echo of his harsh words ringing in your ears. shame burned in your cheeks, a confusing mix of hurt and anger churning in your gut.
how dare he act like you were the villain? he was the one who made your life a living nightmare, the one with secrets that sent shivers down your spine.
scowling, you berated yourself for your momentary lapse in judgement. you hated him. you had to.
he was a danger, a monster in disguise. yet, the flicker of something vulnerable you'd glimpsed in his eyes, the way he'd pulled away so abruptly… it was a confusing puzzle you couldn't seem to solve.
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heeseung stumbled out of his apartment, a desperate lurch in his gait that spoke volumes of his weakened state. he fumbled with grabbing his keys, nearly dropping them, before finally unlocking the deadbolt.
he needed to get out, anywhere but the suffocating confines of his apartment. he threw a glance down the hallway, hoping for an empty elevator, but his luck had run dry. the red "in use" light mocked him above the metal doors.
he slammed on the button, urgency pushing past the haze in his head. as the doors dinged open, revealing you standing there, his heart sank.
heeseung flinched back, shuffling into the corner like a wounded animal. "get… out," he rasped, his voice barely a whisper.
"seriously?" you scoffed, following him with your glare. "that makeout session in the club must have been rough if you can't even stand the sight of me now."
heeseung remained silent, the effort of breathing stealing his focus. you rolled your eyes, muttering under your breath about his lack of manners. you turned away, choosing to ignore him.
suddenly, the elevator lurched to a halt, plunging the cramped space into slight darkness. a metallic groan filled the air.
"great," you sighed, reaching for the call button. "looks like we're stuck."
a strained voice answered through the speaker, informing you that a technician would be on their way shortly.
"shortly?" you groaned. "how long is shortly?"
"it's hard to say, ma'am. there's been a minor fault in the system."
you groaned, sinking down onto the floor.
heeseung remained silent, his body trembling. every passing second felt like an eternity. hunger gnawed at him, a primal urge clawing its way to the surface. he gritted his teeth, fighting against the monstrous transformation that threatened to take over.
"hey," he rasped, his voice barely a whisper.
you shot him a sceptical glance. "what?"
shame burned in his throat, but the need for survival outweighed his pride. "do you… by any chance… have any blood on you?"
you leaned closer, your suspicions finally confirmed.
"about time you admitted it," you cheered, a triumphant smirk creeping across your face. "i knew you weren't normal."
heeseung let out a dark chuckle, a sound devoid of humour. "don't get too excited," he rasped. "you shouldn't be so happy about this."
"oh, come on," you scoffed. "spill it. what are you? some kind of freak?"
a tense silence followed, broken only by the hum of the faulty elevator. finally, he spoke, his voice barely a whisper.
"vampire."
shock flooded your system. it was one thing to suspect, another to hear it confirmed.
"no way," you scoffed, refusing to believe it. "vampires don't exist."
but his next words sent a shiver down your spine. "the reason i stopped you at the club… it wasn't because of the kiss. it was the smell of your blood. it was… intoxicating."
"ever since i've met you…" he began, his voice surprisingly soft despite the edge of desperation in it. "the smell of your blood, so sweet, has been driving me crazy. so different from anything i've ever encountered."
he paused, a tremor running through his voice. "for years, i've resisted feeding on humans. morality, you might call it. i rely on animal blood, a poor substitute at best. but your blood…" he took a shaky breath, "it was like a siren song. after that night, i can’t even smell any other type of blood without my stomach churning in disgust."
you listened intently, a strange fascination battling with the fear that coiled in your gut. this wasn't the heeseung you knew, the playful neighbor who reveled in teasing you. this was a creature raw and exposed, driven by a primal need he could barely articulate.
"years," he continued, his voice cracking slightly. "years of animal blood, a constant reminder of what i can't have. but then you…" he trailed off, the echo of that night in the club hanging heavy between you.
a shiver ran down your spine, but it wasn't entirely from fear. there was a vulnerability in his confession, a desperate need for something more than just sustenance.
"the challenge," he said, his voice gaining a tinge of bitterness. "the forbidden fruit. maybe that's what drew me in at first. but then…" he hesitated, a flicker of something akin to shame crossing his features.
"then what?" you prompted, your voice barely a whisper. this wasn't how you'd imagined confronting a vampire, yet here you were, drawn into his story.
"don't you see?" heeseung's voice rose, a tremor of desperation colouring it. "you make me weak, vulnerable. yet, your defiance only intensifies the pull. you're everything i shouldn't want, everything i crave."
the revelation sent a jolt through you, a terrifying mix of fear and… something else. the line between predator and prey seemed to blur in the confines of the elevator. you were trapped, yes, but there was also a strange sense of being held hostage by a creature consumed by a desire he both craved and loathed.
the silence that followed heeseung's confession stretched on, thick with a tension that was no longer just fear. you understood him, perhaps better than he understood himself.
taking a deep breath, you surprised yourself by what you said next. "maybe there’s another way."
heeseung's head snapped up, his eyes searching your face in the dim light. "what do you mean?"
"i can help" you held out your wrist, the moonlight filtering through a crack in the elevator door illuminating the delicate veins beneath your skin. "you said you needed blood. maybe i can…
he recoiled as if struck. "no. absolutely not. i won't—"
"heeseung," you interrupted, your voice firm despite the tremor in your heart. "look at me. i'm not scared. in fact…" you hesitated, a blush creeping up your neck. "maybe i… feel the same way."
the air crackled with a new kind of tension. heeseung stared at you, his face a mask of disbelief. "the same way? how?"
"like you said," you whispered, "forbidden. a dangerous attraction." you met his gaze, holding it with a newfound resolve. "if this is what you need, i… i consent."
heeseung's breath hitched. shame flickered in his eyes, quickly replaced by a raw hunger that made your own pulse quicken. "but," he said, his voice low and urgent, "i need more. much more. and from… a different place."
your stomach lurched. "different place?"
a flicker of vulnerability crossed his features. "my apologies," he murmured. "to properly sustain me, i need… the jugular."
the word hung heavy in the air, a primal request that sent a wave of apprehension through you. the image of a vampire sinking its fangs into someone's neck flashed before your eyes. but then, against your better judgment, you found yourself nodding slowly.
a surge of relief, tinged with desperation, washed over heeseung. he moved towards you, a predator closing in on its prey. the closeness brought back a memory - the night in the club bathroom, pressed against the wall, his chilly breath on your neck.
he trapped you against the corner, his body a wall of heat, completely different from the other day where he was freezing.
"please," he rasped, his voice raw with hunger and a strange, desperate plea. "i can't control myself much longer. let me…"
his voice trailed off, replaced by a whimper that both shocked and ignited something within you. this wasn't the cold, calculating heeseung you'd feared. this was a creature on the brink, his monstrous hunger battling with a threadbare shred of control.
"alright," you whispered, the word leaving your lips before you could overthink it.
he didn't hesitate. he leaned in, his movements a blur of desperation. kisses, hot and wet, rained down on your neck, each one a branding iron leaving a fiery mark. you closed your eyes, bracing yourself for the pain. but it never came.
instead, as his fangs pierced your skin, a jolt of something unexpected surged through you. it wasn't pain, but a warmth that spread through your body like liquid fire. your mind grew hazy, your senses overwhelmed by a wave of pleasure that originated from the very point of contact.
he moaned, a deep, primal sound that echoed in the confined space. "so sweet," he whispered, his voice thick with desire. "the best i've ever tasted."
he drank deeply, his body trembling with each intake. you could hear him purring, a low rumble that resonated deep within your core. the pleasure was overwhelming, a dizzying mixture of pain and pleasure that left you gasping for breath. your mind turned hazy, each noise tumbling out of his lips sounding like liquid gold to you.
when he finally pulled away, breathless and satiated, he looked at you with an intensity that sent shivers down your spine. he languidly licked away the remnants of blood from the wound, his warm tongue sending a jolt of electricity through you.
he didn't stop there. he swiped at the blood that trickled down your collarbone, his tongue making a suggestive swipe against your skin. a dangerous glint flickered in his eyes, and you couldn't help but lean closer, a thrill coursing through you.
the jarring hum of the elevator coming back to life jolted you both from your current position. heeseung, his fangs retracted, quickly pressed the button for your floor. a strange mixture of fear and elation bubbled in your chest, a sensation as unfamiliar as the pleasure you'd just experienced.
he turned to you, his eyes searching your face. "are you alright?" his voice was concerned, a stark contrast to his needy whines just moments ago.
you hesitantly reached for your neck, expecting a throbbing pain. instead, you found smooth, unmarked skin. a gasp escaped your lips. "it… it healed?"
heeseung nodded, a hint of a smirk playing on his lips. "vampire saliva," he explained casually. "has a few… interesting properties. speeds up healing, for one."
a blush crept up your cheeks as you recalled the wave of euphoria that had washed over you during his feeding. "and…" you stammered, "the pleasure?"
"speaking of pleasure," heeseung's voice dipped to a husky whisper, "vampire saliva has another... side effect."
he leaned closer, his lips brushing against your ear. "an aphrodisiac," he breathed, his words sending a shiver down your spine. "especially potent when mixed with a good dose of desire. all thanks to those initial kisses on your neck i had planted.”
"so that's why…" you mumbled, suddenly embarrassed.
the elevator doors slid open, revealing the familiar hallway. you stepped out, feeling oddly energised despite the ordeal. a playful smile tugged at your lips.
"so," you said, turning to face him, your fingers playfully tapping his arm, "how do you plan to repay me for that little… service?"
heeseung raised an eyebrow, a playful glint in his eyes. before he could answer, he leaned down, his lips brushing against your forehead in a sweet kiss. pulling away, he grinned, his fangs catching the dim light playfully.
your heart hammered in your chest as he took your hand, his touch sending a spark of heat through you. stepping closer to your apartment, he winked.
"let's discuss repayment options in private, shall we?" he said, his voice dripping with a promise of things to come.
he took your hand again, his touch surprisingly warm despite his vampiric nature. before you could respond, he gently steered you towards your apartment, leaving you breathless and caught in the undercurrent of a dangerous, exhilarating game you'd just begun to play.
as you fumbled with your keys, trying to unlock the door in hurry, he leaned down next to you and murmured, his voice a low, suggestive rumble.
"i'm sure you taste just as good everywhere else."
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˚ · .𝗮𝗹𝗹 𝗿𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁𝘀 𝗿𝗲𝘀𝗲𝗿𝘃𝗲𝗱
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goldsbitch · 2 days
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Ah...
In a world where people get born with the first sentence their soulmate shares with them tattooed on their wrist, Y/N and Oscar are probably not the ones with the easiest story to tell.
note: first Oscar fic! this is prep for a longer 1k followers celebration...i'm a little too excited for that one
warning: pure fluff
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Not everyone got to meet their soulmate, and that was totally fine. Her parents weren't soulmates and they still managed to have an amazing life. Why waste time waiting around and looking for a guy who's first word he'd ever say to her was suppose to be "Ah."
"Ah."...? What was that about anyway? Stupid wrist tattoo, marking her forever with a word so unimpressive.
During her teenage years, it became an inside joke between her and her best friend. A word to overuse so much it could truly mean anything. Ah.
Her boyfriend was definitely not her soulmate. He was blessed with having a full sentence on his wrist - but in French, a language she did not speak. The hot, dark haired boy was too obsessed with studying physics to take the whole concept of soulmates seriously, so when they met in university, it was a no brainer to follow the path set by hormones rather than fate and date together.
Only after they graduated she realized just how soul-crushing it was to spend time with him. When the social circles broke down and they were left alone, it was more than clear they were not a good match. But it's hard to see the tornado when you're standing inside of it.
The vacation was suppose save the relationship. Instead, their fights were laced with her running away and him having his eyes wonder around any girl walking by.
Only two more days, she said as she walked hastily around a garden adjacent to the villa they were staying at, once again. It was like a dance - they'd fight, she'd run away, he'd search for her and they'd go back to their room for a night of silence. On repeat for the whole vacation organized by the devil himself. The plan was to turn her life upside down once she arrived back home. Start fresh. At that moment, she had no idea just how fresh that would be.
She stood in the middle of a pathway leading to dimly lit swimming pool, tired and impatient. By this time her boyfriend would usually be on his way to get her back.
Finally, grass cracking sound that followed any footstep in this garden. She closed her eyes, unable to do this dance anymore.
"I want to break up," she whispered and turned around.
Oscar did not plan on speaking with this woman standing in the middle of the way back to his hotel room. He was just coming back from his late evening swim session.
When she uttered those words, it was like each of the syllable burned on his skin. Hundred questions answered and thousand new on the table.
Absolutely baffled, yet in his typical stoic style of keeping it together on the outside, while exploding internally, he couldn't bring himself to a more than..."Ah."
//
Oscar fully believed in the concept of soulmates and had no doubt that he would meet his, that's why he refrained from dating anyone who did not have the specific, very strange, words on their wrist.
"I want to break up"...? Why would this be the first thing you ever say to someone?
Over the time, he figured it would just be him overhearing the words. Or that he was one of the lucky ones, having a soulmate who has a special catch phrase they use when introducing to anyone new. He imagined his soulmate to be clever and cunning. And like the dreamer he was, he already had several versions of their meet up in his head, usually followed by their whole life together playing out. Oh, what a bliss when the moment would finally come.
But when it came, it took him totally of guard. Somehow, in all the scenarios he thought about his whole life, he missed probably the most realistic one. He was only trying to get back to his room and this girl was standing in the middle of the only clear pathway, as if it was nothing. She spoke with her back turned to him.
"I want to break up."
And when she turned around, after mistaking him for someone else, he saw a beautiful face, all puffy with smudged make up. And obviously in a really bad mood. He was, as they say, too stunned to speak.
"Ah." He said bluntly, too quickly for him to even notice it, processing the fact he just heard that one specific sentence, the one that should define the rest of his life.
She stared at him, as if he just offended her entire family. "What?!"
He felt..nothing. She couldn't be his soulmate. No way. Most likely because he had his response to "I want to break up" rehearsed his whole life. It was supposed to be "Worry not, now I am here." A lovely sentence to walk around with, right? He wanted his soulmate to wear the tattoo proudly, not with - what was it he even said? Did he even say something? He didn't, did he?
"Worry not, now I am here," he tried, feeling like he had nothing to loose. The words came out clumsily, as if they tripped over one another.
He was sure her face was already the most confused one could make, but she proved him wrong, quickly.
"Sorry, I'll leave you to it. This was obviously a misunderstanding," he said, trying to be polite and took few steps ahead to get going. She reacted and stepped right into his way.
This surely couldn't be it. But, emotions were running high, she thought she was addressing her boyfriend and was somehow trying to comprehend the fact she nearly broke up with him. And then she hears an "Ah." "What did you say?" she shot at him, no filter whatsoever, watching him with fascination and some flavor of anger.
Oscar was beginning to regret ever engaging in this conversation. "Worry not, now I am here...There, now, is that tattooed on your wrist? I imagine not, so, apologies and I'll leave you to whatever you're doing," he said, without giving her much space to respond. He felt slightly guilty about leaving an obviously distressed woman alone there, but his social awkwardness won this round and he just wanted this to be over.
"No, you didn't," she said, not intent on moving anywhere. Determined look replaced her sorrow.
"I'm pretty sure I did."
"And I am sure you didn't," she said, raising her wrist all the way to his eyeline. "You said this, didn't you?!"
It was not a tone of playful or even hopeful realization. Her delivery was spiced with unresolved anger that grew inside. He squeezed his eyes, having hard time seeing the small letters in the light of the nearing night. "What's that?"
She put her hand down, having a really hard time believing this was actually happening. It took him by surprise the speed with which she reached for his own hand, but his racer reflexes kicked in and he managed to avoid her.
Annoyed sigh left her mouth. "Will you show me your hand? I've already had a pretty shit day without you making obstructions."
He looked deeply in her eyes. This was a lot of emotion battling each others, little too much for Oscar.
"I'm pretty sure we're not soulmates," he said dryly.
"Tell me what's on your hand and I'll let you fuck off from when you came from."
"I'd actually like to go the other way-"
"Show me your hand!"
Visibly taken back, almost offended by her shouting, he reveled his wrist.
Time stopped for Y/N for few seconds. She was staring at the words she uttered just a minute ago. Decided to take a deep breath before she looked in his eyes once again. "Sorry for...screaming. We're almost definitely soulmates...You said "Ah." It felt good to finally know what kind of tone this sound was spoken with. End to the endless possibilities.
The irony of the fact that Oscar had a hard time remembering if he had actually said something so stupid dwelled on him. Did he? Knowing himself, he probably did.
"Ah," he repeated with a much heavier, slightly bitter, undertone.
"Yeah."
They just stood there, staring at each other. Was this suppose to be it? The moment he longed for and the one she already mourned? Just now she noticed that he was a gorgeous guy. Heavenly actually. Such a kind smile. Innocent look with a hint of spice. But she believed in love, not necessarily soulmates. Even if she did, this was the worst moment to do this. Little, almost invisible, tears started rolling from her eyes.
"Can I take a photo of you?" she asked, with defeated smile, wanting to walk away with a tangible evidence for her lonely evenings in the future.
Oscar was still processing. "Sure," he replied to a sentence he heard thousand times each month. Very automatically his body moved for a classic hug with a fan - which she rejected and just snapped a photo of his face.
"Nice to meet you. But I have my shit to deal with. I'm not good for you anyway," she said and sprinted back to he hotel room, to her current boyfriend and a deadend life. He just stood there, unable to comprehend. When he finally did, she was gone.
//
"Mr. Piastri, you understand that I can't just give you a room number to someone who you don't even know by name," the receptionist said, not backing down to his urgency.
"But she is my soulmate! She just passed by, surely you would know which one of the guests she is," he said, both hand on the counter, towering the poor reception lady.
"I'm going to have to ask you to stop this request or we might be forced to cancel your stay and remove you from the premise."
He rolled his fingers into his first, mad at himself the most out of all the people. "Yeah. Great. Understood."
//
Y/N didn't sleep for a minute that night. When she returned back without a word, her boyfriend didn't even look up. She didn't really care.
"Let's just get through these few days," he said and she just nodded.
Mind racing around new set of eyes she memorized from the photo she had, not having a clue that he in fact was a racer.
//
Breakfast. Oscar's chance to take destiny into his own hands. He was the first one to arrive and planned on being the last one to leave. And should she miss her breakfast, he'd move into the lobby. Determined to talk to her at least one more time. Sat there, drinking his juice and bouncing his leg up to the point it annoyed even him.
//
He'd probably be at the breakfast, she realized as her sleep deprived body walked towards the elevator. A stolen glance at her partner. They hadn't said a word to each other the whole morning. To think she once thought one of them would bury the other after a nice full-filled life. Coffee and croissant was her only hope now. And of course the guy from yesterday was there. Sitting at a table, alone, very obviously finished with his breakfast. Arms crossed and eyeing all the entrances. She couldn't help but smile and light up when she saw him. He sat there. Waiting. Was there even a possibility he'd be waiting for her? Like a soulless ghost, she followed her current partner and sat down to the table he picked.
Oscar was a secret over-thinker. He spent every minute going through every possibility of what could happen. So of course he was ready, in theory, for her entering with another guy or a girl. However, the whole nature of her first sentence to him was about breaking up. And you don't say that in a healthy relationship.
It was now or never for him. He watched the pair grab a seat few tables away from him. God, she was gorgeous. Seeing her walk in, summer dress proving the internet was right once again, made him weak in his knees and unable to look away. She paused upon noticing him, eyes shyly flashing back and forth, absolutely no plan or idea what to do. Awkwardly put her things down the at the table, fumbled around aimlessly and proceeded to walk over the breakfast bar. As she walked, she could almost feel his eyes piercing through her back. For some reason, it felt as if he knew something she didn't. she had to actively convince herself to act normal, as if this was her first time having breakfast at a hotel. Copy others. Oscar did indeed stare at her as if there was no tomorrow. Eyes glued to her back, cosplaying as the worst private detective this planet ever produced. He found himself getting up and approaching the bar she was standing by, the guy she came in long gone from her close proximity.
Oscar gulped before speaking, standing right beside her, pretending to be interested in a stack of apples. Her eyes flashed to her left, but she already knew who was standing next to her. It was as if she could hear his energy, something divine, intoxicating and most importantly - inevitable.
"Morning....I hope you've had better night than when you left yesterday," he opened with, desperately trying to break the ice. He was absolutely hopeless with small talk. His tone created a small smile on her face. This sort strange and unique tonality, which was exceptionally hard to decipher, mixed with his Australian accent. Again, so many questions popping up in her head - her body wanted her to find out everything about this guy.
"I'm not sure that's the case. But thank you for asking I guess," she said and leaned over his hand to reach for a fresh peach. It was not her conscious decision to brush his hand, but it definitely could have been avoided. Neither party mattered. Two shy smiles were created at that moment.
"Would you mind sharing your name with me?" he asked, as she glanced over to his wrist, to look at his tattoo once again.
She answered, slightly hesitantly. "Y/N."
"Uuh,"
"Are interjections the only language you speak?" she whispered, still not over the whole "Ah." thing and finally stopped pretending to be interested in the breakfast bar. She did the best she could to meet his eye while not turning around and becoming too obvious.
Oscar was having trouble processing his body's reaction to this girl being so close now. "No, but I am happy you seem interested to know that."
It was impossible to fight of the smile. "I'm not, you're the reason I'm walking with this my whole life," she said, lifting her wrist once again.
He fiddled with some apples, trying to keep his hands busy. "I'd like to object that in this pair I'm the one who lost"
"Don't say the word pair," she said in a tone so unserious even she couldn't pretend to believe it.
"Why, does that idea make you nervous?" he clicked his tongue, feeling more confident with every second she stayed there with him.
"I have a boyfriend," she stated, lying to herself anyway.
He smirked. "Apologies, must have misread my own hand."
"I can't break up with someone on a holiday," she responded, reaching for straws, not even knowing why. She took two steps to the coffee line and to no surprise, he followed.
"You didnt seem to think as such yesterday," he said in more serious tone. "Look, I don't know you-"
"No, you don't," she jumped in before he continued.
"-But...let me present my hypotheses, so that we can test the whole soulmate thing. Does that not make you at least a bit excited?" he said, trying to hide his own excitement, which was something he did not have to do often, so he was not really good at it.
She found his confidence mixed with clumsiness so intoxicating. "It's overrated," she argued, perhaps trying to see how much he's willing to defend it.
"I'm so much looking forward to proving that theory wrong." There is was. The point of no return.
"Well before you do," she bit her smile, accidentally leaving a pause for him to fill.
"Ah, so you believe that I will," he said sith his signature "I won" smile.
"Again, with the interjections, you gotta unlearn that," she said, happy he couldn't see directly into her face, as she felt the blush spreading.
"Teach me."
"Stop it...." she froze, searching in memory a moment when he'd introduce himself.
"Oscar."
She finally paused and dared to look at him, or more specifically stopped resisting her wondering eyes. Her mind rushed through all the Oscar's she had the pleasure to meet and absolutely none of them did justice to the name. His kind eyes, while somewhat giving shy guy vibes, pierced through her fearlessly. So sure of himself, et somehow humble. An impossible enigma she could see herself deciphering for the rest of her life.
"Nice name," she said, in a completely new tone, one he hadn't heard yet. Calm, kind and intrigued.
"Thank you." They stared at each other for few more moment, utterly inappropriately for two strangers in a coffee line. Taking in the little intricacies about the other, as if memorizing for a test.
"You said you had a hypotheses?" she broke silence, not quite sure they were at the same planet as their surroundings anymore. All around them sort of blended together into an unclear, totally unimportant mush.
"I do. Hope I don't overstep."
"I think that does not matter now," she said, walls crumbling down one by one.
"Good. I think you don't want to break up with your current boyfriend now that you'd met me," he said boldly.
"Astonishingly obnoxious," she teased, unable to believe he caught her.
"Fair. But, yesterday you wanted to. Now, it serves like a perfect excuse why run away from this," he said and stepped just a little bit closer to her.
"I don't want to be a slave of some destiny bullshit," she said, while absolutely agreeing with destiny this time.
There was no way back for Oscar. Looking into her eyes was making him drown in lands never explored before. "Yes, but why reject it before we even get the chance to discover if we like each other."
"I don't even know you."
"Your parents didn't know each other at one point," he said matter-o-factly.
The reality was creeping into her mind. "I hardly know anything about you! Like where you live, what you do..."
He was not letting her go. "All over the globe, I am a racing driver. You?"
How come it seemed so easy and obvious for him? "Oscar, I'm..I'm scared." Intimidated was the word she wanted to use, but it felt a little bit too much.
"Of what?"
"I dunno...? Of this working out?"
"Do you realize that sounds quite ridiculous."
"...Yes".
"Well, I believe this is going to be great fun. Listen, it's not socially acceptable for me to bother you for longer. But I desperately hope this is not the last conversation we share," he lowered his voice, parting ways with her being the last thing he actually wanted to do, but his intuition told him, that he had to give her some space to come forward to his, her decision.
Y/N's head was a mess, truth slipping through, passing all the filters that seemed to have stopped working. "I am afraid it's not."
He smiled. "Good. Now, I'll leave you to your life - do whichever you think is right. But please give me your number."
"No, you give me yours so that I can call you when i want to. You know, boundaries," she ordered, trying to keep some control in her hands.
He trusted his gut. "Fair."
//
"Lady, I can't tell you where's Oscar's room." It was a different receptionist that Oscar had dealt with, but probably with the same training.
"But it's a suprise! Look, I have his number an everything."
"Why don't you call him?"
"You're familiar with the concept of a surprise?"
//
Unlike Oscar, she managed to convince the reception into giving her Oscar's room number. It was all the way up at the last floor. Fancy, she thought. It's impossible to convey the energy and adrenaline cocktail that Y/N was on when she was on the way to knock on his room and announce that she actually went though with the break up and the guy was on his way home, cutting the vacation early. It was unhinged, reckless, addictive. She had to stop herself several times, as the excitement mixed with fear was making her put on faces very strange to anyone who should pass by. If music was on, she'd dance for hours. Hell, she had no idea what was suppose to happen now. And that had never felt so exhilarating before.
With one last breath before her life changed for good, she knocked on the door.
After the longest few seconds ever experienced on this planet, he finally opened the door.
She physically couldn't hold it anymore. "I broke up with him," she blurted out the moment their eyes met.
Oscar tried to take in the image of his soulmate, standing there in front of him, flustered and ready to take the leap with him, once again, having trouble holding his smile in.
"Ah."
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pkay! so i was wondering if u could do a jace x reader where after the funeral she takes him and comforts him and looks after him in the bedroom to help him calm down because he had to act strong infront of his family but in the contents of his own chambers he could let himself cry on them!
Another one for Jace because this scene broke us all. This will be the last one about this scene. I have written three versions of different moments, I think all has been said
Warnings: mention of death, grief, panic attack
my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time
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You stood alongside Rhaena and Baela during the funeral. Behind you stood Corlys and Rhaenys, all mourning the loss of Lucerys. 
Along with the remains she found on the shore, the Queen threw in the pyre her son’s clothes. Jacaerys stepped up next and threw the baby swaddle their mother used when he was a baby. And lastly, Jacaerys picked up Joffrey, who threw the horse toy Lucerys had when he was little. It had been handed to him when he grew out of playing with it, but it was still Lucerys’.
Your heart ached at how Joffrey clung to his big brother, who himself had his eyes filled with tears threatening to spill. You wanted to go up to him and hold his hand, but the time was not right. 
When the flames of the pyre finally extinguished, everyone retreated inside. The Queen had withdrawn to her chambers with her youngest sons. Losing one had only intensified her need to keep the others close.
Your eyes searched the hall for the one who was promised to you, but Jacaerys was nowhere in sight. To your left, you noticed Rhaena and Baela, who had just parted from their grandmother. You approached them, and Rhaena, who had lost her betrothed, welcomed you with a brief but heartfelt hug.
‘’Have you seen Jacaerys?’’ you asked them.
Rhaena shook her head, but Baela nodded. ‘’I saw him taking the stairs minutes ago.’’
You thanked her and followed her lead. 
Upstairs, you knew exactly where to go. 
Inside your chamber, you found Jacaerys pacing the room with frantic steps, one of his hands gripping his chest. His breathing was ragged and shallow, and his face contorted with panic. He pulled at his doublet, feeling like it was choking him and stopping air from getting into his lungs. 
You rushed to his side, alarmed. ‘’Jace,’’ you called out, your voice tinged with concern and confusion.
His head snapped in your direction, his face filled with fear and tears. He opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. He didn’t know what was happening, and neither did you. 
‘’Should I fetch the maester?’’ you asked, your heart clenching with worry.
‘’It... hurts... can't breathe…’’ he managed to gasp, his voice strained with desperation. Sweat beaded his forehead, and his breath came in ragged, uneven gasps, as if the air was somehow refusing to fill his lungs.
Jacaerys pulled at his doublet again. 
You tried to remain calm, knowing that panic would only make the situation worse. You reached out and undid the buttons on the front of his doublet, hoping to loosen the constriction around his chest. But even as the tight fabric released its grip, it didn’t seem to help. His chest continued to heave and shudder, each breath sounding like a painful struggle.
‘’Let’s sit.’’ 
He nodded, his eyes wide with fear as he allowed you to guide him to the settee. With every step, his breathing only seemed to get more and more erratic, each gasp sounding like a strangled sob.
Once he was seated, you knelt in front of him, your hands gently gripping his trembling ones, offering what little comfort you could. His chest continued to rise and fall rapidly, each breath sounding as if it was being wrenched from his lungs. His eyes were fixed on you, panic still evident in his gaze, but there was also a glimpse of vulnerability there, as if he was silently pleading for your help.
It was heart-wrenching to see him in such a state, his normally calm and collected demeanor completely shattered.
You squeezed his hands gently, hoping to offer some small comfort. ‘’Focus on me,’’ you urged him, your voice soft but firm. ‘’Listen to my voice. Try to match your breaths to mine. Inhale.’’ You breathed in deeply, exaggerating each inhalation and exhalation, hoping that Jacaerys would follow your lead. ‘’Exhale. In through your nose, out through your mouth.’’
He tried, his eyes locked onto your face as you breathed in and out. At first, his breaths only seemed to become more shallow and labored, but gradually, they began to match the pace of yours. Each gasped inhalation slowly started to become less frantic and more controlled.
After a moment, he calmed down and you wiped his tears. 
‘’Thank you for helping me. I don’t know how this happened. I…I thought I was going to die.’’
You rose to your feet and wrapped your arms around him. 
He buried his face in your shoulder, still shaking from the intensity of the experience. He wrapped his arms around you, clinging to you tightly, as if holding on for dear life. 
‘’I was so scared,’’ he whispered, his voice still shaky and raw. ‘’I thought I was losing control. I couldn't breathe, I couldn't think... It was like everything was closing in on me.’’
You held him tightly, one hand rubbing soothing circles on his back. His body was warm and solid against yours, his muscles tense with lingering fear.
You hushed gently, kissing his shoulder. ‘’You're okay now. You're safe with me.’’ 
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cloudcountry · 3 days
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Hello could I request maybe Iida, Vil, and Malleus with a S/o that can hold a cup on their chest? Like they have such large chest that they can hold stuff with it. If it’s to weird I apologize.
SUMMARY: their s/o has a large chest
COMMENTS: this is kind of a different fic for me i dont usually write stuff like this SDJJSDSJ i hope i did your prompt justice!!
literally begging nobody to sexualize this please ive never written for this stuff before so idk how people react but i will Cry
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If you ever need to go bra shopping, trust that Vil will be right by your side making sure you get the best bras for your size. He’ll listen to what you want and even ask attendants for you if you’re too embarrassed.
He picks out various styles for you to try, each one giving you the support you need. His advice is always helpful and to the point—he knows what colors and styles look best but insists that comfort is most important for his love.
If anyone makes any weird comment towards you they will be on the receiving end of Vil’s absolutely withering glare. He trusts they won’t try anything ever again, lest he have to soundly berate them into the ground.
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Idia is nervous. I mean he’s nervous around everyone, sure, but it takes a lot to coax what he wants out of him even after you two have been dating for a while. He doesn’t want you to change your mind or think he’s weird, so he keeps his desires to himself, but...
He wants to nap with you and rest his head on your chest. That’s it. He thinks you look so cozy and he confesses all of this is rushed murmurs that you quite honestly barely catch, but it’s enough to get the gist.
It’s the best sleep of his life. He knocks out almost immediately as you run your fingers through his hair, watching over him like a guardian angel. Ever since that night, he'll “subtly” try to snuggle up to you again like a scared cat, ready to jump away at any moment.
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Malleus often finds himself curious, asking about your back pain and if he can do anything to help. You may have it covered, and it’s that's the case he’s delighted, but if you don’t he gets serious very quickly.
That’s his love we’re talking about, and his love should not endure any pain, much less alone! And so he offers to make it go away with his magic. It would be in your best interest to ask what he intends to do...you may not like it.
At the end of day he’s very protective of you too (as always.) He’s heard about things people said to you back in your world that made you uncomfortable, so he keeps an eye out for those types. He’ll strike them down, don’t worry. <3
388 notes · View notes
joonsytip · 3 days
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Only for Love || Mingyu - Part 3
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Pairings: Mingyu x Fem!Reader
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Smut, Husband!Mingyu, Cold Wife!Reader, Arranged Marriage au, Contract Marriage au, Divorce au
Synopsis: When an accidental discovery has your perception of happy married life crumbling down, you do what you think is the best for everyone involved. Naturally, your opinion of the best doesn't cater to your husband's. So what happens when things spiral out due to unforeseen events?
Warnings: character death, mentions of pregnancy, Mingyu acts dumb, reader goes through a whole lot of emotional turmoil, mentions of divorce, tears, profanities, major angst.
Word Count: 5.7k
@wongyuuu thanks a lot for brainstorming out this with me & happy birthday, love! 💕🎂
[ SVT Masterlist ] [ SVT Flick - Fic Masterlist ]
Teaser | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3
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Mingyu returns to an empty house. He waits for you for an hour, two hours and when the clock strikes midnight his mind clouds with concern. He fishes out his phone and ignoring the series of notifications that keeps on popping up, he calls you.
But with all his calls remaining unanswered, Mingyu surges in panic and calls Soonyoung who's extremely pissed and shows his discontentment through a dry, edgy reply.
"She left with Minghao."
That's the only line Mingyu hears before getting hung up. And Soonyoong does not pick up his call again.
And now he sits rooted to the couch, tapping feet in anxiety and worry with no idea about your whereabouts and who the hell is Minghao?
His thoughts bounce off the walls and he decides to take his car and drives off to find you aimlessly. He goes to your office only to be greeted by the security. He goes to the café you are regular at, knowing very well that it would be closed but he makes a round just for his sanity. He knocks on your apartment door but it's empty just like the house was.
Dejected he fishes out his phone to call your uncle when the notification of your name flashes on the screen.
'Meet me at home within fifteen minutes.'
There's no way he's gonna get home within the said timeframe but just as he rushes towards his car, his phone vibrates again.
'Half an hour. Don't run the red lights, don't run over people.'
Mingyu listens to your advice and thankfully he reaches you in one piece.
But he stands frozen as he sees you in the hallway carrying a duffle bag.
"Where were you?", no greetings, you ask checking your watch.
Mingyu knows you know and you know that he knows that you know.
"I had to leave with Sora."
"And who's she?"
Mingyu bites his tongue before answering, "My ex."
"What made you go somewhere with your ex rather than watch your wife getting felicitated?", your voice is calmer than usual and it scares your husband to the bones.
He stays silent. And you wait for him like you have all the time in the world.
"I can't tell you right now, Y/N. I'm sorry.", he answers quietly, lowering his gaze.
"Okay.", you say and Mingyu looks at you flabbergasted. Before he could speak, you add,"I'm going to stay at my uncle's."
Mingyu feels electrified, the sensation which burns his whole body, itches on his skin and scratches at the throat.
"I'm sorry, I know it is an unacceptable behaviour of me but please trust me. I haven't done anything to be ashamed of.", Mingyu grabs your hands and blabbers, "You can stay with your uncle but please tell me when you are going to return, that you're going to return."
You pull back your hands from his grip, "I don't think I'll be returning anytime soon.", you say sternly, "I had something to share with you but this isn't the right time."
"Y/N--"
"Before I leave, tell me one thing. Are you going to keep seeing her?"
Mingyu flares at this, "I'm not seeing her for fucks sake! I would never do something bad, I'm your husband."
You stare at him for a solid minute, "You didn't answer my question. Anyways, I'm disappointed. Keep yourself in my shoes and give it a thought."
"Let me drive you, it's late.", he offers.
"You don't have to worry about me, Minghao is already waiting with his car."
Mingyu twitches on hearing the name for the second time, "And who's that?"
"I can't tell you right now, Mingyu. I'm sorry.", you mimic his words from before and just as you are about to cross the threshold, you whisper shaking your head, "You can't even put yourself in my shoes..."
Mingyu watches you leave with a grim heart.
It's been a two weeks since you've been living with your uncle. And though you've left home in despair, Mingyu has somehow made it a mission to win back your trust.
But who's gonna tell him that you never doubted him, you were just mad, just like a teenage girl who can't keep her act straight in front of her love.
He calls you every night. For the first week you didn't pick up his calls but when your anger started to subside you entertained his calls but never spoke much, just listened to him telling how his day went. He asks every time if could visit you, getting a straight no as reply. He might be obedient but he's sneaky as hell because most of the times when you're getting off work you somehow see him engrossed with some conversation with Soonyoung at the parking.
What is he doing at your workplace almost everyday, when he could crash at Soonyoung's place. Why does Soonyoung have to call out your name every time when you're walking past them, roping you into some small talks.
Soonyoung is the imposter.
And why does everytime aa you are about to take leave after the conversation, Mingyu asks you the same question, "When are you returning?"
You never answer.
"You've gotta be kidding me!", Seokmin yelps. They all have gathered at Mingyu's place because everyone is stressed and wants to know what is actually happening.
"There are all sorts of rumours at the workplace. And I wanna punch everyone in the face.", Soonyoung says dejected, "Minghao and Y/N went to the same university so some are saying that they have dated during that time." he takes a chug from the can and continues, "And since Mingyu didn't show up at the event last time, it has sparked the speculations."
Mingyu sits head lowered, rubbing his hands all over the face.
"I'm sure Minghao likes her. I can tell by the way he looks at her.", Soonyoung puts it down.
"What about Y/N?", Mingyu asks his heart beating in his chest rapidly.
"What do you think dumbass?", Junhui glares at him.
"Woah, I'm offended now that you asked that question.", Hansol speaks in distaste.
"It's been a month without her.", Mingyu sighs, his lips curl down, eyes filled with concern, "I think everything was going back to normal, assuming by the way she responded, I felt like she'd be coming back anytime but she has gone radio silent suddenly. For the past two weeks she isn't responding to my calls or texts, she is even working from home."
"Yeah maybe Minhee can tell something", Junhui suggests, "But I doubt she'd spill anything if Y/N has told her not to."
The evening bleeds into night and the guys keep on chatting when suddenly Jeonghan who hasn't been much involved decides to speak.
"Now that Sora is back? What are you gonna do?"
The laughters die down and room falls silent with all the eyes on Mingyu.
"What's going on guys? Is there something we don't know?", Seokmin asks in fear.
Jeonghan leans back on the couch and looks at Mingyu, saying, "I think it's time, they should know. I'll go first, that day Mingyu left with Sora to meet me. Apparently, the guy Sora had left Gyu for turns out to be a douch. Won't go to the details but he kept blackmailing her, so desperate to save herself and afraid that I won't be meeting her if she went alone, she took him with her. I'm skipping the legal parts and that guy has been sort of taken care off. But that's not where it ends.", he sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose, "The problem is that Sora wants him back now."
Gasps erupt through the room.
"Why did I see it coming though?", Seokmin says, "You have said no straight to her face right, Min?", he asks Mingyu.
The silence that follows horrifies every other one present in the room.
"Don't tell me...", Hansol trails off, eyeing his friend in utter disbelief.
"It's not what you're thinking.", Mingyu frowns, "I haven't said anything to Sora. But I have loved her for so long it's rolling back like a habit.", he hesitantly looks up and sees a bunch of disappointed faces, "But if it had been the previous me, I'd have gone to her in a snap but I'm changed now."
Mingyu gives a wry smile when looking at the relief washing over his friends.
"Here's the real deal begins. We have been married for over two years, in a few months we'd be hitting the three year mark. It's a long time right?", he sweeps his gaze across the large wedding frame of you both on the wall, "Instead of being a couple, I feel like living with a roommate. No feelings involved. She's stoic, nonchalant and even inconsiderate sometimes, even if I think that there's something between us, her actions act as bucket of cold water on those thoughts. I understand that not everyone is the same and I agree that Y/N has changed but somehow we're still at the starting point and it's starting to tire me out. Maybe I shouldn't have agreed to this marriage--"
There's a sudden thud and all the necks turn in unison only to find you standing by the hallway and your bag on the ground.
Heartbreak is one thing but the humiliation is another form of descend you're currently facing. You return your home only to find your husband shit talking about how unhappy he is in this marriage to his friends.
And the biggest loss turns out to be how you're the only one who thought that it's a happy, perfect marriage. Your husband isn't wrong when he said that you're inconsiderate.
Tears prick at your eyes but aren't you stoic, nonchalant so why should the people infront of you get the leverage to see you vulnerable? They shouldn't, so you pick up your bag and walk past them going straight into the guest room.
There are continuous knocks on the door. Your phone keeps ringing but you pay mind to none. Your mind only reels the words of your husband from before.
The previous you would have stomped out of the house but now, you can't. The situation has changed, the circumstances are different and you are totally lost.
Because there's a life is growing inside you. The reason you decided to return home tonight but your second attempt at letting Mingyu know that he's gonna be a father cracks again. The first attempt was the night where Mingyu chose Sora over you. He doesn't want you, would he want to raise a child with you?
Maybe you shouldn't have gotten married, maybe you shouldn't have fallen in love with your husband and maybe she's better, the previous you who knew you're undesirable, who knew that people like you are unlovable, who very well knew how to maintain a boundary.
You have lost the track of time but you sure can hear voices from the other side of the door. You think attachment is something you can't effort, you are not people's people.
So that's how what Mingyu had said, you turned into his roommate. Since that day, you have settled in the guest room. You don't get out of your room unless it's an emergency. You leave for work early and return home at late hours.
You haven't spoken to Mingyu since that day. You've rejected all his advances of striking a conversation. But you're thankful to him for making you food everyday because you can't eat anything else, it makes you nauseous.
"Hey, are you okay?", Minghao asks worried as he takes a sit beside you at the cafeteria of the office, "You have been throwing a lot."
You nod your head, avoiding his gaze, "I'm fine."
Minghao doesn't buy your words but you both settle in the comfortable silence and until he gasps.
You cock brows looking at him.
"Are you pregnant?", he gasps, "Oh my god."
You freeze and slap your hand over his mouth and proceed to tell him everything that has been happening.
"So Mingyu doesn't know yet. And he's being a jerk ever since his ex-girlfriend returned.", Minghao says in anger. He sweeps a gaze across your face and his eyes soften, "You love him, don't you?"
You avoid his gaze again, you don't answer him.
A sad smile graces on his lips as he reminiscences the past. How he had practically clinched himself in your life. How he had fallen in love with you but knew that you wouldn't reciprocate, the reason why he disappeared abruptly from your life years ago. The apologies are always on the tip of his tongue for leaving you alone, for creating the safe place but also leaving it void.
"You know you shouldn't be taking stress. I know it's not easy but I'd suggest for you both to sort things out, atleast for the baby.", he says patting your back in a comforting manner, "If Mingyu does anything to hurt you again, tell me I'll beat him for you."
"Thanks Hao.", you say smiling.
"Also let me know if Soonyoung bothers you. I'll handle him as well."
You shake your head laughing, "He insufferable Hao, you'll give up."
"We'll see that.", he smiles softly, "But do plan on telling him. Uncle also needs to know, he'd be so happy."
"I want the baby's father to know first. Then I'll tell everyone.", you assure him.
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Mingyu knows he went overboard. He knows he was being an absolute asshole when he uttered those baseless words in your favour.
Maybe he should never have compared the type of relationship he had with Sora with the one he's having with you. It's a grave mistake and the lack of your presence is taking a toll on him. But he understands if you need space or even don't want to see his face. He's willing to give you all that but he plans to apologise to you and if you don't forgive him, he'd understand.
Work is hectic but the situation at home is feverish. He has been getting earfuls from all of his friends and family, specially Minhee. She has been giving him shit routinely.
His reverie breaks when he receives a text from you. Hurriedly opening the text, his eyes widen with a mixture of horror and anticipation.
'Come home as soon as possible. I have something to tell you.'
His mind could only hint at it being something ominous.
You pace around the entire house nervously.
"Mingyu, I'm pregnant. You're gonna be father."
You shake head at the selection of words.
"Congratulations! You're going to be a dad!"
Sounds too exciting for an unplanned pregnancy.
"You're pull out game was weak. Guess what I'm pregnant."
Too snappy, rejected.
"Kim Mingyu, you're pregnant, I will be-- wait what no-- I'm pregnant, we're expecting."
You sit down pulling your hair in frustration.
After another hundred million failed rehearsals you sort to say whatever your heart would feel like at the moment in his presence.
But where's Mingyu? You check the clock, it's past his work hours. Maybe he's running late for some reason. It's your third attempt to tell him about your pregnancy and you hope that you'd succeed this time.
Your phone rings and you would never have guessed that your world would come crashing down.
You stand with head your head bowed down the entire time at the funeral hall. The band wrapped around your arm acts as a constant reminder that you're the chief mourner. You don't raise your head, not ready the see the picture that's kept on the board.
The heart attack was so brutal that it claimed the life of your uncle without a chance of revival. When you were informed he was already gone.
No last words, no goodbyes. Now you're left with only his photo and memories. You walk into the room where his body is kept as you've made a special request to let you meet him before he's taken into the coffin.
He's almost unrecognisable as you sit beside the body. Gently caressing his head, you finally let the tears fall.
"You were so eager to meet everyone that you left me alone here.", you sob, "What do I do without you now?"
You caress his cheeks gently, "Whatever I have become it's because of you. Even though I was the reason they died, you took me in and raised me like our own."
"I have something to tell.", your hands place themselves back on his head, "I'm pregnant. You're gonna be a grandparent. Tell mom, dad and aunt that I have grown up. Tell Sejin that he's gonna be an uncle."
You spend some more last moments with your uncle before there's a knock on the door. You quickly wipe the tears and look up to see Mingyu standing at the threshold.
"It's time.", he says solemnly.
You nod and look back at your uncle saying, "Thank you for everything. Have a nice reunion with everyone up there. Forgive me if I have been a bad daughter. Goodbye comrade."
You don't like the pitiful look everyone throws at you. You hate it, it claws on your skin and you feel like throwing up. Running into the washroom, you sit down opening the lid to empty your stomach when you feel your hairs being pulled back in gentle grip.
It's Mingyu, you know even though even without seeing him. He doesn't care about entering a ladies washroom when he has to look for you.
"Here, drink some water.", he uncaps the bottle and offers it to you.
He's presence is somewhat comforting, he makes things bearable. Your uncle is laid beside the rest of your family and you request everyone to be left alone. It's night time when you leave the place only to see Mingyu waiting for you.
There's silence throughout the ride back to home, no words spoken when he makes you eat something he cooked when you were showering, unspoken words when you go back your room and he goes back to his.
You mourn for days and while you do so you take notice of a lot of things.
"Y/N, I'm sorry for that day. I didn't mean anything I said, I was just being an idiot.", Mingyu  says after barging into your room one night because he had enough. He decides he won't let you suffer alone anymore.
You nod your head, "It's okay.", your short and curt reply doesn't settle well with your husband.
"I know one apology isn't enough and I understand if you won't forgive me but please let me be there for you.", he pleads closing the gap and taking your hands within his. His eyes searches for your face and his brows crease when he finds you avoiding eye contact.
You pull back your hands out of his grip, "I can take care of myself, Mingyu."
Your call of name rings oddly in his ear. It's rare for you to call him by name, it's always husband when throwing banter or Gyu while being affectionate.
Affectionate? His mind reels in the moment. Aren't you unexpressive then how could his mind produce that word in your wake?
"I'm tired. Let's call it a night.", you say poised, "There's no need for an apology. Everyone has the right to voice out about anything they don't like."
Mingyu feel like he's not your husband rather an office colleague. Your tone is so formal and dry. Your words cut him like a dagger. He wonders if he has caused damaged beyond repair.
It's so fucked up that he wants to hold you sleep, say sweet nothings to calm your senses but he's afraid to ask you to come back to the master bedroom.
So he lets you bask in your own company. He'll interfere with your personal space for sure one day, hustle in forcefully if you don't let him, no matter how rude and irritating it is, he'll mend the broken bond.
His heart breaks when he notices that you don't look him in the eyes anymore. You always had a strong lively gaze, but they are now hollow. You don't call him when you're struggling to open the jar, you don't ask for him when you can't reach something kept on the top shelf.
His friends are all dejected at how you don't indulge them anymore, they're sad at how they don't get to see you nowadays.
Mingyu had attempted to gauze you out of the coop by inviting the guys to the apartment. But you had locked yourself in the room the whole time.
His parents lament on how he ruined something so beautiful, his sister cries at how you don't communicate with even her nowadays.
He's already going crazy and Sora's pestering him by showing up outside his workplace often or making thousands of phone calls almost everyday, makes him ponder upon how was he even in love with her at some point.
He regrets again, now that he can clearly see the difference. You are you, the actual indifference you're showing is now and it's driving him crazy.
He wants to fix this. He needs to fix both of you because he needs you.
You're in the middle of some paperwork when there's a knock on the cabin door.
Soonyoung enters and the look that you give him is sharp enough to scare him off.
"How have you been doing?"
"Breathing fine, alive."
He should have taken the clue and left but it's Soonyoung and he lives as if he has nine lives.
"We miss you, please stop ghosting us."
"I'm not ghosting anyone."
"Minhee is miserable."
The writing stops, your hand halts for a moment before continuing. Soonyoung knocks on the table demanding your attention on him.
You sigh, having no option but look at him.
"You can be mad at your husband but we didn't do anything, Y/N. I don't even know Mingyu, I'm your friend."
The corner of your lips threaten to curl up. Your heart twinges and you smile sadly, "It's better to be prepared ahead so that you all will get accustomized to it later. Attachments are always painful."
Soonyoung looks at you quizzically, "What do you mean by that?"
"Nothing.", you drew yourself back in the papers, "I have a meeting in ten minutes, I need to go over these documents before that."
Soonyoung maybe callous at times but somehow seeing you and hearing your words today makes him bothered.
Another weak passes and you are packing your bags the entire time little by little, unknown to Mingyu because your door is always locked. Your office room is almost empty except for the systems. When Mingyu's not at home, you roam in the bedroom, swaying in the memories you both made there. You lay on the bed, sniffing the pillows because they smell like him.
You crave his touch all the time and him being in your vision doesn't help at all when you could sense the longing in his eyes.
Mingyu doesn't know that you've stolen one of his shirts and a hoodie. He should never find out.
Your soul knows. It tells you that it’s time to distance yourself from those who no longer align with you mentally, emotionally or physically.
"I can't stay here.", you whisper to yourself as you continue to pack rest of the items.
"I'm cursed.", you frantically wipe your tears, "People related to me keep dying."
Your body shakes, eyes producing another batch of fresh tears, "No one should be associated with me. I need to cut everyone out of my life for their sake. Without me, they'd be safe."
You heave a breath, in an attempt to calm yourself, "Mingyu doesn't like me anyways. I'm just a burden. He'll be free once I leave, he can be with Sora.", you rub your chest as it stings, "He'll be happy and that is what I want."
Your gaze instinctively lands on your belly, hands gently rubbing circles, "I promise, even if we won't be together, me and your dad will try our best to raise you. I can't wait to meet you, to hold you."
Mingyu, on the other hand is set on winning you back. He knows you don't like anything extravagant, so he plans to surprise you out a romantic date at home. He's ready to go to the lengths to make you forgive him. He craves your presence, your touch, your shy smiles, the way you call him when you want something from him.
He wants to love you, wants to make love to you. He has been dreaming a lot about starting a family with you. He wants the little versions of you both running around the house. When his friends took the initiative to show him how he has changed and it's for better he knows that it's true. He wonders if all the frustrations were because his heart wasn't ready to seek out the real feelings.
But now he has figured it all out, he likes you, likes you a lot. So he wants this marriage to work out.
He hopes for you to like him back. So who's gonna tell him the truth?
Some free time at work and he's watching new recipes to cook for you. Before going to bed, he's open the phone gallery and goes over your pictures, the pictures which are candid, the ones in which you posed, the best where he's with you in them.
Would you like it, if he throws pebble at your window and serenades you at the middle of the night? Would it be a good idea if goes down on his knees because he hasn't done it before and know he wants to.
Mingyu is all giddy making up scenarios in his head. He wishes to watch them all happen successfully.
"Are you having mood swings?", Jeonghan asks him one day when everyone gathers at the former's home, "Or do you have dissociative identity disorder? You were regretting getting married to her some weeks back and now you're saying that you like her?"
Junhui is grumpy, he takes a look at Mingyu and smacks him hard on his head causing the later to scream out in pain.
"He claims he is the most closest to Y/N and he is grieving because she is not responding to his texts.", Seokmin clarifies and eyes Mingyu in disbelief, "Seriously dude, what's wrong with you? How can you mess up this bad?"
Before Mingyu could speak up, Hansol interjects, "How hard it is to sort out your feelings? How could you even utter such ridiculous things about her when you know how difficult it had been for her, the whole life. Now she even lost her uncle. Imagine listening to your husband yapping about how much he dislikes you when you think he is one you can lean on? And that too instead of voicing out your mind to her first, she heard you telling it to us."
Hansol is a calm man, he never loses his cool except for some situations and this being one of it.
"It's not only me and Jun. Everyone is upset.. I know I'm making it sound bigger, we know that she is your wife, first and our friend, second but we can see that even though she never shows it she cares a lot. I'll tell you no one has ever entertained me constantly to help me, not even you guys. She even suggested me tools that she thought might help me with the editing though she had to invest time on getting to that point. She gifted Jun a diffuser as the previous one was causing him throat irritation but he was too stubborn to discard a newly bought machine."
Seokmin adds up to Hansol, "Didn't she help you with the paperwork late at night even though you both work in an entirely different industry? I'm sorry but did Sora ever do that being in the same line of work? No right. If you would have noticed she has always tried to accomodate herself within us even when it was difficult, it was all new to her."
Mingyu sinks his face into the palm of his hands, as he says regretfully, "I made a huge mistake. I let my intrusive thoughts win and ended up hurting her."
"What if it's too late to fix things?", Soonyoung speaks, his vision dazed as your words from before keeps reeling in his mind, "You should resolve the matters before it's too late."
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The following week is hectic for Mingyu. The clients are visiting and everyone has to stay late attending them. It's a whole damn hustle, draining the employees out. The week goes on and out with him spending most of the time in office when all he wants is to go home just to see your face.
It's the last day of the visit and Mingyu thanks the heavens. He's usually patient but now all he wants is to avail the comfort of his home.
It's around one at night but unlike other times the hallway is lit in dim lights flooding  into the dining. There's an eerie silence and something unpleasant awaits.
"Let's get divorced."
When Mingyu came home late at that night to see you awake and waiting for him, there was an uncanny feeling that settled within.
Your hands are crossed, face void of any expression. He almost misses your words. If not for your next words, he would think he's hallucinating.
"We can decide on the terms and clauses, all as per your convenience.", you stress, "I do not expect any trouble from your side."
Mingyu finally registers everything you have said till now and everything hits him all at once.
"W-What are you talking about? Why do you want a divorce all of a sudden?"
Your monotonous tone rather asks him another question, "We have been married for over two years, nearing its third anniversary. Do you really want to be tied in this marriage?"
Though Mingyu thinks he doesn't know you well enough but he knows you enough to catch the wind of your words. He knows its not because of something he had said that day.
A familiar set of papers lying on the table catches his attention. His gaze then turns towards his office room and his suspicion confirms to be correct when he sees the door opened ajar.
"Why did you enter my office? I had clearly warned you about not doing so.", he says in a strict voice.
"That doesn't answer my question.", you say getting up, "Anyways it doesn't matter anymore. I'll get a lawyer, you get one too and proceed with the divorce. Oh, you already have Jeonghan."
As you turn back, you feel your husband's hand wrap around yours.
"How are you so calm? Why are you not asking me anything? Do I really mean nothing to you?", you hear his voice laced in frustration, "We are married for almost three years now and your cool headedness after, I'm assuming, knowing everything makes me aware of the fact that I really don't know you."
You jerk your hand out of his grip and turn back to look at him, "And how is that my fault? Maybe you've never tried to know me.", your voice drops another octave, "You can stop with the doting husband act now that I know the truth."
Mingyu doesn't miss the way your eyes show vulnerability for a moment. Your words strike a chord within him.
"You signed a contract with my uncle in exchange for marrying me.", you chuckle bitterly, "All you wanted was the stocks of the company uncle owned, a goddamn promotion, this house, everything else but me. I was never on the list. I was just a pawn. I don't know what my uncle saw in you to desperately marry me off to you. I hope all of this was worth it. The stocks must have passed down to you smoothly as it can only be acquired by someone working in the company. You can keep this house, keep everything."
"Y/N--"
"I don't wanna hear anything. I was waiting for you to come back so that I could make you aware that you're busted. I'll to go bed."
Mingyu reaches out for you again but you lay out a hand, "Please, I'm tired."
"O-Okay.", Mingyu backs down noticing the resignation in your demeanor, "But we're gonna talk it out tomorrow morning.", he sounds sincere when he says, "I'm sorry. I hope you'll give me a chance to explain everything."
But little does he know, you've already closed the room for any diversions, that you've decided to part ways with the person who has betrayed your trust.
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Text
a business proposal, p. 2
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» part one, part three, part four, part five, part six - ⟡⋆˙
» contents - ⟡⋆˙ fluff, crack, au, satoru gojo x f!reader, ceo!gojo, reader works in the same company, made up character 'rin' as your bestie, suguru geto as the secretary, suggestive themes, mentions of alcohol and drinking, just chaotic
» word count - ⟡⋆˙ 2.5k
» notes - ⟡⋆˙ hi everyone!! I hope you enjoyed reading part two of 'business proposal' inspired fic! like i said earlier, i'm planning to make more parts but i won't follow the entire story of the show to a tee but the fic will take situations and elements from it! anyways, happy reading and if you want to be added in the taglist for upcoming parts please let me know!! :D<3
» m.list - ⟡⋆˙
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You sat at the table, your fingers trembling over your phone, engrossed in a rapid text message exchange with Rin as waves of dread and anxiety washed over you while you waited for Gojo’s arrival, each passing second felt like an eternity.
Rin's reply came swiftly, a desperate attempt to bolster your faltering resolve. “You got this!! Just remember, call off the proposal and walk out!”
“What if he realizes that I work for him?!”
Rin’s reassurance came with a hint of amusement. “AS IF! Heard that the guy is so self-absorbed he probably doesn’t even notice his own secretary anyway. Relax! It’ll be fineeeee!”
You let out a strangled chuckle, a sound mixed with disbelief and amusement as you continued to tap on the screen, oblivious to the approaching figure.
“Can’t believe that we’re meeting up so close where Kento works...” you muttered under your breath, the thought of your long time friend stirring a fresh wave of anxiety. Your heart raced at the possibility of accidentally running into him, dread settling deeper in your chest.
Gojo’s brows furrowed as he neared, his phone pressed to his ear, the other end of the call ringing endlessly. But your phone remained silent.
Gojo stopped in front of you, lowering his phone with a bemused expression. “You have two phones?”
Before you could respond, he reached over and took the device from your hands. “Hey! What are you—”
Without a word, Gojo started typing on the screen, calling himself through your device, and then effortlessly saving your number.
“Y-you can't just get my number like that!” you blurted out, jolting up from your seat as you quickly snatched your phone back.
Gojo’s eyes sparkled with a mischievous glint, his smirk growing wider. “Why not? We’re going to get married. Obviously, I need your number.”
“I…I can’t just marry someone I just met.” You retorted, frustration seeping into your tone.
“Then why did you ask me to get a room with you?” he countered calmly. “Isn’t it because you like me?”
Silence befalls between the two of you, only broken by the hums of distant conversations.
You were stunned, his boldness both unsettled and intrigued you, making you unable to formulate a proper response to his unexpected question. 
“I.. That was—”
“And you showing up to the date means you’re open to the idea of marriage, isn't that right Miss Takahashi?” Gojo pressed on.
God, you were tired. Tired of the relentless pursuit, tired of the unexpected turns this situation had taken. His persistence grated on your nerves, leaving you with a simmering annoyance at the situation he seemed so casually confident about.
“I was forced into coming,” you sighed heavily, pinching the bridge of your nose. “I despise arranged marriages, especially when they’re for business reasons.”
You quickly grabbed your belongings, preparing to leave, “anyway, please just forget about all this marriage talk.”
But before you could make your escape, Gojo swiftly moved to block your path, his hand gently grasping your arm to stop you from walking away. 
“Don’t be like that. Let’s just get married.” He proposed calmly, his striking blue eyes peering over the edge of his glasses.
You couldn’t help but chuckle in disbelief, frustration evident on your face. “Is this some kind of joke? How could you just ask anyone to marry you?”
“Who says that I’m going to marry just anyone?” He countered calmly, his gaze steady and unwavering, “the person I want to marry is you.”
His words struck a chord, causing you to falter for a moment. There was sincerity in his voice, a certainty that made you reconsider your immediate dismissal. But shaking off the fleeting doubt, you straightened your resolve.
“No way,” you asserted firmly, shaking your head. “I won’t marry someone I barely know.”
Gojo’s expression softened, his demeanor shifting as he considered your words. After a brief pause, a small smile tugged at his lips. “Alright, how about this then? Let’s go on ten dates.”
Your eyes widened at his sudden request. “What?”
“Ten chances for us to get to know each other better,” he continued, a hint of desperation flickering in his eyes. “Once you do, you’ll notice that I have a lot of strengths. And I promise you…” He leaned closer, his voice lowering playfully, “that I’m quite good at many things.”
You blinked, momentarily taken aback by his playful yet unexpected remark. Gojo's teasing smirk widened, clearly enjoying the flustered expression on your face.
“Hey, hey, I meant that I'm good to women in general,” he clarified, amusement dancing in his eyes. “What did you think I was talking about?”
Your cheeks flushed slightly at his teasing, feeling a mix of irritation and begrudging amusement. This guy seemed to find every opportunity to keep you off balance. Folding your arms on your chest, you mustered your resolve once more.
“Forget it,” you countered, your voice firm and steady. “Forget about this whole marriage idea. I don't want anything to do with it, or you, for that matter. So I hope that I never see you again. Goodbye.”
As you hurriedly exited the café, a whirlwind of emotions swept through you—relief alongside frustration, and beneath it all, a gnawing anxiety. 
“That should do it,” you murmured to yourself, hoping that he’d take the hint, “I’ve said enough for him to cut contact with Rin.”
But as you turned the corner, your heart sank at the sight of someone you hoped to never encounter—Kento Nanami, your dear friend since childhood and the subject of your unspoken affections. Panic surged, and without a second thought, you turned on your heel, lowering your head to avoid being seen, cheeks flushed in embarrassment.
“God, why now?! This is exactly what I was worried about,” You whispered sharply to yourself, “I can’t let him see me like this.”
A car pulled up, offering a chance to escape the awkwardness. Yet, as you slid into the passenger seat, all relief vanished. There in the backseat was none other than Satoru Gojo, his infuriatingly charming grin greeting you like a challenge.
“What are you doing here?” He asked, his voice laced with confusion and amusement.
Panic gripped you as you glanced out the window and spotted Nanami walking past the car. Without a second thought, you grabbed Gojo and pulled him close towards you, hiding behind him as much as you could.
Gojo stiffened in surprise, and the driver, with the long raven hair, let out a choked noise of disbelief and amusement as he looked away from the scene. The tension in the car became palpable as you clung to Gojo, trying to make yourself as inconspicuous as possible.
“What—” Gojo started, his voice unsure.
“Shhh!” you hissed, burying your face in his shoulder, acutely aware of how ridiculous the situation must look.
For a few awkward moments, everyone remained frozen in place. Then, slowly, Gojo relaxed, a low chuckle rumbling in his chest. “You really are something else, aren’t you?”
You peeked out cautiously, meeting Gojo's amused gaze, embarrassment flooded through you.
“I thought you never wanted to see me again,” he teased, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “And yet here you are. You can't seem to get away from me, can you?”
You quickly pulled away from Gojo, stumbling over your words as embarrassment and frustration flooded your senses. “I was trying to... I mean, I-I wanted to... tell you again to never contact me again... and that I never want to get married to you!”
Gojo tilted his head slightly, his expression unreadable for a moment before a small smile crept onto his face. “And why is that?”
Your irritation flared at his persistence, “why? Are you serious? I don't like anything about you! Your cheesy and.. weird lines, and your... your face looks like an archaeopteryx!” The words spilled out before you could stop them, and you instantly regretted the comparison.
There was a stunned silence in the car, broken only by the driver bursting into laughter from the front seat. Gojo's eyes widening slightly, his expression morphed from genuine surprise to mild amusement.
“An archaeopteryx?” he echoed, his eyebrows raised at you. “That's a new one.”
You flushed crimson, mortified at your outburst. “I-I’ll get going now.” With that, you scrambled out of the car, slamming the door shut behind you.
As you hurried away, Gojo remained seated for a moment, still processing the turn of events. He couldn't help but chuckle to himself, a hint of bemusement in his eyes. “An archaeopteryx? What does that even look like? Suguru do you know?”
Geto chuckled as he started driving away, a teasing tone in his voice. “All I can say is that I can see the resemblance.”
“How can you laugh in a situation like this?” you asked incredulously, staring at Rin with a mix of embarrassment and frustration.
Rin leaned back in her chair, a bemused glint in her eyes as she took a sip of her beverage. “Oh, come on! You have to admit, it’s pretty hilarious. An archaeopteryx? Who even thinks of that?”
You groaned, burying your face in your hands. “I know, I know. It just slipped out, I just got so stressed with.. Everything.. This whole situation is just, ugh—”
Rin hummed softly as she leaned forward, a serious look now adorned her features. “I do wonder though why he keeps on insisting on getting married?"
You raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Yeah, right? It's kind of weird. Do you think he's under pressure from his family or something?”
Rin shrugged, “I don’t know.. Could be. Or maybe he's just ready to settle down. Or…” She paused dramatically, then leaned in even closer, a smirk playing on her lips. “What if he's fallen for you?”
You scoffed, rolling your eyes. “As if.”
Rin laughed, her voice teasing. “Hey, stranger things have happened. Maybe you've charmed him with your archaeopteryx comparisons.”
You shook your head, a low chuckle escaping your lips. “Yeah, right. Satoru Gojo falling for me? That's a stretch.” 
You grab the tiny shot glass, swiftly taking the drink in one smooth motion. The burn of the alcohol briefly distracts you from thoughts of Gojo as you set the glass back down on the table.
“Anyway, you should go meet with him and clear this whole thing up before it gets worse.” You murmured, rubbing your temples softly.
“Alright, alright. Fine.” Rin nodded as she sighed heavily, “ugh, my parents will kill me, but they did say they would stop after this. So let’s just hope that everything calms down once I settle things properly.”
You hummed in agreement, feeling the effects of the drinks starting to settle in.
“Anyways,” Rin said with a lopsided smile, wobbling slightly as her hand reached for the bottle of alcohol, “one more drink?”
You hesitated, knowing all too well that ‘one more drink’ with Rin rarely meant just one. But tonight was different, and you desperately needed to forget the past events.
With a reluctant sigh, you nodded. “Alright, alright. One more drink.”
“What the hell—” Rin’s eyes widened in surprise, frustration bubbling within her as she stopped the car. “Who does he think he is?!”
She quickly got out of her car, ready to give the other driver a piece of her mind for almost colliding with her while she tried to park. But when she saw a tall, raven haired man step out of the other vehicle, her anger dissipated instantly. He was undeniably handsome, and Rin found herself momentarily stunned by his presence.
Geto quickly approached her, his expression apologetic. “I'm so sorry for that. Are you okay?”
Rin blinked, flustered by his charm but managing to regain her composure. “Oh, um, yes. It's fine, really. I-I'm fine.”
She clears her throat, bowing politely, “it was really kind of you to check up on me.” Rin straightens herself before stretching out her hand towards him, “I’m Rin. Rin Takahashi.”
Geto’s expression was unreadable for a moment as he glanced at the woman in front of him, then a puzzling look spread across his features, a hint of surprise in voice as he spoke. “You’re Rin Takahashi?”
“Yes,” Rin began tentatively, brows furrowing slightly, “is there a problem?”
“Actually, yes. There's a big problem,” Gojo interrupted, his voice unusually stern as he approached them. “Aren't you aware that it’s illegal to use someone else's name and identity like this.”
Rin’s heart sank as she processed Gojo’s words. She exchanged a quick, uncertain glance with Geto before turning back to face Gojo, “A-ah.. You’re Satoru Gojo?”
Gojo's gaze narrowed, his tone firm. “Yes, I am. And I went on a blind date with the real Rin Takahashi a few days ago. So who are you?”
Rin’s cheeks flushed with embarrassment and frustration. “Look, I can explain…”
“Explain what?” Gojo interrupted, his tone incredulous. “That you’re impersonating someone?”
Before Rin could respond, Geto stepped in, placing a reassuring hand on his friend’s shoulder. “Satoru, maybe there’s been a misunderstanding.”
Gojo turned his piercing gaze towards Geto, his expression unyielding. “She’s pretending to be someone she’s not. That’s not a misunderstanding.”
Rin took a deep breath, her mind racing for an explanation, “I’m sorry, but…” She hesitated, unsure how to proceed without revealing everything. “The truth is… That woman is not Rin Takahashi… I am… And she’s someone that I hired through an agency to act like me.”
Rin's admission hung in the air, the weight of her deception evident in the tense silence that followed. Geto and Gojo exchanged a bewildered glance, both trying to grasp Rin's confession.
Geto was the first to speak, his voice laced with confusion. “You hired someone to pretend to be you?”
Rin nodded eagerly, scrambling to conjure up a quick lie. “Y-yes! A random woman! I… I don’t know her face or her name. She’s a complete stranger.”
“A complete stranger?” Gojo questioned, clearly skeptical over Rin’s statement.
“Y-yes!”
Gojo crossed his arms over his chest, his eyes scanning her, “But that bag you have there... It's the exact same one the woman had on the date.”
Rin froze, realizing her deception was crumbling. “Haha, no way,” she replied sheepishly, waving her hand vaguely. “Hers was Chanel, this is Saint Laurent.” 
“Oh, really now?” Gojo took a step forward, his tone challenging, “I thought she was a complete stranger? How come you know what kind of bag she had?”
Rin's heart sank at Gojo's question. “I... I…” Rin stammered, her mind racing for a plausible response. 
Gojo sighed heavily, “the elders in our families will be very angry with you when they realize what you’ve been up to, you know that right?”
Rin groaned in frustration as she buried her face in her hands. “Do you have to tell them the whole truth?! Can’t you just tell them that it didn’t work out once we saw each other again and decided to not get married?”
Gojo narrowed his eyes at Rin, silently contemplating the entirety of the situation. After a tense pause, he spoke with a calm yet decisive tone.
“Alright, here’s what we’ll do,” Gojo began, causing Rin to look up from her hands, hope flickering in her eyes. “You want to avoid trouble with our families, right? Then bring her here first.”
Rin’s eyes widened slightly, “h-her?—”
“The woman who I almost married.”
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» taglist - ⟡⋆˙ @megumisthirdog, @inluvkai, @ieathairs, @roscpctals99, @laviefantasie, @snwvie, @sanriosatoru
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papaya-twinks · 3 days
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Hi girly pop can I ask for lando x reader where carlos and the reader get really flirty with each other and lando gets very jelaous (tho they are not in a relationship they are just bestfriends) and he just aggressively grabs her and they leave and do the nasty?🤭🤭🤭 at the end it is gentle aftercare. Thank youu pookie🎀🪷
Warnings: Angst, friends to lovers, flirting, smut, 18+, fingering, degradation, choking, praise
Pairing: Lando Norris x fem!reader
@cheriiepies u filthy girl
“C’mon,” you tugged on your best friend’s hand, pulling him towards the entrance to the club. Lando groaned, rolling his eyes as he follow you, diverting his eyes from the way your hips swayed as you walked into the part. You and a few friends had agreed to come to the club to hang out for a bit, as you approached the bar. “What d’you want?” Lando asked, taking his credit card out. “Put that away,” you hissed, pushing his arm down. 
He raised an eyebrow as you batted your eyelashes at the bartender, making him go red. You ordered your drinks as he slid them across to you, your fingers fiddling in your (empty) purse, as if searching for money. “It’s on the house,” the bartender winked as you giggled with exaggerated sweetness, taking the glasses. 
“Face card never declines,” you said, turning to Lando and handing him the glass. “Getting a bit flirty,” he muttered. You shrugged, a little smile on your face as you took the glass into your hand and walked out the designated spot where your friends were. Lando was, unknown to you, having a rather hard time keeping his eyes off the way the dress hugged your ass as he followed you.
“Hey Y/N,” a Spanish voice said smoothly, making Lando snap out his trance. “Heya, Carlos,” you grinned, kissing his cheek softly. Lando frowned, that was new. You’d never done that before. That was only what you did with him. As BEST friends. He watched as you two divulged into conversation instantly, his palms becoming sweaty as he balled his fists.
He’d liked you for ages, it was pretty obvious to everyone except you, and Carlos knew that. So why the hell was he trying to chat up his girl? “So,” Lando said, in an attempt to make it look less suspicious, “Y/N, wanna go dance?”. You turned to him briefly. “I’m alright,” you nodded, squeezing his hand. Lando raised an eyebrow but said nothing as you continued your chatter with the Spaniard.
What ticked him right the fuck off, was when you took Carlos’ hand and led him to the dance floor. He watched you with gritted teeth as your hips swayed to the music, a very obvious smirk plastered on Carlos’ face. Oh fuck it. In an instant, he walked up to you, his large hand wrapping round your throat as you gasped, your eyes wide as he pulled your forwards. “Lando!” you squeaked, your voice muffled.
Lando said nothing, pulling you to where he’d parked, pushing you into the car. “Gonna be a little slut, hm?” he asked, strapping you in as you frowned, watching him. “Knowing fully well how I feel about you,” he snapped reversing out the parking lot and down the road. You gasped as his hand came to your thigh, his words making you shiver - how he felt?
“Well fuck you,” he spat, his hand trailing past the hem of your dress as your eyes widened, his fingers brushing your clothed clit. Instinctively, you bucked your hips into Lando, a small smirk on his face. “Now look who’s all reactive,” he cooed, rolling his eyes. You whimpered slightly as he moved your panties to the side, his finger dipping into your wetness.
“Why’d you tease me like that, hm, princess?” he asked, pushing against your opening with his finger, one hand on the wheel, “did you want this to happen?”. You whined, your back arching into his hand as he scoffed. “Pathetic,” he swung his hand, the car stopping in a small, desolate parking lot as he undid his belt, pulling you out the car. He lifted you with his body, his hand still pumping you softly.
“Lando,” you gasped, his hand pushing your body flat onto the hood of the car, your ass peeking out the dress. “Whore,” was all he said, pulling his boxers down, his cock springing against your ass. He rode your dress up higher, his hand coming down, definitely leaving a handprint, on your ass. “Oh fuck,” you moaned, a small smirk playing on Lando’s lips.
He grinned, pumping his dick a few times before pushing it, his hand besides your head for support, his hips immediately picking up pace. “Oh fuck, Lando,” you gasped, eyes wide as he rocked into you. “Gonna be a dirty little tease, hm?” he spat, “gonna dance with other men in front of me?”. You didn’t say anything, still whining as he hammered into you.
“Look who’s got you moaning now,” he gasped, the knot in your stomach starting to unravel. “All wet and whining f’me,” he grunted, his own orgasm following yours as you moaned, your eyes rolling. “You fucking…” he trailed off, lips parting as he pulled out of you, his cum spilling onto your dress. “Go dance with that on your dress,” he scoffed, his cum leaking from your thighs and down your dress
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slaygentford · 20 hours
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nothing is ever going to hit for me like the two years of listening to people go oh well when we get lestat's story! when we get lestat's side of the story! THEN we'll know the truth! about who abused who! and then lestat, the only person that people who say that listen to, got right up there and said it was not an accident I broke him because I couldn't own him and I've thought about it every day for a decade and I will be sorry for the rest of my life. this is how I sleep at night knowing that everyone who tried to mutual abuse lestat's way out of this knows that lestat stood up in front of 200 people and admitted to every single thing he did to louis entirely prostrate without asking for forgiveness, that louis did not and never could deserve a single millisecond of what lestat inflicted on him, and that now everybody who valued their little white prince's "perspective" over louis' objective truth has to eat their words forever
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tayytayy12 · 15 hours
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You’re losing me | CS55 x Reader
Summary - Reader and Carlos had been married for a year when he started growing distant, thinking his actions would have no consequences but he didn’t realise he was slowly but surely losing you.
Warnings - mentions of cheating, just angst really
Type - Written
Requested - Yes
THERE WILL BE A PT2 !!
Feel free to ask to be tagged <3
You remembered the day that you had first met Carlos, you remembered the way his kind words had made your cheeks turn red, you remembered how perfect he seemed, and he was perfect with and for you. Well, until he wasn’t.
You and Carlos had been together for five years before he asked you to marry him at the stop the pair of you had first met, it was the most romantic thing anybody had ever done for you, the way he had your favourite song playing quietly in the background as he told you how he loved you and wanted to spend forever with you. You was a mess of smiles and tears and you accepted his proposal over and over again until he kissed you and it was like all time stopped, nothing else mattered in that moment except you and him.
The wedding was a dream, both of your families came, as did all of your friends. It was an emotional day for everybody, they knew how in love you and Carlos were, they knew you had to work out. You remember your wedding night when you had a conversation with Charles, the man being one of your closest friends and he actually being hoe you had met Carlos, and he told you that in all the years he had known the pair of you he had never seen either of you so happy. Everyone’s words gave you the confidence to be reassured that you and Carlos would work.
It was only a week after your wedding day that your husband began to grow distant and cold. It was gradual at first, him advising you to stay home on race weekends to focus more on work, but that didn’t bother you that much, you just through that he knew how much you loved your job and wanted you to be happy, but it only got worse after that.
He would say things, keep secrets, control what you wore and say hurtful things. You had no idea where it was coming from, but you didn’t say anything out of fear of losing the love of your life - well, at least who you thought was the love of your life - and you let his changes happen.
Some of the reasons that you did that was probably because all you would think about when he had just had an episode where he would have outburst at you and stormed out of the house leaving you alone, again, was the moments the pair of you shared that made you feel like the only girl in the world. When he proposed, when he said his vows, when he spoke about you ever so fondly in interviews like he was waiting for the reporter to ask about you, when you thought about those moments it was almost like all the pain the last year had put you through didn’t matter.
It was currently two in the morning as you sat alone in yours and Carlos’ bed for a eight consecutive night at the beginning of a double header he insisted you stay home for, tears flowing freely form your eyes leaving a hot wet trail down your cheeks in return as you stared down at the glowing screen of your phone.
You had woke up from a message from your sister , you was confused and little bit concerned, she was on a night out with her friends, did she need your help? Did something happen to her?
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The words on the screen had hit you like a tone of bricks, he swore he would never. He wouldn’t, he couldn’t.
All you could do was cry as the notifications from all your social media’s started coming through on people tagging you and messaging you apologising about Carlos, but your sister was right, he was with a girl at a club in Austin and they was kissing, and probably more you though as yous rolled into some pictures of your husband and the girl leaving the club together and getting into Carlos’ car.
It hurt watching all if this unfold, you felt like it was your fault, you felt sick, betrayed even. You wanted to yell, scream and call Carlos every insulting word under the sun, but all you could do in that moment was subconsciously put your hand in your stomach and glance at the positive pregnancy test on your nightstand.
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You suppressed a broken sob into your hand and you made a promise to yourself that you could do this alone, without Carlos, not just for you, but for the baby in your stomach. You would get strong for them.
It was that moment that Carlos Sainz had officially lost you for good.
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seungcheorry · 22 hours
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"you deserve way better than this", seungcheol says beside you. his attention is on the road in front of him as he drives, so he doesn't actually realize the moment you look at him.
you watch him, dressed in all black, golden watch in his left wrist, brown fluffy hair pushed back by his sunglasses. he's driving his amazing, expensive car, looking glorious at 28 years old - it looks like he has everything figured out, while you clearly haven't got there yet.
"and i mean it", he insists when you don't say anything. "you always take care of everyone around you - hell, you even take care of me -, so you don't have to do this if you don't want to. it's your life we're talking about, if they really care about you they will understand you."
it was so much easier said than done, right? as your best friend, cheol knows everything that's going on in your life; he's your number #1 supporter, always ready to cheer for you, to scold you when needed, to laugh and cry with you at any moment. it only seems natural, for him, to think that that's the standard for you, what you deserve. but you know better than that - you know not everyone will love you and protect you and understand you like he does.
and that includes your family.
"it's not that simple, cheol", you shake your head. "they need me, so i gotta help."
"you always help, yn!"
"well, because they've always helped me too!"
"and that's the point you're missing", seungcheol sighs. "if you tell me you're fine doing whatever they need you to do, that you're 100% sure, then it's okay - i'll even help you. but if it's gonna mess up your life, make you helpless, but you're still doing it because you feel like you owe them something, then it's my job to intervene and tell you to get your shit together."
it's your time to sigh, looking straight ahead at the road.
"they're your family, i get it, i love them too. but you can't. solve. people's. problems", seungcheol slightly hits the steering wheel at every word, just to make his point clearer.
"they need me to be the big person, so that's what i'm gonna do", you reply, crossing your arms.
cheol sighs one more time - he isn't surprised, to be honest. you're just as stubborn as he is, just as tough as he is, and that's why you two work so well as best friends, as siblings, almost.
"you're always the big person", he whispers, defeated. because he knows how tiring it can be, to be the adult, to take care of people, to solve everything when the ones who should be solving it act like kids.
but he's your best friend, after all. so he wasn't going anywhere, not when you would probably need him the most.
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a/n: this is for everyone who's an only child and has to be the voice of reason sometimes, take care of your family sometimes, make decisions and take responsibilities you shouldn't need to sometimes. we got this. you ain't alone. ❤️🍒
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